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         <description>Although she designed her book for her fellow sisters of the Carmelite Order, St.
		 Teresa's Way of Perfection remains accessible to modern readers. In it, she sets out to
		 lead others along the way to union with God through prayer, silence, and meditation. A
		 few of the book's 42 chapters could be called a collection of rules, but the majority of
		 the book more rightly fits the description of advice. As she suggests ways for readers
		 to seek self-perfection, her words are practical, heartfelt, and drawn from personal e
		 xperience. Not only this, but because of the book's less formal and less poetically obscure
		 nature, it offers up a more direct articulation of St. Teresa's theological views than do her
		 autobiography or her most famous work, The Interior Castle.

		 <br /><br />Kathleen O'Bannon<br />CCEL Staff
		 </description>
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         <bookID>way</bookID>
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         <DC>
            <DC.Title>The Way of Perfection</DC.Title>
            <DC.Creator sub="Author" scheme="short-form">St. Teresa of Avila</DC.Creator>
            <DC.Creator sub="Author" scheme="file-as">Teresa of
               Avila, St. (Teresa de Cepeda y Ahumada,
               1515-1582)</DC.Creator>
            <DC.Publisher>Grand Rapids, MI: Christian Classics Ethereal
               Library</DC.Publisher>
            <DC.Subject scheme="LCCN">BX2179</DC.Subject>
            <DC.Subject scheme="lcsh1">Christian Denominations</DC.Subject>
    <DC.Subject scheme="lcsh2">Roman Catholic Church</DC.Subject>
    <DC.Subject scheme="lcsh3">Meditations. Devotional readings. Spiritual exercises, etc.</DC.Subject>
    <DC.Subject scheme="ccel">All; Classic; Mysticism;</DC.Subject>
            <DC.Date sub="Created">2000-07-09</DC.Date>
            <DC.Type>Text.Monograph</DC.Type>
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    <div1 title="Title Page" progress="0.16%" id="ii" prev="toc" next="i">

<h1 id="ii-p0.1">THE WAY OF PERFECTION</h1>
<h3 id="ii-p0.2">by</h3>
<h2 id="ii-p0.3">ST. TERESA OF AVILA</h2>
<h3 id="ii-p0.4">Translated &amp; Edited by</h3>
<h2 id="ii-p0.5">E. ALLISON PEERS</h2>
<h3 id="ii-p0.6">from the Critical Editon of</h3>
<h2 id="ii-p0.7">P. SILVERIO DE SANTA TERESA,
   C.D.</h2>

<p id="ii-p1">Scanned by Harry Plantinga, 1995</p>

<p id="ii-p2">From the Image Books edition, 1964, ISBN 0-385-06539-6</p>

<p id="ii-p3">This etext is in the public domain</p>

<p id="ii-p4">Only a few of the nearly 1200 footnotes of the image book
   edition have been reproduced. Most of those that were not
   reproduced concern differences between the manuscripts. The
   reader is referred to the print edition.</p>
</div1>

    <div1 type="Book" title="The Way of Perfection" progress="0.27%" id="i" prev="ii" next="i.i">

<h1 id="i-p0.1">The Way of Perfection</h1>

      <div2 type="Section" title="Presentation" progress="0.27%" id="i.i" prev="i" next="i.iii">

<p id="i.i-p1">Although St. Teresa of Avila lived and wrote almost four
   centuries ago, her superbly inspiring classic on the practice
   of prayer is as fresh and meaningful today as it was when she
   first wrote it. The Way of Perfection is a practical guide to
   prayer setting forth the Saint’s counsels and directives for
   the attainment of spiritual perfection.</p>

<p id="i.i-p2">Through the entire work there runs the author’s desire to
   teach a deep and lasting love of prayer beginning with
   a treatment of the three essentials of the prayer-filled life
—fraternal love, detachment from created things, and true
   humility. St. Teresa’s counsels on these are not only the
   fruit of lofty mental speculation, but of mature practical
   experience. The next section develops these ideas and brings
   the reader directly to the subjects of prayer and
   contemplation. St. Teresa then gives various maxims for the
   practice of prayer and leads up to the topic which occupies
   the balance of the book—a detailed and inspiring commentary
   on the Lord’s Prayer.</p>

<p id="i.i-p3">Of all St. Teresa’s writings, The Way of Perfection is the
   most easily understood. Although it is a work of sublime
   mystical beauty, its outstanding hallmark is its simplicity
   which instructs, exhorts, and inspires all those who are
   seeking a more perfect way of life.</p>

<p id="i.i-p4">“I shall speak of nothing of which I have no experience,
   either in my own life or in observation of others, or which
   the Lord has not taught me in prayer.”—
   <em id="i.i-p4.1">Prologue</em></p>

<p id="i.i-p5">Almost four centuries have passed since St. Teresa of Avila,
   the great Spanish mystic and reformer, committed to writing
   the experiences which brought her to the highest degree of
   sanctity.  Her search for, and eventual union with, God have
   been recorded in her own world-renowned writings—the
   autobiographical <em id="i.i-p5.1">Life</em>, the celebrated masterpiece
   <em id="i.i-p5.2">Interior Castle</em> and <em id="i.i-p5.3">The Way of Perfection</em>—
   as well as in the other numerous works which flowed from her
   pen while she lived.</p>

<p id="i.i-p6"><em id="i.i-p6.1">The Way of Perfection</em> was written during the height
   of controversy which raged over the reforms St. Teresa enacted
   within the Carmelite Order. Its specific purpose was to serve
   as a guide in the practice of prayer and it sets forth her
   counsels and directives for the attainment of spiritual
   perfection through prayer. It was composed by St. Teresa at
   the express command of her superiors, and was written during
   the late hours in order not to interfere with the day’s
   already crowded schedule.</p>

<p id="i.i-p7">Without doubt it fulfills the tribute given all St. Teresa’s
   works by E. Allison Peers, the outstanding authority on her
   writings: “Work of a sublime beauty bearing the ineffaceable
   hallmark of genius.”</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" title="Principal abbreviations" progress="2.28%" id="i.iii" prev="i.i" next="i.iv">

<p id="i.iii-p1">PRINCIPAL ABBREVIATIONS</p>

<p id="i.iii-p2">A.V.—Authorized Version of the Bible (1611).</p>

<p id="i.iii-p3">D.V.—Douai Version of the Bible (1609) .</p>

<p id="i.iii-p4"><em id="i.iii-p4.1">Letters</em>—<em id="i.iii-p4.2">Letters of St. Teresa</em>. Unless
   otherwise stated, the numbering of the Letters follows Vols.
   VII-IX of P. Silverio. <em id="i.iii-p4.3">Letters</em> (St.) indicates the
   translation of the Benedictines of Stanbrook (London, 1919-24,
   4 vols.).</p>

<p id="i.iii-p5">Lewis—<em id="i.iii-p5.1">The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, etc</em>.,
   translated by David Lewis, 5th ed., with notes and
   introductions by the Very Rev. Benedict Zimmerman, O.C.D.,
   London, 1916.</p>

<p id="i.iii-p6">P. Silverio—<em id="i.iii-p6.1">Obras de Santa Teresa de Jesús</em>,
   editadas y anotadas por el P. Silverio de Santa Teresa, C.D.,
   Durgos, 1915-24, 9 vols.</p>

<p id="i.iii-p7">Ribera—Francisco de Ribera, <em id="i.iii-p7.1">Vida de Santa Teresa de
      Jesús</em>, Nueva ed. aumentada, con introduction, etc.,
   por el P.  Jaime Pons, Barcelona, 1908.</p>

<p id="i.iii-p8">S.S.M.—E. Allison Peers, <em id="i.iii-p8.1">Studies of the Spanish
      Mystics</em>, London, 1927-30, 2 vols.</p>

<p id="i.iii-p9"><em id="i.iii-p9.1">St. John of the Cross</em>—<em id="i.iii-p9.2">The Complete Works of
      Saint John of the Cross, Doctor of the Church</em>,
   translated from the critical edition of P. Silverio de Santa
   Teresa, C.D., and edited by E. Allison Peers, London, 1934-35,
   3 vols.</p>

<p id="i.iii-p10">Yepes—Diego de Yepes, <em id="i.iii-p10.1">Vida de Santa Teresa</em>,
   Madrid, 1615.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" title="Introduction" progress="2.53%" id="i.iv" prev="i.iii" next="i.v">

<p id="i.iv-p1">TO THE GRACIOUS MEMORY OF</p>

<p id="i.iv-p2">P. EDMUND GURDON</p>

<p id="i.iv-p3">SOMETIME PRIOR OF THE CARTHUSIAN MONASTERY</p>

<p id="i.iv-p4">OF MIRAFLORES</p>

<p id="i.iv-p5">A MAN OF GOD</p>

<h1 id="i.iv-p5.1">INTRODUCTION</h1>

<p id="i.iv-p6">We owe this book, first and foremost, to the affectionate
   importunities of the Carmelite nuns of the Primitive
   Observance at Ávila, and, in the second place, to that
   outstanding Dominican who was also St. Teresa’s confessor,
   Fray Domingo Bañez. The nuns of St. Joseph’s knew something of
   their Mother Foundress’ autobiography, and, though in all
   probability none of them had actually read it, they would have
   been aware that it contained valuable counsels to aspirants
   after religious perfection, of which, had the book been
   accessible to them, they would have been glad to avail
   themselves. Such intimate details did it contain, however,
   about St. Teresa’s spiritual life that her superiors thought
   it should not be put into their hands; so the only way in
   which she could grant their persistent requests was to write
   another book dealing expressly with the life of prayer. This
   P.  Bañez was very anxious that she should do.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p7">Through the entire <em id="i.iv-p7.1">Way of Perfection</em> there runs the
   author’s desire to teach her daughters to love prayer, the
   most effective means of attaining virtue. This principle is
   responsible for the book’s construction. St. Teresa begins by
   describing the reason which led her to found the first
   Reformed Carmelite convent—viz., the desire to minimize the
   ravages being wrought, in France and elsewhere, by
   Protestantism, and, within the limits of her capacity, to
   check the passion for a so-called “freedom”, which at that
   time was exceeding all measure. Knowing how effectively such
   inordinate desires can be restrained by a life of humility and
   poverty, St. Teresa extols the virtues of poverty and exhorts
   her daughters to practise it in their own lives. Even the
   buildings in which they live should be poor: on the Day of
   Judgment both majestic palaces and humble cottages will fall
   and she has no desire that the convents of her nuns should do
   so with a resounding clamour.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p8">In this preamble to her book, which comprises Chapters 1-3,
   the author also charges her daughters very earnestly to
   commend to God those who have to defend the Church of Christ
—particularly theologians and preachers.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p9">The next part of the book (Chaps. 4-15) stresses the
   importance of a strict observance of the Rule and
   Constitutions, and before going on to its main subject—
   prayer—treats of three essentials of the prayer-filled life
—mutual love, detachment from created things and true
   humility, the last of these being the most important and
   including all the rest. With the mutual love which nuns should
   have for one another she deals most minutely, giving what
   might be termed homely prescriptions for the domestic
   disorders of convents with the skill which we should expect of
   a writer with so perfect a knowledge of the psychology of the
   cloister. Her counsels are the fruit, not of lofty mental
   speculation, but of mature practical expedience. No less aptly
   does she speak of the relations between nuns and their
   confessors, so frequently a source of danger.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p10">Since excess is possible even in mutual love, she next turns
   to detachment. Her nuns must be detached from relatives and
   friends, from the world, from worldly honour, and—the last
   and hardest achievement—from themselves. To a large extent
   their efforts in this direction will involve humility, for, so
   long as we have an exaggerated opinion of our own merits,
   detachment is impossible.  Humility, to St. Teresa, is nothing
   more nor less than truth, which will give us the precise
   estimate of our own worth that we need.  Fraternal love,
   detachment and humility: these three virtues, if they are
   sought in the way these chapters direct, will make the soul
   mistress and sovereign over all created things—a “royal
   soul”, in the Saint’s happy phrase, the slave of none save of
   Him Who bought it with His blood.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p11">The next section (Chaps. 16-26) develops these ideas, and
   leads the reader directly to the themes of prayer and
   contemplation. It begins with St. Teresa’s famous extended
   simile of the game of chess, in which the soul gives check and
   mate to the King of love, Jesus. Many people are greatly
   attracted by the life of contemplation because they have
   acquired imperfect and misleading notions of the ineffable
   mystical joys which they believe almost synonymous with
   contemplation. The Saint protests against such ideas as these
   and lays it down clearly that, as a general rule, there is no
   way of attaining to union with the Beloved save by the
   practice of the “great virtues”, which can be acquired only at
   the cost of continual self-sacrifice and self-conquest. The
   favours which God grants to contemplatives are only
   exceptional and of a transitory kind and they are intended to
   incline them more closely to virtue and to inspire their lives
   with greater fervour.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p12">And here the Saint propounds a difficult question which has
   occasioned no little debate among writers on mystical
   theology. Can a soul in grave sin enjoy supernatural
   contemplation? At first sight, and judging from what the
   author says in Chapter 16, the answer would seem to be that,
   though but rarely and for brief periods, it can. In the
   original (or Escorial) autograph, however, she expressly
   denies this, and states that contemplation is not possible for
   souls in mortal sin, though it may be experienced by those who
   are so lukewarm, or lacking in fervour, that they fall into
   venial sins with ease. It would seem that in this respect the
   Escorial manuscript reflects the Saint’s ideas, as we know
   them, more clearly than the later one of Valladolid; if this
   be so, her opinions in no way differ from those of mystical
   theologians as a whole, who refuse to allow that souls in
   mortal sin can experience contemplation at all.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p13">St. Teresa then examines a number of other questions, on which
   opinion has also been divided and even now is by no means
   unanimous. Can all souls attain to contemplation? Is it
   possible, without experiencing contemplation, to reach the
   summit of Christian perfection? Have all the servants of God
   who have been canonized by the Church necessarily been
   contemplatives? Does the Church ever grant non-contemplatives
   beatification? On these questions and others often discussed
   by the mystics much light is shed in the seventeenth and
   eighteenth chapters.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p14">Then the author crosses swords once more with those who
   suppose that contemplatives know nothing of suffering and that
   their lives are one continuous series of favours. On the
   contrary, she asserts, they suffer more than actives: to
   imagine that God admits to this closest friendship people
   whose lives are all favours and no trials is ridiculous.
   Recalling the doctrine expounded in the nineteenth chapter of
   her <em id="i.iv-p14.1">Life</em> she gives various counsels for the practice
   of prayer, using once more the figures of water which she had
   employed in her first description of the Mystic Way. She
   consoles those who cannot reason with the understanding, shows
   how vocal prayer may be combined with mental, and ends by
   advising those who suffer from aridity in prayer to picture
   Jesus as within their hearts and thus always beside them—
   one of her favourite themes.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p15">This leads up to the subject which occupies her for the rest
   of the book (Chaps. 27-42)—the Lord’s Prayer. These
   chapters, in fact, comprise a commentary on the Paternoster,
   taken petition by petition, touching incidentally upon the
   themes of Recollection, Quiet and Union. Though nowhere
   expounding them as fully as in the <em id="i.iv-p15.1">Life</em> or the
   <em id="i.iv-p15.2">Interior Castle</em>, she treats them with equal
   sublimity, profundity and fervour and in language of no less
   beauty. Consider, for example, the apt and striking simile of
   the mother and the child (Chap. 31), used to describe the
   state of the soul in the Prayer of Quiet, which forms one of
   the most beautiful and expressive expositions of this degree
   of contemplation to be found in any book on the interior life
   whatsoever.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p16">In Chapter 38, towards the end of the commentary on the
   Paternoster, St. Teresa gives a striking synthetic description
   of the excellences of that Prayer and of its spiritual value.
   She enters at some length into the temptations to which
   spiritual people are exposed when they lack humility and
   discretion. Some of these are due to presumption: they believe
   they possess virtues which in fact they do not—or, at
   least, not in sufficient degree to enable them to resist the
   snares of the enemy. Others come from a mistaken
   scrupulousness and timidity inspired by a sense of the
   heinousness of their sins, and may lead them into doubt and
   despair. There are souls, too, which make overmuch account of
   spiritual favours: these she counsels to see to it that,
   however sublime their contemplation may be, they begin and end
   every period of prayer with self-examination. While others
   whose mistrust of themselves makes them restless, are exhorted
   to trust in the Divine mercy, which never forsakes those who
   possess true humility.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p17">Finally, St. Teresa writes of the love and fear of God—two
   mighty castles which the fiercest of the soul’s enemies will
   storm in vain—and begs Him, in the last words of the Prayer
   to preserve her daughters, and all other souls who practise
   the interior life, from the ills and perils which will ever
   surround them, until they reach the next world, where all will
   be peace and joy in Jesus Christ.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p18">Such, in briefest outline, is the argument of this book. Of
   all St. Teresa’s writings it is the most easily comprehensible
   and it can be read with profit by a greater number of people
   than any of the rest. It is also (if we use the word in its
   strictest and truest sense) the most ascetic of her treatises;
   only a few chapters and passages in it, here and there, can be
   called definitely mystical. It takes up numerous ideas already
   adumbrated in the <em id="i.iv-p18.1">Life</em> and treats them in a practical
   and familiar way—objectively, too, with an eye not so much
   to herself as to her daughters of the Discalced Reform. This
   last fact necessitates her descending to details which may
   seem to us trivial but were not in the least so to the
   religious to whom they were addressed and with whose virtues
   and failing she was so familiar. Skilfully, then, and in a way
   profitable to all, she intermingles her teaching on the most
   rudimentary principles of the religious life, which has all
   the clarity of any classical treatise, with instruction on the
   most sublime and elusive tenets of mystical theology.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p19"><em id="i.iv-p19.1">ESCORIAL AUTOGRAPH—The Way of perfection</em>—or
   <em id="i.iv-p19.2">Paternoster</em>, as its author calls it, from the latter
   part of its content—was written twice. Both autographs have
   been preserved in excellent condition, the older of them in
   the monastery of San Lorenzo el Real, El Escorial, and the
   other in the convent of the Discalced Carmelite nuns at
   Valladolid. We have already seen how Philip II acquired
   a number of Teresan autographs for his new Escorial library,
   among them that of the <em id="i.iv-p19.3">Way of perfection</em>. The
   Escorial manuscript bears the title “Treatise of the Way of
   Perfection”, but this is not in St. Teresa’s hand. It plunges
   straight into the prologue: both the title and the brief
   account of the contents, which are found in most of the
   editions, are taken from the autograph of Valladolid, and the
   humble protestation of faith and submission to the Holy Roman
   Church was dictated by the Saint for the edition of the book
   made in Évora by Don Teutonio de Braganza - it is found in the
   Toledo codex, which will be referred to again shortly.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p20">The text, divided into seventy-three short chapters, has no
   chapter-divisions in the ordinary sense of the phrase, though
   the author has left interlinear indications showing where each
   chapter should begin. The chapter-headings form a table of
   contents at the end of the manuscript and only two of them (55
   and 56) are in St.  Teresa’s own writing. As the remainder,
   however, are in a feminine hand of the sixteenth century, they
   may have been dictated by her to one of her nuns: they are
   almost identical with those which she herself wrote at a later
   date in the autograph of Valladolid.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p21">There are a considerable number of emendations in this text,
   most of them made by the Saint herself, whose practice was to
   obliterate any unwanted word so completely as to make it
   almost illegible. None of such words or phrases was restored
   in the autograph of Valladolid—a sure indication that it
   was she who erased them, or at least that she approved of
   their having been erased. There are fewer annotations and
   additions in other hands than in the autographs of any of her
   remaining works, and those few are of little importance. This
   may be due to the fact that a later redaction of the work was
   made for the use of her convents and for publication: the
   Escorial manuscript would have circulated very little and
   would never have been subjected to a minute critical
   examination. Most of what annotations and corrections of this
   kind there are were made by the Saint’s confessor, P. García
   de Toledo, whom, among others, she asked to examine the
   manuscript.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p22">There is no direct indication in the manuscript of the date of
   its composition. We know that it was written at St. Joseph’s,
   Ávila, for the edification and instruction of the first nuns
   of the Reform, and the prologue tells us that only “a few
   days” had elapsed between the completion of the <em id="i.iv-p22.1">Life</em>
   and the beginning of the <em id="i.iv-p22.2">Way of perfection</em>. If,
   therefore, the Life was finished at the end of 1565 [or in the
   early weeks of 1566] <note place="foot" n="1" id="i.iv-p22.3">Cf. Vol. I, pp. 2-5,
      above</note>we can date the commencement of the Way of
   perfection with some precision. [But even then there is no
   indication as to how long the composition took and when it was
   completed.]</p>

<p id="i.iv-p23">A complication occurs in the existence, at the end of a copy
   of the Way of perfection which belongs to the Discalced
   Carmelite nuns of Salamanca, and contains corrections in St.
   Teresa’s hand, of a note, in the writing of the copyist, which
   says: This book was written in the year sixty-two—I mean
   fifteen hundred and sixty-two.” There follow some lines in the
   writing of St. Teresa, which make no allusion to this date;
   her silence might be taken as confirming it (though she
   displays no great interest in chronological exactness) were it
   not absolutely impossible to reconcile such a date with the
   early chapters of the book, which make it quite clear that the
   community of thirteen nuns was fully established when they
   were written (Chap. 4, below). There could not possibly have
   been so many nuns at St. Joseph’s before late in the year
   1563, in which Mar de San Jerónimo and Isabel de Santo Domingo
   took the habit, and it is doubtful if St. Teresa could
   conceivably have begun the book before the end of that year.
   Even, therefore, if the reference in the preface to the Way of
   perfection were to the first draft of the Life (1562), and not
   to that book as we know it, there would still be the
   insuperable difficulty raised by this piece of internal
   evidence. <note place="foot" n="2" id="i.iv-p23.1">See also the reference, in the
      “General Argument” of the Valladolid redaction, to her
      being Prioress of St. Joseph’s when the book was written.
      Presumably the original draft is meant.</note>We are
   forced, then, to assume an error in the Salamanca copy and to
   assign to the beginning of the Way of perfection the date
   1565-6.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p24"><em id="i.iv-p24.1">VALLADOLID AUTOGRAPH</em>. In writing for her Ávila nuns,
   St. Teresa used language much more simple, familiar and homely
   than in any of her other works. But when she began to
   establish more foundations and her circle of readers widened,
   this language must have seemed to her too affectionately
   intimate, and some of her figures and images may have struck
   her as too domestic and trivial, for a more general and
   scattered public. So she conceived the idea of rewriting the
   book in a more formal style; it is the autograph of this
   redaction which is in the possession of the Discalced
   Carmelite nuns of Valladolid.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p25">The additions, omissions and modifications in this new
   autograph are more considerable than is generally realized.
   From the preface onwards, there is no chapter without its
   emendations and in many there are additions of whole
   paragraphs. The Valladolid autograph, therefore, is in no
   sense a copy, or even a recast, of the first draft, but a free
   and bold treatment of it. As a general rule, a second draft,
   though often more correctly written and logically arranged
   than its original, is less flexible, fluent and spontaneous.
   It is hard to say how far this is the case here.  Undoubtedly
   some of the charm of the author’s natural simplicity vanishes,
   but the corresponding gain in clarity and precision is
   generally considered greater than the loss. Nearly every
   change she makes is an improvement; and this not only in
   stylistic matters, for one of the greatest of her improvements
   is the lengthening of the chapters and their reduction in
   number from 73 to 42, to the great advantage of the book’s
   symmetry and unity.</p>

<p id="i.iv-p26">It is clear that St. Teresa intended the Valladolid redaction
   to be the definitive form of her book since she had so large
   a number of copies of it made for her friends and spiritual
   daughters: among these were the copy which she sent for
   publication to Don Teutonio de Braganza and that used for the
   first collected edition of her works by Fray Luis de León. For
   the same reason this redaction has always been given
   preference over its predecessor by the Discalced
   Carmelites.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" title="Translator's note" progress="6.41%" id="i.v" prev="i.iv" next="i.vi">

<h1 id="i.v-p0.1">TRANSLATOR’S NOTE</h1>

<p id="i.v-p1">In the text of each of the chapters, of the Valladolid
   autograph there are omissions—some merely verbal, often
   illustrating the author’s aim in making the new redaction,
   others more fundamental.  If the Valladolid manuscript
   represents the <em id="i.v-p1.1">Way of perfection</em> as St. Teresa wrote
   it in the period of her fullest powers, the greater freshness
   and individuality of the Escorial manuscript are engaging
   qualities, and there are many passages in it, omitted from the
   later version, which one would be sorry to sacrifice.</p>

<p id="i.v-p2">In what form, then, should the book be presented to English
   readers? It is not surprising if this question is difficult to
   answer, since varying procedures have been adopted for the
   presentation of it in Spain. Most of them amount briefly to
   a re-editing of the Valladolid manuscript. The first edition
   of the book, published at Évora in the year 1583, follows this
   manuscript, apparently using a copy (the so-called “Toledo”
   copy) made by Ana de San Pedro and corrected by St. Teresa; it
   contains a considerable number of errors, however, and omits
   one entire chapter—the thirty-first, which deals with the
   Prayer of Quiet, a subject that was arousing some controversy
   at the time when the edition was being prepared. In 1585,
   a second edition, edited by Fray Jerónimo Gracián, was
   published at Salamanca: the text of this follows that of the
   Évora edition very closely, as apparently does the text of
   a rare edition published at Valencia in 1586. When Fray Luis
   de Leon used the Valladolid manuscript as the foundation of
   his text (1588) he inserted for the first time paragraphs and
   phrases from that of El Escorial, as well as admitting
   variants from the copies corrected by the author: he is not
   careful however, to indicate how and where his edition differs
   from the manuscript.</p>

<p id="i.v-p3">Since 1588, most of the Spanish editions have followed Fray
   Luis de León with greater or less exactness. The principal
   exception is the well-known “Biblioteca de Autores Españoles”
   edition, in which La Fuente followed a copy of the then almost
   forgotten Escorial manuscript, indicating in footnotes some of
   the variant readings in the codex of Valladolid. In the
   edition of 1883, the work of a Canon of Valladolid Cathedral,
   Francisco Herrero Bayona, the texts of the two manuscripts are
   reproduced in parallel columns. P.  Silverio de Santa Teresa
   gives the place of honour to the Valladolid codex, on which he
   bases his text, showing only the principal variants of the
   Escorial manuscript but printing the Escorial text in full in
   an appendix as well as the text of the Toledo copy referred to
   above.</p>

<p id="i.v-p4">The first translations of this book into English, by Woodhead
   (1675: reprinted 1901) and Dalton (1852), were based, very
   naturally, on the text of Luis de León, which in less critical
   ages than our own enjoyed great prestige and was considered
   quite authoritative. The edition published in 1911 by the
   Benedictines of Stanbrook, described on its title-page as
   “including all the variants” from both the Escorial and the
   Valladolid manuscript, uses Herrero Bayona and gives an
   eclectic text based on the two originals but with no
   indications as to which is which. The editors’ original idea
   of using one text only, and showing variants in footnotes, was
   rejected in the belief that “such an arrangement would prove
   bewildering for the generality of readers” and that anyone who
   could claim the title of “student” would be able to read the
   original Spanish and would have access to the Herrero Bayona
   edition. Father Zimmerman, in his introduction, claimed that
   while the divergences between the manuscripts are sometimes
   “so great that the [Stanbrook] translation resembles a mosaic
   composed of a large number of small bits, skilfully combined”,
   “the work has been done most conscientiously, and while
   nothing has been added to the text of the Saint, nothing has
   been omitted, except, of course, what would have been mere
   repetition”.</p>

<p id="i.v-p5">This first edition of the Benedictines’ translation furnished
   the general reader with an attractive version of what many
   consider St. Teresa’s most attractive book, but soon after it
   was published a much more intelligent and scholarly interest
   began to be taken in the Spanish mystics and that not only by
   students with ready access to the Spanish original and ability
   to read it. So, when a new edition of the Stanbrook
   translation was called for, the editors decided to indicate
   the passages from the Escorial edition which had been embodied
   in the text by enclosing these in square brackets. In 1911,
   Father Zimmerman, suspecting that the procedure then adopted
   by the translators would not “meet with the approval of
   scholars”, had justified it by their desire “to benefit the
   souls of the faithful rather than the intellect of the
   student”; but now, apparently, he thought it practicable to
   achieve both these aims at once. This resolution would
   certainly have had the support of St. Teresa, who in this very
   book describes intelligence as a useful staff to carry on the
   way of perfection. The careful comparison of two separate
   versions of such a work of genius may benefit the soul of an
   intelligent reader even more than the careful reading of
   a version compounded of both by someone else.</p>

<p id="i.v-p6">When I began to consider the preparation of the present
   translation it seemed to me that an attempt might be made to
   do a little more for the reader who combined intelligence with
   devoutness than had been done already. I had no hesitation
   about basing my version on the Valladolid MS., which is far
   the better of the two, whether we consider the aptness of its
   illustrations, the clarity of its expression, the logical
   development of its argument or its greater suitability for
   general reading. At the same time, no Teresan who has studied
   the Escorial text can fail to have an affection for it: its
   greater intimacy and spontaneity and its appeal to personal
   experience make it one of the most characteristic of all the
   Saint’s writings—indeed, excepting the <em id="i.v-p6.1">Letters</em> and
   a few chapters of the <em id="i.v-p6.2">Foundations</em>, it reveals her
   better than any. Passages from the Escorial MS. must therefore
   be given: thus far I followed the reasoning of the Stanbrook
   nuns.</p>

<p id="i.v-p7">Where this translation diverges from theirs is in the method
   of presentation. On the one hand I desired, as St. Teresa must
   have desired, that it should be essentially her mature
   revision of the book that should be read. For this reason
   I have been extremely conservative as to the interpolations
   admitted into the text itself: I have rejected, for example,
   the innumerable phrases which St. Teresa seems to have cut out
   in making her new redaction because they were trivial or
   repetitive, because they weaken rather than reinforce her
   argument, because they say what is better said elsewhere,
   because they summarize needlessly <note place="foot" n="3" id="i.v-p7.1">E.g., at
      places where a chapter ends in E. but not in V.</note>or
   because they are mere personal observations which interrupt
   the author’s flow of thought, and sometimes, indeed, are
   irrelevant to it.  I hope it is not impertinent to add that,
   in the close study which the adoption of this procedure has
   involved, I have acquired a respect and admiration for St.
   Teresa as a reviser, to whom, as far as I know, no one who has
   written upon her has done full justice. Her shrewdness,
   realism and complete lack of vanity make her an admirable
   editor of her own work, and, in debating whether or no to
   incorporate some phrase or passage in my text I have often
   asked myself: Would St. Teresa have included or omitted this
   if she had been making a fresh revision for a world-wide
   public over a period of centuries?”</p>

<p id="i.v-p8">At the same time, though admitting only a minimum of
   interpolations into my text, I have given the reader all the
   other important variants in footnotes. I cannot think, as
   Father Zimmerman apparently thought, that anyone can find the
   presence of a few notes at the foot of each page
   “bewildering”. Those for whom they have no interest may ignore
   them; others, in studying them, may rest assured that the only
   variants not included (and this applies to the variants from
   the Toledo copy as well as from the Escorial MS.) are such as
   have no significance in a translation. I have been rather less
   meticulous here than in my edition of St.  John of the Cross,
   where textual problems assumed greater importance. Thus,
   except where there has been some special reason for doing so,
   I have not recorded alterations in the order of clauses or
   words; the almost regular use by E. of the second person of
   the plural where V. has the first; the frequent and often
   apparently purposeless changes of tense; such substitutions,
   in the Valladolid redaction, as those of “Dios” or “Señior
   mío” for “Señior”; or merely verbal paraphrases as (to take an
   example at random) “Todo esto que he dicho es para . . .” for
   “En todo esto que he dicho no trato . . .” Where I have given
   variants which may seem trivial (such as “hermanas” for
   “hijas”, or the insertion of an explanatory word, like “digo”)
   the reason is generally that there seems to me a possibility
   that some difference in tone is intended, or that the
   alternative phrase gives some slight turn to the thought which
   the phrase in the text does not.</p>

<p id="i.v-p9">The passages from the Escorial version which I have allowed
   into my text are printed in italics. Thus, without their being
   given undue prominence (and readers of the Authorized Version
   of the Bible will know how seldom they can recall what words
   are italicized even in the passages they know best) it is
   clear at a glance how much of the book was intended by its
   author to be read by a wider public than the nuns of St.
   Joseph’s. The interpolations may be as brief as a single
   expressive word, or as long as a paragraph, or even a chapter:
   the original Chapter 17 of the Valladolid MS., for example,
   which contains the famous similitude of the Game of Chess, was
   torn out of the codex by its author (presumably with the idea
   that so secular an illustration was out of place) and has been
   restored from the Escorial MS. as part of Chapter 16 of this
   translation. No doubt the striking bullfight metaphor at the
   end of Chapter 39 was suppressed in the Valladolid codex for
   the same reason. With these omissions may be classed a number
   of minor ones—of words or phrases which to the author may
   have seemed too intimate or colloquial but do not seem so to
   us.  Other words and phrases have apparently been suppressed
   because St.  Teresa thought them redundant, whereas a later
   reader finds that they make a definite contribution to the
   sense or give explicitness and detail to what would otherwise
   be vague, or even obscure. <note place="foot" n="4" id="i.v-p9.1">One special case
      of this class is the suppression in V.  of one out of two
      or three almost but not quite synonymous adjectives
      referring to the same noun.</note>A few suppressions seem
   to have been due to pure oversight. For the omission of other
   passages it is difficult to find any reason, so good are they:
   the conclusion of Chapter 38 and the opening of Chapter 41 are
   cases in point.</p>

<p id="i.v-p10">The numbering of the chapters, it should be noted, follows
   neither of the two texts, but is that traditionally employed
   in the printed editions. The chapter headings are also drawn
   up on an eclectic basis, though here the Valladolid text is
   generally followed.</p>

<p id="i.v-p11">The system I have adopted not only assures the reader that he
   will be reading everything that St. Teresa wrote and nothing
   that she did not write, but that he can discern almost at
   a glance, what she meant to be read by her little group of
   nuns at St. Joseph’s and also how she intended her work to
   appear in its more definitive form. Thus we can see her both
   as the companion and Mother and as the writer and Foundress.
   In both roles she is equally the Saint.</p>

<p id="i.v-p12">But it should be made clear that, while incorporating in my
   text all important passages from the Escorial draft omitted in
   that of Valladolid, I have thought it no part of my task to
   provide a complete translation of the Escorial draft alone,
   and that, therefore, in order to avoid the multiplication of
   footnotes, I have indicated only the principal places where
   some expression in the later draft is not to be found in the
   earlier. In other words, although, by omitting the italicized
   portions of my text, one will be able to have as exact
   a translation of the Valladolid version as it is possible to
   get, the translation of the Escorial draft will be only
   approximate. This is the sole concession I have made to the
   ordinary reader as opposed to the student, and it is hardly
   conceivable, I think, that any student to whom this could
   matter would be unable to read the original Spanish.</p>

<p id="i.v-p13">One final note is necessary on the important Toledo copy, the
   text of which P. Silverio also prints in full. This text
   I have collated with that of the Valladolid autograph, from
   which it derives. In it both St. Teresa herself and others
   have made corrections and additions—more, in fact, than in
   any of the other copies extant. No attempt has been made here
   either to show what the Toledo copy omits or to include those
   of its corrections and additions—by far the largest number
   of them—which are merely verbal and unimportant, and many
   of which, indeed, could not be embodied in a translation at
   all. But the few additions which are really worth noting have
   been incorporated in the text (in square brackets so as to
   distinguish them from the Escorial additions) and all
   corrections which have seemed to me of any significance will
   be found in footnotes.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" title="General argument, protestations and    prologue" progress="9.42%" id="i.vi" prev="i.v" next="i.vi.i">

<p id="i.vi-p1">BOOK CALLED WAY OF PERFECTION.<note place="foot" n="5" id="i.vi-p1.1">With few
      exceptions, the footnotes to the <em id="i.vi-p1.2">Way of perfection</em>
      are the translators. Square brackets are therefore not used
      to distinguish them from those of P. Silverio, as
      elsewhere. Ordinary brackets, in the footnote translations,
      are placed round words inserted to complete the
      sense.</note></p>

<p id="i.vi-p2"><em id="i.vi-p2.1">Composed by TERESA OF JESUS, Nun of the Order of Our Lady
      of Carmel, addressed to the Discalced Nuns of Or Lady of
      Carmel of the First Rule.</em><note place="foot" n="6" id="i.vi-p2.2">This
      title, in St. Teresa’s hand, appears on the first page of
      the Valladolid autograph (V.) which, as we have said in the
      Introduction, is the basis of the text here used. The
      Escorial autograph (E.) has the words “Treatise of the Way
      of Perfection” in an unknown hand, followed by the
      Prologue, in St. Teresa’s. The Toledo copy (T.) begins with
      the Protestation.</note></p>

<p id="i.vi-p3">General Argument of this Book</p>

<p id="i.vi-p4">J. H. S.</p>

<p id="i.vi-p5">This book treats of maxims and counsels which Teresa of Jesus
   gives to her daughters and sisters in religion, belonging to
   the Convents which, with the favour of Our Lord and of the
   glorious Virgin, Mother of God, Our Lady, she has founded
   according to the First Rule of Our Lady of Carmel. In
   particular she addresses it to the sisters of the Convent of
   Saint Joseph of Ávila, which was the first Convent, and of
   which she was Prioress when she wrote it.<note place="foot" n="7" id="i.vi-p5.1">These lines, also in St. Teresa’s hand, follow
      the title in the Valladolid autograph. P. Bañez added, in
      his own writing, the words: “I have seen this book and my
      opinion of it is written at the end and signed with my
      name.” Cf. ch. 42, below.</note></p>

        <div3 type="Section" title="Protestations" progress="9.78%" id="i.vi.i" prev="i.vi" next="i.vi.ii">

<h1 id="i.vi.i-p0.1">PROTESTATIONS<note place="foot" n="8" id="i.vi.i-p0.2">This Protestation, taken from
      T., was dictated by St.  Teresa for the edition of the
      <em id="i.vi.i-p0.3">Way of perfection</em> published at Évora in 1583 by D.
      Teutonio de Braganza.</note></h1>

<p id="i.vi.i-p1">In all that I shall say in this Book, I submit to what is
   taught by Our Mother, the Holy Roman Church; if there is
   anything in it contrary to this, it will be without my
   knowledge. Therefore, for the love of Our Lord, I beg the
   learned men who are to revise it to look at it very carefully
   and to amend any faults of this nature which there may be in
   it and the many others which it will have of other kinds. If
   there is anything good in it, let this be to the glory and
   honour of God and in the service of His most sacred Mother,
   our Patroness and Lady, whose habit, though all unworthily,
   I wear.</p>
</div3>

        <div3 type="Section" title="Prologue" progress="9.96%" id="i.vi.ii" prev="i.vi.i" next="i.vii">

<h1 id="i.vi.ii-p0.1">PROLOGUE</h1>

<p id="i.vi.ii-p1">J. H. S.</p>

<p id="i.vi.ii-p2">The sisters of this Convent of Saint Joseph, knowing that
   I had had leave from Father Presentado Fray Domingo Bañes,
   <note place="foot" n="9" id="i.vi.ii-p2.1">The words “Fray Domingo Bañes” are crossed
      out, probably by P. Bañez himself. T. has: “from the Father
      Master Fray Domingo Bañez, Professor at Salamanca.” Bañez
      was appointed to a Chair at Salamanca University in
      1577.</note>of the Order of the glorious Saint Dominic, who
   at present is my confessor, to write certain things about
   prayer, which it seems I may be able to succeed in doing since
   I have had to do with many holy and spiritual persons, have,
   out of their great love for me, so earnestly begged me to say
   something to them about this that I have resolved to obey
   them. I realize that the great love which they have for me may
   render the imperfection and the poverty of my style in what
   I shall say to them more acceptable than other books which are
   very ably written by those who <note place="foot" n="10" id="i.vi.ii-p2.2">The pronoun
      (<em id="i.vi.ii-p2.3">quien</em>) in the Spanish is singular, but in the
      sixteenth century it could have plural force and the
      context would favour this. A manuscript note in V., however
      (not by P. Bañez, as the Paris Carmelites—
      <em id="i.vi.ii-p2.4">Oeuvres</em>, V, 30—suggest), evidently takes the
      reference to be to St. Gregory, for it says: “And he wrote
      something on Job, and the <em id="i.vi.ii-p2.5">Morals</em>, importuned by
      servants of God, and trusting in their prayers, as he
      himself says.”</note>have known what they are writing
   about. I rely upon their prayers, by means of which the Lord
   may be pleased to enable me to say something concerning the
   way and method of life which it is fitting should be practised
   in this house. If I do not succeed in doing this, Father
   Presentado, who will first read what I have written, will
   either put it right or burn it, so that I shall have lost
   nothing by obeying these servants of God, and they will see
   how useless I am when His Majesty does not help me.</p>

<p id="i.vi.ii-p3">My intent is to suggest a few remedies for a number of small
   temptations which come from the devil, and which, because they
   are so slight, are apt to pass unnoticed. I shall also write
   of other things, according as the Lord reveals them to me and
   as they come to my mind; since I do not know what I am going
   to say I cannot set it down in suitable order; and I think it
   is better for me not to do so, for it is quite unsuitable that
   I should be writing in this way at all. May the Lord lay His
   hand on all that I do so that it may be in accordance with His
   holy will; this is always my desire, although my actions may
   be as imperfect as I myself am.</p>

<p id="i.vi.ii-p4">I know that I am lacking neither in love nor in desire to do
   all I can to help the souls of my sisters to make great
   progress in the service of the Lord. It may be that this love,
   together with my years and the experience which I have of
   a number of convents, will make me more successful in writing
   about small matters than learned men can be. For these, being
   themselves strong and handing other and more important
   occupations, do not always pay such heed to things which in
   themselves seem of no importance but which may do great harm
   to persons as weak as we women are. For the snares laid by the
   devil for strictly cloistered nuns are numerous and he finds
   that he needs new weapons if he is to do them harm. I, being
   a wicked woman, have defended myself but ill, and so I should
   like my sisters to take warning by me. I shall speak of
   nothing of which I have no experience, either in my own life
   or in the observation of others, <em id="i.vi.ii-p4.1">or which the Lord has not
      taught me in prayer.</em></p>

<p id="i.vi.ii-p5">A few days ago I was commanded to write an account of my life
   in which I also dealt with certain matters concerning prayer.
   It may be that my confessor will not wish you to see this, for
   which reason I shall set down here some of the things which
   I said in that book and others which may also seem to me
   necessary. May the Lord direct this, as I have begged Him to
   do, and order it for His greater glory. Amen.</p>
</div3>

</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" title="Of the reason which moved me to found    this convent in such strict observance" n="1" shorttitle="Section 1" progress="10.84%" id="i.vii" prev="i.vi.ii" next="i.viii">

<h1 id="i.vii-p0.1">CHAPTER 1<br /> Of the reason which moved me to found this
   convent in such strict observance.</h1>

<p id="i.vii-p1">When this convent was originally founded, for the reasons set
   down in the book which, as I say, I have already written, and
   also because of certain wonderful revelations by which the
   Lord showed me how well He would be served in this house, it
   was not my intention that there should be so much austerity in
   external matters, nor that it should have no regular income:
   on the contrary, I should have liked there to be no
   possibility of want. I acted, in short, like the weak and
   wretched woman that I am, although I did so with good
   intentions and not out of consideration for my own
   comfort.</p>

<p id="i.vii-p2">At about this time there came to my notice the harm and havoc
   that were being wrought in France by these Lutherans and the
   way in which their unhappy sect was increasing. <note place="foot" n="11" id="i.vii-p2.1">French Protestantism which had been repressed
      during the reigns of Francis I and Henry II, increased
      after the latter’s death in 1559, and was still doing so at
      the time of the foundation of St. Joseph’s.</note>This
   troubled me very much, and, as though I could do anything, or
   be of any help in the matter, I wept before the Lord and
   entreated Him to remedy this great evil. I felt that I would
   have laid down a thousand lives to save a single one of all
   the souls that were being lost there. And, seeing that I was
   a woman, and a sinner, <note place="foot" n="12" id="i.vii-p2.2"><em id="i.vii-p2.3">Lit</em>.: “and
      bad.”</note>and incapable of doing all I should like in the
   Lord’s service, and as my whole yearning was, and still is,
   that, as He has so many enemies and so few friends, these last
   should be trusty ones, I determined to do the little that was
   in me—namely, to follow the evangelical counsels as
   perfectly as I could, and to see that these few nuns who are
   here should do the same, confiding in the great goodness of
   God, Who never fails to help those who resolve to forsake
   everything for His sake. As they are all that I have ever
   painted them as being in my desires, I hoped that their
   virtues would more than counteract my defects, and I should
   thus be able to give the Lord some pleasure, and all of us, by
   busying ourselves in prayer for those who are defenders of the
   Church, and for the preachers and learned men who defend her,
   should do everything we could to aid this Lord of mine Who is
   so much oppressed by those to whom He has shown so much good
   that it seems as though these traitors would send Him to the
   Cross again and that He would have nowhere to lay His
   head.</p>

<p id="i.vii-p3">Oh, my Redeemer, my heart cannot conceive this without being
   sorely distressed! What has become of Christians now? Must
   those who owe Thee most always be those who distress Thee?
   Those to whom Thou doest the greatest kindnesses, whom Thou
   dost choose for Thy friends, among whom Thou dost move,
   communicating Thyself to them through the Sacraments? Do they
   not think, <em id="i.vii-p3.1">Lord of my soul</em>, that they have made Thee
   endure more than sufficient torments?</p>

<p id="i.vii-p4">It is certain, my Lord, that in these days withdrawal from the
   world means no sacrifice at all. Since worldly people have so
   little respect for Thee, what can we expect them to have for
   us?  Can it be that we deserve that they should treat us any
   better than they have treated Thee? Have we done more for them
   than Thou hast done that they should be friendly to us? What
   then? What can we expect—we who, through the goodness of
   the Lord, are free from that pestilential infection, and do
   not, like those others, belong to the devil? They have won
   severe punishment at his hands and their pleasures have richly
   earned them eternal fire. So to eternal fire they will have to
   go, <note place="foot" n="13" id="i.vii-p4.1"><em id="i.vii-p4.2">Allá se lo hayan</em>. “And serve
      them right!” would, in most contexts, be a more exact
      rendering of this colloquial phrase, but there is no
      suspicion of <em id="i.vii-p4.3">Schadenfreude</em> here.</note>though none
   the less it breaks my heart to see so many souls travelling to
   perdition. I would the evil were not so great and I did not
   see more being lost every day.</p>

<p id="i.vii-p5">Oh, my sisters in Christ! Help me to entreat this of the Lord,
   Who has brought you together here for that very purpose. This
   is your vocation; this must be your business; these must be
   your desires; these your tears; these your petitions. Let us
   not pray for worldly things, my sisters. It makes me laugh,
   and yet it makes me sad, when I hear of the things which
   people come here to beg us to pray to God for; we are to ask
   His Majesty to give them money and to provide them with
   incomes—I wish that some of these people would entreat God
   to enable them to trample all such things beneath their feet.
   Their intentions are quite good, and I do as they ask because
   I see that they are really devout people, though I do not
   myself believe that God ever hears me when I pray for such
   things. The world is on fire. Men try to condemn Christ once
   again, as it were, for they bring a thousand false witnesses
   against Him.  They would raze His Church to the ground—and
   are we to waste our time upon things which, if God were to
   grant them, would perhaps bring one soul less to Heaven? No,
   my sisters, this is no time to treat with God for things of
   little importance.</p>

<p id="i.vii-p6">Were it not necessary to consider human frailty, which finds
   satisfaction in every kind of help—and it is always a good
   thing if we can be of any help to people—I should like it
   to be understood that it is not for things like these that God
   should be importuned with such anxiety.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="2" title="Treats of how the necessities    of the body should be disregarded and of the good that comes    from poverty" shorttitle="Section 2" progress="12.04%" id="i.viii" prev="i.vii" next="i.ix">

<h1 id="i.viii-p0.1">CHAPTER 2<br /> Treats of how the necessities of the body
   should be disregarded and of the good that comes from
   poverty.</h1>

<p id="i.viii-p1">Do not think, my sisters, that because you do not go about
   trying to please people in the world you will lack food. You
   will not, I assure you: never try to sustain yourselves by
   human artifices, or you will die of hunger, and rightly so.
   Keep your eyes fixed upon your Spouse: it is for Him to
   sustain you; and, if He is pleased with you, even those who
   like you least will give you food, if unwillingly, as you have
   found by experience. If you should do as I say and yet die of
   hunger, then happy are the nuns of Saint Joseph’s! For the
   love of the Lord, let us not forget this: you have forgone
   a regular income; forgo worry about food as well, or thou will
   lose everything. Let those whom the Lord wishes to live on an
   income do so: if that is their vocation, they are perfectly
   justified; but for us to do so, sisters, would be
   inconsistent.</p>

<p id="i.viii-p2">Worrying about getting money from other people seems to me
   like thinking about what other people enjoy. However much you
   worry, you will not make them change their minds nor will they
   become desirous of giving you alms. Leave these anxieties to
   Him Who can move everyone, Who is the Lord of all money and of
   all who possess money. It is by His command that we have come
   here and His words are true—they cannot fail: Heaven and
   earth will fail first. <note place="foot" n="14" id="i.viii-p2.1">An apparent
      reference to St. Mark xiii, 31.</note>Let us not fail Him,
   and let us have no fear that He will fail us; if He should
   ever do so it will be for our greater good, just as the saints
   failed to keep their lives when they were slain for the Lord’s
   sake, and their bliss was increased through their martyrdom.
   We should be making a good exchange if we could have done with
   this life quickly and enjoy everlasting satiety.</p>

<p id="i.viii-p3">Remember, sisters, that this will be important when I am dead;
   and that is why I am leaving it to you in writing. For,
   <em id="i.viii-p3.1">with God’s help</em>, as long as I live, I will remind you
   of it myself, as I know by experience what a great help it
   will be to you. It is when I possess least that I have the
   fewest worries and the Lord knows that, as far as I can tell,
   I am more afflicted when there is excess of anything than when
   there is lack of it; I am not sure if that is the Lord’s
   doing, but I have noticed that He provides for us immediately.
   To act otherwise would be to deceive the world by pretending
   to be poor when we are not poor in spirit but only outwardly.
   My conscience would give me a bad time. It seems to me it
   would be like stealing what was being given us, as one might
   say; for I should feel as if we were rich people asking alms:
   please God this may never be so. Those who worry too much
   about the alms that they are likely to be given will find that
   sooner or later this bad habit will lead them to go and ask
   for something which they do not need, and perhaps from someone
   who needs it more than they do. Such a person would gain
   rather than lose by giving it us but we should certainly be
   the worse off for having it. God forbid this should ever
   happen, my daughters; if it were likely to do so, I should
   prefer you to have a regular income.</p>

<p id="i.viii-p4">I beg you, for the love of God, just as if I were begging alms
   for you, never to allow this to occupy your thoughts. If the
   very least of you ever hears of such a thing happening in this
   house, cry out about it to His Majesty and speak to your
   Superior. Tell her humbly that she is doing wrong; this is so
   serious a matter that it may cause true poverty gradually to
   disappear. I hope in the Lord that this will not be so and
   that He will not forsake His servants; and for that reason, if
   for no other, what you have told me to write may be useful to
   you as a reminder.</p>

<p id="i.viii-p5">My daughters must believe that it is for their own good that
   the Lord has enabled me to realize in some small degree what
   blessings are to be found in holy poverty. Those of them who
   practise it will also realize this, though perhaps not as
   clearly as I do; for, although I had professed poverty, I was
   not only without poverty of spirit, but my spirit was devoid
   of all restraint. Poverty is good and contains within itself
   all the good things in the world. It is a great domain—
   I mean that he who cares nothing for the good things of the
   world has dominion over them all. What do kings and lords
   matter to me if I have no desire to possess their money, or to
   please them, if by so doing I should cause the least
   displeasure to God? And what do their honours mean to me if
   I have realized that the chief honour of a poor man consists
   in his being truly poor?</p>

<p id="i.viii-p6">For my own part, I believe that honour and money nearly always
   go together, and that he who desires honour never hates money,
   while he who hates money cares little for honour. Understand
   this clearly, for I think this concern about honour always
   implies some <em id="i.viii-p6.1">slight</em> regard for endowments or money:
   seldom <em id="i.viii-p6.2">or never</em> is a poor man honoured by the world;
   however worthy of honour he may be, he is apt rather to be
   despised by it. With true poverty there goes a different kind
   of honour to which nobody can take objection. I mean that, if
   poverty is embraced for God’s sake alone, no one has to be
   pleased save God. It is certain that a man who has no need of
   anyone has many friends: in my own experience I have found
   this to be very true.</p>

<p id="i.viii-p7">A great deal has been written about this virtue which I cannot
   understand, still less express, and I should only be making
   things worse if I were to eulogize it, so I will say no more
   about it now.  I have only spoken of what I have myself
   experienced and I confess that I have been so much absorbed
   that until now I have hardly realized what I have been
   writing. However, it has been said now.  Our arms are holy
   poverty, which was so greatly esteemed and so strictly
   observed by our holy Fathers at the beginning of the
   foundation of our Order. (Someone who knows about this tells
   me that they never kept anything from one day to the next.)
   For the love of the Lord, then, [I beg you] now that the rule
   of poverty is less perfectly observed as regards outward
   things, let us strive to observe it inwardly. Our life lasts
   only for a couple of hours; our reward is boundless; and, if
   there were no reward but to follow the counsels given us by
   the Lord, to imitate His Majesty in any degree would bring us
   a great recompense.</p>

<p id="i.viii-p8">These arms must appear on our banners and at all costs we must
   keep this rule—as regards our house, our clothes, our
   speech, and (which is much more important) our thoughts. So
   long as this is done, there need be no fear, with the help of
   God, that religious observances in this house will decline,
   for, as Saint Clare said, the walls of poverty are very
   strong. It was with these walls, she said, and with those of
   humility, that she wished to surround her convents; and
   assuredly, if the rule of poverty is truly kept, both chastity
   and all the other virtues are fortified much better than by
   the most sumptuous edifices. Have a care to this, for the love
   of God; and this I beg of you by His blood. If I may say what
   my conscience bids me, I should wish that, on the day when you
   build such edifices, they <note place="foot" n="15" id="i.viii-p8.1">In the Spanish
      the subject is in the singular: P.  Bañez inserted “the
      house”, but crossed this out later.</note>may fall down
   <em id="i.viii-p8.2">and kill you all</em>.</p>

<p id="i.viii-p9">It seems very wrong, my daughters, that great houses should be
   built with the money of the poor; may God forbid that this
   should be done; let our houses be small and poor in every way.
   Let us to some extent resemble our King, Who had no house save
   the porch in Bethlehem where He was born and the Cross on
   which He died. These were houses where little comfort could be
   found. Those who erect large houses will no doubt have good
   reasons for doing so. <em id="i.viii-p9.1">I do not utterly condemn them:</em>
   they are moved by various holy intentions. But any corner is
   sufficient for thirteen poor women.  If grounds should be
   thought necessary on account of the strictness of the
   enclosure, and also as an aid to prayer and devotion, <em id="i.viii-p9.2">and
      because our miserable nature needs such things</em>, well
   and good; and let there be a few hermitages <note place="foot" n="16" id="i.viii-p9.3">St. Teresa liked to have hermitages in the
      grounds of her convents to give the nuns opportunity for
      solitude.</note>in them in which the sisters may go to
   pray. But as for a large ornate convent, with a lot of
   buildings—God preserve us from that!  Always remember that
   these things will all fall down on the Day of Judgment, and
   who knows how soon that will be?</p>

<p id="i.viii-p10">It would hardly look well if the house of thirteen poor women
   made a great noise when it fell, for those who are really poor
   must make no noise: unless they live a noiseless life people
   will never take pity on them. And how happy my sisters will be
   if they see someone freed from hell by means of the alms which
   he has given them; and this is quite possible, since they are
   strictly bound to offer continual prayer for persons who give
   them food. It is also God’s will that, although the food comes
   from Him, we should thank the persons by whose means He gives
   it to us: let there be no neglect of this.</p>

<p id="i.viii-p11">I do not remember what I had begun to say, for I have strayed
   from my subject. But I think this must have been the Lord’s
   will, for I never intended to write what I have said here. May
   His Majesty always keep us in His hand so that we may never
   fall.  Amen.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="3" title="Continues the subject begun in    the first chapter and persuades the sisters to busy themselves    constantly in beseeching God to help those who work for the    Church. Ends with an exclamatory prayer" shorttitle="Section 3" progress="14.13%" id="i.ix" prev="i.viii" next="i.x">

<h1 id="i.ix-p0.1">CHAPTER 3<br /> Continues the subject begun in the first
   chapter and persuades the sisters to busy themselves
   constantly in beseeching God to help those who work for the
   Church. Ends with an exclamatory prayer.</h1>

<p id="i.ix-p1">Let us now return to the principal reason for which the Lord
   has brought us together in this house, for which reason I am
   most desirous that we may be able to please His Majesty.
   Seeing how great are the evils of the present day and how no
   human strength will suffice to quench the fire kindled by
   these heretics (though attempts have been made to organize
   opposition to them, as though such a great and rapidly
   spreading evil could be remedied by force of arms), it seems
   to me that it is like a war in which the enemy has overrun the
   whole country, and the Lord of the country, hard pressed,
   retires into a city, which he causes to be well fortified, and
   whence from time to time he is able to attack. Those who are
   in the city are picked men who can do more by themselves than
   they could do with the aid of many soldiers if they were
   cowards. Often this method gains the victory; or, if the
   garrison does not conquer, it is at least not conquered; for,
   as it contains no traitors, <em id="i.ix-p1.1">but picked men</em>, it can be
   reduced only by hunger. In our own conflict, however, we
   cannot be forced to surrender by hunger; we can die but we
   cannot be conquered.</p>

<p id="i.ix-p2">Now why have I said this? So that you may understand, my
   sisters, that what we have to ask of God is that, in this
   little castle of ours, inhabited as it is by good Christians,
   none of us may go over to the enemy. We must ask God, too, to
   make the captains in this castle or city—that is, the
   preachers and theologians—highly proficient in the way of
   the Lord. And as most of these are religious, we must pray
   that they may advance in perfection, and in the fulfilment of
   their vocation, for this is very needful. For, as I have
   already said, it is the ecclesiastical and not the secular arm
   which must defend us. And as we can do nothing by either of
   these means to help our King, let us strive to live in such
   a way that our prayers may be of avail to help these servants
   of God, who, at the cost of so much toil, have fortified
   themselves with learning and virtuous living and have laboured
   to help the Lord.</p>

<p id="i.ix-p3">You may ask why I emphasize this so much and why I say we must
   help people who are better than ourselves. I will tell you,
   for I am not sure if you properly understand as yet how much
   we owe to the Lord for bringing us to a place where we are so
   free from business matters, occasions of sin and the society
   of worldly people. This is a very great favour and one which
   is not granted to the persons of whom I have been speaking,
   nor is it fitting that it should be granted to them; it would
   be less so now, indeed, than at any other time, for it is they
   who must strengthen the weak and give courage to God’s little
   ones. A fine thing it would be for soldiers if they lost their
   captains! These preachers and theologians have to live among
   men and associate with men and stay in palaces and sometimes
   even behave as people in palaces do in outward matters. Do you
   think, my daughters, that it is an easy matter to have to do
   business with the world, to live in the world, to engage in
   the affairs of the world, and, as I have said, to live as
   worldly men do, and yet inwardly to be strangers to the world,
   and enemies of the world, like persons who are in exile—to
   be, in short, not men but angels? Yet unless these persons act
   thus, they neither deserve to bear the title of captain nor to
   be allowed by the Lord to leave their cells, for they would do
   more harm than good. This is no time for imperfections in
   those whose duty it is to teach.</p>

<p id="i.ix-p4">And if these teachers are not inwardly fortified by realizing
   the great importance of spurning everything beneath their feet
   and by being detached from things which come to an end on
   earth, and attached to things eternal, they will betray this
   defect in themselves, however much they may try to hide it.
   For with whom are they dealing but with the world? They need
   not fear: the world will not pardon them or fail to observe
   their imperfections. Of the good things they do many will pass
   unnoticed, or will even not be considered good at all; but
   they need not fear that any evil or imperfect thing they do
   will be overlooked. I am amazed when I wonder from whom they
   learned about perfection, when, instead of practising it
   themselves (for they think they have no obligation to do that
   and have done quite enough by a reasonable observance of the
   Commandments), they condemn others, and at times mistake
   virtue for indulgence. Do not think, then, that they need but
   little Divine favour in this great battle upon which they have
   entered; on the contrary, they need a great deal.</p>

<p id="i.ix-p5">I beg you to try to live in such a way as to be worthy to
   obtain two things from God. First, that there may be many of
   these very learned and religious men who have the
   qualifications for their task which I have described, and that
   the Lord may prepare those who are not completely prepared
   already <em id="i.ix-p5.1">and who lack anything</em>, for a single one who
   is perfect will do more than many who are not. Secondly, that
   after they have entered upon this struggle, which, as I say,
   is not light, <em id="i.ix-p5.2">but a very heavy one</em>, the Lord may have
   them in His hand so that they may be delivered from all the
   dangers that are in the world, and, while sailing on this
   perilous sea, may shut their ears to the song of the sirens.
   If we can prevail with God in the smallest degree about this,
   we shall be fighting His battle even while living a cloistered
   life and I shall consider as well spent all the trouble to
   which I have gone in founding this retreat,<note place="foot" n="17" id="i.ix-p5.3"><em id="i.ix-p5.4">Lit</em>.: “making this corner.” The
      reference is to St. Joseph’s, Ávila.</note> where I have
   also tried to ensure that this Rule of Our Lady and Empress
   shall be kept in its original perfection.</p>

<p id="i.ix-p6">Do not think that offering this petition continually is
   useless.  Some people think it a hardship not to be praying
   all the time for their own souls. Yet what better prayer could
   there be than this?  You may be worried because you think it
   will do nothing to lessen your pains in Purgatory, but
   actually praying in this way will relieve you of some of them
   and anything else that is left—well, let it remain. After
   all, what does it matter if I am in Purgatory until the Day of
   Judgment provided a single soul should be saved through my
   prayer? And how much less does it matter if many souls profit
   by it and the Lord is honoured! Make no account of any pain
   which has an end if by means of it any greater service can be
   rendered to Him Who bore such pains for us. Always try to find
   out wherein lies the greatest perfection. And for the love of
   the Lord I beg you to beseech His Majesty to hear us in this;
   I, miserable creature though I am, beseech this of His
   Majesty, since it is for His glory and the good of His Church,
   which are my only wishes.</p>

<p id="i.ix-p7">It seems over-bold of me to think that I can do anything
   towards obtaining this. But I have confidence, my Lord, in
   these servants of Thine who are here, knowing that they
   neither desire nor strive after anything but to please Thee.
   For Thy sake they have left the little they possessed, wishing
   they had more so that they might serve Thee with it. Since
   Thou, my Creator, art not ungrateful, I do not think Thou wilt
   fail to do what they beseech of Thee, for when Thou wert in
   the world, Lord, Thou didst not despise women, but didst
   always help them and show them great compassion.<note place="foot" n="18" id="i.ix-p7.1">The italicized lines which follow, and are in
      the nature of a digression, do not appear in V., and in E.
      they have been crossed out.</note> <em id="i.ix-p7.2">Thou didst find more
      faith and no less love in them than in men, and one of them
      was Thy most sacred Mother, from whose merits we derive
      merit, and whose habit we wear, though our sins make us
      unworthy to do so.<note place="foot" n="19" id="i.ix-p7.3">Here follow two erased
         lines which are illegible but for the words “Thou didst
         honour the world”. The exact sense of the following
         words (“We can . . . in secret”) is affected by these
         illegible lines and must be considered
         uncertain.</note>We can do nothing in public that is of
      any use to Thee, nor dare we speak of some of the truths
      over which we weep in secret lest Thou shouldst not hear
      this our just petition. Yet, Lord I cannot believe this of
      Thy goodness and righteousness, for Thou art a righteous
      Judge, not like judges in the world, who, being, after all,
      men and sons of Adam, refuse to consider any woman’s virtue
      as above suspicion. Yes, my King, but the day will come
      when all will be known. I am not speaking on my own
      account, for the whole world is already aware of my
      wickedness, and I am glad that it should become known; but,
      when I see what the times are like, I feel it is not right
      to</em> <em id="i.ix-p7.4">repel spirits which are virtuous and brave,
      even though they be the spirits of women.</em></p>

<p id="i.ix-p8">Hear us not when we ask Thee for honours, endowments, money,
   or anything that has to do with the world; but why shouldst
   Thou not hear us, Eternal Father, when we ask only for the
   honour of Thy Son, when we would forfeit a thousand honours
   and a thousand lives for Thy sake? Not for ourselves, Lord,
   for we do not deserve to be heard, but for the blood of Thy
   Son and for His merits.</p>

<p id="i.ix-p9">Oh, Eternal Father! Surely all these scourgings and insults
   and grievous tortures will not be forgotten. How, then, my
   Creator, can a heart so [merciful and] loving as Thine endure
   that an act which was performed by Thy Son in order to please
   Thee the more (for He loved Thee most deeply and Thou didst
   command Him to love us) should be treated as lightly as those
   heretics treat the Most Holy Sacrament today, in taking it
   from its resting-place when they destroy the churches? Could
   it be that [Thy Son and our Redeemer] had failed to do
   something to please Thee? No: He fulfilled everything. Was it
   not enough, Eternal Father, that while He lived He had no
   place to lay His head and had always to endure so many trials?
   Must they now deprive Him of the places <note place="foot" n="20" id="i.ix-p9.1"><em id="i.ix-p9.2">Lit</em>.: “of those.” P. Bañez wrote in
      the margin “of the mansions” using the word which is thus
      translated in the titles of the seven main divisions of the
      <em id="i.ix-p9.3">Interior Castle</em>. T. has: “of the houses.”</note>to
   which He can invite His friends, seeing how weak we are and
   knowing that those who have to labour need such food to
   sustain them? Had He not already more than sufficiently paid
   for the sin of Adam? Has this most loving Lamb to pay once
   more whenever we relapse into sin? Permit it not, my Emperor;
   let Thy Majesty be appeased; look not upon our sins but upon
   our redemption by Thy Most Sacred Son, upon His merits and
   upon those of His glorious Mother and of all the saints and
   martyrs who have died for Thee.</p>

<p id="i.ix-p10">Alas, Lord, who is it that has dared to make this petition in
   the name of all? What a poor mediator am I, my daughters, to
   gain a hearing for you and to present your petition! When this
   Sovereign Judge sees how bold I am it may well move Him to
   anger, as would be both right and just. But behold, Lord, Thou
   art a God of mercy; have mercy upon this poor sinner, this
   miserable worm who is so bold with Thee. Behold my desires, my
   God, and the tears with which I beg this of Thee; forget my
   deeds, for Thy name’s sake, and have pity upon all these souls
   who are being lost, and help Thy Church.  Do not permit more
   harm to be wrought to Christendom, Lord; give light to this
   darkness.</p>

<p id="i.ix-p11">For the love of the Lord, my sisters, I beg you to commend
   this poor sinner <note place="foot" n="21" id="i.ix-p11.1"><em id="i.ix-p11.2">Lit.</em>, “poor
      little one.”</note>to His Majesty and to beseech Him to
   give her humility, as you are bound to do. I do not charge you
   to pray particularly for kings and prelates of the Church,
   especially for our Bishop, for I know that those of you now
   here are very careful about this and so I think it is needless
   for me to say more. Let those who are to come remember that,
   if they have a prelate who is holy, those under him will be
   holy too, and let them realize how important it is to bring
   him continually before the Lord. If your prayers and desires
   and disciplines and fasts are not performed for the intentions
   of which I have spoken, reflect [and believe] that you are not
   carrying out the work or fulfilling the object for which the
   Lord has brought you here.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="4" title="Exhorts the nuns to keep their    Rule and names three things which are important for the    spiritual life. Describes the first of these three things,    which is love of one's neighbour, and speaks of the harm which    can be done by individual friendships" shorttitle="Section 4" progress="16.89%" id="i.x" prev="i.ix" next="i.x.i">

<h1 id="i.x-p0.1">CHAPTER 4<br /> Exhorts the nuns to keep their Rule and names
   three things which are important for the spiritual life.
   Describes the first of these three things, which is love of
   one’s neighbour, and speaks of the harm which can be done by
   individual friendships.</h1>

<p id="i.x-p1">Now, daughters, you have looked at the great enterprise which
   we are trying to carry out. What kind of persons shall we have
   to be if we are not to be considered over-bold in the eyes of
   God and of the world? It is clear that we need to labour hard
   and it will be a great help to us if we have sublime thoughts
   so that we may strive to make our actions sublime also. If we
   endeavour to observe our Rule and Constitutions in the fullest
   sense, and with great care, I hope in the Lord that He will
   grant our requests. I am not asking anything new of you, my
   daughters—only that we should hold to our profession,
   which, as it is our vocation, we are bound to do, although
   there are many ways of holding to it.</p>

<p id="i.x-p2">Our Primitive Rules tells us to pray without ceasing. Provided
   we do this with all possible care (and it is the most
   important thing of all) we shall not fail to observe the
   fasts, disciplines and periods of silence which the Order
   commands; for, as you know, if prayer is to be genuine it must
   be reinforced with these things—prayer cannot be
   accompanied by self-indulgence.</p>

<p id="i.x-p3">It is about prayer that you have asked me to say something to
   you. As an acknowledgment of what I shall say, I beg you to
   read frequently and with a good will what I have said about it
   thus far, and to put this into practice. Before speaking of
   the interior life—that is, of prayer—I shall speak of
   certain things which those who attempt to walk along the way
   of prayer must of necessity practise. So necessary are these
   that, even though not greatly given to contemplation, people
   who have them can advance a long way in the Lord’s service,
   while, unless they have them, they cannot possibly be great
   contemplatives, and, if they think they are, they are much
   mistaken. May the Lord help me in this task and teach me what
   I must say, so that it may be to His glory. Amen.</p>

<p id="i.x-p4">Do not suppose, my friends and sisters, that I am going to
   charge you to do a great many things; may it please the Lord
   that we do the things which our holy Fathers ordained and
   practised and by doing which they merited that name. It would
   be wrong of us to look for any other way or to learn from
   anyone else. There are only three things which I will explain
   at some length and which are taken from our Constitution
   itself. It is essential that we should understand how very
   important they are to us in helping us to preserve that peace,
   both inward and outward, which the Lord so earnestly
   recommended to us. One of these is love for each other; the
   second, detachment from all created things; the third, true
   humility, which, although I put it last, is the most important
   of the three and embraces all the rest.</p>

<p id="i.x-p5">With regard to the first—namely, love for each other—
   this is of very great importance; for there is nothing,
   however annoying, that cannot easily be borne by those who
   love each other, and anything which causes annoyance must be
   quite exceptional. If this commandment were kept in the world,
   as it should be, I believe it would take us a long way towards
   the keeping of the rest; but, what with having too much love
   for each other or too little, we never manage to keep it
   perfectly. It may seem that for us to have too much love for
   each other cannot be wrong, but I do not think anyone who had
   not been an eye-witness of it would believe how much evil and
   how many imperfections can result from this. The devil sets
   many snares here which the consciences of those who aim only
   in a rough-and-ready way at pleasing God seldom observe—
   indeed, they think they are acting virtuously—but those who
   are aiming at perfection understand what they are very well:
   little by little they deprive the will of the strength which
   it needs if it is to employ itself wholly in the love of
   God.</p>

<p id="i.x-p6">This is even more applicable to women than to men and the harm
   which it does to community life is very serious. One result of
   it is that all the nuns do not love each other equally: some
   injury done to a friend is resented; a nun desires to have
   something to give to her friend or tries to make time for
   talking to her, and often her object in doing this is to tell
   her how fond she is of her, and other irrelevant things,
   rather than how much she loves God. These intimate friendships
   are seldom calculated <note place="foot" n="22" id="i.x-p6.1"><em id="i.x-p6.2">Lit</em>.: “are
      seldom ordered in such a way as.”</note>to make for the
   love of God; I am more inclined to believe that the devil
   initiates them so as to create factions within religious
   Orders. When a friendship has for its object the service of
   His Majesty, it at once becomes clear that the will is devoid
   of passion and indeed is helping to conquer other
   passions.</p>

<p id="i.x-p7">Where a convent is large I should like to see many friendships
   of that type; but in this house, where there are not, and can
   never be, more than thirteen nuns, all must be friends with
   each other, love each other, be fond of each other and help
   each other. For the love of the Lord, refrain from making
   individual friendships, however holy, for even among brothers
   and sisters such things are apt to be poisonous and I can see
   no advantage in them; when they are between other relatives,
   <note place="foot" n="23" id="i.x-p7.1">“Other” is not in the Spanish. “When they
      are only between”, is the reading of T., which also omits:
      “and become a pest.”</note>they are much more dangerous and
   become a pest. Believe me, sisters, though I may seem to you
   extreme in this, great perfection and great peace come of
   doing what I say and many occasions of sin may be avoided by
   those who are not very strong. If our will becomes inclined
   more to one person than to another (this cannot be helped,
   because it is natural—it often leads us to love the person
   who has the most faults if she is the most richly endowed by
   nature), we must exercise a firm restraint on ourselves and
   not allow ourselves to be conquered by our affection. Let us
   love the virtues and inward goodness, and let us always apply
   ourselves and take care to avoid attaching importance to
   externals.</p>

<p id="i.x-p8">Let us not allow our will to be the slave of any, sisters,
   save of Him Who bought it with His blood. Otherwise, before we
   know where we are, we shall find ourselves trapped, and unable
   to move.  God help me! The puerilities which result from this
   are innumerable. And, because they are so trivial that only
   those who see how bad they are will realize and believe it,
   there is no point in speaking of them here except to say that
   they are wrong in anyone, and, in a prioress,
   pestilential.</p>

<p id="i.x-p9">In checking these preferences we must be strictly on the alert
   from the moment that such a friendship begins and we must
   proceed diligently and lovingly rather than severely. One
   effective precaution against this is that the sisters should
   not be together except at the prescribed hours, and that they
   should follow our present custom in not talking with one
   another, or being alone together, as is laid down in the Rule:
   each one should be alone in her cell. There must be no
   workroom at Saint Joseph’s; for, although it is a praiseworthy
   custom to have one, it is easier to keep silence if one is
   alone, and getting used to solitude is a great help to prayer.
   Since prayer must be the foundation on which this house is
   built, it is necessary for us to learn to like whatever gives
   us the greatest help in it.</p>

<p id="i.x-p10">Returning to the question of our love for one another, it
   seems quite unnecessary to commend this to you, for where are
   there people so brutish as not to love one another when they
   live together, are continually in one another’s company,
   indulge in no conversation, association or recreation with any
   outside their house and believe that God loves us and that
   they themselves love God since they are leaving everything for
   His Majesty? More especially is this so as virtue always
   attracts love, and I hope in God that, with the help of His
   Majesty, there will always be love in the sisters of this
   house. It seems to me, therefore, that there is no reason for
   me to commend this to you any further.</p>

<p id="i.x-p11">With regard to the nature of this mutual love and what is
   meant by the virtuous love which I wish you to have here, and
   how we shall know when we have this virtue, which is a very
   great one, since Our Lord has so strongly commended it to us
   and so straitly enjoined it upon His Apostles—about all
   this I should like to say a little now as well as my lack of
   skill will allow me; if you find this explained in great
   detail in other books, take no notice of what I am saying
   here, for it may be that I do not understand what I am talking
   about.</p>

<p id="i.x-p12">There are two kinds of love which I am describing. The one is
   <em id="i.x-p12.1">purely</em> spiritual, and apparently has nothing to do
   with sensuality or the tenderness of our nature, either of
   which might stain its purity. The other is also spiritual, but
   mingled with it are our sensuality and weakness; <note place="foot" n="24" id="i.x-p12.2">Here begins the passage reproduced in the
      Appendix to Chapter 4, below.</note>yet it is a worthy
   love, which, as between relatives and friends, seems lawful.
   Of this I have already said sufficient.</p>

<p id="i.x-p13">It is of the first kind of spiritual love that I would now
   speak. It is untainted by any sort of passion, for such
   a thing would completely spoil its harmony. If it leads us to
   treat virtuous people, especially confessors, with moderation
   and discretion, it is profitable; but, if the confessor is
   seen to be tending in any way towards vanity, he should be
   regarded with grave suspicion, and, in such a case,
   conversation with him, however edifying, should be avoided,
   and the sister should make her confession briefly and say
   nothing more. It would be best for her, indeed, to tell the
   superior that she does not get on with him and go elsewhere;
   this is the safest way, providing it can be done without
   injuring his reputation.<note place="foot" n="25" id="i.x-p13.1"><em id="i.x-p13.2">Honra.</em></note></p>

<p id="i.x-p14">In such cases, and in other difficulties with which the devil
   might ensnare us, so that we have no idea where to turn, the
   safest thing will be for the sister to try to speak with some
   learned person; if necessary, permission to do this can be
   given her, and she can make her confession to him and act in
   the matter as he directs her. For he cannot fail to give her
   some good advice about it, without which she might go very far
   astray. How often people stray through not taking advice,
   especially when there is a risk of doing someone harm! The
   course that must on no account be followed is to do nothing at
   all; for, when the devil begins to make trouble in this way,
   he will do a great deal of harm if he is not stopped quickly;
   the plan I have suggested, then, of trying to consult another
   confessor is the safest one if it is practicable, and I hope
   in the Lord that it will be so.</p>

<p id="i.x-p15">Reflect upon the great importance of this, for it is
   a dangerous matter, and can be a veritable hell, and a source
   of harm to everyone. I advise you not to wait until a great
   deal of harm has been done but to take every possible step
   that you can think of and stop the trouble at the outset; this
   you may do with a good conscience. But I hope in the Lord that
   He will not allow persons who are to spend their lives in
   prayer to have any attachment save to one who is a great
   servant of God; and I am quite certain He will not, unless
   they have no love for prayer and for striving after perfection
   in the way we try to do here. For, unless they see that he
   understands their language and likes to speak to them of God,
   they cannot possibly love him, as he is not like them. If he
   is such a person, he will have very few opportunities of doing
   any harm, and, unless he is very simple, he will not seek to
   disturb his own peace of mind and that of the servants of
   God.</p>

<p id="i.x-p16">As I have begun to speak about this, I will repeat that the
   devil can do a great deal of harm here, which will long remain
   undiscovered, and thus the soul that is striving after
   perfection can be gradually ruined without knowing how. For,
   if a confessor gives occasion for vanity through being vain
   himself, he will be very tolerant with it in [the consciences
   of] others. May God, for His Majesty’s own sake, deliver us
   from things of this kind. It would be enough to unsettle all
   the nuns if their consciences and their confessor should give
   them exactly opposite advice, and, if it is insisted that they
   must have one confessor only, they will not know what to do,
   nor how to pacify their minds, since the very person who
   should be calming them and helping them is the source of the
   harm. In some places there must be a great deal of trouble of
   this kind: I always feel very sorry about it and so you must
   not be surprised if I attach great importance to your
   understanding this danger.</p>

        <div3 type="Section" title="Appendix to chapter 4" progress="19.74%" id="i.x.i" prev="i.x" next="i.xi">

<h2 id="i.x.i-p0.1">Appendix To Chapter 4</h2>

<p id="i.x.i-p1">The following variant reading of the Escorial Manuscript seems
   too important to be relegated to a footnote. It occurs the
   twelfth paragraph of ch. 4 (cf. n. 24) , and deals, as will be
   seen, with the qualifications and character of the confessor.
   Many editors substitute it in their text for the corresponding
   passage in V. As will be seen, however, it is not a pure
   addition; we therefore reproduce it separately.</p>

<p id="i.x.i-p2">The important thing is that these two kinds of mutual love
   should be untainted by any sort of passion, for such a thing
   would completely spoil this harmony. If we exercise this love,
   of which I have spoken, with moderation and discretion, it is
   wholly meritorious, because what seems to us sensuality is
   turned into virtue. But the two may be so closely intertwined
   with one another that it is sometimes impossible to
   distinguish them, especially where a confessor is concerned.
   For if persons who are practising prayer find that their
   confessor is a holy man and understands the way they behave,
   they become greatly attached to him. And then forthwith the
   devil lets loose upon them a whole battery of scruples which
   produce a terrible disturbance within the soul, this being
   what he is aiming at. In particular, if the confessor is
   guiding such persons to greater perfection, they become so
   depressed that they will go so far as to leave him for another
   and yet another, only to be tormented by the same temptation
   every time.</p>

<p id="i.x.i-p3">What you can do here is not to let your minds dwell upon
   whether you like your confessor or not, but just to like him
   if you feel so inclined. For, if we grow fond of people who
   are kind to our bodies, why should we not love those who are
   always striving and toiling to help our souls? Actually, if my
   confessor is a holy and spiritual man and I see that he is
   taking great pains for the benefit of my soul, I think it will
   be a real help to my progress for me to like him. For so weak
   are we that such affection sometimes helps us a great deal to
   undertake very great things in God’s service.</p>

<p id="i.x.i-p4">But, if your confessor is not such a person as I have
   described, there is a possibility of danger, and for him to
   know that you like him may do the greatest harm, most of all
   in houses where the nuns are very strictly enclosed. And as it
   is a difficult thing to get to know which confessors are good,
   great care and caution are necessary. The best advice to give
   would be that you should see he has no idea of your affection
   for him and is not told about it. But the devil is so active
   that this is not practicable: you feel as if this is the only
   thing you have to confess and imagine you are obliged to
   confess it. For this reason I should like you to think that
   your affection for him is of no importance and to take no more
   notice of it.</p>

<p id="i.x.i-p5">Follow this advice if you find that everything your confessor
   says to you profits your soul; if you neither see nor hear him
   indulge in any vanity (and such things are always noticed
   except by one who is wilfully dull) and if you know him to be
   a God-fearing man, do not be distressed over any temptation
   about being too fond of him, and the devil will then grow
   tired and stop tempting you.  But if you notice that the
   confessor is tending in any way towards vanity in what he says
   to you, you should regard him with grave suspicion; in such
   a case conversation with him, even about prayer and about God,
   should be avoided—the sister should make her confession
   briefly and say nothing more. It would be best for her to tell
   the Mother (Superior) that she does not get on with him and go
   elsewhere. This is the safest way if it is practicable, and
   I hope in God that it will be, and that you will do all you
   possibly can to have no relations with him, though this may be
   very painful for you.</p>

<p id="i.x.i-p6">Reflect upon the great importance of this, etc. (pp.
   58-9).</p>
</div3> </div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="5" title="Continues speaking of    confessors. Explains why it is important that they should be    learned men" shorttitle="Section 5" progress="20.60%" id="i.xi" prev="i.x.i" next="i.xii">

<h1 id="i.xi-p0.1">CHAPTER 5<br /> Continues speaking of confessors. Explains why
   it is important that they should be learned men.</h1>

<p id="i.xi-p1">May the Lord grant, for His Majesty’s own sake, that no one in
   this house shall experience the trials that have been
   described, or find herself oppressed in this way in soul and
   body. I hope the superior will never be so intimate with the
   confessor that no one will dare to say anything about him to
   her or about her to him. For this will tempt
   <em id="i.xi-p1.1">unfortunate</em> penitents to leave very grave sins
   unconfessed because they will feel uncomfortable about
   confessing them. God help me! What trouble the devil can make
   here and how dearly people have to pay for their
   <em id="i.xi-p1.2">miserable</em> worries and concern about honour! If they
   consult only one confessor, they think they are acting in the
   interests of their Order and for the <em id="i.xi-p1.3">greater</em> honour
   of their convent: and that is the way the devil lays his
   snares for souls when he can find no other. If the
   <em id="i.xi-p1.4">poor</em> sisters ask for another confessor, they are told
   that this would mean the <em id="i.xi-p1.5">complete</em> end of all
   discipline in the convent; and, if he is not a priest of their
   Order, even though he be a saint, they are led to believe that
   they would be disgracing their entire Order by consulting
   him.</p>

<p id="i.xi-p2"><em id="i.xi-p2.1">Give great praise to God, Daughters, for this liberty that
      you have, for, though there are not a great many priests
      whom you can consult, there are a few, other than your
      ordinary confessors, who can give you light upon
      everything</em>. I beg every superior, <note place="foot" n="26" id="i.xi-p2.2"><em id="i.xi-p2.3">Lit</em>.: “I beg her who is in the
      position of a senior (<em id="i.xi-p2.4">mayor</em>).” <em id="i.xi-p2.5">Mayor</em> was
      the title given to the superior at the Incarnation, Ávila,
      and many other convents in Spain, at that time.</note>for
   the love of the Lord, to allow a holy liberty here: let the
   Bishop or Provincial be approached for leave for the sisters
   to go from time to time beyond their ordinary confessors and
   talk about their souls with persons of learning, especially if
   the confessors, though good men, have no learning; for
   learning is a great help in giving light upon everything. It
   should be possible to find a number of people who combine both
   learning and spirituality, and the more favours the Lord
   grants you in prayer, the more needful is it that your good
   works and your prayers should have a sure foundation.</p>

<p id="i.xi-p3">You already know that the first stone of this foundation must
   be a good conscience and that you must make every effort to
   free yourselves from even venial sins and follow the greatest
   possible perfection. You might suppose that any confessor
   would know this, but you would be wrong: it happened that
   I had to go about matters of consciences to a man who had
   taken a complete course in theology; and he did me a great
   deal of mischief by telling me that certain things were of no
   importance. I know that he had no intention of deceiving me,
   or any reason for doing so: it was simply that he knew no
   better. And in addition to this instance I have met with two
   or three similar ones.</p>

<p id="i.xi-p4">Everything depends on our having true light to keep the law of
   God perfectly. This is a firm basis for prayer; but without
   this strong foundation the whole building will go awry. In
   making their confessions, then, the nuns must be free to
   discuss spiritual matters with such persons as I have
   described. I will even go farther and say that they should
   sometimes do as I have said even if their confessor has all
   these good qualities, for he may quite easily make mistakes
   and it is a pity that he should be the cause of their going
   astray. They must try, however, never to act in any way
   against obedience, for they will find ways of getting all the
   help they need: it is of great importance to them that they
   should, and so they must make every possible effort to do
   so.</p>

<p id="i.xi-p5">All this that I have said has to do with the superior. Since
   there are no consolations but spiritual ones to be had here,
   I would beg her once again to see that the sisters get these
   consolations, for God leads [His handmaidens] by different
   ways and it is impossible that one confessor should be
   acquainted with them all. I assure you that, if your souls are
   as they ought to be, there is no lack of holy persons who will
   be glad to advise and console you, even though you are poor.
   For He Who sustains our bodies will awaken and encourage
   someone to give light to our souls, and thus this evil of
   which I am so much afraid will be remedied. For if the devil
   should tempt the confessor, with the result that he leads you
   astray on any point of doctrine he will go slowly and be more
   careful about all he is doing when he knows that the penitent
   is also consulting others.</p>

<p id="i.xi-p6">If the devil is prevented from entering convents in this way,
   I hope in God that he will never get into this house at all;
   so, for love of the Lord, I beg whoever is Bishop to allow the
   sisters this liberty and not to withdraw it so long as the
   confessors are persons both of learning and of good lives,
   a fact which will soon come to be known in a little place like
   this.</p>

<p id="i.xi-p7">In what I have said here, I am speaking from experience of
   things that I have seen and heard <em id="i.xi-p7.1">in many convents</em>
   and gathered from conversation with learned and holy people
   who have considered what is most fitting for this house, so
   that it may advance in perfection. Among the perils which
   exist everywhere, for as long as life lasts, we shall find
   that this is the least. No vicar should be free to go in and
   out of the convent, and no confessor should have this freedom
   either. They are there to watch over the recollectedness and
   good living of the house and its progress in both interior and
   exterior matters, so that they may report to the superior
   whenever needful, but they are never to be superiors
   themselves. <em id="i.xi-p7.2">As I say, excellent reasons have been found
      why, everything considered, this is the best course, and
      why, if any priest hears confessions frequently, it should
      be the chaplain; but, if the nuns think it necessary, they
      can make their confessions to such persons as have been
      described, provided the superior is informed of it, and the
      prioress is such that the Bishop can trust her discretion.
      As there are very few nuns here, this will not take up much
      time</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xi-p8">This is our present practice; and it is not followed merely on
   my advice. Our present Bishop, Don Álvaro de Mendoza, under
   whose obedience we live (since for many reasons we have not
   been placed under the jurisdiction of the Order), is greatly
   attached to holiness and the religious life, and, besides
   being of most noble extraction, is a great servant of God. He
   is always very glad to help this house in every way, and to
   this very end he brought together persons of learning,
   spirituality and experience, and this decision was then come
   to. It will be only right that future superiors should conform
   to his opinion, since it has been decided on by such good men,
   and after so many prayers to the Lord that He would enlighten
   them in every possible way, which, so far as we can at present
   see, He has certainly done. May the Lord be pleased to promote
   the advancement of this to His greater glory. Amen.</p>

</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="6" title="Returns to the subject of    perfect love, already begun" shorttitle="Section 6" progress="22.18%" id="i.xii" prev="i.xi" next="i.xiii">

<h1 id="i.xii-p0.1">CHAPTER 6<br /> Returns to the subject of perfect love,
   already begun.</h1>

<p id="i.xii-p1">I have digressed a great deal but no one will blame me who
   understands the importance of what has been said. Let us now
   return to the love which it is good [and lawful] for us to
   feel. This I have described as purely spiritual; I am not sure
   if I know what I am talking about, but it seems to me that
   there is no need to speak much of it, since so few, I fear,
   possess it; let any one of you to whom the Lord has given it
   praise Him fervently, for she must be a person of the greatest
   perfection. It is about this that I now wish to write. Perhaps
   what I say may be of some profit, for if you look at a virtue
   you desire it and try to gain it, and so become attached to
   it.</p>

<p id="i.xii-p2">God grant that I may be able to understand this, and even more
   that I may be able to describe it, for I am not sure that
   I know when love is spiritual and when there is sensuality
   mingled with it, or how to begin speaking about it. I am like
   one who hears a person speaking in the distance and,
   <em id="i.xii-p2.1">though he can hear that he is speaking</em>, cannot
   distinguish what he is saying. It is just like that with me:
   sometimes I cannot understand what I am saying, yet the Lord
   is pleased to enable me to say it well. If at other times what
   I say is [ridiculous and] nonsensical, it is only natural for
   me to go completely astray.</p>

<p id="i.xii-p3">Now it seems to me that, when God has brought someone to
   a clear knowledge of the world, and of its nature, and of the
   fact that another world (<em id="i.xii-p3.1">or, let us say, another
      kingdom</em>) exists, and that there is a great difference
   between the one and the other, the one being eternal and the
   other only a dream; and of what it is to love the Creator and
   what to love the creature (this must be discovered by
   experience, for it is a very different matter from merely
   thinking about it and believing it); when one understands by
   sight and experience what can be gained by the one practice
   and lost by the other, and what the Creator is and what the
   creature, and many other things which the Lord teaches to
   those who are willing to devote themselves to being taught by
   Him in prayer, or whom His Majesty wishes to teach—then one
   loves very differently from those of us who have not advanced
   thus far.</p>

<p id="i.xii-p4">It may be, sisters, that you think it irrelevant for me to
   treat of this, and you may say that you already know
   everything that I have said. God grant that this may be so,
   and that you may indeed know it in the only way which has any
   meaning, and that it may be graven upon your inmost being,
   <em id="i.xii-p4.1">and that you may never for a moment depart from it</em>,
   for, if you know it, you will see that I am telling nothing
   but the truth when I say that he whom the Lord brings thus far
   possesses this love. Those whom God brings to this state are,
   <em id="i.xii-p4.2">I think</em>, generous and royal souls; they are not
   content with loving anything so miserable as these bodies,
   however beautiful they be and however numerous the graces they
   possess. If the sight of the body gives them pleasure they
   praise the Creator, but as for dwelling upon it <em id="i.xii-p4.3">for more
      than just a moment</em>—no! When I use that phrase
   “dwelling upon it”, I refer to having love for such things. If
   they had such love, they would think they were loving
   something insubstantial and were conceiving fondness for
   a shadow, they would feel shame for themselves and would not
   have the effrontery to tell God that they love Him, without
   feeling great confusion.</p>

<p id="i.xii-p5">You will answer me that such persons cannot love or repay the
   affection shown to them by others. Certainly they care little
   about having this affection. They may from time to time
   experience a natural and momentary pleasure at being loved;
   yet, as soon as they return to their normal condition, they
   realize that such pleasure is folly save when the persons
   concerned can benefit their souls, either by instruction or by
   prayer. Any other kind of affection wearies them, for they
   know it can bring them no profit and may well do them harm;
   none the less they are grateful for it and recompense it by
   commending those who love them to God. They take this
   affection as something for which those who love them lay the
   responsibility upon the Lord, from Whom, since they can see
   nothing lovable in themselves, they suppose the love comes,
   and think that others love them because God loves them; and so
   they leave His Majesty to recompense them for this and beg Him
   to do so, thus freeing themselves and feeling they have no
   more responsibility.  When I ponder it carefully, I sometimes
   think this desire for affection is sheer blindness, except
   when, as I say, it relates to persons who can lead us to do
   good so that we may gain blessings in perfection.</p>

<p id="i.xii-p6">It should be noted here that, when we desire anyone’s
   affection, we always seek it because of some interest, profit
   or pleasure of our own. Those who are perfect, however, have
   trodden all these things beneath their feet—[and have
   despised] the blessings which may come to them in this world,
   and its pleasures and delights—in such a way that, even if
   they wanted to, so to say, they could not love anything
   outside God, or unless it had to do with God. What profit,
   then, can come to them from being loved themselves?</p>

<p id="i.xii-p7">When this truth is put to them, they laugh at the distress
   which had been assailing them in the past as to whether their
   affection was being returned or no. Of course, however pure
   our affection may be, it is quite natural for us to wish it to
   be returned. But, when we come to evaluate the return of
   affection, we realize that it is insubstantial, like a thing
   of straw, as light as air and easily carried away by the wind.
   For, however dearly we have been loved, what is there that
   remains to us? Such persons, then, except for the advantage
   that the affection may bring to their souls (because they
   realize that our nature is such that we soon tire of life
   without love), care nothing whether they are loved or not. Do
   you think that such persons will love none and delight in none
   save God? No; they will love others much more than they did,
   with a more genuine love, with greater passion and with a love
   which brings more profit; that, in a word, is what love really
   is. And such souls are always much fonder of giving than of
   receiving, even in their relations with the Creator Himself.
   This [holy affection], I say, merits the name of love, which
   name has been usurped from it by those other base
   affections.</p>

<p id="i.xii-p8">Do you ask, again, by what they are attracted if they do not
   love things they see? They do love what they see and they are
   greatly attracted by what they hear; but the things which they
   see are everlasting. If they love anyone they immediately look
   right beyond the body (<em id="i.xii-p8.1">on which, as I say, they cannot
      dwell</em>), fix their eyes on the soul and see what there
   is to be loved in that. If there is nothing, but they see any
   suggestion or inclination which shows them that, if they dig
   deep, they will find gold within this mine, they think nothing
   of the labour of digging, since they have love. There is
   nothing that suggests itself to them which they will not
   willingly do for the good of that soul since they desire their
   love for it to be lasting, and they know quite well that that
   is impossible unless the loved one has certain good qualities
   and a great love for God. I really mean that it is impossible,
   however great their obligations and even if that soul were to
   die for love of them and do them all the kind actions in its
   power; even had it all the natural graces joined in one, their
   wills would not have strength enough to love it nor would they
   remain fixed upon it. They know and have learned and
   experienced the worth of all this; no false dice can deceive
   them. They see that they are not in unison with that soul and
   that their love for it cannot possibly last; for, unless that
   soul keeps the law of God, their love will end with life—
   they know that unless it loves Him they will go to different
   places.</p>

<p id="i.xii-p9">Those into whose souls the Lord has already infused true
   wisdom do not esteem this love, which lasts only on earth, at
   more than its true worth—if, indeed, at so much. Those who
   like to take pleasure in worldly things, delights, honours and
   riches, will account it of some worth if their friend is rich
   and able to afford them pastime <em id="i.xii-p9.1">and pleasure</em> and
   recreation; but those who already hate all this will care
   little or nothing for such things.  If they have any love for
   such a person, then, it will be a passion that he may love God
   so as to be loved by Him; for, as I say, they know that no
   other kind of affection but this can last, and that this kind
   will cost them dear, for which reason they do all they
   possibly can for their friend’s profit; they would lose
   a thousand lives to bring him a small blessing. Oh, precious
   love, forever imitating the Captain of Love, Jesus, our
   Good!</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="7" title="Treats of the same subject of    spiritual love and gives certain counsels for gaining it" shorttitle="Section 7" progress="24.15%" id="i.xiii" prev="i.xii" next="i.xiv">

<h1 id="i.xiii-p0.1">CHAPTER 7<br /> Treats of the same subject of spiritual love
   and gives certain counsels for gaining it.</h1>

<p id="i.xiii-p1">It is strange to see how impassioned this love is; how many
   tears, penances and prayers it costs; how careful is the
   loving soul to commend the object of its affection to all who
   it thinks may prevail with God and to ask them to intercede
   with Him for it; and how constant is its longing, so that it
   cannot be happy unless it sees that its loved one is making
   progress. If that soul seems to have advanced, and is then
   seen to fall some way back, her friend seems to have no more
   pleasure in life: she neither eats nor sleeps, is never free
   from this fear and is always afraid that the soul whom she
   loves so much may be lost, and that the two may be parted for
   ever. She cares nothing for physical death, but she will not
   suffer herself to be attached to something which a puff of
   wind may carry away so that she is unable to retain her hold
   upon it.  This, as I have said, is love without any degree
   whatsoever of self-interest; all that this soul wishes and
   desires is to see the soul [it loves] enriched with blessings
   from Heaven. This is love, quite unlike our ill-starred
   earthly affections—to say nothing of illicit affections,
   from which may God keep us free.</p>

<p id="i.xiii-p2">These last affections are a very hell, and it is needless for
   us to weary ourselves by saying how evil they are, for the
   least of the evils which they bring are terrible beyond
   exaggeration. There is no need for us ever to take such things
   upon our lips, sisters, <em id="i.xiii-p2.1">or even to think of them</em>, or
   to remember that they exist anywhere in the world; you must
   never listen to anyone speaking of such affections, either in
   jest or in earnest, nor allow them to be mentioned or
   discussed in your presence. No good can come from our doing
   this and it might do us harm even to hear them mentioned. But
   with regard to the lawful affections which, as I have said, we
   may have for each other, or for relatives and friends, it is
   different.  Our whole desire is that they should not die: if
   their heads ache, our souls seem to ache too; if we see them
   in distress, we are unable (as people say) to sit still under
   it; <note place="foot" n="27" id="i.xiii-p2.2"><em id="i.xiii-p2.3">Lit</em>.: “There remains, as
      people say, no patience”; but, as the phrase “as people
      say” (which E. omits) suggests that this was a popular
      phrase, I have translated rather more freely and
      picturesquely. T. has (after “ache too”): “and it upsets
      us, and so on.”</note>and so on.</p>

<p id="i.xiii-p3">This is not so with spiritual affection. Although the weakness
   of our nature may at first allow us to feel something of all
   this, our reason soon begins to reflect whether our friend’s
   trials are not good for her, and to wonder if they are making
   her richer in virtue and how she is bearing them, and then we
   shall ask God to give her patience so that they may win her
   merit. If we see that she is being patient, we feel no
   distress—indeed, we are gladdened and consoled. If all the
   merit and gain which suffering is capable of producing could
   be made over to her, we should still prefer suffering her
   trial ourselves to seeing her suffer it, but we are not
   worried or disquieted.</p>

<p id="i.xiii-p4">I repeat once more that this love is a similitude and copy of
   that which was borne for us by the good Lover, Jesus. It is
   for that reason that it brings us such immense benefits, for
   it makes us embrace every kind of suffering, so that others,
   without having to endure the suffering, may gain its
   advantages. The recipients of this friendship, then, profit
   greatly, but their friends should realize that either this
   intercourse—I mean, this exclusive friendship—must come
   to an end or that they must prevail upon Our Lord that their
   friend may walk in the same way as themselves, as Saint Monica
   prevailed with Him for Saint Augustine. Their heart does not
   allow them to practise duplicity: if they see their friend
   straying from the road, or committing any faults, they will
   speak to her about it; they cannot allow themselves to do
   anything else.  And if after this the loved one does not
   amend, they will not flatter her or hide anything from her.
   Either, then, she will amend or their friendship will cease;
   for otherwise they would be unable to endure it, nor is it in
   fact endurable. It would mean continual war for both parties.
   A person may be indifferent to all other people in the world
   and not worry whether they are serving God or not, since the
   person she has to worry about is herself. But she cannot take
   this attitude with her friends: nothing they do can be hidden
   from her; she sees the smallest mote in them. This, I repeat,
   is a very heavy cross for her to bear.</p>

<p id="i.xiii-p5"><em id="i.xiii-p5.1">Happy the souls that are loved by such as these! Happy the
      day on which they came to know them! O my Lord, wilt Thou
      not grant me the favour of giving me many who have such
      love for me? Truly, Lord, I would rather have this than be
      loved by all the kings and lords of the world—and
      rightly so, for such friends use every means in their power
      to make us lords of the whole world and to have all that is
      in it subject to us. When you make the acquaintance of any
      such persons, sisters, the Mother Prioress should employ
      every possible effort to keep you in touch with them.  Love
      such persons as much as you like. There can be very few of
      them, but none the less it is the Lord’s will that their
      goodness should be known. When one of you is striving after
      perfection, she will at once be told that she has no need
      to know such people—that it is enough for her to have
      God. But to get to know God’s friends is a very good way of
      “having” Him; as I have discovered by experience, it is
      most helpful. For, under the Lord, I owe it to such persons
      that I am not in hell; I was always very fond of asking
      them to commend me to God, and so I prevailed upon them to
      do so.</em></p>

<p id="i.xiii-p6"><em id="i.xiii-p6.1">Let us now return to what we were saying</em>. It is this
   kind of love which I should like us to have; at first it may
   not be perfect but the Lord will make it increasingly so. Let
   us begin with the methods of obtaining it. At first it may be
   mingled with emotion, <note place="foot" n="28" id="i.xiii-p6.2"><em id="i.xiii-p6.3">Ternura.
         Lit</em>.: ’‘tenderness.”</note>but this, as a rule,
   will do no harm. It is sometimes good and necessary for us to
   show emotion in our love, and also to feel it, and to be
   distressed by some of our sisters, trials and weaknesses,
   however trivial they may be. For on one occasion as much
   distress may be caused by quite a small matter as would be
   caused on another by some great trial, and there are people
   whose nature it is to be very much cast down by small things.
   If you are not like this, do not neglect to have compassion on
   others; it may be that Our Lord wishes to spare us these
   sufferings and will give us sufferings of another kind which
   will seem heavy to us, though to the person already mentioned
   they may seem light. In these matters, then, we must not judge
   others by ourselves, nor think of ourselves as we have been at
   some time when, perhaps without any effort on our part, the
   Lord has made us stronger than they; let us think of what we
   were like at the times when we have been weakest.</p>

<p id="i.xiii-p7">Note the importance of this advice for those of us who would
   learn to sympathize with our neighbours’ trials, however
   trivial these may be. It is especially important for such
   souls as have been described, for, desiring trials as they do,
   they make light of them all. They must therefore try hard to
   recall what they were like when they were weak, and reflect
   that, if they are no longer so, it is not due to themselves.
   For otherwise, little by little, the devil could easily cool
   our charity toward our neighbours and make us think that what
   is really a failing on our part is perfection. In every
   respect we must be careful and alert, for the devil never
   slumbers. And the nearer we are to perfection, the more
   careful we must be, since his temptations are then much more
   cunning because there are no others that he dare send us; and
   if, as I say, we are not cautious, the harm is done before we
   realize it. In short, we must always watch and pray, for there
   is no better way than prayer of revealing these hidden wiles
   of the devil and making him declare his presence.</p>

<p id="i.xiii-p8">Contrive always, even if you do not care for it, to take part
   in your sisters’ necessary recreation and to do so for the
   whole of the allotted time, for all considerate treatment of
   them is a part of perfect love. It is a very good thing for us
   to take compassion on each others’ needs. See that you show no
   lack of discretion about things which are contrary to
   obedience. Though privately you may think the prioress’ orders
   harsh ones, do not allow this to be noticed or tell anyone
   about it (except that you may speak of it, with all humility,
   to the prioress herself), for if you did so you would be doing
   a great deal of harm. Get to know what are the things in your
   sisters which you should be sorry to see and those about which
   you should sympathize with them; and always show your grief at
   any notorious fault which you may see in one of them. It is
   a good proof and test of our love if we can bear with such
   faults and not be shocked by them. Others, in their turn, will
   bear with your faults, which, if you include those of which
   you are not aware, must be much more numerous. Often commend
   to God any sister who is at fault and strive for your own part
   to practise the virtue which is the opposite of her fault with
   great perfection. Make determined efforts to do this so that
   you may teach your sister by your deeds what perhaps she could
   never learn by words nor gain by punishment.</p>

<p id="i.xiii-p9">The habit of performing some conspicuously virtuous action
   through seeing it performed by another is one which very
   easily takes root. This is good advice: do not forget it. Oh,
   how true and genuine will be the love of a sister who can
   bring profit to everyone by sacrificing her own profit to that
   of the rest! She will make a great advance in each of the
   virtues and keep her Rule with great perfection. This will be
   a much truer kind of friendship than one which uses every
   possible loving expression (such as are not used, and must not
   be used, in this house): “My life!” “My love!” “My darling!”
   <note place="foot" n="29" id="i.xiii-p9.1"><em id="i.xiii-p9.2">Lit</em>.: “My life!” “My soul!” “My
      good!”</note>and suchlike things, one or another of which
   people are always saying. Let such endearing words be kept for
   your Spouse, for you will be so often and so much alone With
   Him that you will want to make use of them all, and this His
   Majesty permits you. If you use them among yourselves they
   will not move the Lord so much; and, quite apart from that,
   there is no reason why you should do so. They are very
   effeminate; and I should not like you to be that, or even to
   appear to be that, in any way, my daughters; I want you to be
   strong men. If you do all that is in you, the Lord will make
   you so manly that men themselves will be amazed at you. And
   how easy is this for His Majesty, Who made us out of nothing
   at all!</p>

<p id="i.xiii-p10">It is also a very clear sign of love to try to spare others
   household work by taking it upon oneself and also to rejoice
   and give great praise to the Lord if you see any increase in
   their virtues. All such things, quite apart from the intrinsic
   good they bring, add greatly to the peace and concord which we
   have among ourselves, as, through the goodness of God, We can
   now see by experience. May His Majesty be pleased ever to
   increase it, for it would be terrible if it did not exist, and
   very awkward if, when there are so few of us, we got on badly
   together. May God forbid that.</p>

<p id="i.xiii-p11">If one of you should be cross with another because of some
   hasty word, the matter must at once be put right and you must
   betake yourselves to earnest prayer. The same applies to the
   harbouring of any grudge, or to party strife, or to the desire
   to be greatest, or to any nice point concerning your honour.
   (My blood seems to run cold, as I write this, at the very idea
   that this can ever happen, but I know it is the chief trouble
   in convents.) If it should happen to you, consider yourselves
   lost. Just reflect and realize that you have driven your
   Spouse from His home: He will have to go and seek another
   abode, since you are driving Him from His own house. Cry aloud
   to His Majesty and try to put things right; and if frequent
   confessions and communions do not mend them, you may well fear
   that there is some Judas among you.</p>

<p id="i.xiii-p12">For the love of God, let the prioress be most careful not to
   allow this to occur. She must put a stop to it from the very
   outset, <em id="i.xiii-p12.1">and, if love will not suffice, she must use heavy
      punishments</em>, for here we have the whole of the
   mischief and the remedy. If you gather that any of the nuns is
   making trouble, see that she is sent to some other convent and
   God will provide them with a dowry for her. Drive away this
   plague; cut off the branches as well as you can; and, if that
   is not sufficient, pull up the roots. If you cannot do this,
   shut up anyone who is guilty of such things and forbid her to
   leave her cell; far better this than that all the nuns should
   catch so incurable a plague. Oh, what a great evil is this!
   God deliver us from a convent into which it enters: I would
   rather our convent caught fire and we were all burned alive.
   As this is so important I think I shall say a little more
   about it elsewhere, so I will not write at greater length
   here, <em id="i.xiii-p12.2">except to say that, provided they treat each other
      equally, I would rather that the nuns showed a tender and
      affectionate love and regard for each other, even though
      there is less perfection in this than in the love I have
      described, than that there were a single note of discord to
      be heard among them.  May the Lord forbid this, for His own
      sake. Amen</em>.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="8" title="Treats of the great benefit of    self-detachment, both interior and exterior, from all things    created" shorttitle="Section 8" progress="27.20%" id="i.xiv" prev="i.xiii" next="i.xv">

<h1 id="i.xiv-p0.1">CHAPTER 8<br /> Treats of the great benefit of
   self-detachment, both interior and exterior, from all things
   created.</h1>

<p id="i.xiv-p1">Let us now come to the detachment which we must practise, for
   if this is carried out perfectly it includes everything else.
   I say “it includes everything else” because, if we care
   nothing for any created things, but embrace the Creator alone,
   His Majesty will infuse the virtues into us in such a way
   that, provided we labour to the best of our abilities day by
   day, we shall not have to wage war much longer, for the Lord
   will take our defence in hand against the devils and against
   the whole world. Do you suppose, daughters, that it is a small
   benefit to obtain for ourselves this blessing of giving
   ourselves wholly to Him, <note place="foot" n="30" id="i.xiv-p1.1"><em id="i.xiv-p1.2">Lit.: de
         darnos todas a Él todo:</em> “giving ourselves wholly to
      Him wholly.”</note>and keeping nothing for ourselves?
   Since, as I say, all blessings are in Him, let us give Him
   hearty praise, sisters, for having brought us together here,
   where we are occupied in this alone. I do not know why I am
   saying this, when all of you here are capable of teaching me,
   for I confess that, in this important respect, I am not as
   perfect as I should like to be and as I know I ought to be;
   and I must say the same about all the virtues and about all
   that I am dealing with here, for it is easier to write of such
   things than to practise them. I may not even be able to write
   of them effectively, for sometimes ability to do this comes
   only from experience—[that is to say, if I have any
   success, it must be because] I explain the nature of these
   virtues by describing the contraries of the qualities I myself
   possess.</p>

<p id="i.xiv-p2">As far as exterior matters are concerned, you know how
   completely cut off we are from everything. <em id="i.xiv-p2.1">Oh, my Creator
      and Lord! When have I merited so great an honour? Thou
      seemest to have searched everywhere for means of drawing
      nearer to us. May it please Thy goodness that we lose not
      this through our own fault</em>. Oh, sisters, for the love
   of God, try to realize what a great favour the Lord has
   bestowed on those of us whom He has brought here. Let each of
   you apply this to herself, since there are only twelve of us
   <note place="foot" n="31" id="i.xiv-p2.2">The thirteenth was St. Teresa.</note>and
   His Majesty has been pleased for you to be one. How many
   people—<em id="i.xiv-p2.3">what a multitude of people!</em>—do I know
   who are better than myself and would gladly take this place of
   mine, yet the Lord has granted it to me who so ill deserve it!
   Blessed be Thou, my God, and let <em id="i.xiv-p2.4">the angels and</em> all
   created things praise Thee, for I can no more repay this
   favour than all the others Thou hast shown me. It was
   a wonderful thing to give me the vocation to be a nun; but
   I have been so wicked, Lord, that Thou couldst not trust me.
   In a place where there were many good women living together my
   wickedness would not <em id="i.xiv-p2.5">perhaps</em> have been noticed right
   down to the end of my life: <em id="i.xiv-p2.6">I should have concealed it, as
      I did for so many years</em>. So Thou didst bring me here,
   where, as there are so few of us that it would seem impossible
   for it to remain unnoticed, Thou dost remove occasions of sin
   from me so that I may walk the more carefully. There is no
   excuse for me, then, O Lord, I confess it, and so I have need
   of Thy mercy, that Thou mayest pardon me.</p>

<p id="i.xiv-p3"><em id="i.xiv-p3.1">Remember, my sisters, that if we are not good we are much
      more to blame than others</em>. What I earnestly beg of you
   is that anyone who knows she will be unable to follow our
   customs will say so [before she is professed]: there are other
   convents in which the Lord is also well served and she should
   not remain here and disturb these few of us whom His Majesty
   has brought together <em id="i.xiv-p3.2">for His service</em>. In other
   convents nuns are free to have the pleasure of seeing their
   relatives, whereas here, if relatives are ever admitted, it is
   only for their own pleasure. A nun who [very much] wishes to
   see her relatives in order to please herself, <em id="i.xiv-p3.3">and does not
      get tired of them after the second visit</em>, must, unless
   they are spiritual persons <em id="i.xiv-p3.4">and do her soul some good</em>,
   consider herself imperfect and realize that she is neither
   detached nor healthy, and will have no freedom of spirit or
   perfect peace. She needs a physician—and I consider that if
   this desire does not leave her, and she is not cured, she is
   not intended for this house.</p>

<p id="i.xiv-p4">The best remedy, I think, is that she should not see her
   relatives again until she feels free in spirit and has
   obtained this freedom from God by many prayers. When she looks
   upon such visits as crosses, let her receive them by all
   means, for then they will do the visitors good and herself no
   harm. <em id="i.xiv-p4.1">But if she is fond of the visitors, if their
      troubles are a great distress to her and if she delights in
      listening to the stories which they tell her about the
      world, she may be sure that she will do herself harm and do
      them no good</em>.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="9" title="Treats of the great blessing    that shunning their relatives brings to those who have left    the world and shows how by doing so they will find truer    friends" shorttitle="Section 9" progress="28.28%" id="i.xv" prev="i.xiv" next="i.xvi">

<h1 id="i.xv-p0.1">CHAPTER 9<br /> Treats of the great blessing that shunning
   their relatives brings to those who have left the world and
   shows how by doing so they will find truer friends.</h1>

<p id="i.xv-p1">Oh, if we religious understood what harm we get from having so
   much to do with our relatives, how we should shun them! do not
   see what pleasure they can give us, or how, quite apart from
   <em id="i.xv-p1.1">the harm they do us as touching</em> our obligations to
   God, they can bring us any peace or tranquillity. For we
   cannot take part in their recreations, as it is not lawful for
   us to do so; and, though we can certainly share their
   troubles, we can never help weeping for them, sometimes more
   than they do themselves. If they bring us any bodily comforts,
   there is no doubt that our spiritual life <em id="i.xv-p1.2">and our poor
      souls</em> will pay for it. From this you are [quite] free
   here; for, as you have everything in common and none of you
   may accept any private gift, all the alms given us being held
   by the community, you are under no obligation to entertain
   your relatives in return for what they give you, since, as you
   know, the Lord will provide for us all in common.</p>

<p id="i.xv-p2">I am astounded at the harm which intercourse with our
   relatives does us: I do not think anyone who had not
   experience of it would believe it. And how our religious
   Orders nowadays, <em id="i.xv-p2.1">or most of them, at any rate</em>, seem
   to be forgetting about perfection, <em id="i.xv-p2.2">though all, or most, of
      the saints wrote about it!</em> I do not know how much of
   the world we really leave when we say that we are leaving
   everything for God’s sake, if we do not withdraw ourselves
   from the chief thing of all—namely, our kinsfolk. The
   matter has reached such a pitch that some people think, when
   religious are not fond of their relatives and do not see much
   of them, it shows a want of virtue in them. And they not only
   assert this but allege reasons for it.</p>

<p id="i.xv-p3">In this house, daughters, we must be most careful to commend
   our relatives to God, for that is only right. For the rest, we
   must keep them out of our minds as much as we can, as it is
   natural that our desires should be attached to them more than
   to other people.  My own relatives were very fond of me, or so
   they used to say, and I was so fond of them that I would not
   let them forget me. But I have learned, by my own experience
   and by that of others, that it is God’s servants who have
   helped me in trouble; my relatives, apart from my parents,
   have helped me very little. Parents are different, for they
   very rarely fail to help their children, and it is right that
   when they need our comfort we should not refuse it them: if we
   find our main purpose is not harmed by our so doing we can
   give it them and yet be completely detached; and this also
   applies to brothers and sisters.</p>

<p id="i.xv-p4">Believe me, sisters, if you serve God as you should, you will
   find no better relatives than those [of His servants] whom His
   Majesty sends you. I know this is so, and, if you keep on as
   you are doing <em id="i.xv-p4.1">here</em>, and realize that by doing
   otherwise you will be failing your true Friend and Spouse, you
   may be sure that you will very soon gain this freedom. Then
   you will be able to trust those who love you for His sake
   alone more than all your relatives, and they will not fail
   you, so that you will find parents and brothers and sisters
   where you had never expected to find them. For these help us
   and look for their reward only from God; those who look for
   rewards from us soon grow tired of helping us when they see
   that we are poor and can do nothing for them. This cannot be
   taken as a generalization, but it is the most usual thing to
   happen in the world, for it is the world all over! If anyone
   tells you otherwise, and says it is a virtue to do such
   things, do not believe him. I should have to write at great
   length, <em id="i.xv-p4.2">in view of my lack of skill and my
      imperfection</em>, if I were to tell you of all the harm
   that comes from it; as others have written about it who know
   what they are talking about better than I, what I have said
   will suffice. If, imperfect as I am, I have been able to grasp
   as much as this, how much better will those who are perfect do
   so!</p>

<p id="i.xv-p5">All the advice which the saints give us about fleeing from the
   world is, of course, good. Believe me, then, attachment to our
   relatives is, as I have said, the thing which sticks to us
   most closely and is hardest to get rid of. People are right,
   therefore, when they flee from their own part of the country
   <note place="foot" n="32" id="i.xv-p5.1"><em id="i.xv-p5.2">De sus tierras</em>. The phrase will
      also bear the interpretation: “from their own
      countries.”</note>—if it helps them, I mean, for I do not
   think we are helped so much by fleeing from any place in
   a physical sense as by resolutely embracing the good Jesus,
   Our Lord, with the soul. Just as we find everything in Him, so
   for His sake we forget everything. Still, it is a great help,
   until we have learned this truth, to keep apart from our
   kinsfolk; later on, it may be that the Lord will wish us to
   see them again, so that what used to give us pleasure may be
   a cross to us.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="10" title="Teaches that detachment from    the things aforementioned is insufficient if we are not    detached from our own selves and that this virtue and humility    go together" shorttitle="Section 10" progress="29.39%" id="i.xvi" prev="i.xv" next="i.xvii">

<h1 id="i.xvi-p0.1">CHAPTER 10<br /> Teaches that detachment from the things
   aforementioned is insufficient if we are not detached from our
   own selves and that this virtue and humility go together.</h1>

<p id="i.xvi-p1">Once we have detached ourselves from the world, and from our
   kinsfolk, and are cloistered here, in the conditions already
   described, it must look as if we have done everything and
   there is nothing left with which we have to contend. But, oh,
   my sisters, do not feel secure and fall asleep, or you will be
   like a man who goes to bed quite peacefully, after bolting all
   his doors for fear of thieves, when the thieves are already in
   the house. And you know there is no worse thief <em id="i.xvi-p1.1">than one
      who lives in the house</em>.  We ourselves are always the
   same; <note place="foot" n="33" id="i.xvi-p1.2">The sense of this passage, especially
      without the phrase from E. which V. omits, is not very
      clear. T. remodels thus: “You know there is no worse thief
      for the perfection of the soul than the love of ourselves,
      for unless etc.”</note>unless we take great care and each
   of us looks well to it that she renounces her self-will, which
   is the most important business of all, there will be many
   things to deprive us of the holy freedom of spirit <em id="i.xvi-p1.3">which
      our souls</em> seek in order to soar to their Maker
   unburdened by the leaden weight of the earth.</p>

<p id="i.xvi-p2">It will be a great help towards this if we keep constantly in
   our thoughts the vanity of all things and the rapidity with
   which they pass away, so that we may withdraw our affections
   from things which are so trivial and fix them upon what will
   never come to an end. This may seem a poor kind of help but it
   will have the effect of greatly fortifying the soul. With
   regard to small things, we must be very careful, as soon as we
   begin to grow fond of them, to withdraw our thoughts from them
   and turn them to God. His Majesty will help us to do this. He
   has granted us the great favour of providing that, in this
   house, most of it is done already; <em id="i.xvi-p2.1">but it remains for us
      to become detached from our own selves</em> and it is
   a hard thing to withdraw from ourselves and oppose ourselves,
   because we are very close to ourselves and love ourselves very
   dearly.</p>

<p id="i.xvi-p3">It is here that true humility can enter, <note place="foot" n="34" id="i.xvi-p3.1">Here, in the margin, is written: “Humility and
      mortification, very great virtues.”</note>for this virtue
   and that of detachment from self, I think, always go together.
   They are two sisters, who are inseparable. These are not the
   kinsfolk whom I counsel you to avoid: no, you must embrace
   them, and love them, and never be seen without them. Oh, how
   sovereign are these virtues, mistresses of all created things,
   empresses of the world, our deliverers from all the snares and
   entanglements laid by the devil so dearly loved by our
   Teacher, Christ, Who was never for a moment without them! He
   that possesses them can safely go out and fight all the united
   forces of hell and the whole world and its temptations. Let
   him fear none, for his is the kingdom of the Heavens. There is
   none whom he need fear, for he cares nothing if he loses
   everything, nor does he count this as loss: his sole fear is
   that he may displease his God and he begs Him to nourish these
   virtues within him lest he lose them through any fault of his
   own.</p>

<p id="i.xvi-p4">These virtues, it is true, have the property of hiding
   themselves from one who possesses them, in such a way that he
   never sees them nor can believe that he has any of them, even
   if he be told so. But he esteems them so much that he is for
   ever trying to obtain them, and thus he perfects them in
   himself more and more.  And those who possess them soon make
   the fact clear, even against their will, to any with whom they
   have intercourse. But how inappropriate it is for a person
   like myself to begin to praise humility and mortification,
   when these virtues are so highly praised by the King of Glory
—a praise exemplified in all the trials He suffered. It is
   to possess these virtues, then, my daughters, that you must
   labour if you would leave the land of Egypt, for, when you
   have obtained them, you will also obtain the manna; all things
   will taste well to you; and, however much the world may
   dislike their savour, to you they will be sweet.</p>

<p id="i.xvi-p5">The first thing, then, that we have to do, <em id="i.xvi-p5.1">and that at
      once</em>, is to rid ourselves of love for this body of
   ours—and some of us pamper our natures so much that this
   will cause us no little labour, <em id="i.xvi-p5.2">while others</em> are so
   concerned about their health that the trouble these things
   give us (this is especially so of <em id="i.xvi-p5.3">poor</em> nuns, but it
   applies to others as well) is amazing. Some of us, however,
   seem to think that we embraced the religious life for no other
   reason than to keep ourselves alive <note place="foot" n="35" id="i.xvi-p5.4"><em id="i.xvi-p5.5">Lit</em>.: “to contrive not to die.” But
      the reading of E. (“to think that we came to the convent
      for no other reason than to serve our bodies and look after
      them”) suggests that this is what is meant.</note>and each
   nun does all she can to that end. In this house, as a matter
   of fact, there is very little chance for us to act on such
   a principle, but I should be sorry if we even wanted to.
   Resolve, sisters, that it is to die for Christ, and not to
   practise self-indulgence for Christ, that you have come here.
   The devil tells us that self-indulgence is necessary if we are
   to carry out and keep the Rule of our Order, and so many of
   us, forsooth, try to keep our Rule by looking after our health
   that we die without having kept it for as long as a month—
   perhaps even for a day. I really do not know what we are
   coming to.</p>

<p id="i.xvi-p6">No one need be afraid of our committing excesses here, by any
   chance—for as soon as we do any penances our confessors
   begin to fear that we shall kill ourselves with them. We are
   so horrified at our own possible excesses—if only we were
   as conscientious about everything else! Those who tend to the
   opposite extreme will I know, not mind my saying this, nor
   shall I mind if they say I am judging others by myself, for
   they will be quite right. <em id="i.xvi-p6.1">I believe—indeed, I am sure
—that more nuns are of my way of thinking than are
      offended by me because they do just the opposite</em>. My
   own belief is that it is for this reason that the Lord is
   pleased to make us such weakly creatures; at least He has
   shown me great mercy in making me so; for, as I was sure to be
   self-indulgent in any case, He was pleased to provide me with
   an excuse for this. It is really amusing to see how some
   people torture themselves about it, when the real reason lies
   in themselves; sometimes they get a desire to do penances, as
   one might say, without rhyme or reason; they go on doing them
   for a couple of days; and then the devil puts it into their
   heads that they have been doing themselves harm and so he
   makes them afraid of penances, after which they dare not do
   even those that the Order requires—they have tried them
   once! They do not keep the smallest points in the Rule, such
   as silence, which is quite incapable of harming us. Hardly
   have we begun to imagine that our heads are aching than we
   stay away from choir, though that would not kill us either.
   <em id="i.xvi-p6.2">One day we are absent because we had a headache some time
      ago; another day, because our head has just been aching
      again; and on the next three days in case it should ache
      once more</em>. Then we want to invent penances of our own,
   with the result that we do neither the one thing nor the
   other.  Sometimes there is very little the matter with us, yet
   we think that it should dispense us from all our obligations
   and that if we ask to be excused from them we are doing all we
   need.</p>

<p id="i.xvi-p7">But why, you will say, does the Prioress excuse us? Perhaps
   she would not if she knew what was going on inside us; but
   <em id="i.xvi-p7.1">she sees one of you wailing about a mere nothing as if
      your heart were breaking, and you come and ask her to
      excuse you from keeping the whole of your Rule, saying it
      is a matter of great necessity, and, when there is any
      substance in what you say</em>, there is always a physician
   at hand to confirm it or some friend or relative weeping at
   your side. <em id="i.xvi-p7.2">Sometimes the poor Prioress sees that your
      request is excessive, but</em> what can she do? She feels
   a scruple if she thinks she has been lacking in charity and
   she would rather the fault were yours than hers: <em id="i.xvi-p7.3">she
      thinks, too, that it would be unjust of her to judge you
      harshly</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xvi-p8"><em id="i.xvi-p8.1">Oh, God help me! That there should be complaining like
      this among nuns! May He forgive me for saying so, but I am
      afraid it has become quite a habit. I happened to observe
      this incident once myself: a nun began complaining about
      her headaches and she went on complaining to me for a long
      time. In the end I made enquiries and found she had no
      headache whatever, but was suffering from some pain or
      other elsewhere</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xvi-p9">These are things which may sometimes happen and I put them
   down here so that you may guard against them; for if once the
   devil begins to frighten us about losing our health, we shall
   never get anywhere. The Lord give us light so that we may act
   rightly in everything! Amen.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="11" title="Continues to treat of    mortification and describes how it may be attained in times of    sickness" shorttitle="Section 11" progress="31.38%" id="i.xvii" prev="i.xvi" next="i.xviii">

<h1 id="i.xvii-p0.1">CHAPTER 11<br /> Continues to treat of mortification and
   describes how it may be attained in times of sickness.</h1>

<p id="i.xvii-p1">These continual moanings which we make about trifling
   ailments, my sisters, seem to me a sign of imperfection: if
   you can bear a thing, say nothing about it. When the ailment
   is serious, it proclaims itself; that is quite another kind of
   moaning, which draws attention to itself immediately.
   Remember, there are only a few of you, and if one of you gets
   into this habit she will worry all the rest—that is,
   assuming you love each other and there is charity among you.
   On the other hand, if one of you is really ill, she should say
   so and take the necessary remedies; and, if you have got rid
   of your self-love, you will so much regret having to indulge
   yourselves in any way that there will be no fear of your doing
   so unnecessarily or of your making a moan without proper
   cause. When such a reason exists, it would be much worse to
   say nothing about it than to allow yourselves unnecessary
   indulgence, and it would be very wrong if everybody were not
   sorry for you.</p>

<p id="i.xvii-p2">However, I am quite sure that where there is <em id="i.xvii-p2.1">prayer
      and</em> charity among you, and your numbers are so small
   <em id="i.xvii-p2.2">that you will be aware of each other’s needs</em>, there
   will never be any lack of care in your being looked after. Do
   not think of complaining about the weaknesses and minor
   ailments from which women suffer, for the devil sometimes
   makes you imagine them. They come and go; and unless you get
   rid of the habit of talking about them and complaining of
   everything (except to God) you will never come to the end of
   them. <em id="i.xvii-p2.3">I lay great stress on this, for I believe myself it
      is important, and it is one of the reasons for the
      relaxation of discipline in religious houses</em>. For this
   body of ours has one fault: the more you indulge it, the more
   things it discovers to be essential to it. It is extraordinary
   how it likes being indulged; and, if there is any reasonable
   pretext for indulgence, however little necessity for it there
   may be, the poor soul is taken in and prevented from making
   progress. Think how many poor people there must be who are ill
   and have no one to complain to, for poverty and
   self-indulgence make bad company. Think, too, how many married
   women—people of position, as I know—have serious
   complaints and sore trials and yet dare not complain to their
   husbands about them for fear of annoying them. Sinner that
   I am! Surely we have not come here to indulge ourselves more
   than they! Oh, how free you are from the great trials of the
   world!  Learn to suffer a little for the love of God without
   telling everyone about it. When a woman has made an unhappy
   marriage she does not talk about it or complain of it, lest it
   should come to her husband’s knowledge, she has to endure
   a great deal of misery and yet has no one to whom she may
   relieve her mind. Cannot we, then, keep secret between God and
   ourselves some of the ailments which He sends us because of
   our sins? The more so since talking about them does nothing
   whatever to alleviate them.</p>

<p id="i.xvii-p3">In nothing that I have said am I referring to serious
   illnesses, accompanied by high fever, though as to these, too,
   I beg you to observe moderation and to have patience: I am
   thinking rather of those minor indispositions which you may
   have and still keep going <note place="foot" n="36" id="i.xvii-p3.1"><em id="i.xvii-p3.2">Lit</em>.:
      “which can be suffered on foot.”</note><em id="i.xvii-p3.3">without worrying
      everybody else to death over them.</em> What would happen
   if these lines should be seen outside this house? What would
   all the nuns say of me! And how willingly would I bear what
   they said if it helped anyone to live a better life! For when
   there is one person of this kind, the thing generally comes to
   such a pass that <em id="i.xvii-p3.4">some suffer on account of others,
      and</em> nobody who says she is ill will be believed,
   however serious her ailment. <em id="i.xvii-p3.5">As this book is meant only
      for my daughters, they will put up with everything
      I say</em>. Let us remember our holy Fathers of past days,
   the hermits whose lives we attempt to imitate. What sufferings
   they bore, what solitude, cold, [thirst] and hunger, what
   burning sun and heat! And yet they had no one to complain to
   except God. Do you suppose they were made of iron? No: they
   were as frail as we are. Believe me, daughters, once we begin
   to subdue these miserable bodies of ours, they give us much
   less trouble. There will be quite sufficient people to see to
   what you really need, <note place="foot" n="37" id="i.xvii-p3.6"><em id="i.xvii-p3.7">Lit</em>.: “to
      look at (or to) what is needful”—the phrase is ambiguous
      and might mean: “to worry about their own needs.” The word
      translated “people” is feminine.</note>so take no thought
   for yourselves except when you know it to be necessary. Unless
   we resolve to put up with death and ill-health once and for
   all, we shall never accomplish anything.</p>

<p id="i.xvii-p4">Try not to fear these and commit yourselves wholly to God,
   come what may. What does it matter if we die? How many times
   have our bodies not mocked us? Should we not occasionally mock
   them in our turn? And, believe me, <em id="i.xvii-p4.1">slight as it may seem
      by comparison with other things</em>, this resolution is
   much more important than we may think; for, if we continually
   make it, day by day, by the grace of the Lord, we shall gain
   dominion over the body. To conquer such an enemy is a great
   achievement in the battle of life. May the Lord grant, as He
   is able, that we may do this. I am quite sure that no one who
   does not enjoy such a victory, which I believe is a great one,
   will understand what advantage it brings, and no one will
   regret having gone through trials in order to attain this
   tranquillity and self-mastery.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="12" title="Teaches that the true lover of    God must care little for life and honour" shorttitle="Section 12" progress="32.62%" id="i.xviii" prev="i.xvii" next="i.xix">

<h1 id="i.xviii-p0.1">CHAPTER 12<br /> Teaches that the true lover of God must care
   little for life and honour.</h1>

<p id="i.xviii-p1">We now come to some other <em id="i.xviii-p1.1">little</em> things which are
   also of very great importance, though they will appear
   trifling. All this seems a great task, and so it is, for it
   means warring against ourselves. But once we begin to work,
   God, too, works in our souls and bestows such favours on them
   that the most we can do in this life seems to us very little.
   And we nuns are doing everything we can, by giving up our
   freedom for the love of God and entrusting it to another, and
   in putting up with so many trials—fasts, silence,
   enclosure, service in choir—that however much we may want
   to indulge ourselves we can do so only occasionally: perhaps,
   in all the convents I have seen, I am the only nun guilty of
   self-indulgence. Why, then, do we shrink from interior
   mortification, since this is the means by which every other
   kind of mortification may become much more meritorious and
   perfect, so that it can then be practised with greater
   tranquillity and ease? This, as I have said, is acquired by
   gradual progress and by never indulging our own will and
   desire, even in small things, until we have succeeded in
   subduing the body to the spirit.</p>

<p id="i.xviii-p2">I repeat that this consists mainly or entirely in our ceasing
   to care about ourselves and our own pleasures, for the least
   that anyone who is beginning to serve the Lord truly can offer
   Him is his life. Once he has surrendered his will to Him, what
   has he to fear? It is evident that if he is a true religious
   and a real man of prayer and aspires to the enjoyment of
   Divine consolations, he must not [turn back or] shrink from
   desiring to die and suffer martyrdom for His sake. And do you
   not know, sisters, that the life of a good religious, who
   wishes to be among the closest friends of God, is one long
   martyrdom? I say “long”, for, by comparison with decapitation,
   which is over very quickly, it may well be termed so, though
   life itself is short and some lives are short in the extreme.
   How do we know but that ours will be so short that it may end
   only one hour or one moment after the time of our resolving to
   render our entire service to God? This would be quite
   possible; and so we must not set store by anything that comes
   to an end, <em id="i.xviii-p2.1">least of all by life, since not a day of it is
      secure</em>.  Who, if he thought that each hour might be
   his last, would not spend it in labour?</p>

<p id="i.xviii-p3">Believe me, it is safest to think that this is so; by so doing
   we shall learn to subdue our wills in everything; for if, as
   I have said, you are very careful <em id="i.xviii-p3.1">about your prayer</em>,
   you will soon find yourselves gradually reaching the summit of
   the mountain without knowing how. But how harsh it sounds to
   say that we must take pleasure in nothing, unless we also say
   what consolations and delights this renunciation brings in its
   train, and what a great gain it is, even in this life! What
   security it gives us! Here, as you all practise this, you have
   done the principal part; each of you encourages <note place="foot" n="38" id="i.xviii-p3.2"><em id="i.xviii-p3.3">Lit</em>.: “awakens.”</note>and helps the
   rest; and each of you must try to outstrip her sisters.</p>

<p id="i.xviii-p4">Be very careful about your interior thoughts, especially if
   they have to do with precedence. May God, by His Passion, keep
   us from expressing, or dwelling upon, such thoughts as these:
   “But I am her senior [in the Order]”; “But I am older”; “But
   I have worked harder”; “But that other sister is being better
   treated than I am”.  If these thoughts come, you must quickly
   check them; if you allow yourselves to dwell on them, or
   introduce them into your conversation, they will spread like
   the plague and <em id="i.xviii-p4.1">in religious houses</em> they may give rise
   to great abuses. <em id="i.xviii-p4.2">Remember, I know a great deal about
      this</em>. If you have a prioress who allows such things,
   however trifling, you must believe that God has permitted her
   to be given to you because of your sins and that she will be
   the beginning of your ruin. <em id="i.xviii-p4.3">Cry to Him, and let your whole
      prayer be that He may come to your aid by sending you
      either a religious or a person given to prayer; for, if
      anyone prays with the resolve to enjoy the favours and
      consolations which God bestows in prayer, it is always well
      that he should have this detachment</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xviii-p5">You may ask why I lay such stress on this, and think that I am
   being too severe about it, and say that God grants
   consolations to persons less completely detached than that.
   I quite believe He does; for, in His infinite wisdom, He sees
   that this will enable Him to lead them to leave everything for
   His sake. I do not mean, by “leaving” everything, entering the
   religious life, for there may be obstacles to this, and the
   soul that is perfect can be detached and humble anywhere. It
   will find detachment harder in the world, however, for worldly
   trappings will be a great impediment to it.  Still, believe me
   in this: questions of honour and <em id="i.xviii-p5.1">desires for</em> property
   can arise within convents as well as outside them, and the
   more temptations of this kind are removed from us, the more we
   are to blame if we yield to them. Though persons who do so may
   have spent years in prayer, or rather in meditation (for
   perfect prayer eventually destroys [all] these attachments),
   they will never make great progress or come to enjoy the real
   fruit of prayer.</p>

<p id="i.xviii-p6">Ask yourselves, sisters, if these things, <em id="i.xviii-p6.1">which seem so
      insignificant</em>, mean anything to you, for the only
   reason you are here is that you may detach yourselves from
   them. Nobody honours you any the more for having them and they
   lose you advantages which might have gained you more honour;
   the result is that you get both dishonour and loss at the same
   time. Let each of you ask herself how much humility she has
   and she will see what progress she has made. If she is really
   humble, I do not think the devil will dare to tempt her to
   take even the slightest interest in matters of precedence, for
   he is so shrewd that he is afraid of the blow she would strike
   him. If a humble soul is tempted in this way by the devil,
   that virtue cannot fail to bring her more fortitude and
   greater profit. For clearly the temptation will cause her to
   look into her life, to compare the services she has rendered
   the Lord with what she owes Him and with the marvellous way in
   which He abased Himself to give us an example of humility, and
   to think over her sins and remember where she deserves to be
   on account of them.  Exercises like this bring the soul such
   profit that on the following day Satan will not dare to come
   back again lest he should get his head broken.</p>

<p id="i.xviii-p7">Take this advice from me and do not forget it: you should see
   to it that your sisters profit by your temptations, not only
   interiorly (where it would be very wrong if they did not), but
   exteriorly as well. If you want to avenge yourself on the
   devil and free yourselves more quickly from temptation, ask
   the superior, as soon as a temptation comes to you, to give
   you some lowly office to do, or do some such thing, as best
   you can, on our own initiative, studying as you do it how to
   bend your will to perform tasks you dislike. The Lord will
   show you ways of doing so and this will soon rid you of the
   temptation.</p>

<p id="i.xviii-p8">God deliver us from people who wish to serve Him yet who are
   mindful of their own honour. Reflect how little they gain from
   this; for, as I have said, the very act of desiring honour
   robs us of it, especially in matters of precedence: there is
   no poison in the world which is so fatal to perfection. You
   will say that these are little things which have to do with
   human nature and are not worth troubling about; do not trifle
   with them, for <em id="i.xviii-p8.1">in religious houses</em> they spread like
   foam on water, and there is no small matter so extremely
   dangerous as are punctiliousness about honour and
   sensitiveness to insult. Do you know one reason, apart from
   many others, why this is so? <note place="foot" n="39" id="i.xviii-p8.2"><em id="i.xviii-p8.3">Lit</em>.:
      “Do you know why, apart from other things?”</note>It may
   have its root, perhaps, in some trivial slight—hardly
   anything, in fact—and the devil will then induce someone
   else to consider it important, so that she will think it
   a real charity to tell you about it and to ask how you can
   allow yourself to be insulted so; and she will pray that God
   may give you patience and that you may offer it to Him, for
   even a saint could not bear more. The devil is simply putting
   his deceitfulness into this other person’s mouth; and, though
   you yourself are quite ready to bear the slight, you are
   tempted to vainglory because you have not resisted something
   else as perfectly as you should.</p>

<p id="i.xviii-p9">This human nature of ours is so <em id="i.xviii-p9.1">wretchedly</em> weak that,
   even while we are telling ourselves that there is nothing for
   us to make a fuss about, we imagine we are doing something
   virtuous, and begin to feel sorry for ourselves, particularly
   when we see that other people are sorry for us too. In this
   way the soul begins to lose the occasions of merit which it
   had gained; it becomes weaker; and thus a door is opened to
   the devil by which he can enter on some other occasion with
   a temptation worse than the last. It may even happen that,
   when you yourself are prepared to suffer an insult, your
   sisters come and ask you if you are a beast of burden, and say
   you ought to be more sensitive about things. Oh, my sisters,
   for the love of God, never let charity move you to show pity
   for another in anything to do with these fancied insults, for
   that is like the pity shown to holy Job by his wife and
   friends.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="13" title="Continues to treat of    mortification and explains how one must renounce the world's    standards of wisdom in order to attain to true wisdom" shorttitle="Section 13" progress="34.71%" id="i.xix" prev="i.xviii" next="i.xx">

<h1 id="i.xix-p0.1">CHAPTER 13<br /> Continues to treat of mortification and
   explains how one must renounce the world’s standards of wisdom
   in order to attain to true wisdom.</h1>

<p id="i.xix-p1">I often tell you, sisters, and now I want it to be set down in
   writing, not to forget that we in this house, and for that
   matter anyone who would be perfect, must flee a thousand
   leagues from such phrases as: “I had right on my side”; “They
   had no right to do this to me”; “The person who treated me
   like this was not right”. God deliver us from such a false
   idea of right as that! Do you think that it was right for our
   good Jesus to have to suffer so many insults, and that those
   who heaped them on Him<note place="foot" n="40" id="i.xix-p1.1"><em id="i.xix-p1.2">Lit</em>.: “did
      them to Him.”</note> were right, and that they had any
   right to do Him those wrongs? I do not know why anyone is in
   a convent who is willing to bear only the crosses that she has
   a perfect right to expect: such a person should return to the
   world, though even there such rights will not be safeguarded.
   Do you think you can ever possibly have to bear so much that
   you ought not to have to bear any more? How does right enter
   into the matter at all? I really do not know.</p>

<p id="i.xix-p2">Before we begin talking about not having our rights, let us
   wait until we receive some honour or gratification, or are
   treated kindly, for it is certainly not right that we should
   have anything in this life like that. When, on the other hand,
   some offence is done to us (and we do not feel it an offence
   to us that it should be so described), I do not see what we
   can find to complain of.  Either we are the brides of this
   great King or we are not. If we are, what wife is there with
   a sense of honour who does not accept her share in any
   dishonour done to her spouse, even though she may do so
   against her will? Each partner, in fact, shares in the honour
   and dishonour of the other. To desire to share in the kingdom
   [of our Spouse Jesus Christ], and to enjoy it, and yet not to
   be willing to have any part in His dishonours and trials, is
   ridiculous.</p>

<p id="i.xix-p3">God keep us from being like that! Let the sister who thinks
   that she is accounted the least among all consider herself the
   [happiest and] most fortunate, as indeed she <em id="i.xix-p3.1">really</em>
   is, if she lives her life as she should, for in that case she
   will, <em id="i.xix-p3.2">as a rule</em>, have no lack of honour either in
   this life or in the next. Believe me when I say this—what
   an absurdity, though, it is for me to say “Believe me” when
   the words come from Him Who is true Wisdom, <em id="i.xix-p3.3">Who is Truth
      Itself, and from the Queen of the angels</em>! Let us, my
   daughters, in some small degree, imitate the great humility of
   the most sacred Virgin, whose habit we wear and whose nuns we
   are ashamed to call ourselves. <em id="i.xix-p3.4">Let us at least imitate
      this humility of hers in some degree—I say “in some
      degree”</em> because, however much we may seem to humble
   ourselves, we fall far short of being the daughters of such
   a Mother, and the brides of such a Spouse. If, then, the
   habits I have described are not sternly checked, what seems
   nothing to-day will perhaps be a venial sin to-morrow, and
   that is so infectious a tendency that, if you leave it alone,
   the sin will not be the only one for long; and that is a very
   bad thing for communities.</p>

<p id="i.xix-p4">We who live in a community should consider this very
   carefully, so as not to harm those who labour to benefit us
   and to set us a good example. If we realize what great harm is
   done by the formation of a bad habit of
   <em id="i.xix-p4.1">over-punctiliousness about our honour,</em> we should
   rather die <em id="i.xix-p4.2">a thousand deaths</em> than be the cause of
   such a thing. For only the body would die, whereas the loss of
   a soul is a great loss which is apparently without end; some
   of us will die, but others will take our places and perhaps
   they may all be harmed more by the one bad habit which we
   started than they are benefited by many virtues. For the devil
   does not allow a single bad habit to disappear and the very
   weakness of our mortal nature destroys the virtues in us.</p>

<p id="i.xix-p5">Oh, what a real charity it would be, and what a service would
   be rendered to God, if any nun who sees that she cannot
   [endure and] conform to the customs of this house would
   recognize the fact and go away [before being professed, as
   I have said elsewhere], <em id="i.xix-p5.1">and leave the other sisters in
      peace! And no convent (at least, if it follows my advice)
      will take her or allow her to make her profession until
      they have given her many years’ probation to see if she
      improves. I am not referring to shortcomings affecting
      penances and fasts, for, although these are wrong, they are
      not things which do so much harm. I am thinking of nuns who
      are of such a temperament that they like to be esteemed and
      made much of; who see the faults of others but never
      recognize their own; and who are deficient in other ways
      like these, the true source of which is want of humility.
      If God does not help such a person by bestowing great
      spirituality upon her, until after many years she becomes
      greatly improved, may God preserve you from keeping her in
      your community. For you must realize that she will neither
      have peace there herself nor allow you to have
      any.</em></p>

<p id="i.xix-p6"><em id="i.xix-p6.1">As you do not take dowries, God is very gracious to you in
      this respect. It grieves me that religious houses should
      often harbour one who is a thief and robs them of their
      treasure, either because they are unwilling to return
      a dowry or out of regard for the relatives. In this house
      you have risked losing worldly honour and forgone it (for
      no such honour is paid to those who are poor); do not
      desire, then, that others should be honoured at such a cost
      to yourselves. Our honour, sisters, must lie in the service
      of God, and, if anyone thinks to hinder you in this, she
      had better keep her honour and stay at home. It was with
      this in mind that our Fathers ordered a year’s probation
      (which in our Order we are free to extend to four years):
      personally, I should like it to be prolonged to ten years.
      A humble nun will mind very little if she is not professed:
      for she knows that if she is good she will not be sent
      away, and if she is not, why should she wish to do harm to
      one of Christ’s communities?</em><note place="foot" n="41" id="i.xix-p6.2"><em id="i.xix-p6.3">Lit</em>.: “to this college of
      Christ.”</note></p>

<p id="i.xix-p7"><em id="i.xix-p7.1">By not being good, I do not mean being fond of vanities,
      which, I believe, with the help of God, will be a fault far
      removed from the nuns in this house. I am referring to
      a want of mortification and an attachment to worldly things
      and to self-interest in the matter which I have described.
      Let anyone who knows that she is not greatly mortified take
      my advice and not make her profession</em> if she does not
   wish to suffer a hell on earth, and God grant there may not be
   another hell awaiting such a nun in the world to come! There
   are many reasons why she should fear there may belt and
   possibly neither she nor her sisters may realize this as well
   as I do.</p>

<p id="i.xix-p8">Believe what I say here; if you will not, I must leave it to
   time to prove the truth of my words. For the whole manner of
   life we are trying to live is making us, not only nuns, but
   hermits [like the holy Fathers our predecessors] and leading
   us to detachment from all things created. I have observed that
   anyone whom the Lord has specially chosen for this life is
   granted that favour. She may not have it in full perfection,
   but that she has it will be evident from the great joy and
   gladness that such detachment gives her, and she will never
   have any more to do with worldly things, for her delight will
   be in all the practices of the religious life. I say once more
   that anyone who is inclined to things of the world should
   leave the convent <note place="foot" n="42" id="i.xix-p8.1">I.e., St. Joseph’s,
      Ávila.</note>if she sees she is not making progress. If she
   still wishes to be a nun she should go to another convent; if
   she does not, she will see what happens to her. She must not
   complain of me as the foundress of this convent and say I have
   not warned her.</p>

<p id="i.xix-p9">This house is another Heaven, if it be possible to have Heaven
   upon earth. Anyone whose sole pleasure lies in pleasing God
   and who cares nothing for her own pleasure will find our life
   a very good one; if she wants anything more, she will lose
   everything, for there is nothing more that she can have.
   A discontented soul is like a person suffering from severe
   nausea, who rejects all food, however nice it may be; things
   which persons in good health delight in eating only cause her
   <em id="i.xix-p9.1">the greater</em> loathing. Such a person will save her
   soul better elsewhere than here; she may even gradually reach
   a degree of perfection which she could not have attained here
   because we expected too much of her all at once. For although
   we allow time for the attainment of complete detachment and
   mortification in interior matters, in externals this has to be
   practised immediately, <em id="i.xix-p9.2">because of the harm which may
      otherwise befall the rest;</em> and anyone who sees this
   being done, and spends all her time in such good company, and
   yet, at the end of <em id="i.xix-p9.3">six months or</em> a year, has made no
   progress, will, I fear, make none over a great many years, and
   will even go backward. I do not say that such a nun must be as
   perfect as the rest, but she must be sure that her soul is
   gradually growing healthier—and it will soon become clear
   if her disease is mortal.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="14" title="Treats of the great importance    of not professing anyone whose spirit is contrary to the    things aforementioned" shorttitle="Section 14" progress="36.77%" id="i.xx" prev="i.xix" next="i.xxi">

<h1 id="i.xx-p0.1">CHAPTER 14<br /> Treats of the great importance of not
   professing anyone whose spirit is contrary to the things
   aforementioned.</h1>

<p id="i.xx-p1">I feel sure that the Lord bestows great help on anyone who
   makes good resolutions, and for that reason it is necessary to
   enquire into the intentions of anyone who enters [the life of
   religion].  She must not come, as many nuns [now] do, simply
   to further her own interests, although the Lord can perfect
   even this intention if she is a person of intelligence. If not
   intelligent, a person of this kind should on no account be
   admitted; for she will not understand her own reasons for
   coming, nor will she understand others who attempt
   subsequently to improve her. For, in general, a person who has
   this fault always thinks she knows better than the wisest what
   is good for her; and I believe this evil is incurable, for it
   is rarely unaccompanied by malice. In a convent where there
   are a great many <em id="i.xx-p1.1">nuns</em> it may be tolerated, but it
   cannot be suffered among a few.</p>

<p id="i.xx-p2">When an intelligent person begins to grow fond of what is
   good, she clings to it manfully, for she sees that it is the
   best thing for her; this course may not bring her great
   spirituality but it will help her to give profitable advice,
   and to make herself useful in many ways, without being
   a trouble to anybody. But I do not see how a person lacking in
   intelligence can be of any use in community life, and she may
   do a great deal of harm. This defect, <em id="i.xx-p2.1">like others</em>,
   will not become obvious immediately; for many people are good
   at talking and bad at understanding, while others speak in
   a sharp and none too refined a tone, <note place="foot" n="43" id="i.xx-p2.2">An
      untranslatable play upon words: <em id="i.xx-p2.3">corto y no muy
         cortado</em>—as though “sharpened” could be used in
      the sense of “refined”.</note>and yet they have
   intelligence and can do a great deal of good. There are also
   simple, holy people who are <em id="i.xx-p2.4">quite</em> unversed in
   business matters and worldly conventions but have great skill
   in converse with God. Many enquiries, therefore, must be made
   before novices are admitted, and the period of probation
   before profession should be a long one. The world must
   understand once and for an that you are free to send them away
   <em id="i.xx-p2.5">again</em>, as it is often necessary to do in a convent
   where the life is one of austerity; and then if you use this
   right no one will take offence.</p>

<p id="i.xx-p3">I say this because these times are so unhappy, and our
   weakness is so great, that we are not content to follow the
   instructions of our predecessors and disregard the current
   ideas about honour, lest we should give offence to the
   novices’ relatives. God grant that those of us who admit
   unsuitable persons may not pay for it in the world to come!
   Such persons are never without a pretext for persuading us to
   accept them, <em id="i.xx-p3.1">though in a matter of such importance no
      pretext is valid. If the superior is unaffected by her
      personal likings and prejudices, and considers what is for
      the good of the house, I do not believe God will ever allow
      her to go astray. But if she considers other people’s
      feelings and trivial points of detail, I feel sure she will
      be bound to err</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xx-p4">This is something which everyone must think out for herself;
   she must commend it to God and encourage her superior <em id="i.xx-p4.1">when
      her courage fails her</em>, of such great importance is it.
   So I beg God to give you light about it. You do very well not
   to accept dowries; for, if you were to accept them, it might
   happen that, in order not to have to give back money which you
   no longer possess, you would keep a thief in the house who was
   robbing you of your treasure; and that would be no small pity.
   So you must not receive dowries from anyone, for to do so may
   be to harm the very person to whom you desire to bring
   profit.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="15" title="Treats of the great advantage    which comes from our not excusing ourselves, even though we    find we are unjustly condemned" shorttitle="Section 15" progress="37.60%" id="i.xxi" prev="i.xx" next="i.xxii">

<h1 id="i.xxi-p0.1">CHAPTER 15<br /> Treats of the great advantage which comes
   from our not excusing ourselves, even though we find we are
   unjustly condemned.</h1>

<p id="i.xxi-p1">But how disconnectedly I am writing! I am just like a person
   who does not know what she is doing. It is your fault,
   sisters, for I am doing this at your command. Read it as best
   you can, for I am writing it as best I can, and, if it is too
   bad, burn it. I really need leisure, and, as you see, I have
   so little opportunity for writing that a week passes without
   my putting down a word, and so I forget what I have said and
   what I am going to say next. Now what I have just been doing
—namely, excusing myself—is very bad for me, and I beg
   you not to copy it, for to suffer without making excuses is
   a habit of great perfection, and very edifying and
   meritorious; and, though I often teach you this, and by God’s
   goodness you practise it, His Majesty has never granted this
   favour to me. May He be pleased to bestow it on me before
   I die.</p>

<p id="i.xxi-p2">I am greatly confused as I begin to urge this virtue upon you,
   for I ought myself to have practised at least something of
   what I am recommending you with regard to it: but actually
   I must confess I have made very little progress. I never seem
   unable to find a reason for thinking I am being virtuous when
   I make excuses for myself. There are times when this is
   lawful, and when not to do it would be wrong, but I have not
   the discretion (or, better, the humility) to do it only when
   fitting. For, indeed, it takes great humility to find oneself
   unjustly condemned and be silent, and to do this is to imitate
   the Lord Who set us free from all our sins. I beg you, then,
   to study earnestly to do so, for it brings great gain; whereas
   I can see no gain in our trying to free ourselves from blame:
   none whatever—save, as I say, in a few cases where hiding
   the truth might cause offence or scandal. Anyone will
   understand this who has more discretion than I.</p>

<p id="i.xxi-p3">I think it is very important to accustom oneself to practise
   this virtue and to endeavour to obtain from the Lord the true
   humility which must result from it. The truly humble person
   will have a genuine desire to be thought little of, and
   persecuted, and condemned unjustly, even in serious matters.
   For, if she desires to imitate the Lord, how can she do so
   better than in this? And no bodily strength is necessary here,
   nor the aid of anyone save God.</p>

<p id="i.xxi-p4">These are great virtues, my sisters, and I should like us to
   study them closely, and to make them our penance. As you know,
   I deprecate [other severe and] excessive penances, which, if
   practised indiscreetly, may injure the health. Here, however,
   there is no cause for fear; for, however great the interior
   virtues may be, they do not weaken the body so that it cannot
   serve the Order, while at the same time they strengthen the
   soul; and, furthermore, they can be applied to very little
   things, and thus, as I have said on other occasions, they
   accustom one to gain great victories in <em id="i.xxi-p4.1">very</em>
   important matters. I have not, however, been able to test this
   particular thing myself, for I never heard anything bad said
   of me which I did not <em id="i.xxi-p4.2">clearly</em> realize fell short of
   the truth. If I had not <em id="i.xxi-p4.3">sometimes—often, indeed</em>—
   offended God in the ways they referred to, I had done so in
   many others, and I felt they had treated me far too
   indulgently in saying nothing about these: I much preferred
   people to blame me for what was not true than to tell the
   truth about me. <em id="i.xxi-p4.4">For I disliked hearing things that were
      true said about me, whereas these other things, however
      serious they were, I did not mind at all. In small matters
      I followed my own inclinations, and I still do so, without
      paying any affection to what is most perfect. So I should
      like you to begin to realize this at an early stage, and
      I want each of you to ponder how much there is to be gained
      in every way by this virtue, and how, so far as I can see,
      there is nothing to be lost by it. The chief thing we gain
      is being able, in some degree, to follow the Lord</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xxi-p5">It is a great help to meditate upon the great gain which in
   any case this is bound to bring us, and to realize how,
   properly speaking, we can never be blamed unjustly, since we
   are always full of faults, and a just man falls seven times
   a day, <note place="foot" n="44" id="i.xxi-p5.1">Proverbs xxiv, 16.</note>so that it
   would be a falsehood for us to say we have no sin. If, then,
   we are not to blame for the thing that we are accused of, we
   are never wholly without blame in the way that our good Jesus
   was.</p>

<p id="i.xxi-p6">Oh, my Lord! When I think in how many ways Thou didst suffer,
   and in all of them undeservedly, I know not what to say for
   myself, or what I can have been thinking about when I desired
   not to suffer, or what I am doing when I make excuses for
   myself. Thou knowest, my Good, that if there is anything good
   in me it comes from no other hands than Thine own. For what is
   it to Thee, Lord, to give much instead of little? True, I do
   not deserve it, but neither have I deserved the favours which
   Thou hast shown me already. Can it be that I should wish
   a thing so evil as myself to be thought well of by anyone,
   when they have said such wicked things of Thee, Who art good
   above all other good? It is intolerable, my God, it is
   intolerable; nor would I that Thou shouldst have to tolerate
   anything displeasing in Thine eyes being found in Thy
   handmaiden. For see, Lord, mine eyes are blind and very little
   pleases them. Do Thou give me light and make me truly to
   desire that all should hate me, since I have so often left
   Thee, Who hast loved me with such faithfulness.</p>

<p id="i.xxi-p7">What is this, my God? What advantage do we think to gain from
   giving pleasure to creatures? What does it matter to us if we
   are blamed by them all, provided we are without blame in the
   sight of the Lord? Oh, my sisters we shall never succeed in
   understanding this truth and we shall never attain perfection
   unless we think and meditate upon what is real and upon what
   is not. If there were no other gain than the confusion which
   will be felt by the person who has blamed you when she sees
   that you have allowed yourselves to be condemned unjustly,
   that would be a very great thing. Such an experience uplifts
   the soul more than ten sermons. And we must all try to be
   preachers by our deeds, since both the Apostle and our own
   lack of ability forbid us to be preachers in word.</p>

<p id="i.xxi-p8">Never suppose that either the evil or the good that you do
   will remain secret, however strict may be your enclosure. Do
   you suppose, daughter, that, if you do not make excuses for
   yourself, there will not be someone else who will defend you?
   Remember how the Lord took the Magdalen’s part in the
   Pharisee’s house and also when her sister blamed her. He will
   not treat you as rigorously as He treated Himself: it was not
   until He was on the Cross that He had even a thief to defend
   Him. His Majesty, then, will put it into somebody’s mind to
   defend you; if He does not, it will be because there is no
   need. This I have myself seen, and it is a fact, although
   I should not like you to think too much of it, but rather to
   be glad when you are blamed, and in due time you will see what
   profit you experience in your souls. For it is in this way
   that you will begin to gain freedom; soon you will not care if
   they speak ill or well of you; it will seem like someone
   else’s business. It will be as if two persons are talking
   <em id="i.xxi-p8.1">in your presence</em> and you are quite uninterested in
   what they are saying because you are not actually being
   addressed by them. So here: it becomes such a habit with us
   not to reply that it seems as if they are not addressing us at
   all. This may seem impossible to those of us who are very
   sensitive and not capable of great mortification. It is indeed
   difficult at first, but I know that, with the Lord’s help, the
   <em id="i.xxi-p8.2">gradual</em> attainment of this freedom, and of
   renunciation and self-detachment, is quite possible.</p>

</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="16" title="Describes the difference    between perfection in the lives of contemplatives and in the    lives of those who are content with mental prayer.  Explains    how it is sometimes possible for God to raise a distracted    soul to perfect contemplation and the reason for this. This    chapter and that which comes next are to be noted carefully" shorttitle="Section 16" progress="39.35%" id="i.xxii" prev="i.xxi" next="i.xxiii">

<h1 id="i.xxii-p0.1">CHAPTER 16<br /> Describes the difference between perfection
   in the lives of contemplatives and in the lives of those who
   are content with mental prayer. Explains how it is sometimes
   possible for God to raise a distracted soul to perfect
   contemplation and the reason for this. This chapter and that
   which comes next are to be noted carefully.<note place="foot" n="45" id="i.xxii-p0.3">The first four paragraphs of this chapter
      originally formed part of V., but, after writing them, St.
      Teresa tore them out of the manuscript, as though, on
      consideration, she had decided not to leave on record her
      knowledge of such a worldly game as chess. The allegory,
      however, is so expressive and beautiful that it has rightly
      become famous, and from the time of Fray Luis de León all
      the editions have included it. The text here followed is
      that of E.</note></h1>

<p id="i.xxii-p1">I hope you do not think I have written too much about this
   already; for I have only been placing the board, as they say.
   You have asked me to tell you about the first steps in prayer;
   although God did not lead me by them, my daughters I know no
   others, and even now I can hardly have acquired these
   elementary virtues. But you may be sure that anyone who cannot
   set out the pieces in a game of chess will never be able to
   play well, and, if he does not know how to give check, he will
   not be able to bring about a checkmate.<note place="foot" n="46" id="i.xxii-p1.1">Chess was very much in vogue in the Spain of
      St.  Teresa’s day and it was only in 1561 that its great
      exponent Ruy López de Segura had published his celebrated
      treatise, in Spanish, entitled “Book of the liberal
      invention and art of the game of chess”.</note> <em id="i.xxii-p1.2">Now you
      will reprove me for talking about games, as we do not play
      them in this house and are forbidden to do so. That will
      show you what kind of a mother God has given you—she
      even knows about vanities like this! However, they say that
      the game is sometimes legitimate. How legitimate it will be
      for us to play it in this way, and, if we play it
      frequently, how quickly we shall give checkmate to this
      Divine King! He will not be able to move out of our check
      nor will He desire to do so.</em></p>

<p id="i.xxii-p2"><em id="i.xxii-p2.1">It is the queen which gives the king most trouble in this
      game and all the other pieces support her. There is no
      queen who can beat this King as well as humility can; for
      humility brought Him down from Heaven into the Virgin’s
      womb and with humility we can draw Him into our souls by
      a single hair. Be sure that He will give most humility to
      him who has most already and least to him who has least.
      I cannot understand how humility exists, or can exist,
      without love, or love without humility, and it is
      impossible for these two virtues to exist save where there
      is great detachment from all created things.</em></p>

<p id="i.xxii-p3"><em id="i.xxii-p3.1">You will ask, my daughters, why I am talking to you about
      virtues when you have more than enough books to teach you
      about them and when you want me to tell you only about
      contemplation. My reply is that, if you had asked me about
      meditation, I could have talked to you about it, and
      advised you all to practise it, even if you do not possess
      the virtues. For this is the first step to be taken towards
      the acquisition of the virtues and the very life of all
      Christians depends upon their beginning it. No one, however
      lost a soul he may be, should neglect so great a blessing
      if God inspires him to make use of it. All this I have
      already written elsewhere, and so have many others who know
      what they are writing about, which I certainly do not: God
      knows that.</em></p>

<p id="i.xxii-p4"><em id="i.xxii-p4.1">But contemplation, daughters, is another matter. This is
      an error which we all make: if a person gets so far as to
      spend a short time each day in thinking about his sins, as
      he is bound to do if he is a Christian in anything more
      than name, people at once call him a great contemplative;
      and then they expect him to have the rare virtues which
      a great contemplative is bound to possess; he may even
      think he has them himself, but he will be quite wrong.  In
      his early stages he did not even know how to set out the
      chess-board, and thought that, in order to give checkmate,
      it would be enough to be able to recognize the pieces. But
      that is impossible, for this King does not allow Himself to
      be taken except by one who surrenders wholly to
      Him.</em></p>

<p id="i.xxii-p5">Therefore, daughters, if you want me to tell you the way to
   attain to contemplation, do allow me to speak at some length
   about these things, even if at the time they do not seem to
   you very important, for I think myself that they are. If you
   have no wish either to hear about them or to practise them,
   continue your mental prayer all your life; but in that case
   I assure you, and all persons who desire this blessing, that
   <em id="i.xxii-p5.1">in my opinion</em> you will not attain true contemplation.
   I may, of course, be wrong about this, as I am judging by my
   own experience, but I have been striving after contemplation
   for twenty years.</p>

<p id="i.xxii-p6">I will now explain what mental prayer is, as some of you will
   not understand this. God grant that we may practise it as we
   should! I am afraid, however, that, if we do not achieve the
   virtues, this can only be done with great labour, although the
   virtues are not necessary here in such a high degree as they
   are for contemplation. I mean that the King of glory will not
   come to our souls—that is, so as to be united with them—
   unless we strive to gain the greatest virtues. <note place="foot" n="47" id="i.xxii-p6.1"><em id="i.xxii-p6.2">Lit</em>.: “the great virtues.” In V. St.
      Teresa originally began this sentence thus: “In the last
      chapter I said that the King of glory, etc.,” and ended it:
      “to gain the virtues which I there described as great.”
      Later she altered it to read as above.</note>I will explain
   this, for if you once catch me out in something which is not
   the truth, you will believe nothing I say—and if I were to
   say something untrue intentionally, from which may God
   preserve me, you would be right; but, if I did, it would be
   because I knew no better or did not understand what I said.
   I will tell you, then, that God is sometimes pleased to show
   great favour to persons who are in an evil state [and to raise
   them to perfect contemplation], so that by this means He may
   snatch them out of the hands of the devil. <em id="i.xxii-p6.3">It must be
      understood, I think, that such persons will not be in
      mortal sin at the time. They may be in an evil state, and
      yet the Lord will allow them to see a vision, even a very
      good one, in order to draw them back to Himself. But
      I cannot believe that He would grant them contemplation.
      For that is a Divine union, in which the Lord takes His
      delight in the soul and the soul takes its delight in Him;
      and there is no way in which the Purity of the Heavens can
      take pleasure in a soul that is unclean, nor can the
      Delight of the angels have delight in that which is not His
      own.  And we know that, by committing mortal sin, a soul
      becomes the property of the devil, and must take its
      delight in him, since it has given him pleasure; and, as we
      know, his delights, even in this life, are continuous
      torture. My Lord will have no lack of children of His own
      in whom He may rejoice without going and taking the
      children of others. Yet His Majesty will do what He often
      does—namely, snatch them out of the devil’s
      hands</em>.<note place="foot" n="48" id="i.xxii-p6.4"><em id="i.xxii-p6.5">Lit</em>.: “out of his
      hands”, but the meaning, made more explicit in V., is
      evident. On the doctrinal question involved in this
      paragraph, see Introduction, above. P. Silverio (III,
      75-6), has a more extensive note on the subject than can be
      given here and cites a number of Spanish authorities, from
      P. Juan de Jesús María (<em id="i.xxii-p6.6">Theologia Mystica</em>, Chap.
      III) to P.  Seisdedos Sanz (<em id="i.xxii-p6.7">Principios fundamentales de
         la mística</em>, Madrid, 1913, II, 61-77.)</note></p>

<p id="i.xxii-p7">Oh, my Lord! How often do we cause Thee to wrestle with the
   devil! Was it not enough that Thou shouldst have allowed him
   to bear Thee in his arms when he took Thee to the pinnacle of
   the Temple in order to teach us how to vanquish him? What
   a sight it would have been, daughters, to see this Sun by the
   side of the darkness, and what fear that wretched creature
   must have felt, though he would not have known why, since God
   did not allow Him to understand!</p>

<p id="i.xxii-p8">Blessed be such great pity and mercy; we Christians ought to
   feel great shame at making Him wrestle daily, in the way
   I have described, with such an unclean beast. Indeed, Lord,
   Thine arms had need to be strong, but how was it that they
   were not weakened by the many [trials and] tortures which Thou
   didst endure upon the Cross? Oh, how quickly all that is borne
   for love’s sake heals again! I really believe that, if Thou
   hadst lived longer, the very love which Thou hast for us would
   have healed Thy wounds again and Thou wouldst have needed no
   other medicine. Oh, my God, who will give me such medicine for
   all the things which grieve and try me?  How eagerly should
   I desire them if it were certain that I could be cured by such
   a health-giving ointment!</p>

<p id="i.xxii-p9">Returning to what I was saying, there are souls whom God knows
   He may gain for Himself by this means; seeing that they are
   completely lost, His Majesty wants to leave no stone unturned
   to help them; and therefore, though they are in a sad way and
   lacking in virtues, He gives them consolations, favours and
   emotions <note place="foot" n="49" id="i.xxii-p9.1"><em id="i.xxii-p9.2">Lit</em>.: “and
      tenderness.”</note>which begin to move their desires, and
   occasionally even brings them to a state of contemplation,
   though rarely and not for long at a time. And this, as I say,
   He does because He is testing them to see if that favour will
   not make them anxious to prepare themselves to enjoy it often;
   if it does not, may they be pardoned; pardon Thou us, Lord,
   for it is a dreadful thing that a soul whom Thou hast brought
   near to Thyself should approach any earthly thing and become
   attached to it.</p>

<p id="i.xxii-p10">For my own part I believe there are many souls whom God our
   Lord tests in this way, and few who prepare themselves to
   enjoy this favour. When the Lord does this and we ourselves
   leave nothing undone either, I think it is certain that He
   never ceases from giving until He has brought us to a very
   high degree of prayer. If we do not give ourselves to His
   Majesty as resolutely as He gives Himself to us, He will be
   doing more than enough for us if He leaves us in mental prayer
   and from time to time visits us as He would visit servants in
   His vineyard. But these others are His beloved children, whom
   He would never want to banish from His side; and, as they have
   no desire to leave Him, He never does so. He seats them at His
   table, and feeds them with His own food, almost taking the
   food from His mouth in order to give it them.</p>

<p id="i.xxii-p11">Oh, what blessed care of us is this, my daughters! How happy
   shall we be if by leaving these few, petty <note place="foot" n="50" id="i.xxii-p11.1"><em id="i.xxii-p11.2">Lit</em>.: “low”, contrasting with “high”
      at the end of the sentence.</note>things we can arrive at
   so high an estate! Even if the whole world should blame you,
   <em id="i.xxii-p11.3">and deafen you with its cries</em>, what matter so long as
   you are in the arms of God? He is powerful enough to free you
   from everything; for only once did He command the world to be
   made and it was done; with Him, to will is to do. Do not be
   afraid, then, if He is pleased to speak with you, for He does
   this for the greater good of those who love Him. His love for
   those to whom He is dear is by no means so weak: <em id="i.xxii-p11.4">He shows
      it in every way possible</em>.  Why, then, my sisters, do
   we not show Him love in so far as we can?  Consider what
   a wonderful exchange it is if we give Him our love and receive
   His. Consider that He can do all things, and we can do nothing
   here below save as He enables us. And what is it that we do
   for Thee, O Lord, our Maker? We do hardly anything [at all]—
   just make some poor weak resolution. And, if His Majesty is
   pleased that by doing a mere nothing we should win everything,
   let us not be so foolish as to fail to do it.</p>

<p id="i.xxii-p12">O Lord! All our trouble comes to us from not having our eyes
   fixed upon Thee. If we only looked at the way along which we
   are walking, we should soon arrive; but we stumble and fall
   a thousand times and stray from the way because, as I say, we
   do not set our eyes on the true Way. One would think that no
   one had ever trodden it before, so new is it to us. It is
   indeed a pity that this should sometimes happen. <em id="i.xxii-p12.1">I mean,
      it hardly seems that we are Christians at all or that we
      have ever in our lives read about the Passion. Lord help us
—that we should be hurt about some small point of honour!
      And then, when someone tells us not to worry about it, we
      think he is no Christian. I used to laugh—or sometimes
      I used to be distressed—at the things I heard in the
      world, and sometimes, for my sins, in religious
      Orders</em>. We refuse to be thwarted over the very
   smallest matter of precedence: apparently such a thing is
   quite intolerable. We cry out at once: “Well, I’m no saint”;
   <em id="i.xxii-p12.2">I used to say that myself</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xxii-p13">God deliver us, sisters, from saying “We are not angels”, or
   “We are not saints”, whenever we commit some imperfection. We
   may not be; but what a good thing it is for us to reflect that
   we can be if we will only try and if God gives us His hand! Do
   not be afraid that He will fail to do His part if we do not
   fail to do ours. And since we come here for no other reason,
   let us put our hands to the plough, as they say. Let there be
   nothing we know of which it would be a service to the Lord for
   us to do, and which, with His help, we would not venture to
   take in hand. I should like that kind of venturesomeness to be
   found in this house, as it always increases humility. We must
   have a holy boldness, for God helps the strong, being no
   respecter of persons; <note place="foot" n="51" id="i.xxii-p13.1">Acts x,
      34.</note><em id="i.xxii-p13.2">and He will give courage to you and to
      me</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xxii-p14">I have strayed far from the point. I want to return to what
   I was saying—that is, to explain the nature of mental
   prayer and contemplation. It may seem irrelevant, but it is
   all done for your sakes; you may understand it better as
   expressed in my rough style than in other books which put it
   more elegantly. May the Lord grant me His favour, so that this
   may be so. Amen.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="17" title="How not all souls are fitted    for contemplation and how some take long to attain it. True    humility will walk happily along the road by which the Lord    leads it" shorttitle="Section 17" progress="42.49%" id="i.xxiii" prev="i.xxii" next="i.xxiv">

<h1 id="i.xxiii-p0.1">CHAPTER 17<br /> How not all souls are fitted for
   contemplation and how some take long to attain it. True
   humility will walk happily along the road by which the Lord
   leads it.</h1>

<p id="i.xxiii-p1">I seem now to be beginning my treatment of prayer, but there
   still remains a little for me to say, which is of great
   importance because it has to do with humility, and in this
   house that is necessary. For humility is the principal virtue
   which must be practised by those who pray, and, as I have
   said, it is very fitting that you should try to learn how to
   practise it often: that is one of the chief things to remember
   about it and it is very necessary that it should be known by
   all who practise prayer. How can anyone who is truly humble
   think herself as good as those who become contemplatives? God,
   it is true, by His goodness and mercy, can make her so; but my
   advice is that she should always sit down in the lowest place,
   for that is what the Lord instructed us to do and taught us by
   His own example. <note place="foot" n="52" id="i.xxiii-p1.1">St. Luke xiv,
      10.</note>Let such a one make herself ready for God to lead
   her by this road if He so wills; if He does not, the whole
   point of <em id="i.xxiii-p1.2">true</em> humility is that she should consider
   herself happy in serving the servants of the Lord and in
   praising Him. For she deserves to be a slave of the devils in
   hell; yet His Majesty has brought her here to live among His
   servants.</p>

<p id="i.xxiii-p2">I do not say this without good reason, for, as I have said, it
   is very important for us to realize that God does not lead us
   all by the same road, and perhaps she who believes herself to
   be going along the lowest of roads is the highest in the
   Lord’s eyes. So it does not follow that, because all of us in
   this house practise prayer, we are all <em id="i.xxiii-p2.1">perforce</em> to be
   contemplatives. That is impossible; and those of us who are
   not would be greatly discouraged if we did not grasp the truth
   that contemplation is something given by God, and, as it is
   not necessary for salvation and God does not ask it of us
   before He gives us our reward, we must not suppose that anyone
   else will require it of us. We shall not fail to attain
   perfection if we do what has been said here; we may, in fact,
   gain much more merit, because what we do will cost us more
   labour; the Lord will be treating us like those who are strong
   and will be laying up for us all that we cannot enjoy in this
   life.  Let us not be discouraged, then, and give up prayer or
   cease doing what the rest do; for the Lord sometimes tarries
   long, and gives us as great rewards all at once as He has been
   giving to others over many years.</p>

<p id="i.xxiii-p3">I myself spent over fourteen years without ever being able to
   meditate except while reading. There must be many people like
   this, and others who cannot meditate even after reading, but
   can only recite vocal prayers, in which they chiefly occupy
   themselves <em id="i.xxiii-p3.1">and take a certain pleasure</em>. Some find
   their thoughts wandering so much that they cannot concentrate
   upon the same thing, but are always restless, to such an
   extent that, if they try to fix their thoughts upon God, they
   are attacked by a thousand foolish ideas and scruples and
   doubts <em id="i.xxiii-p3.2">concerning the Faith</em>. I know a very old woman,
   leading a most excellent life—<em id="i.xxiii-p3.3">I wish mine were like
      hers</em>—a penitent and a great servant of God, who for
   many years has been spending hours and hours in vocal prayer,
   but from mental prayer can get no help at all; the most she
   can do is to dwell upon each of her vocal prayers as she says
   them. There are a great many other people <em id="i.xxiii-p3.4">just</em> like
   this; if they are humble, they will not, I think, be any the
   worse off in the end, but very much in the same state as those
   who enjoy numerous consolations. In one way they may feel
   safer, for we cannot tell if consolations come from God or are
   sent by the devil. If they are not of God, they are the more
   dangerous; for the chief object of the devil’s work on earth
   is to fill us with pride. If they are of God, there is no
   reason for fear, for they bring humility with them, as
   I explained in my other book at great length.</p>

<p id="i.xxiii-p4">Others <note place="foot" n="53" id="i.xxiii-p4.1"><em id="i.xxiii-p4.2">Lit</em>.: “These
      others.”</note>walk in humility, and always suspect that if
   they fail to receive consolations the fault is theirs, and are
   always most anxious to make progress. They never see a person
   shedding a tear without thinking themselves very backward in
   God’s service unless they are doing the same, whereas they may
   perhaps be much more advanced. For tears, though good, are not
   invariably signs of perfection; there is always greater safety
   in humility, mortification, detachment and other virtues.
   There is no reason for fear, and you must not be afraid that
   you will fail to attain the perfection of the greatest
   contemplatives.</p>

<p id="i.xxiii-p5">Saint Martha was holy, but we are not told that she was
   a contemplative. What more do you want than to be able to grow
   to be like that blessed woman, who was worthy to receive
   Christ our Lord so often in her house, and to prepare meals
   for Him, and to serve Him and perhaps to eat at table with
   Him? If she had been absorbed in devotion [all the time], as
   the Magdalen was, there would have been no one to prepare
   a meal for this Divine Guest. Now remember that this little
   community is Saint Martha’s house and that there must be
   people of all kinds here. Nuns who are called to the active
   life must not murmur at others who are very much absorbed in
   contemplation, for contemplatives know that, though they
   themselves may be silent, the Lord will speak for them, and
   this, as a rule, makes them forget themselves and everything
   else.</p>

<p id="i.xxiii-p6">Remember that there must be someone to cook the meals and
   count yourselves happy in being able to serve like Martha.
   Reflect that true humility consists to a great extent in being
   ready for what the Lord desires to do with you and happy that
   He should do it, and in always considering yourselves unworthy
   to be called His servants. If contemplation and mental and
   vocal prayer and tending the sick and serving in the house and
   working at even the lowliest tasks are of service to the Guest
   who comes to stay with us and to eat and take His recreation
   with us, what should it matter to us if we do one of these
   things rather than another?</p>

<p id="i.xxiii-p7">I do not mean that it is for us to say what we shall do, but
   that we must do our best in everything, for the choice is not
   ours but the Lord’s. If after many years He is pleased to give
   each of us her office, it will be a curious kind of humility
   for you to wish to choose; let the Lord of the house do that,
   for He is wise and powerful and knows what is fitting for you
   and for Himself as well. Be sure that, if you do what lies in
   your power and prepare yourself for <em id="i.xxiii-p7.1">high</em>
   contemplation with the perfection aforementioned, then, if He
   does not grant it you (and I think He will not fail to do so
   if you have true detachment and humility), it will be because
   He has laid up this joy for you so as to give it you in
   Heaven, and because, as I have said elsewhere, He is pleased
   to treat you like people who are strong and give you a cross
   to bear on earth like that which His Majesty Himself always
   bore.</p>

<p id="i.xxiii-p8">What better sign of friendship is there than for Him to give
   you what He gave Himself? It might well be that you would not
   have had so great a reward from contemplation. His judgments
   are His own; we must not meddle in them. It is indeed a good
   thing that the choice is not ours; for, if it were, we should
   think it the more restful life and all become great
   contemplatives. Oh, how much we gain if we have no desire to
   gain what seems to us best and so have no fear of losing,
   since God never permits a truly mortified person to lose
   anything except when such loss will bring him greater
   gain!</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="18" title="Continues the same subject and    shows how much greater are the trials of contemplatives than    those of actives. This chapter offers great consolation to    actives." shorttitle="Section 18" progress="44.19%" id="i.xxiv" prev="i.xxiii" next="i.xxv">

<h1 id="i.xxiv-p0.1">CHAPTER 18<br /> Continues the same subject and shows how much
   greater are the trials of contemplatives than those of
   actives.  This chapter offers great consolation to
   actives.</h1>

<p id="i.xxiv-p1">I tell you, then, daughters—those of you whom God is not
   leading by this road [of contemplation]—that, as I know
   from what I have seen and been told by those who are following
   this road, they are not bearing a lighter cross than you; you
   would be amazed at all the ways and manners in which God sends
   them crosses.  I know about both types of life and I am well
   aware that the trials given by God to contemplatives are
   intolerable; and they are of such a kind that, were He not to
   feed them with consolations, they could not be borne. It is
   clear that, since God leads those whom He most loves by the
   way of trials, the more He loves them, the greater will be
   their trials; and there is no reason to suppose that He hates
   contemplatives, since with His own mouth He praises them and
   calls them friends.</p>

<p id="i.xxiv-p2">To suppose that He would admit to His close friendship
   pleasure-loving people who are free from all trials is
   ridiculous.  I feel quite sure that God gives them much
   greater trials; and that He leads them by a hard and rugged
   road, so that they sometimes think they are lost and will have
   to go back and begin again. Then His Majesty is obliged to
   give them sustenance—not water, but wine, so that they may
   become inebriated by it and not realize what they are going
   through and what they are capable of bearing. Thus I find few
   true contemplatives who are not courageous and resolute in
   suffering; for, if they are weak, the first thing the Lord
   does is to give them courage so that they may fear no trials
   <em id="i.xxiv-p2.1">that may come to them</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xxiv-p3">I think, when those who lead an active life occasionally see
   contemplatives receiving consolations, they suppose that they
   never experience anything else. But I can assure you that you
   might not be able to endure their sufferings for as long as
   a day. The point is that the Lord knows everyone as he really
   is and gives each his work to do—according to what He sees
   to be most fitting for his soul, and for His own Self, and for
   the good of his neighbour.  Unless you have omitted to prepare
   yourselves for your work you need have no fear that it will be
   lost. Note that I say we must all strive to do this, for we
   are here for no other purpose; and we must not strive merely
   for a year, or for two years or ten years, or it will look as
   if we are abandoning our work like cowards. It is well that
   the Lord should see we are not leaving anything undone. We are
   like soldiers who, however long they have served, must always
   be ready for their captain to send them away on any duty which
   he wants to entrust to them, since it is he who is paying
   them. And how much better is the payment given by our King
   than by people on this earth! <em id="i.xxiv-p3.1">For the unfortunate soldiers
      die, and God knows who pays them after that!</em></p>

<p id="i.xxiv-p4">When their captain sees they are all present, and anxious for
   service, he assigns duties to them according to their fitness,
   <em id="i.xxiv-p4.1">though not so well as our Heavenly Captain</em>. But if
   they were not present, He would give them neither pay <note place="foot" n="54" id="i.xxiv-p4.2"><em id="i.xxiv-p4.3">Lit</em>.: “would give them nothing”, but
      the reference seems to be to payment.</note>nor service
   orders. So practise mental prayer, sisters; or, if any of you
   cannot do that, vocal prayer, reading and colloquies with God,
   as I shall explain to you later. Do not neglect the hours of
   prayer which are observed by all the nuns; you never know when
   the Spouse will call you (do not let what happened to the
   foolish virgins happen to you) and if He will give you fresh
   trials under the disguise of consolations. If He does not, you
   may be sure that you are not fit for them and that what you
   are doing is suitable for you. That is where both merit and
   humility come in, when you really think that you are not fit
   for what you are doing.</p>

<p id="i.xxiv-p5">Go cheerfully about whatever services you are ordered to do,
   as I have said; if such a servant is truly humble she will be
   blessed in her active life and will never make any complaint
   save of herself. <em id="i.xxiv-p5.1">I would much rather be like her than like
      some contemplatives</em>. Leave others to wage their own
   conflicts, which are not light ones. The standard-bearer is
   not a combatant, yet none the less he is exposed to great
   danger, and, inwardly, must suffer more than anyone, for he
   cannot defend himself, as he is carrying the standard, which
   he must not allow to leave his hands, even if he is cut to
   pieces. Just so contemplatives have to bear aloft the standard
   of humility and must suffer all the blows which are aimed at
   them without striking any themselves. Their duty is to suffer
   as Christ did, to raise the Cross on high, not to allow it to
   leave their hands, whatever the perils in which they find
   themselves, and not to let themselves be found backward in
   suffering. It is for this reason that they are given such an
   honourable duty. Let the contemplative consider what he is
   doing; for, if he lets the standard fall, the battle will be
   lost. Great harm, I think, is done to those who are not so far
   advanced if those whom they consider as captains and friends
   of God let them see them acting in a way unbefitting to their
   office.</p>

<p id="i.xxiv-p6">The other soldiers do as best they can; at times they will
   withdraw from some position of extreme danger, and, as no one
   observes them, they suffer no loss of honour. But these others
   have all eyes fixed on them and cannot move. Their office,
   then, is a noble one, and the King confers great honour and
   favour upon anyone to whom He gives it, and who, in receiving
   it, accepts no light obligation. So, sisters, as we <em id="i.xxiv-p6.1">do not
      understand ourselves and</em> know not what we ask, let us
   leave everything to the Lord, <em id="i.xxiv-p6.2">Who knows us better than we
      know ourselves. True humility consists in our being
      satisfied with what is given us</em>. There are some people
   who seem to want to ask favours from God as a right. A pretty
   kind of humility that is! He Who knows us all does well in
   seldom giving things to such persons, He sees clearly that
   they are unable to drink of His chalice.</p>

<p id="i.xxiv-p7">If you want to know whether you have made progress or not,
   sisters, you may be sure that you have if each of you thinks
   herself the worst of all and shows that she thinks this by
   acting for the profit and benefit of the rest. Progress has
   nothing to do with enjoying the greatest number of
   consolations in prayer, or with raptures, visions or favours
   [often] given by the Lord, the value of which we cannot
   estimate until we reach the world to come.  The other things
   I have been describing are current coin, an unfailing source
   of revenue and a perpetual inheritance—not payments liable
   at any time to cease, like those favours which are given us
   and then come to an end. I am referring to the great virtues
   of humility, mortification and an obedience so
   <em id="i.xxiv-p7.1">extremely</em> strict that we never go an inch beyond the
   superior’s orders, knowing that these orders come from God
   since she is in His place. It is to this duty of obedience
   that you must attach the greatest importance. It seems to me
   that anyone who does not have it is not a nun at all, and so
   I am saying no more about it, as I am speaking to nuns whom
   I believe to be good, or, at least, desirous of being so. So
   well known is the matter, and so important, that a single word
   will suffice to prevent you from forgetting it.</p>

<p id="i.xxiv-p8">I mean that, if anyone is under a vow of obedience and goes
   astray through not taking the greatest care to observe these
   vows with the highest degree of perfection, I do not know why
   she is in the convent. I can assure her, in any case, that,
   for so long as she fails in this respect, she will never
   succeed in leading the contemplative life, or even in leading
   a good active life: of that I am absolutely certain. <note place="foot" n="55" id="i.xxiv-p8.1"><em id="i.xxiv-p8.2">Lit</em>.: “very, very certain”—
      a typically Teresan repetition.</note>And even a person who
   has not this obligation, but who wishes or tries to achieve
   contemplation, must, if she would walk safely, be fully
   resolved to surrender her will to a confessor who is himself
   a contemplative<note place="foot" n="56" id="i.xxiv-p8.3"><em id="i.xxiv-p8.4">Lit</em>.: “who is
      such.”</note> <em id="i.xxiv-p8.5">and will understand her</em>. It is
   a well-known fact that she will make more progress in this way
   in a year than in a great many years if she acts otherwise. As
   this does not affect you, however, I will say no more about
   it.</p>

<p id="i.xxiv-p9">I conclude, my daughters, [by saying] that these are the
   virtues which I desire you to possess and to strive to obtain
   and of which you should cherish a holy envy. Do not be
   troubled because you have no experience of those other kinds
   of devotion: they are very unreliable. It may be that to some
   people they come from God, and yet that if they came to you it
   might be because His Majesty had permitted you to be deceived
   and deluded by the devil, as He has permitted others:
   <em id="i.xxiv-p9.1">there is danger in this for women</em>. Why do you want to
   serve the Lord in so doubtful a way when there are so many
   ways of [serving Him in] safety? Who wants to plunge you into
   these perils? I have said a great deal about this, because
   I am sure it will be useful, for this nature of ours is weak,
   though His Majesty will strengthen those on whom He wishes to
   bestow contemplation. With regard to the rest, I am glad to
   have given them this advice, which will teach contemplatives
   humility also.  <em id="i.xxiv-p9.2">If you say you have no need of it,
      daughters, some of you may perhaps find it pleasant
      reading</em>. May the Lord, for His own sake, give us light
   to follow His will in all things and we shall have no cause
   for fear.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="19" title="Begins to treat of prayer.    Addresses souls who cannot reason with the understanding." shorttitle="Section 19" progress="46.30%" id="i.xxv" prev="i.xxiv" next="i.xxvi">

<h1 id="i.xxv-p0.1">CHAPTER 19<br /> Begins to treat of prayer. Addresses souls
   who cannot reason with the understanding.</h1>

<p id="i.xxv-p1">It is a long time <note place="foot" n="57" id="i.xxv-p1.1"><em id="i.xxv-p1.2">Lit</em>.: “so many
      days.”</note>since I wrote the last chapter and I have had
   no chance of returning to my writing, so that, without reading
   through what I have written, I cannot remember what I said.
   However, I must not spend too much time at this, so it will be
   best if I go right on <note place="foot" n="58" id="i.xxv-p1.3">Lit.: “It will have
      to go as it comes out.”</note>without troubling about the
   connection. For those with orderly minds, and for souls who
   practise prayer and can be a great deal in their own company,
   many books have been written, and these are so good and are
   the work of such competent people that you would be making
   a mistake if you paid heed to anything about prayer that you
   learned from me. There are books, as I say, in which the
   mysteries of the life of the Lord and of His <em id="i.xxv-p1.4">sacred</em>
   Passion are described in short passages, one for each day of
   the week; there are also meditations on the Judgment, on hell,
   on our own nothingness and on all that we owe to God, and
   these books are excellent both as to their teaching and as to
   the way in which they plan the beginning and the end of the
   time of prayer. <note place="foot" n="59" id="i.xxv-p1.5">St Teresa is probably
      referring to the treatises of Luis de Granada and St. Peter
      of Alcántara (<em id="i.xxv-p1.6">S.S.M</em>, 1, 40-52, II, 106-20). Cf.
      <em id="i.xxv-p1.7">Constitutions</em> (Vol. III, p. 236,
      below).</note>There is no need to tell anyone who is
   capable of practising prayer in this way, and has already
   formed the habit of doing so, that by this good road the Lord
   will bring her to the harbour of light. If she begins so well,
   her end will be good also; and all who can walk along this
   road will walk restfully and securely, for one always walks
   restfully when the understanding is kept in restraint. It is
   something else that I wish to treat of and help you about if
   the Lord is pleased to enable me to do so; if not, you will at
   least realize that there are many souls who suffer this trial,
   and you will not be so much distressed at undergoing it
   yourselves at first, <em id="i.xxv-p1.8">but will find some comfort in
      it.</em></p>

<p id="i.xxv-p2">There are some souls, and some minds, as unruly as horses not
   yet broken in. No one can stop them: now they go this way, now
   that way; they are never still. <em id="i.xxv-p2.1">Although a skilled rider
      mounted on such a horse may not always be in danger, he
      will be so sometimes; and, even if he is not concerned
      about his life, there will always be the risk of his
      stumbling,<note place="foot" n="60" id="i.xxv-p2.2"><em id="i.xxv-p2.3">Lit</em>.: “of his doing
         something on (the horse) which is not
         graceful.”</note>so that he has to ride with great
      care</em>. Some people are either like this by nature or
   God permits them to become so. I am very sorry for them; they
   seem to me like people who are very thirsty and see water
   a long way off, yet, when they try to go to it, find someone
   who all the time is barring their path—at the beginning of
   their journey, in the middle and at the end. And when, after
   all their labour—and the labour is tremendous—they have
   conquered the first of their enemies, they allow themselves to
   be conquered by the second, and they prefer to die of thirst
   rather than drink water which is going to cost them so much
   trouble. Their strength has come to an end; their courage has
   failed them; and, though some of them are strong enough to
   conquer their second enemies as well as their first, when they
   meet the third group their strength comes to an end, though
   perhaps they are only a couple of steps from the fountain of
   living water, of which the Lord said to the Samaritan woman
   that whosoever drinks of it shall not thirst again. <note place="foot" n="61" id="i.xxv-p2.4">St. John iv, 13.</note>How right and <em id="i.xxv-p2.5">how
      very</em> true is that which comes from the lips of Truth
   Himself!  In this life the soul will never thirst for anything
   more, although its thirst for things in the life to come will
   exceed any natural thirst that we can imagine here below. How
   the soul thirsts to experience this thirst! For it knows how
   very precious it is, and, grievous though it be and
   exhausting, it creates the very satisfaction by which this
   thirst is allayed. It is therefore a thirst which quenches
   nothing but desire for earthly things, and, when God slakes
   it, satisfies in such a way that one of the greatest favours
   He can bestow on the soul is to leave it with this longing, so
   that it has an even greater desire to drink of this water
   again.</p>

<p id="i.xxv-p3">Water has three properties—three relevant properties which
   I can remember, that is to say, for it must have many more.
   One of them is that of cooling things; however hot we are,
   water tempers the heat, and it will even put out a large fire,
   except when there is tar in the fire, in which case, <em id="i.xxv-p3.1">they
      say</em>, it only burns the more. God help me! What
   a marvellous thing it is that, when this fire is strong and
   fierce and subject to none of the elements, water should make
   it grow fiercer, and, though its contrary element, should not
   quench it but only cause it to burn the more!  It would be
   very useful to be able to discuss this with someone who
   understands philosophy; if I knew the properties of things
   I could explain it myself; but, though I love thinking about
   it, I cannot explain it—perhaps I do not even understand
   it.</p>

<p id="i.xxv-p4">You will be glad, sisters, if God grants you to drink of this
   water, as are those who drink of it now, and you will
   understand how a genuine love of God, if it is really strong,
   and completely free from earthly things, and able to rise
   above them, is master of all the elements and of the whole
   world. And, as water proceeds from the earth, there is no fear
   of its quenching this fire, which is the love of God; though
   the two elements are contraries, it has no power over it. The
   fire is absolute master, and subject to nothing. You will not
   be surprised, then, sisters, at the way I have insisted in
   this book that you should strive to obtain this freedom. Is it
   not a funny thing that a poor <em id="i.xxv-p4.1">little</em> nun of Saint
   Joseph’s should attain mastery over the whole earth and all
   the elements? What wonder that the saints did as they pleased
   with them by the help of God? Fire and water obeyed Saint
   Martin; even birds and fishes were obedient to Saint Francis;
   and similarly with many other saints. <em id="i.xxv-p4.2">Helped as they were
      by God, and themselves doing all that was in their power,
      they could almost have claimed this as a right</em>. It was
   clear that they were masters over everything in the world,
   because they had striven so hard to despise it and subjected
   themselves to the Lord of the world with all their might. So,
   as I say, the water, which springs from the earth, has no
   power over this fire. Its flames rise high and its source is
   in nothing so base as the earth. There are other fires of love
   for God—small ones, which may be quenched by the least
   little thing. But this fire will most certainly not be so
   quenched. <note place="foot" n="62" id="i.xxv-p4.3"><em id="i.xxv-p4.4">Lit</em>.: “But this one—
      no, no.”</note>Even should a whole sea of temptations
   assail it, they will not keep it from burning or prevent it
   from gaining the mastery over them.</p>

<p id="i.xxv-p5">Water which comes down as rain from Heaven will quench the
   flames even less, for in that case the fire and the water are
   not contraries, but have the same origin. Do not fear that the
   one element may harm the other; each helps the other and they
   produce the same effect. For the water of genuine tears—
   that is, tears which come from true prayer—is a good gift
   from the King of Heaven; it fans the flames and keeps them
   alight, while the fire helps to cool the water. God bless me!
   What a beautiful and wonderful thing it is that fire should
   cool water! But it does; and it even freezes all worldly
   affections, when it is combined with the living water which
   comes from Heaven, the source of the above-mentioned tears,
   which are given us, and not acquired by our diligence.
   Certainly, then, nothing worldly has warmth enough left in it
   to induce us to cling to it unless it is something which
   increases this fire, the nature of which is not to be easily
   satisfied, but, if possible, to enkindle the entire world.</p>

<p id="i.xxv-p6">The second property of water is that it cleanses things that
   are not clean already. What would become of the world if there
   were no water for washing? Do you know what cleansing
   properties there are in this living water, this heavenly
   water, this clear water, when it is unclouded, and free from
   mud, and comes down from Heaven?  Once the soul has drunk of
   it I am convinced that it makes it pure and clean of all its
   sins; for, as I have written, God does not allow us to drink
   of this water of <em id="i.xxv-p6.1">perfect contemplation</em> whenever we
   like: the choice is not ours; this Divine union is something
   quite supernatural, given that it may cleanse the soul and
   leave it pure and free from the mud and misery in which it has
   been plunged because of its sins. Other consolations,
   excellent as they may be, which come through the intermediacy
   of the understanding, are like water running all over the
   ground. This cannot be drunk directly from the source; and its
   course is never free from clogging impurities, so that it is
   neither so pure nor so clean as the other. I should not say
   that this prayer I have been describing, which comes from
   reasoning with the intellect, is living water—I mean so far
   as my understanding of it goes. For, despite our efforts,
   there is always something clinging to the soul, through the
   influence of the body and of the baseness of our nature, which
   we should prefer not to be there.</p>

<p id="i.xxv-p7">I will explain myself further. We are meditating on the nature
   of the world, and on the way in which everything will come to
   an end, so that we may learn to despise it, when, almost
   without noticing it, we find ourselves ruminating on things in
   the world that we love. We try to banish these thoughts, but
   we cannot help being slightly distracted by thinking of things
   that have happened, or will happen, of things we have done and
   of things we are going to do. Then we begin to think of how we
   can get rid of these thoughts; and that sometimes plunges us
   once again into the same danger. It is not that we ought to
   omit such meditations; but we need to retain our misgivings
   about them and not to grow careless.  In contemplation the
   Lord Himself relieves us of this care, for He will not trust
   us to look after ourselves. So dearly does He love our souls
   that He prevents them from rushing into things which may do
   them harm just at this time when He is anxious to help them.
   So He calls them to His side at once, and in a single moment
   reveals more truths to them and gives them a clearer insight
   into the nature of everything than they could otherwise gain
   in many years.  For our sight is poor and the dust which we
   meet on the road blinds us; but in contemplation the Lord
   brings us to the end of the day’s journey without our
   understanding how.</p>

<p id="i.xxv-p8">The third property of water is that it satisfies and quenches
   thirst. Thirst, I think, means the desire for something which
   is very necessary for us—so necessary that if we have none
   of it we shall die. It is a strange thing that if we have no
   water we die, and that we can also lose our lives through
   having too much of it, as happens to many people who get
   drowned. Oh, my Lord, if only one could be plunged so deeply
   into this living water that one’s life would end! Can that be?
   Yes: this love and desire for God can increase so much that
   human nature is unable to bear it, and so there have been
   persons who have died of it. I knew one person <note place="foot" n="63" id="i.xxv-p8.1">The author probably refers to herself: Cf.
      <em id="i.xxv-p8.2">Life</em>, Chapter XX, and <em id="i.xxv-p8.3">Relations</em>,
      <em id="i.xxv-p8.4">passim</em>.</note>who had this living water in such
   great abundance that she would almost have been drawn out of
   herself by raptures if God had not quickly succoured her.
   <em id="i.xxv-p8.5">She had such a thirst, and her desire grew so greatly,
      that she realized clearly that she might quite possibly die
      of thirst if something were not done for her</em>. I say
   that she would almost have been drawn out of herself because
   in this state the soul is in repose. So intolerable does such
   a soul find the world that it seems to be overwhelmed, <note place="foot" n="64" id="i.xxv-p8.6"><em id="i.xxv-p8.7">Lit</em>.: “drowned.”</note>but it comes
   to life again in God; and in this way His Majesty enables it
   to enjoy experiences which, if it had remained within itself,
   would perforce have cost it its life.</p>

<p id="i.xxv-p9">Let it be understood from this that, as there can be nothing
   in our supreme Good which is not perfect, all that He gives is
   for our welfare; and, however abundant this water which He
   gives may be, in nothing that He gives can there be
   superfluity. For, if His gift is abundant, He also bestows on
   the soul, as I have said, an abundant capacity for drinking;
   just as a glassmaker moulds his vessels to the size he thinks
   necessary, so that there is room for what he wishes to pour
   into them. As our desires for this water come from ourselves,
   they are never free from fault; any good that there may be in
   them comes from the help of the Lord. But we are so indiscreet
   that, as the pain is sweet and pleasant, we think we can never
   have too much of it. We have an immeasurable longing for it,
   <note place="foot" n="65" id="i.xxv-p9.1"><em id="i.xxv-p9.2">Lit</em>.: “We eat it without
      measure.”</note>and, so far as is possible on earth, we
   stimulate this longing: sometimes this goes so far as to cause
   death. How happy is such a death! And yet by living one might
   perhaps have helped others to die of the desire for it.
   I believe the devil has something to do with this: knowing how
   much harm we can do him by living, he tempts us to be
   indiscreet in our penances and so to ruin our health, which is
   a matter of no small moment to him.</p>

<p id="i.xxv-p10">I advise anyone who attains to an experience of this fierce
   thirst to watch herself carefully, for I think she will have
   to contend with this temptation. She may not die of her
   thirst, but her health will be ruined, and she will
   involuntarily give her feelings outward expression, which
   ought at all costs to be avoided. Sometimes, however, all our
   diligence in this respect is unavailing and we are unable to
   hide our emotions as much as we should like. Whenever we are
   assailed by these strong impulses stimulating the increase of
   our desire, let us take great care not to add to them
   ourselves but to check them gently <note place="foot" n="66" id="i.xxv-p10.1"><em id="i.xxv-p10.2">Lit</em>.: “to cut the thread.”</note>by
   thinking of something else. For our own nature may be playing
   as great a part in producing these feelings as our love. There
   are some people <em id="i.xxv-p10.3">of this type</em> who have keen desires
   for all kinds of things, even for bad things, but I do not
   think such people can have achieved great mortification, for
   mortification is always profitable. It seems foolish to check
   so good a thing as this desire, but it is not. I am not saying
   that the desire should be uprooted—only checked; one may be
   able to do this by stimulating some other desire which is
   equally praiseworthy.</p>

<p id="i.xxv-p11">In order to explain myself better I will give an illustration.
   A man has a great desire to be with God, as Saint Paul had,
   and to be loosed from this prison. <note place="foot" n="67" id="i.xxv-p11.1">Presumably a reminiscence of Romans vii, 24 or
      Philippians i, 23.</note>This causes him pain which yet is
   in itself a great joy, and no small degree of mortification
   will be needed if he is to check it—in fact, he will not
   always be able to do so. But when he finds it oppressing him
   so much he may almost lose his reason. I saw this happen to
   someone not long ago; she was of an impetuous nature, but so
   accustomed to curbing her own will that, from what I had seen
   at other times, I thought her will was completely annihilated;
   yet, when I saw her for a moment, the great stress and strain
   caused by her efforts to hide her feelings had all but
   destroyed her reason. <note place="foot" n="68" id="i.xxv-p11.2">This, too, is
      generally taken as referring to St.  Teresa
      herself.</note>In such an extreme case, I think, even did
   the desire come from the Spirit of God, it would be true
   humility to be afraid; for we must not imagine that we have
   sufficient charity to bring us to such a state of
   oppression.</p>

<p id="i.xxv-p12">I shall not think it at all wrong (if it be possible, I mean,
   for it may not always be so) for us to change our desire by
   reflecting that, if we live, we have more chance of serving
   God, and that we might do this by giving light to some soul
   which otherwise would be lost; as well as that, if we serve
   Him more, we shall deserve to enjoy Him more, and grieve that
   we have served Him so little. These are consolations
   appropriate to such great trials: they will allay our pain and
   we shall gain a great deal by them if in order to serve the
   Lord Himself we are willing to spend a long time here below
   and to live with our grief. It is as if a person were
   suffering a great trial or a grievous affliction and we
   consoled him by telling him to have patience and leave himself
   in God’s hands so that His will might be fulfilled in him: it
   is always best to leave ourselves in God’s hands.</p>

<p id="i.xxv-p13">And what if the devil had anything to do with these strong
   desires? This might be possible, as I think is suggested in
   Cassian’s story of a hermit, leading the austerest of lives,
   who was persuaded by the devil to throw himself down a well so
   that he might see God the sooner. <note place="foot" n="69" id="i.xxv-p13.1">Cassian:
      <em id="i.xxv-p13.2">Conferences</em>, II. v.</note>I do not think this
   hermit can have served God either humbly or efficiently, for
   the Lord is faithful and His Majesty would never allow
   a servant of His to be blinded in a matter in which the truth
   was so clear. But, of course, if the desire had come from God,
   it would have done the hermit no harm; for such desires bring
   with them illumination, moderation and discretion. This is
   fitting, but our enemy and adversary seeks to harm us wherever
   he can; and, as he is not unwatchful, we must not be so
   either. This is an important matter in many respects: for
   example, we must shorten our time of prayer, however much joy
   it gives us, if we see our bodily strength waning or find that
   our head aches: discretion is most necessary in
   everything.</p>

<p id="i.xxv-p14">Why do you suppose, daughters, that I have tried, as people
   say, to describe the end of the battle before it has begun and
   to point to its reward by telling you about the blessing which
   comes from drinking of the heavenly source of this living
   water? I have done this so that you may not be distressed at
   the trials and annoyances of the road, and may tread it with
   courage and not grow weary; for, as I have said, it may be
   that, when you have arrived, and have only to stoop and drink
   of the spring, you may fail to do so and lose this blessing,
   thinking that you have not the strength to attain it and that
   it is not for you.</p>

<p id="i.xxv-p15">Remember, the Lord invites us all; and, since He is Truth
   Itself, we cannot doubt Him. If His invitation were not
   a general one, He would not have said: “I will give you to
   drink.” He might have said: “Come, all of you, for after all
   you will lose nothing by coming; and I will give drink to
   those whom I think fit for it.” But, as He said we were all to
   come, without making this condition, I feel sure that none
   will fail to receive this living water unless they cannot keep
   to the path. <note place="foot" n="70" id="i.xxv-p15.1">E. ends the chapter here. This
      final paragraph appears to be based upon St. John vii,
      37.</note>May the Lord, Who promises it, give us grace, for
   His Majesty’s own sake, to seek it as it must be sought.</p>

</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="20" title="Describes how, in one way or    another, we never lack consolation on the road of prayer.    Counsels the sisters to include this subject continually in    their conversation." shorttitle="Section 20" progress="50.54%" id="i.xxvi" prev="i.xxv" next="i.xxvii">

<h1 id="i.xxvi-p0.1">CHAPTER 20<br /> Describes how, in one way or another, we
   never lack consolation on the road of prayer.  Counsels the
   sisters to include this subject continually in their
   conversation.</h1>

<p id="i.xxvi-p1">In this last chapter I seem to have been contradicting what
   I had previously said, as, in consoling those who had not
   reached the contemplative state, I told them that the Lord had
   different roads by which they might come to Him, just as He
   also had many mansions. <note place="foot" n="71" id="i.xxvi-p1.1">There is
      a reference here to St. John xiv, 2.</note>I now repeat
   this: His Majesty, being Who He is and understanding our
   weakness, has provided for us. But He did not say: “Some must
   come by this way and others by that.” His mercy is so great
   that He has forbidden none to strive to come and drink of this
   fountain of life. Blessed be He for ever! What good reasons
   there would have been for His forbidding me!</p>

<p id="i.xxvi-p2">But as He did not order me to cease from drinking when I had
   begun to do so, but caused me to be plunged into the depths of
   the water, it is certain that He will forbid no one to come:
   indeed, He calls us publicly, and in a loud voice, to do
   so.<note place="foot" n="72" id="i.xxvi-p2.1">St. John vii, 37.</note> Yet, as He is
   so good, He does not force us to drink, but enable those who
   wish to follow Him to drink in many ways so that none may lack
   comfort or die of thirst. For from this rich spring flow many
   streams—some large, others small, and also little pools for
   children, which they find quite large enough, for the sight of
   a great deal of water would frighten them: by children, I mean
   those who are in the early stages. <note place="foot" n="73" id="i.xxvi-p2.2"><em id="i.xxvi-p2.3">Lit</em>.: “these are they who are,
      etc.”</note>Therefore, sisters, have no fear that you will
   die of thirst on this road; you will never lack so much of the
   water of comfort that your thirst will be intolerable; so take
   my advice and do not tarry on the way, but strive like strong
   men until you die in the attempt, for you are here for nothing
   else than to strive. If you always pursue this determination
   to die rather than fail to reach the end of the road, the Lord
   may bring you through this life with a certain degree of
   thirst, but in the life which never ends He will give you
   great abundance to drink and you will have no fear of its
   failing you.  May the Lord grant us never to fail Him.
   Amen.</p>

<p id="i.xxvi-p3">Now, in order to set out upon this aforementioned road so that
   we do not go astray at the very start, let us consider for
   a moment how the first stage of our journey is to be begun,
   for that is the most important thing—or rather, every part
   of the journey is of importance to the whole. I do not mean to
   say that no one who has not the resolution that I am going to
   describe should set out upon the road, for the Lord will
   gradually bring her nearer to perfection. And even if she did
   no more than take one step, this alone has such virtue that
   there is no fear of her losing it or of failing to be very
   well rewarded. We might compare her to someone who has
   a rosary with a bead specially indulgenced: <note place="foot" n="74" id="i.xxvi-p3.1"><em id="i.xxvi-p3.2">Cuenta de perdones</em>: a bead larger in
      size than the remainder in the rosary and carrying special
      indulgences for the souls in purgatory.</note>one prayer in
   itself will bring her something, and the more she uses the
   bead the more she will gain; but if she left it in a box and
   never took it out it would be better for her not to have it.
   So, although she may never go any farther along the same road,
   the short distance she has progressed will give her light and
   thus help her to go along other roads, and the farther she
   goes the more light she will gain. In fact, she may be sure
   that she will do herself no kind of harm through having
   started on the road, even if she leaves it, for good never
   leads to evil. So, daughters, whenever you meet people and
   find them well-disposed and even attracted to the life of
   prayer, try to remove from them all fear of beginning a course
   which may bring them such great blessings. <note place="foot" n="75" id="i.xxvi-p3.3"><em id="i.xxvi-p3.4">Lit</em>.: “of beginning so great
      a good.”</note>For the love of God, I beg you always to see
   to it that your conversation is benefiting those with whom you
   speak. For your prayers must be for the profit of their souls;
   and, since you must always pray to the Lord for them, sisters,
   you would seem to be doing ill if you did not strive to
   benefit them in every possible way.</p>

<p id="i.xxvi-p4">If you would be a good kinswoman, this is true friendship; if
   you would be a good friend, you may be sure that this is the
   only possible way. Let the truth be in your hearts, as it will
   be if you practise meditation, and you will see clearly what
   love we are bound to have for our neighbours. This is no time
   for child’s play, sisters, and these worldly friendships, good
   though they may be, seem no more than that. Neither with your
   relatives nor with anyone else must you use such phrases as
   “If you love me”, or “Don’t you love me?” unless you have in
   view some noble end and the profit of the person to whom you
   are speaking. It may be necessary, in order to get a relative
—a brother or some such person—to listen to the truth and
   accept it, to prepare him for it by using such phrases and
   showing him signs of love, which are always pleasing to sense.
   He may possibly be more affected, and influenced, by one kind
   word, as such phrases are called, than by a great deal which
   you might say about God, and then there would be plenty of
   opportunities for you to talk to him about God afterwards.
   I do not forbid such phrases, therefore, provided you use them
   in order to bring someone profit. But for no other reason can
   there be any good in them and they may even do harm without
   your being aware of it.  Everybody knows that you are nuns and
   that your business is prayer.  Do not say to yourselves: “I
   have no wish to be considered good,” for what people see in
   you is bound to bring them either profit or harm. People like
   nuns, on whom is laid the obligation to speak of nothing save
   in the spirit of God, <note place="foot" n="76" id="i.xxvi-p4.1"><em id="i.xxvi-p4.2">Lit</em>.: “save
      in God”—i.e., save as those whose life is centred in
      God: not necessarily, I think, only <em id="i.xxvi-p4.3">of</em>
      God.</note>act very wrongly if they dissemble in this way,
   except occasionally for the purpose of doing greater good.
   Your intercourse and conversation must be like this: let any
   who wish to talk to you learn your language; and, if they will
   not, be careful never to learn theirs: it might lead you to
   hell.</p>

<p id="i.xxvi-p5">It matters little if you are considered ill-bred and still
   less if you are taken for hypocrites: indeed, you will gain by
   this, because only those who understand your language will
   come to see you. If one knows no Arabic, one has no desire to
   talk a great deal with a person who knows no other language.
   So worldly people will neither weary you nor do you harm—
   and it would do you no small harm to have to begin to
   <em id="i.xxvi-p5.1">learn and</em> talk a new language; you would spend all
   your time learning it. You cannot know as well as I do, for
   I have found it out by experience, how very bad this is for
   the soul; no sooner does it learn one thing than it has to
   forget another and it never has any rest. This you must at all
   costs avoid; for peace and quiet in the soul are of great
   importance on the road which we are about to tread.</p>

<p id="i.xxvi-p6">If those with whom you converse wish to learn your language,
   it is not for you to teach it to them, but you can tell them
   what wealth they will gain by learning it. Never grow tried of
   this, but do it piously, lovingly and prayerfully, with a view
   to helping them; they will then realize what great gain <em id="i.xxvi-p6.1">it
      brings</em>, and will go and seek a master to teach it
   them. Our Lord would be doing you no light favour if through
   your agency He were to arouse some soul to obtain this
   blessing. When once one begins to describe this road, what
   a large number of things there are to be said about it, even
   by those who have trodden it as unsuccessfully as I have!
   <em id="i.xxvi-p6.2">I only wish I could write with both hands, so as not to
      forget one thing while I am saying another</em>. May it
   please the Lord, sisters, that you may be enabled to speak of
   it better than I have done.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="21" title="Describes the great importance    of setting out upon the practice of prayer with firm    resolution and of heeding no difficulties put in the way by    the devil" shorttitle="Section 21" progress="52.31%" id="i.xxvii" prev="i.xxvi" next="i.xxviii">

<h1 id="i.xxvii-p0.1">CHAPTER 21<br /> Describes the great importance of setting out
   upon the practice of prayer with firm resolution and of
   heeding no difficulties put in the way by the devil.</h1>

<p id="i.xxvii-p1">Do not be dismayed, daughters, at the number of things which
   you have to consider before setting out on this Divine
   journey, which is the royal road to Heaven. <note place="foot" n="77" id="i.xxvii-p1.1">“Do not be surprised, daughters, for this is
      the royal road (<em id="i.xxvii-p1.2">camino real</em>) to Heaven.” A more
      idiomatic translation of <em id="i.xxvii-p1.3">camino real</em> would be
      “king’s highway”.</note>By taking this road we gain such
   precious treasures that it is no wonder if the cost seems to
   us a high one. The time will come when we shall realize that
   all we have paid has been nothing at all by comparison with
   the greatness of our prize.</p>

<p id="i.xxvii-p2">Let us now return to those who wish to travel on this road,
   and will not halt until they reach their goal, which is the
   place where they can drink of this water of life. <em id="i.xxvii-p2.1">Although
      in some book or other—in several, in fact—I have read
      what a good thing it is to begin in this way, I do not
      think anything will be lost if I speak of it here</em>. As
   I say, it is most important—all-important, indeed—that
   they should begin well by making an earnest and most
   determined resolve <note place="foot" n="78" id="i.xxvii-p2.2"><em id="i.xxvii-p2.3">Lit</em>.:
      “determined determination”: this doubling of words is not
      uncommon in St. Teresa.</note>not to halt until they reach
   their goal, whatever may come, whatever may happen to them,
   however hard they may have to labour, whoever may complain of
   them, whether they reach their goal or die on the road or have
   no heart to confront the trials which they meet, whether the
   very world dissolves before them. Yet again and again people
   will say to us: “It is dangerous”, “So-and-so was lost through
   doing this”, “Someone else got into wrong ways”, “Some other
   person, who was always praying, fell just the same”, “It is
   bad for virtue”, “It is not meant for women; it may lead them
   into delusions”, “They would do better to stick to their
   spinning”, “These subtleties are of no use to them”, “It is
   quite enough for them to say their Paternoster and Ave
   Maria.”</p>

<p id="i.xxvii-p3">With this last remark, sisters, I quite agree. Of course it is
   enough! It is always a great thing to base your prayer on
   prayers which were uttered by the very lips of the Lord.
   People are quite right to say this, and, were it not for our
   great weakness and the lukewarmness of our devotion, there
   would be no need for any other systems of prayer or for any
   other books at all. I am speaking to souls who are unable to
   recollect themselves by meditating upon other mysteries, and
   who think they need special methods of prayer; some people
   have such ingenious minds <note place="foot" n="79" id="i.xxvii-p3.1"><em id="i.xxvii-p3.2">Lit</em>.:
      “are such ingenious geniuses.”</note>that nothing is good
   enough for them! So I think I will start to lay down some
   rules for each part of our prayer—beginning, middle and end
—although I shall not spend long on the higher stages. They
   cannot take books from you, and, if you are studious and
   humble, you need nothing more.</p>

<p id="i.xxvii-p4">I have always been fond of the words of the Gospels and have
   found more recollection in them than in the most carefully
   planned books—especially books of which the authors were
   not fully approved, and which I never wanted to read. If
   I keep close to this Master of wisdom, He may perhaps give me
   some thoughts<note place="foot" n="80" id="i.xxvii-p4.1">V.: <em id="i.xxvii-p4.2">alguna
         consideración</em>: the use of the singular form in
      a plural sense, with the shade of meaning which might be
      conveyed by “some occasional thoughts,” is common in
      Spanish. E. uses one of St. Teresa’s characteristic
      diminutives (see Vol. 1, p. xxi) <em id="i.xxvii-p4.3">alguna
         consideracioncita</em>—“some (occasional) trifling
      thoughts.”</note> which will help you. I do not say that
   I will explain these Divine prayers, for that I should not
   presume to do, and there are a great many explanations of them
   already. Even were there none, it would be ridiculous for me
   to attempt any. But I will write down a few thoughts on the
   words of the Paternoster; for sometimes, when we are most
   anxious to nurture our devotion, consulting a great many books
   will kill it. When a master is himself giving a lesson, he
   treats his pupil kindly and likes him to enjoy being taught
   and does his utmost to help him learn. Just so will this
   heavenly Master do with us.</p>

<p id="i.xxvii-p5">Pay no heed, then, to anyone who tries to frighten you or
   depicts to you the perils of the way. What a strange idea that
   one could ever expect to travel on a road infested by thieves,
   for the purpose of gaining some great treasure, without
   running into danger! Worldly people like to take life
   peaceably; but they will deny themselves sleep, perhaps for
   nights on end, in order to gain a farthing’s profit, and they
   will leave you no peace either of body or of soul. If, when
   you are on the way to gaining this treasure, or to taking it
   by force (as the Lord says the violent do) and are travelling
   by this royal road—this safe road trodden by our King and
   by His elect and His saints—if even then they tell you it
   is full of danger and make you so afraid, what will be the
   dangers encountered by those who think they will be able to
   gain this treasure and yet are not on the road to it?</p>

<p id="i.xxvii-p6">Oh, my daughters, how incomparably greater must be the risks
   they run! And yet they have no idea of this until they fall
   headlong into some real danger. Having perhaps no one to help
   them, they lose this water altogether, and drink neither much
   nor little of it, either from a pool or from a stream. How do
   you suppose they can do without a drop of this water and yet
   travel along a road on which there are so many adversaries to
   fight? Of course, sooner or later, they will die of thirst;
   for we must all journey to this fountain, my daughters,
   whether we will or no, though we may not all do so in the same
   way. Take my advice, then, and let none mislead you by showing
   you any other road than that of prayer.</p>

<p id="i.xxvii-p7">I am not now discussing whether or no everyone must practise
   mental or vocal prayer; but I do say that you yourselves
   require both. For prayer is the duty of religious. If anyone
   tells you it is dangerous, look upon that person himself as
   your principal danger and flee from his company. Do not forget
   this, for it is advice that you may possibly need. It will be
   dangerous for you if you do not possess humility and the other
   virtues; but God forbid that the way of prayer should be a way
   of danger! This fear seems to have been invented by the devil,
   who has apparently been very clever in bringing about the fall
   of some who practise prayer.</p>

<p id="i.xxvii-p8">See how blind the world is! It never thinks of all the
   thousands who have fallen into heresies and other great evils
   through yielding to distractions and not practising prayer. As
   against these multitudes there are a few who did practise
   prayer and whom the devil has been successful enough at his
   own trade to cause to fall: in doing this he has also caused
   some to be very much afraid of virtuous practices. Let those
   who make use of this pretext to absolve themselves from such
   practices take heed, for in order to save themselves from evil
   they are fleeing from good. I have never heard of such
   a wicked invention; it must indeed come from the devil. Oh, my
   Lord, defend Thyself. See how Thy words are being
   misunderstood. Permit no such weakness in Thy servants.</p>

<p id="i.xxvii-p9">There is one great blessing—you will always find a few
   people ready to help you. For it is a characteristic of the
   true servant of God, to whom His Majesty has given light to
   follow the true path, that, when beset by these fears, his
   desire not to stop only increases. He sees clearly whence the
   devil’s blows are coming, but he parries each blow and breaks
   his adversary’s head. The anger which this arouses in the
   devil is greater than all the satisfaction which he receives
   from the pleasures given him by others. When, in troublous
   times, he has sown his tares, and seems to be leading men
   everywhere in his train, half-blinded, and [deceiving them
   into] believing themselves to be zealous for the right, God
   raises up someone to open their eyes and bid them look at the
   fog with which the devil has obscured their path. (How great
   God is! To think that just one man, or perhaps two, can do
   more by telling the truth than can a great many men all
   together!) And then they gradually begin to see the path again
   and God gives them courage. If people say there is danger in
   prayer, this servant of God, by his deeds if not by his words,
   tries to make them realize what a good thing it is. If they
   say that frequent communion is inadvisable, he only practises
   it the more. So, because just one or two are fearlessly
   following the better path, the Lord gradually regains what He
   had lost.</p>

<p id="i.xxvii-p10">Cease troubling about these fears, then, sisters; and never
   pay heed to such matters of popular opinion. This is no time
   for believing everyone; believe only those whom you see
   modelling their lives on the life of Christ. Endeavour always
   to have a good conscience; practise humility; despise all
   worldly things; and believe firmly in the teaching of our Holy
   Mother [the Roman] Church. You may then be quite sure that you
   are on a [very] good road. Cease, as I have said, to have fear
   where no fear is; if any one attempts to frighten you, point
   out the road to him in all humility. Tell him that you have
   a Rule which commands you, as it does, to pray without
   ceasing, and that that rule you must keep. If they tell you
   that you should practise only vocal prayer, ask whether your
   mind and heart ought not to be in what you say. If they answer
   “Yes”—and they cannot do otherwise—you see they are
   admitting that you are bound to practise mental prayer, and
   even contemplation, if God should grant it you. [Blessed be He
   for ever.]</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="22" title="Explains the meaning of mental    prayer" shorttitle="Section 22" progress="54.46%" id="i.xxviii" prev="i.xxvii" next="i.xxix">

<h1 id="i.xxviii-p0.1">CHAPTER 22<br /> Explains the meaning of mental prayer.</h1>

<p id="i.xxviii-p1">You must know, daughters, that whether or no you are
   practising mental prayer has nothing to do with keeping the
   lips closed. If, while I am speaking with God, I have a clear
   realization and full consciousness that I am doing so, and if
   this is more real to me than the words I am uttering, then
   I am combining mental and vocal prayer. When people tell you
   that you are speaking with God by reciting the Paternoster and
   thinking of worldly things—well, words fail me. When you
   speak, as it is right for you to do, with so great a Lord, it
   is well that you should think of Who it is that you are
   addressing, and what you yourself are, if only that you may
   speak to Him with proper respect. How can you address a king
   with the deference due to him, or how can you know what
   ceremonies have to be used when speaking to a grandee, unless
   you are clearly conscious of the nature of his position and of
   yours? It is because of this, and because it is the custom to
   do so, that you must behave respectfully to him, and must
   learn <em id="i.xxviii-p1.1">what the custom is, and not be careless about such
      things</em>, or <em id="i.xxviii-p1.2">you will be dismissed as a simpleton
      and obtain none of the things you desire.  And furthermore,
      unless you are quite conversant with it, you must get all
      necessary information, and have what you are going to say
      written down for you. It once happened to me, when I was
      not accustomed to addressing aristocrats, that I had to go
      on a matter of urgent business to see a lady who had to be
      addressed as “Your Ladyship”.<note place="foot" n="81" id="i.xxviii-p1.3">This is
         generally taken as referring to St. Teresa’s visit to
         Doña Luisa de la Cerda in 1562.</note>I was shown that
      word in writing; but I am stupid, and had never used such
      a term before; so when I arrived I got it wrong. So
      I decided to tell her about it and she laughed heartily and
      told me to be good enough to use the ordinary form of
      polite address,<note place="foot" n="82" id="i.xxviii-p1.4"><em id="i.xxviii-p1.5">Lit</em>.: “to call
         her ‘Honour.” The point of this delightfully unaffected
         reminiscence, omitted in V. and inserted here rather for
         its attractiveness than for its artistic
         appropriateness, is that “Your Honour” (<em id="i.xxviii-p1.6">Vuestra
            Merced</em>: now abbreviated to Vd. and used as the
         third personal pronoun of ordinary polite address) was
         an expression merely of respect and not of rank: the
         Saint often uses it, for example, in addressing her
         confessors. It was as though a peer of the realm were to
         say “Just call me ‘Sir.”</note>which I did</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xxviii-p2">How is it, my Lord, how is it, my Emperor, that Thou canst
   suffer this, <em id="i.xxviii-p2.1">Prince of all Creation</em>? For Thou, my
   God, art a King without end, and Thine is no borrowed Kingdom,
   <em id="i.xxviii-p2.2">but Thine own, and it will never pass away</em>. When the
   Creed says “Whose Kingdom shall have no end” the phrase nearly
   always makes me feel particularly happy. I praise Thee, Lord,
   and bless Thee, <em id="i.xxviii-p2.3">and all things praise Thee</em> for ever
—for Thy Kingdom will endure for ever. Do Thou never allow
   it to be thought right, Lord, for those who <em id="i.xxviii-p2.4">praise Thee
      and</em> come to speak with Thee to do so with their lips
   alone. What do you mean, Christians, when you say that mental
   prayer is unnecessary? Do you understand what you are saying?
   I really do not think you can. And so you want us all to go
   wrong: you cannot know what mental prayer is, or how vocal
   prayers should be said, or what is meant by contemplation.
   For, if you knew this, you would not condemn on the one hand
   what you praise on the other.</p>

<p id="i.xxviii-p3">Whenever I remember to do so, I shall always speak of mental
   and vocal prayer together, daughters, so that you may not be
   alarmed. I know what such fears lead to, <note place="foot" n="83" id="i.xxviii-p3.1">For “fears” the original has “things”; but
      that seems to be the meaning.</note>for I have suffered
   a certain number of trials in this respect, and so I should be
   sorry if anyone were to unsettle you, for it is very bad for
   you to have misgivings while you are walking on this path. It
   is most important that you should realize you are making
   progress; for if a traveller is told that he has taken the
   wrong road, and has lost his way, he begins to wander to and
   fro and the constant search for the right road tires him,
   wastes his time and delays his arrival. Who can say that it is
   wrong if, before we begin reciting the Hours or the Rosary, we
   think Whom we are going to address, and who we are that are
   addressing Him, so that we may do so in the way we should?
   I assure you, sisters, that if you gave all due attention to
   a consideration of these two points before beginning the vocal
   prayers which you are about to say you would be engaging in
   mental prayer for a very long time. For we cannot approach
   a prince and address him in the same careless way that we
   should adopt in speaking to a peasant or to some poor woman
   like ourselves, whom we may address however we like.</p>

<p id="i.xxviii-p4">The reason we sometimes do so is to be found in the humility
   of this King, Who, unskilled though I am in speaking with Him,
   does not refuse to hear me or forbid me to approach Him, or
   command His guards to throw me out. For the angels in His
   presence know well that their King is such that He prefers the
   unskilled language of a humble peasant boy, knowing that he
   would say more if he had more to say, to the speech of the
   wisest and most learned men, however elegant may be their
   arguments, if these are not accompanied by humility. But we
   must not be unmannerly because He is good. If only to show our
   gratitude to Him for enduring our foul odour and allowing such
   a one as myself to come near Him, it is well that we should
   try to realize His purity and His nature. It is true that we
   recognize this at once when we approach Him, just as we do
   when we visit the lords of the earth. Once we are told about
   their fathers’ names and their incomes and dignities, there is
   no more for us to know about them; for on earth one makes
   account of persons, and honours them, not because of their
   merits but because of their possessions.</p>

<p id="i.xxviii-p5">O miserable world! Give hearty praise to God, daughters, that
   you have left so wretched a place, <note place="foot" n="84" id="i.xxviii-p5.1"><em id="i.xxviii-p5.2">Lit</em>.: “a thing”.</note>where people
   are honoured, not for their own selves, but for what they get
   from their tenants and vassals: if these fail them, they have
   no honour left. It is a curious thing, and when you go out to
   recreation together you should laugh about it, for it is
   a good way of spending your time to reflect how blindly people
   in the world spend theirs.</p>

<p id="i.xxviii-p6">O Thou our Emperor! Supreme Power, Supreme Goodness, Wisdom
   Itself, without beginning, without end and without measure in
   Thy works: infinite are these and incomprehensible,
   a fathomless ocean of wonders, O Beauty <note place="foot" n="85" id="i.xxviii-p6.1">Lit.: “a Beauty . . .  itself”, as though
      referring to <em id="i.xxviii-p6.2">obras</em>: “works.”</note>containing
   within Thyself all beauties. O Very Strength! God help me!
   Would that I could command all the eloquence of mortals and
   all wisdom, so as to understand, as far as is possible here
   below, that to know nothing is everything, and thus to
   describe some of the many things on which we may meditate in
   order to learn something of the nature of this our Lord and
   Good.</p>

<p id="i.xxviii-p7">When you approach God, then, try <note place="foot" n="86" id="i.xxviii-p7.1"><em id="i.xxviii-p7.2">Lit</em>.: “Yes, approach God, and, in
      approaching, try.”</note>to think and realize Whom you are
   about to address and continue to do so while you are
   addressing Him. If we had a thousand lives, we should never
   fully understand how this Lord merits that we behave toward
   Him, before Whom even the angels tremble. He orders all things
   and He can do all things: with Him to will is to perform. It
   will be right, then, daughters, for us to endeavour to rejoice
   in these wondrous qualities of our Spouse and to know Whom we
   have wedded and what our lives should be. Why, God save us,
   when a woman in this world is about to marry, she knows
   beforehand whom she is to marry, what sort of a person he is
   and what property he possesses. Shall not we, then, who are
   already betrothed, think about our Spouse, <note place="foot" n="87" id="i.xxviii-p7.3">The words “think about our Spouse” appear in
      no manuscript but were added by Luis de León.</note>before
   we are wedded to Him and He takes us home to be with Him? If
   these thoughts are not forbidden to those who are betrothed to
   men on earth, how can we be forbidden to discover Who this Man
   is, Who is His Father, what is the country to which He will
   take me, what are the riches with which He promises to endow
   me, what is His rank, how I can best make Him happy, what
   I can do that will give Him pleasure, and how I can bring my
   rank into line with His. If a woman is to be happy in her
   marriage, it is just those things that she is advised to see
   about, even though her husband be a man of very low
   station.</p>

<p id="i.xxviii-p8">Shall less respect be paid to Thee, then, my Spouse, than to
   men? If they think it unfitting to do Thee honour, let them at
   least leave Thee Thy brides, who are to spend their lives with
   Thee. A woman is indeed fortunate in her life if her husband
   is so jealous that he will allow her to speak with no one but
   himself; it would be a pretty pass if she could not resolve to
   give him this pleasure, for it is reasonable enough that she
   should put up with this and not wish to converse with anyone
   else, since in him she has all that she can desire. To
   understand these truths, my daughters, is to practise mental
   prayer. If you wish to learn to understand them, and at the
   same time to practise vocal prayer, well and good. But do not,
   I beg you, address God while you are thinking of other things,
   for to do that is the result of not understanding what mental
   prayer is. I think I have made this clear. May the Lord grant
   us to learn how to put it into practice.  Amen.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="23" title="Describes the importance of    not turning back when one has set out upon the way of prayer.    Repeats how necessary it is to be resolute." shorttitle="Section 23" progress="56.60%" id="i.xxix" prev="i.xxviii" next="i.xxx">

<h1 id="i.xxix-p0.1">CHAPTER 23<br /> Describes the importance of not turning back
   when one has set out upon the way of prayer.  Repeats how
   necessary it is to be resolute.</h1>

<p id="i.xxix-p1">Now, as I have said, it is most important that from the first
   we should be very resolute, and for this there are so many
   reasons that if I were to give them all I should have to write
   at great length. <em id="i.xxix-p1.1">Some of them are given in other
      books</em>. I will tell you just two or three of them,
   sisters. One is that when we decide to give anything—such
   as this slight effort of recollection <note place="foot" n="88" id="i.xxix-p1.2"><em id="i.xxix-p1.3">Este cuidadito: lit.,</em> “this little
      attentiveness”—another characteristic
      diminuitive.</note>—to Him Who has given us so much, and
   Who is continually giving, it would be wrong for us not to be
   entirely resolute in doing so and to act like a person who
   lends something and expects to get it back again. (Not that we
   do not receive interest: on the contrary, we gain a great
   deal.) I do not call this “giving”. Anyone who has been lent
   something always feels slightly displeased when the lender
   wants it back again, especially if he is using it himself and
   has come to look upon it as his own.  If the two are friends
   and the lender is indebted to the recipient for many things of
   which he has made him free gifts, he will think it meanness
   and a great lack of affection if he will leave not even the
   smallest thing in his possession, merely as a sign of
   love.</p>

<p id="i.xxix-p2">What wife is there who, after receiving many valuable jewels
   from her husband, will not give him so much as a ring—which
   he wants, not because of its value, for all she has is his,
   but as <em id="i.xxix-p2.1">a sign of love and</em> a token that she will be
   his until she dies? Does the Lord deserve less than this that
   we should mock Him by taking away the worthless gift <note place="foot" n="89" id="i.xxix-p2.2"><em id="i.xxix-p2.3">Lit</em>.: “a nothing at all” (<em id="i.xxix-p2.4">una
         nonada</em>).</note>which we have given Him?  Since we
   have resolved to devote to Him this very brief period of time
—only a small part of what we spend upon ourselves and upon
   people who are not particularly grateful to us for it—let
   us give it Him freely, with our minds unoccupied by other
   things and entirely resolved never to take it back again,
   whatever we may suffer through trials, annoyances or
   aridities. Let me realize that this time is being lent me and
   is not my own, and feel that I can rightly be called to
   account for it if I am not prepared to devote it wholly to
   God.</p>

<p id="i.xxix-p3">I say “wholly”, but we must not be considered as taking it
   back if we should fail to give it Him for a day, or for a few
   days, because of legitimate occupations or through some
   indisposition.  Provided the intention remains firm, my God is
   not in the least meticulous; <note place="foot" n="90" id="i.xxix-p3.1"><em id="i.xxix-p3.2">No es nada
         delicado mi Dios</em>. “Fastidious” might be nearer to
      the characteristically bold adjective of the
      original.</note>He does not look at trivial details; and,
   if you are trying to please Him in any way, He will assuredly
   accept that as your gift. The other way is suitable for
   ungenerous souls, so mean that they are not large-hearted
   enough to give but find it as much as they can do to lend.
   Still, let them make some effort, for this Lord of ours will
   reckon everything we do to our credit and accept everything we
   want to give Him. In drawing up our reckoning, He is not in
   the least exacting, but generous; however large the amount we
   may owe Him, it is a small thing for Him to forgive us.  And,
   as to paying us, He is so careful about this that you need
   have no fear He will leave us without our reward if only we
   raise our eyes to Heaven and remember Him.</p>

<p id="i.xxix-p4">A second reason why we should be resolute is that this will
   give the devil less opportunity to tempt us. He is very much
   afraid of resolute souls, knowing by experience that they
   inflict great injury upon him, and, when he plans to do them
   harm, he only profits them and others and is himself the
   loser. We must not become unwatchful, or count upon this, for
   we have to do with treacherous folk, who are great cowards and
   dare not attack the wary, but, if they see we are careless,
   will work us great harm.  And if they know anyone to be
   changeable, and not resolute in <em id="i.xxix-p4.1">doing</em> what is good
   and firmly determined to persevere, they will not leave him
   alone either by night or by day and will suggest to him
   endless misgivings and difficulties. This I know very well by
   experience and so I have been able to tell you about it: I am
   sure that none of us realize its great importance.</p>

<p id="i.xxix-p5">Another reason, very much to the point, is that a resolute
   person fights more courageously. He knows that, come what may,
   he must not retreat. He is like a soldier in battle who is
   aware that if he is vanquished his life will not be spared and
   that if he escapes death in battle he must die afterwards.
   <em id="i.xxix-p5.1">It has been proved, I think, that</em> such a man will
   fight more resolutely and will try, as they say, to sell his
   life dearly, fearing the enemy’s blows the less because he
   understands the importance of victory and knows that his very
   life depends upon his gaining it.  We must also be
   <em id="i.xxix-p5.2">firmly</em> convinced from the start that, if we <em id="i.xxix-p5.3">fight
      courageously and</em> do not allow ourselves to be beaten,
   we shall get what we want, and there is no doubt that, however
   small our gains may be, they will make us very rich. Do not be
   afraid that the Lord Who has called us to drink of this spring
   will allow you to die of thirst. This I have already said and
   I should like to repeat it; for people are often timid when
   they have not learned by experience of the Lord’s goodness,
   even though they know of it by faith. It is a great thing to
   have experienced what friendship and joy He gives to those who
   walk on this road and how He takes almost the whole cost of it
   upon Himself.</p>

<p id="i.xxix-p6">I am not surprised that those who have never made this test
   should want to be sure that they will receive some interest on
   their outlay. But you already know that even in this life we
   shall receive a hundredfold, and that the Lord says: “Ask and
   it shall be given you.” <note place="foot" n="91" id="i.xxix-p6.1">St. Luke xi,
      9.</note>If you do not believe His Majesty in those
   passages of His Gospel where He gives us this assurance, it
   will be of little help to you, sisters, for me to weary my
   brains by telling you of it. Still, I will say to anyone who
   is in doubt that she will lose little by putting the matter to
   the test; for this journey has the advantage <note place="foot" n="92" id="i.xxix-p6.2"><em id="i.xxix-p6.3">Lit</em>.: “the good.”</note>of giving us
   <em id="i.xxix-p6.4">very much</em> more than we ask or shall even get so far
   as to desire. This is a never-failing truth: I know it;
   <em id="i.xxix-p6.5">though, if you do not find it so, do not believe any of
      the things I tell you</em>. I can call as witnesses those
   of you who, by God’s goodness, know it from experience.</p>

</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="24" title="Describes how vocal prayer may    be practised with perfection and how closely allied it is to    mental prayer" shorttitle="Section 24" progress="58.06%" id="i.xxx" prev="i.xxix" next="i.xxxi">

<h1 id="i.xxx-p0.1">CHAPTER 24<br /> Describes how vocal prayer may be practised
   with perfection and how closely allied it is to mental
   prayer.</h1>

<p id="i.xxx-p1">Let us now return to speak of those souls I have mentioned who
   cannot practise recollection or tie down their minds to mental
   prayer or make a meditation. We must not talk to them of
   either of those two things—they will not hear of them; as
   a matter of fact, there are a great many people who seem
   terrified at the very name of contemplation or mental
   prayer.</p>

<p id="i.xxx-p2">In case any such person should come to this house (for, as
   I have said, not all are led by the same path), I want to
   advise you, or, I might even say, to teach you (for, as your
   mother, and by the office of prioress which I hold, I have the
   right to do so) how you must practise vocal prayer, for it is
   right that you should understand what you are saying. Anyone
   unable to think of God may find herself wearied by long
   prayers, and so I will not begin to discuss these, but will
   speak simply of prayers which, as Christians, we must perforce
   recite—namely, the Paternoster and the Ave Maria—and
   then no one will be able to say of us that we are repeating
   words without understanding what we are saying. We may, of
   course, consider it enough to say our prayers as a mere habit,
   repeating the words and thinking that this will suffice.
   Whether it suffices or no I will not now discuss.<note place="foot" n="93" id="i.xxx-p2.1">The word rendered “discuss”, both here and
      below, is a strong one, <em id="i.xxx-p2.2">entrometerse</em>, to
      intermeddle.</note> Learned men must decide: <em id="i.xxx-p2.3">they will
      instruct people to whom God gives light to consult them,
      and I will not discuss the position of those who have not
      made a profession like our own</em>. But what I should
   like, daughters, is for us not to be satisfied with that
   alone: when I say the Creed, it seems to me right, <em id="i.xxx-p2.4">and
      indeed obligatory</em>, that I should understand and know
   what it is that I believe; and, when I repeat the “Our
   Father”, my love should make me want to understand Who this
   Father of ours is and Who the Master is that taught us this
   prayer.</p>

<p id="i.xxx-p3">If you assert that you know Who He is already, and so there is
   no need for you to think about Him, you are not right; there
   is a great deal of difference between one master and another,
   and it would be very wrong of us not to think about those who
   teach us, even on earth; if they are holy men and spiritual
   masters, and we are good pupils, it is impossible for us
   <em id="i.xxx-p3.1">not to have great love for them, and indeed to hold them
      in honour and often to talk about them</em>. And when it
   comes to the Master Who taught us this prayer, and Who loves
   us so much and is so anxious for us to profit by it, may God
   forbid that we should fail to think of Him often when we
   repeat it, although our own weakness may prevent us from doing
   so every time.</p>

<p id="i.xxx-p4">Now, in the first place, you know that His Majesty teaches
   that this prayer must be made when we are alone, just as He
   was often alone when He prayed, not because this was necessary
   for Him, but for our edification. It has already been said
   that it is impossible to speak to God and to the world at the
   same time; yet this is just what we are trying to do when we
   are saying our prayers and at the same time listening to the
   conversation of others or letting our thoughts wander on any
   matter that occurs to us, without making an effort to control
   them. There are occasions when one cannot help doing this:
   times of ill-health (especially in persons who suffer from
   melancholia); or times when our heads are tired, and, however
   hard we try, we cannot concentrate; or times when, for their
   own good, God allows His servants for days on end to go
   through great storms. And, although they are distressed and
   strive to calm themselves, they are unable to do so and
   incapable of attending to what they are saying, however hard
   they try, nor can they fix their understanding on anything:
   they seem to be in a frenzy, so distraught are they.</p>

<p id="i.xxx-p5">The very suffering of anyone in this state will show her that
   she is not to blame, and she must not worry, for that only
   makes matters worse, nor must she weary herself by trying to
   put sense into something—namely, her mind—which for the
   moment is without any. She should pray as best she can:
   indeed, she need not pray at all, but may try to rest her
   spirit as though she were ill and busy herself with some other
   virtuous action. These directions are meant for persons who
   keep careful guard over themselves and know that they must not
   speak to God and to the world at the same time. What we can do
   ourselves is to try to be alone—and God grant that this may
   suffice, as I say, to make us realize in Whose presence we are
   and how the Lord answers our petitions. Do you suppose that,
   because we cannot hear Him, He is silent? He speaks clearly to
   the heart when we beg Him from our hearts to do so. It would
   be a good idea for us to imagine <note place="foot" n="94" id="i.xxx-p5.1">More
      literally: “consider”, “reflect”.</note>that He has taught
   this prayer to each one of us individually, and that He is
   continually expounding it to us. The Master is never so far
   away that the disciple needs to raise his voice in order to be
   heard: He is always right at his side. I want you to
   understand that, if you are to recite the Paternoster well,
   one thing is needful: you must not leave the side of the
   Master Who has taught it you.</p>

<p id="i.xxx-p6">You will say at once that this is meditation, and that you are
   not capable of it, and do not even wish to practise it, but
   are content with vocal prayer. For there are impatient people
   who dislike giving themselves trouble, and it is troublesome
   at first to practise recollection of the mind when one has not
   made it a habit. So, in order not to make themselves the least
   bit tired, they say they are incapable of anything but vocal
   prayer and do not know how to do anything further. You are
   right to say that what we have described is mental prayer; but
   I assure you that I cannot distinguish it from vocal prayer
   faithfully recited with a realization of Who it is that we are
   addressing. Further, we are under the obligation of trying to
   pray attentively: may God grant that, by using these means, we
   may learn to say the Paternoster well and not find ourselves
   thinking of something irrelevant. I have sometimes experienced
   this myself, and the best remedy I have found for it is to try
   to fix my mind on the Person by Whom the words were first
   spoken. Have patience, then, and try to make this necessary
   practice into a habit, <em id="i.xxx-p6.1">for necessary it is, in my opinion,
      for those who would be nuns, and indeed for all who would
      pray like good Christians</em>.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="25" title="Describes the great gain which    comes to a soul when it practises vocal prayer perfectly.    Shows how God may raise it thence to things supernatural." shorttitle="Section 25" progress="59.52%" id="i.xxxi" prev="i.xxx" next="i.xxxii">

<h1 id="i.xxxi-p0.1">CHAPTER 25<br /> Describes the great gain which comes to
   a soul when it practises vocal prayer perfectly. Shows how God
   may raise it thence to things supernatural.</h1>

<p id="i.xxxi-p1">In case you should think there is little gain to be derived
   from practising vocal prayer perfectly, I must tell you that,
   while you are repeating the Paternoster or some other vocal
   prayer, it is quite possible for the Lord to grant you perfect
   contemplation. In this way His Majesty shows that He is
   listening to the person who is addressing Him, and that, in
   His greatness, He is addressing her, <note place="foot" n="95" id="i.xxxi-p1.1"><em id="i.xxxi-p1.2">Lit</em>.: “and that His greatness is
      addressing her.”</note>by suspending the understanding,
   putting a stop to all thought, and, as we say, taking the
   words out of her mouth, so that even if she wishes to speak
   she cannot do so, or at any rate not without great
   difficulty.</p>

<p id="i.xxxi-p2">Such a person understands that, without any sound of words,
   she is being taught by this Divine Master, Who is suspending
   her faculties, which, if they were to work, would be causing
   her harm rather than profit. The faculties rejoice without
   knowing how they rejoice; the soul is enkindled in love
   without understanding how it loves; it knows that it is
   rejoicing in the object of its love, yet it does not know how
   it is rejoicing in it. It is well aware that this is not a joy
   which can be attained by the understanding; the will embraces
   it, without understanding how; but, in so far as it can
   understand anything, it perceives that this is a blessing
   which could not be gained by the merits of all the trials
   suffered on earth put together. It is a gift of the Lord of
   earth and Heaven, Who gives it like the God He is. This,
   daughters, is perfect contemplation.</p>

<p id="i.xxxi-p3">You will now understand how different it is from mental
   prayer, which I have already described, and which consists in
   thinking of what we are saying, understanding it, and
   realizing Whom we are addressing, and who we are that are
   daring to address so great a Lord. To think of this and other
   similar things, such as how little we have served Him and how
   great is our obligation to serve Him, is mental prayer. Do not
   think of it as one more thing with an outlandish name <note place="foot" n="96" id="i.xxxi-p3.1"><em id="i.xxxi-p3.2">algarabía. Lit</em>.: “Arabic” and hence
      “gibberish,” “jargon.”</note>and do not let the name
   frighten you. To recite the Paternoster and the Ave Maria, or
   any other petition you like, is vocal prayer. But think how
   harsh your music will be without what must come first;
   sometimes even the words will get into the wrong order. In
   these two kinds of prayer, with God’s help, we may accomplish
   something ourselves. In the contemplation which I have just
   described we can do nothing. It is His Majesty Who does
   everything; the work is His alone and far transcends human
   nature.</p>

<p id="i.xxxi-p4">I described this as well as I was able in the relation which
   I made of it, as I have said, so that my confessors should see
   it when they read the account of my life which they had
   ordered me to write. As I have explained all this about
   contemplation at such length, therefore, I shall not repeat
   myself here and I am doing no more than touch upon it. If
   those of you who have experienced the happiness of being
   called by the Lord to this state of contemplation can get this
   book, you will find in it points and counsels which the Lord
   was pleased to enable me to set down. These should bring you
   great comfort and profit—in my opinion, at least, and in
   the opinion of several people who have seen it and who keep it
   at hand in order to make frequent use of it. I am ashamed to
   tell you that anything of mine is made such use of and the
   Lord knows with what confusion I write a great deal that I do.
   Blessed be He for thus bearing with me. Those of you who, as
   I say, have experience of supernatural prayer should procure
   the book after my death; those who have not have no need to do
   so but they should try to carry out what has been said in this
   one. Let them leave everything to the Lord, to Whom it belongs
   to grant this gift, and He will not deny it you if you do not
   tarry on the road but press forward so as to reach the end of
   your journey.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="26" title="Continues the description of    a method for recollecting the thoughts. Describes means of    doing this. This chapter is very profitable for those who are    beginning prayer." shorttitle="Section 26" progress="60.43%" id="i.xxxii" prev="i.xxxi" next="i.xxxiii">

<h1 id="i.xxxii-p0.1">CHAPTER 26<br /> Continues the description of a method for
   recollecting the thoughts. Describes means of doing this. This
   chapter is very profitable for those who are beginning
   prayer.</h1>

<p id="i.xxxii-p1">Let us now return to our vocal prayer, so that we may learn to
   pray in such a way that, without our understanding how, God
   may give us everything at once: if we do this, as I have said,
   we shall pray as we ought. As you know, the first things must
   be examination of conscience, confession of sin and the
   signing of yourself with the Cross. Then, daughter, as you are
   alone, you must look for a companion—and who could be
   a better Companion than the very Master Who taught you the
   prayer that you are about to say? Imagine that this Lord
   Himself is at your side and see how lovingly and how humbly He
   is teaching you—and, believe me, you should stay with so
   good a Friend for as long as you can before you leave Him. If
   you become accustomed to having Him at your side, and if He
   sees that you love Him to be there and are always trying to
   please Him, you will never be able, as we put it, to send Him
   away, nor will He ever fail you. He will help you in all your
   trials and you will have Him everywhere. Do you think it is
   a small thing to have such a Friend as that beside you?</p>

<p id="i.xxxii-p2">O sisters, those of you whose minds cannot reason for long or
   whose thoughts cannot dwell <em id="i.xxxii-p2.1">upon God</em> but are
   <em id="i.xxxii-p2.2">constantly</em> wandering must at all costs form this
   habit. I know quite well that you are capable of it—for
   many years I endured this trial of being unable to concentrate
   on one subject, and a very sore trial it is. But I know the
   Lord does not leave us so devoid of help that if we approach
   Him humbly and ask Him to be with us He will not grant our
   request. If a whole year passes without our obtaining what we
   ask, let us be prepared to try for longer. Let us never grudge
   time so well spent. Who, after all, is hurrying us? I am sure
   we can form this habit and strive to walk at the side of this
   true Master.</p>

<p id="i.xxxii-p3">I am not asking you now to think of Him, or to form numerous
   conceptions of Him, or to make long and subtle meditations
   with your understanding. I am asking you only to look at Him.
   For who can prevent you from turning the eyes of your soul
   (just for a moment, if you can do no more) upon this Lord? You
   are capable of looking at very ugly <em id="i.xxxii-p3.1">and loathsome</em>
   things: can you not, then, look at the most beautiful thing
   imaginable? Your Spouse never takes His eyes off you,
   daughters. He has borne with thousands of foul and abominable
   sins which you have committed against Him, yet even they have
   not been enough to make Him cease looking upon you. Is it such
   a great matter, then, for you to avert the eyes <em id="i.xxxii-p3.2">of your
      soul</em> from outward things and sometimes to look at Him?
   See, He is only waiting for us to look at Him, as He says to
   the Bride. <note place="foot" n="97" id="i.xxxii-p3.3">A vague reminiscence of some
      phrase from Canticles: perhaps ii, 14, 16, v, 2, or vi,
      12.</note>you will find Him. He longs so much for us to
   look at Him once more that it will not be for lack of effort
   on His part if we fail to do so.</p>

<p id="i.xxxii-p4">A wife, they say, must be like this if she is to have a happy
   married life with her husband. If he is sad, she must show
   signs of sadness; if he is merry, even though she may not in
   fact be so, she must appear merry too. See what slavery you
   have escaped from, sisters! Yet this, without any pretence, is
   really how we are treated by the Lord. He becomes subject to
   us and is pleased to let you be the mistress and to conform to
   your will. If you are happy, look upon your risen Lord, and
   the very thought of how He rose from the sepulchre will
   gladden you. How bright and how beautiful was He then! How
   majestic! <note place="foot" n="98" id="i.xxxii-p4.1"><em id="i.xxxii-p4.2">Lit</em>.: “With what
      majesty!”</note>How victorious! How joyful! He was like one
   emerging from a battle in which He had gained a great kingdom,
   all of which He desires you to have—and with it Himself. Is
   it such a great thing that you should turn your eyes but once
   and look upon Him Who has made you such great gifts?</p>

<p id="i.xxxii-p5">If you are suffering trials, or are sad, look upon Him on His
   way to the Garden. What sore distress He must have borne in
   His soul, to describe His own suffering as He did and to
   complain of it! Or look upon Him bound to the Column, full of
   pain, His flesh all torn to pieces by His great love for you.
   How much He suffered, persecuted by some, spat upon by others,
   denied by His friends, and even deserted by them, with none to
   take His part, frozen with the cold and left so completely
   alone that you may well comfort each other! Or look upon Him
   bending under the weight of the Cross and not even allowed to
   take breath: He will look upon you with His lovely and
   compassionate eyes, full of tears, and in comforting your
   grief will forget His own because you are bearing Him company
   in order to comfort Him and turning your head to look upon
   Him.</p>

<p id="i.xxxii-p6">“O Lord of the world, my true Spouse!” you may say to Him, if
   seeing Him in such a plight has filled your heart with such
   tenderness that you not only desire to look upon Him but love
   to speak to Him, not using forms of prayer, but words issuing
   from the compassion of your heart, which means so much to Him:
   “Art Thou so needy, my Lord and my Good, that Thou wilt accept
   poor companionship like mine? Do I read in Thy face that Thou
   hast found comfort, even in me? How can it be possible, Lord,
   that the angels are leaving Thee alone and that Thy Father is
   not comforting Thee?</p>

<p id="i.xxxii-p7">“If Thou, Lord, art willing to suffer all this for me, what am
   I suffering for Thee? What have I to complain of? I am
   ashamed, Lord, when I see Thee in such a plight, and if in any
   way I can imitate Thee I will suffer all trials that come to
   me and count them as a great blessing. Let us go both
   together, Lord: whither Thou goest, I must go; through
   whatsoever Thou passest, I must pass.” Take up this cross,
   sisters: never mind if the Jews trample upon you provided you
   can save Him some of His trials. Take no heed of what they say
   to you; be deaf to all detraction; stumble and fall with your
   Spouse, but do not draw back from your cross or give it up.
   Think often of the weariness of His journey and of how much
   harder His trials were than those which you have to suffer.
   However hard you may imagine yours to be, and however much
   affliction they may cause you, they will be a source of
   comfort to you, for you will see that they are matters for
   scorn compared with the trials endured by the Lord.</p>

<p id="i.xxxii-p8">You will ask me, sisters, how you can possibly do all this,
   and say that, if you had seen His Majesty with your bodily
   eyes at the time when He lived in the world, you would have
   done it willingly and gazed at Him for ever. Do not believe
   it: anyone who will not make the slight effort necessary for
   recollection in order to gaze upon this Lord present within
   her, which she can do without danger and with only the minimum
   of trouble, would have been far less likely to stand at the
   foot of the Cross with the Magdalen, who looked death (<em id="i.xxxii-p8.1">as
      they say</em>) straight in the face. What the glorious
   Virgin and this blessed saint must have suffered! What
   threats, what malicious words, what shocks, what insults! For
   the people they were dealing with were not exactly polite to
   them. No, indeed; theirs was the kind of courtesy you might
   meet in hell, for they were the ministers of the devil
   himself. Yet, terrible as the sufferings of these women must
   have been, they would not have noticed them in the presence of
   pain so much greater.</p>

<p id="i.xxxii-p9">So do not suppose, sisters, that you would have been prepared
   to endure such great trials then, if you are not ready for
   such trifling ones now. Practise enduring these and you may be
   given others which are greater. <em id="i.xxxii-p9.1">Believe that I am telling
      the truth when I say that you can do this, for I am
      speaking from experience</em>. You will find it very
   helpful if you can get an image or a picture of this Lord—
   one that you like—not to wear round your neck and never
   look at but to use regularly whenever you talk to Him, and He
   will tell you what to say. If words do not fail you when you
   talk to people <em id="i.xxxii-p9.2">on earth</em>, why should they do so when
   you talk to God? Do not imagine that they will—I shall
   certainly not believe that they have done so if you once form
   the habit. For when you never have intercourse with a person
   he soon becomes a stranger to you, and you forget how to talk
   to him; and before long, even if he is a kinsman, you feel as
   if you do not know him, for both kinship and friendship lose
   their influence when communication ceases.</p>

<p id="i.xxxii-p10">It is also a great help to have a good book, written in the
   vernacular, simply as an aid to recollection. With this aid
   you will learn to say your vocal prayers well, <em id="i.xxxii-p10.1">I mean, as
      they ought to be said</em>—and little by little,
   persuasively and methodically, you will get your soul used to
   this, so that it will no longer be afraid of it. Remember that
   many years have passed since it went away from its Spouse, and
   it needs very careful handling before it will return home. We
   sinners are like that: we have accustomed our souls and minds
   to go after their own pleasures (or pains, it would be more
   correct to say) until the unfortunate soul no longer knows
   what it is doing. When that has happened, a good deal of skill
   is necessary before it can be inspired with enough love to
   make it stay at home; but unless we can gradually do that we
   shall accomplish nothing. Once again I assure you that, if you
   are careful to form habits of the kind I have mentioned, you
   will derive such great profit from them that I could not
   describe it even if I wished. Keep at the side of this good
   Master, then, and be most firmly resolved to learn what He
   teaches you; His Majesty will then ensure your not failing to
   be good disciples, and He will never leave you unless you
   leave Him. Consider the words uttered by those Divine lips:
   the very first of them will show you at once what love He has
   for you, and it is no small blessing and joy for the pupil to
   see that his Master loves Him.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="27" title="Describes the great love shown    us by the Lord in the first words of the Paternoster and the    great importance of our making no account of good birth if we    truly desire to be the daughters of God." shorttitle="Section 27" progress="62.65%" id="i.xxxiii" prev="i.xxxii" next="i.xxxiv">

<h1 id="i.xxxiii-p0.1">CHAPTER 27<br /> Describes the great love shown us by the Lord
   in the first words of the Paternoster and the great importance
   of our making no account of good birth if we truly desire to
   be the daughters of God.</h1>

<p id="i.xxxiii-p1">“Our Father, which art in the Heavens.” O my Lord, how Thou
   dost reveal Thyself as the Father of such a Son, while Thy Son
   reveals Himself as the Son of such a Father! Blessed be Thou
   for ever and ever. Ought not so great a favour as this, Lord,
   to have come at the end of the prayer? Here, at the very
   beginning, Thou dost fill our hands and grant us so great
   a favour that it would be a very great blessing if our
   understanding could be filled with it so that the will would
   be occupied and we should be unable to say another word. Oh,
   how appropriate, daughters, would perfect contemplation be
   here! Oh, how right would the soul be to enter within itself,
   so as to be the better able to rise above itself, that this
   holy Son might show it the nature of the place where He says
   His Father dwells—namely, the Heavens! Let us leave earth,
   my daughters, for it is not right that a favour like this
   should be prized so little, and that, after we have realized
   how great this favour is, we should remain on earth any
   more.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiii-p2">O Son of God and my Lord! How is it that Thou canst give us so
   much with Thy first word? It is so wonderful that Thou
   shouldst descend to such a degree of humility as to join with
   us when we pray and make Thyself the Brother of creatures so
   miserable and lowly! How can it be that, in the name of Thy
   Father, Thou shouldst give us all that there is to be given,
   by willing Him to have us as His children—and Thy word
   cannot fail? [It seems that] Thou dost oblige Him to fulfil
   Thy word, a charge by no means light, since, being our Father,
   He must bear with us, however great our offences.  If we
   return to Him, He must pardon us, as He pardoned the prodigal
   son, must comfort us in our trials, and must sustain us, as
   such a Father is bound to do, for He must needs be better than
   any earthly father, since nothing good can fail to have its
   perfection in Him.  <em id="i.xxxiii-p2.1">He must cherish us; He must sustain
      us;</em> and at the last He must make us participants and
   fellow-heirs with Thee.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiii-p3">Behold, my Lord, with the love that Thou hast for us and with
   Thy humility, nothing can be an obstacle to Thee. And then,
   Lord, Thou hast been upon earth and by taking our nature upon
   Thee hast clothed Thyself with humanity: Thou hast therefore
   some reason to care for our advantage. But behold, Thy Father
   is in Heaven, as Thou hast told us, and it is right that Thou
   shouldst consider His honour. Since Thou hast offered Thyself
   to be dishonoured by us, leave Thy Father free. Oblige Him not
   to do so much for people as wicked as I, who will make Him
   such poor acknowledgment.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiii-p4">O good Jesus! How clearly hast Thou shown that Thou art One
   with Him and that Thy will is His and His is Thine! How open
   a confession is this, my Lord! What is this love that Thou
   hast for us? Thou didst deceive the devil, and conceal from
   him that Thou art the Son of God, but Thy great desire for our
   welfare overcomes all obstacles to Thy granting us this
   greatest of favours. Who but Thou could do this, Lord?
   I cannot think how the devil failed to understand from that
   word of Thine Who Thou wert, beyond any doubt.  I, at least,
   my Jesus, see clearly that Thou didst speak as a dearly
   beloved son both for Thyself and for us, and Thou hast such
   power that what Thou sayest in Heaven shall be done on earth.
   Blessed be Thou for ever, my Lord, Who lovest so much to give
   that no obstacle can stay Thee.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiii-p5">Do you not think, daughters, that this is a good Master, since
   He begins by granting us this great favour so as to make us
   love to learn what He teaches us? Do you think it would be
   right for us, while we are repeating this prayer with our
   lips, to stop trying to think of what we are saying, lest
   picturing such love should tear our hearts to pieces? No one
   who realized His greatness could possibly say it would be.
   What son is there in the world who would not try to learn who
   his father was if he had one as good, and of as great majesty
   and dominion, as ours? Were God not all this, it would not
   surprise me if we had no desire to be known as His children;
   for the world is such that, if the father is of lower rank
   than his son, the son feels no honour in recognizing him as
   his father. This does not apply here: God forbid that such
   a thing should ever happen in this house—it would turn the
   place into hell. Let the sister who is of the highest birth
   speak of her father least; we must all be equals.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiii-p6">O College of Christ, in which the Lord was pleased that Saint
   Peter, who was a fisherman, should have more authority than
   Saint Bartholomew, who was the son of a king! His Majesty knew
   what a fuss would be made in the world about who was fashioned
   from the finer clay—which is like discussing whether clay
   is better for bricks or for walls. Dear Lord, what a trouble
   we make about it!  God deliver you, sisters, from such
   contentions, even if they be carried on only in jest; I hope
   that His Majesty will indeed deliver you. If anything like
   this should be going on among you, apply the remedy
   immediately, and let the sister concerned fear lest she be
   a Judas among the Apostles. <em id="i.xxxiii-p6.1">Do what you can to get rid of
      such a bad companion. If you cannot</em>, give her penances
   <em id="i.xxxiii-p6.2">heavier than for anything else</em> until she realizes
   that she has not deserved to be even the basest clay. You have
   a good Father, given you by the good Jesus: let no other
   father be known or referred to here. Strive, my daughters, to
   be such that you deserve to find comfort in Him and to throw
   yourselves into His arms. You know that, if you are good
   children, He will never send you away. And who would not do
   anything rather than lose such a Father?</p>

<p id="i.xxxiii-p7">Oh, thank God, what cause for comfort there is here! Rather
   than write more about it I will leave it for you to think
   about; for, however much your thoughts may wander, between
   such a Son and such a Father there must needs be the Holy
   Spirit. May He enkindle your will and bind you to Himself with
   the most fervent love, since even the great advantage you gain
   will not suffice to do so.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="28" title="Describes the nature of the    Prayer of Recollection and sets down some of the means by    which we can make it a habit." shorttitle="Section 28" progress="64.03%" id="i.xxxiv" prev="i.xxxiii" next="i.xxxv">

<h1 id="i.xxxiv-p0.1">CHAPTER 28<br /> Describes the nature of the Prayer of
   Recollection and sets down some of the means by which we can
   make it a habit.</h1>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p1">Consider now what your Master says next: “Who art in the
   Heavens.” Do you suppose it matters little what Heaven is and
   where you must seek your most holy Father? I assure you that
   for minds which wander it is of great importance not only to
   have a right belief about this but to try to learn it by
   experience, for it is one of the best ways of concentrating
   the mind and effecting recollection in the soul.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p2">You know that God is everywhere; and <em id="i.xxxiv-p2.1">this is a great
      truth, for</em>, of course, wherever the king is, or so
   they say, the court is too: that is to say, wherever God is,
   there is Heaven. No doubt you can believe that, in any place
   where His Majesty is, there is fulness of glory. Remember how
   Saint Augustine tells us about his seeking God in many places
   and eventually finding Him within himself. Do you suppose it
   is of little importance that a soul which is often distracted
   should come to understand this truth and to find that, in
   order to speak to its Eternal Father and to take its delight
   in Him, it has no need to go to Heaven or to speak in a loud
   voice? However quietly we speak, He is so near that He will
   hear us: we need no wings to go in search of Him but have only
   to find a place where we can be alone and look upon Him
   present within us. Nor need we feel strange in the presence of
   so kind a Guest; we must talk to Him very humbly, as we should
   to our father, ask Him for things as we should ask a father,
   tell Him our troubles, beg Him to put them right, and yet
   realize that we are not worthy to be called His children.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p3">Avoid being bashful with God, as some people are, in the
   belief that they are being humble. It would not be humility on
   your part if the King were to do you a favour and you refused
   to accept it; but you would be showing humility by taking it,
   and being pleased with it, yet realizing how far you are from
   deserving it. A fine humility it would be if I had the Emperor
   of Heaven and earth in my house, coming to it to do me
   a favour and to delight in my company, and I were so humble
   that I would not answer His questions, nor remain with Him,
   nor accept what He gave me, but left Him alone. Or if He were
   to speak to me and beg me to ask for what I wanted, and I were
   so humble that I preferred to remain poor and even let Him go
   away, so that He would see I had not sufficient
   resolution.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p4">Have nothing to do with that kind of humility, daughters, but
   speak with Him as with a Father, a Brother, a Lord and
   a Spouse—and, sometimes in one way and sometimes in
   another, He will teach you what you must do to please Him. Do
   not be foolish; ask Him to let you speak to Him, and, as He is
   your Spouse, to treat you as His brides. <em id="i.xxxiv-p4.1">Remember how
      important it is for you to have understood this truth—
      that the Lord is within us and that we should be there with
      Him</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p5">If one prays in this way, the prayer may be only vocal, but
   the mind will be recollected much sooner; and this is a prayer
   which brings with it many blessings. It is called recollection
   because the soul collects together all the faculties and
   enters within itself to be with its God. Its Divine Master
   comes more speedily to teach it, and to grant it the Prayer of
   Quiet, than in any other way. For, hidden there within itself,
   it can think about the Passion, and picture the Son, and offer
   Him to the Father, without wearying the mind by going to seek
   Him on Mount Calvary, or in the Garden, or at the Column.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p6">Those who are able to shut themselves up in this way within
   this little Heaven of the soul, wherein dwells the Maker of
   Heaven and earth, and who have formed the habit of looking at
   nothing and staying in no place which will distract these
   outward senses, may be sure that they are walking on an
   excellent road, and will come without fail to drink of the
   water of the fountain, for they will journey a long way in
   a short time. They are like one who travels in a ship, and, if
   he has a little good wind, reaches the end of his voyage in
   a few days, while those who go by land take <em id="i.xxxiv-p6.1">much</em>
   longer.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p7">These souls have already, as we may say, put out to sea;
   though they have not sailed quite out of sight of land, they
   do what they can to get away from it, in the time at their
   disposal, by recollecting their senses. If their recollection
   is genuine, the fact becomes very evident, for it produces
   certain effects which I do not know how to explain but which
   anyone will recognize who has experience of them. It is as if
   the soul were rising from play, for it sees that worldly
   things are nothing but toys; so in due course it rises above
   them, like a person entering a strong castle, in order that it
   may have nothing more to fear from its enemies. It withdraws
   the senses from all outward things and spurns them so
   completely that, without its understanding how, its eyes close
   and it cannot see them and the soul’s spiritual sight becomes
   clear.  Those who walk along this path almost invariably close
   their eyes when they say their prayers; this, for many
   reasons, is an admirable custom, since it means that they are
   making an effort not to look at things of the world. The
   effort has to be made only at the beginning; later it becomes
   unnecessary: eventually, in fact, it would cost a greater
   effort to open the eyes during prayer than to close them. The
   soul seems to gather up its strength and to master itself at
   the expense of the body, which it leaves weakened and alone:
   in this way it becomes stronger for the fight against it.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p8">This may not be evident at first, if the recollection is not
   very profound—for at this stage it is sometimes more so and
   sometimes less. At first it may cause a good deal of trouble,
   for the body insists on its rights, not understanding that if
   it refuses to admit defeat it is, as it were, cutting off its
   own head. But if we cultivate the habit, make the necessary
   effort and practise the exercises for several days, the
   benefits will reveal themselves, and when we begin to pray we
   shall realize that the bees are coming to the hive and
   entering it to make the honey, and all without any effort of
   ours. For it is the Lord’s will that, in return for the time
   which their efforts have cost them, the soul and the will
   should be given this power over the senses. They will only
   have to make a sign to show that they wish to enter into
   recollection and the senses will obey and allow themselves to
   be recollected. Later they may come out again, but it is
   a great thing that they should ever have surrendered, for if
   they come out it is as captives and slaves and they do none of
   the harm that they might have done before. When the will calls
   them afresh they respond more quickly, until, after they have
   entered the soul many times, the Lord is pleased that they
   should remain there altogether in perfect contemplation.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p9">What has been said should be noted with great care, for,
   though it seems obscure, it will be understood by anyone
   desirous of putting it into practice. The sea-voyage, then,
   can be made; and, as it is very important that we should not
   travel too slowly, let us just consider how we can get
   accustomed to these good habits.  Souls who do so are more
   secure from many occasions of sin, and the fire of Divine love
   is the more readily enkindled in them; for they are so near
   that fire that, however little the blaze has been fanned with
   the understanding, any small spark that flies out at them will
   cause them to burst into flame. When no hindrance comes to it
   from outside, the soul remains alone with its God and is
   thoroughly prepared to become enkindled.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p10">And now let us imagine that we have within us a palace of
   priceless worth, built entirely of gold and precious stones—
   a palace, in short, fit for so great a Lord. Imagine that it
   is partly your doing that this palace should be what it is—
   and this is really true, for there is no building so beautiful
   as a soul that is pure and full of virtues, and, the greater
   these virtues are, the more brilliantly do the stones shine.
   Imagine that within the palace dwells this great King, Who has
   vouchsafed to become your Father and Who is seated upon
   a throne of supreme price—namely, your heart.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p11">At first you will think this irrelevant—I mean the use of
   this figure to explain my point—but it may prove very
   useful, especially to persons like yourselves. For, as we
   women are not learned <em id="i.xxxiv-p11.1">or fine-witted</em>, we need all
   these things to help us realize that we actually have
   something within us incomparably more precious than anything
   we see outside. Do not let us suppose that the interior of the
   soul is empty; God grant that only women may be so thoughtless
   as to suppose that. If we took care always to remember what
   a Guest we have within us, I think it would be impossible for
   us to abandon ourselves to <em id="i.xxxiv-p11.2">vanities and</em> things of the
   world, for we should see how worthless they are by comparison
   with those which we have within us. What does an animal do
   beyond satisfying his hunger by seizing whatever attracts him
   when he sees it? There should surely be a great difference
   between the brute beasts and ourselves, <em id="i.xxxiv-p11.3">as we have such
      a Father</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p12">Perhaps you will laugh at me and say that this is obvious
   enough; and you will be right, though it was some time before
   I came to see it. I knew perfectly well that I had a soul, but
   I did not understand what that soul merited, or Who dwelt
   within it, until I closed my eyes to the vanities of this
   world in order to see it. I think, if I had understood then,
   as I do now, how this great King <em id="i.xxxiv-p12.1">really</em> dwells within
   this little palace of my soul, I should not have left Him
   alone so often, but should have stayed with Him and never have
   allowed His dwelling-place to get so dirty. How wonderful it
   is that He Whose greatness could fill a thousand worlds, and
   very many more, should confine Himself within so small
   a space, <em id="i.xxxiv-p12.2">just as He was pleased to dwell within the womb
      of His most holy Mother!</em> Being the Lord, He has, of
   course, perfect freedom, and, as He loves us, He fashions
   Himself to our measure.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p13">When a soul sets out upon this path, He does not reveal
   Himself to it, lest it should feel dismayed at seeing that its
   littleness can contain such greatness; but gradually He
   enlarges it to the extent requisite for what He has to set
   within it. It is for this reason that I say He has perfect
   freedom, since He has power to make the whole of this palace
   great. The important point is that we should be absolutely
   resolved to give it to Him for His own and should empty it so
   that He may take out and put in just what He likes, as He
   would with something of His own. His Majesty is right in
   demanding this; let us not deny it to Him. And, as He refuses
   to force our will, He takes what we give Him but does not give
   Himself wholly until <em id="i.xxxiv-p13.1">He sees that</em> we are giving
   ourselves wholly to Him. This is certain, and, as it is of
   such importance, I often remind you of it. Nor does He work
   within the soul as He does when it is wholly His and keeps
   nothing back. I do not see how He can do so, since He likes
   everything to be done in order. If we fill the palace with
   vulgar people and all kinds of junk, how can the Lord and His
   Court occupy it? When such a crowd is there it would be
   a great thing if He were to remain for even a short time.</p>

<p id="i.xxxiv-p14">Do you suppose, daughters, that He is alone when He comes to
   us?  Do you not see that His <em id="i.xxxiv-p14.1">most holy</em> Son says: “Who
   art in the Heavens”? Surely such a King would not be abandoned
   by His courtiers. They stay with Him and pray to Him on our
   behalf and for our welfare, for they are full of charity. Do
   not imagine that Heaven is like this earth, where, if a lord
   or prelate shows anyone favours, whether for some particular
   reason or simply because he likes him, people at once become
   envious, and, though the poor man has done nothing to them, he
   is maliciously treated, so that his favours cost him dear.</p>

</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="29" title="Continues to describe methods    for achieving this Prayer of Recollection. Says what little    account we should make of being favoured by our superiors." shorttitle="Section 29" progress="66.70%" id="i.xxxv" prev="i.xxxiv" next="i.xxxvi">

<h1 id="i.xxxv-p0.1">CHAPTER 29<br /> Continues to describe methods for achieving
   this Prayer of Recollection. Says what little account we
   should make of being favoured by our superiors.</h1>

<p id="i.xxxv-p1">For the love of God, daughters, avoid making any account of
   these favours. You should each do your duty; and, if this is
   not appreciated by your superior, you may be sure that it will
   be appreciated and rewarded by the Lord. We did not come here
   to seek rewards in this life, <em id="i.xxxv-p1.1">but only in the life to
      come</em>. Let our thoughts always be fixed upon what
   endures, and not trouble themselves with earthly things which
   do not endure even for a lifetime. For to-day some other
   sister will be in your superior’s good books; whereas
   to-morrow, if she sees you exhibiting some additional virtue,
   it is with you that she will be better pleased—and if she
   is not it is of little consequence. Never give way to these
   thoughts, which sometimes begin in a small way but may cost
   you a great deal of unrest. Check them by remembering that
   your kingdom is not of this world, and that everything comes
   quickly to an end, <em id="i.xxxv-p1.2">and that there is nothing in this life
      that goes on unchangingly</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xxxv-p2">But even that is a poor remedy and anything but a perfect one;
   it is best that this state of things should continue, and that
   you should be humbled and out of favour, and should wish to be
   so for the sake of the Lord Who dwells in you. Turn your eyes
   upon yourself and look at yourself inwardly, as I have said.
   You will find your Master; He will not fail you: indeed, the
   less outward comfort you have, the [much] greater the joy He
   will give you. He is full of compassion and never fails those
   who are afflicted and out of favour if they trust in Him
   alone. Thus David tells us <em id="i.xxxv-p2.1">that he never saw the just
      forsaken</em>,<note place="foot" n="99" id="i.xxxv-p2.2">Psalm xxxvi (A.V., xxxvii,
      25).</note> <em id="i.xxxv-p2.3">and again, that</em> the Lord is with the
   afflicted.<note place="foot" n="100" id="i.xxxv-p2.4">Psalm xxxiii 20-1 (A.V., xxxiv,
      19-20).</note> Either you believe this or you do not: if
   you do, as you should, why do you wear yourselves to death
   with worry?</p>

<p id="i.xxxv-p3">O my Lord, if we had a real knowledge of Thee, we should make
   not the slightest account of anything, since Thou givest so
   much to those who will set their whole trust on Thee. Believe
   me, friends, it is a great thing to realize the truth of this
   so that we may see how deceptive are earthly <em id="i.xxxv-p3.1">things
      and</em> favours when they deflect the soul in any way from
   its course and hinder it from entering within itself. <note place="foot" n="101" id="i.xxxv-p3.2"><em id="i.xxxv-p3.3">Lit</em>. “when they deflect the soul in
      any way from going within itself.”</note>God help me! If
   only someone could make you realize this! I myself,
   <em id="i.xxxv-p3.4">Lord</em>, certainly cannot; I know that [in truth] I owe
   <em id="i.xxxv-p3.5">Thee</em> more than anyone else but I cannot realize this
   myself as well as I should.</p>

<p id="i.xxxv-p4">Returning to what I was saying, I should like to be able to
   explain the nature of this holy companionship with our great
   Companion, the Holiest of the holy, in which there is nothing
   to hinder the soul and her Spouse from remaining alone
   together, when the soul desires to enter within herself, to
   shut the door behind her so as to keep out all that is worldly
   and to dwell in that Paradise with her God. I say “desires”,
   because you must understand that this is not a supernatural
   state but depends upon our volition, and that, by God’s
   favour, we can enter it of our own accord: <em id="i.xxxv-p4.1">this condition
      must be understood of everything that we say in this book
      can be done</em>, for without it nothing can be
   accomplished and we have not the power to think a single good
   thought. For this is not a silence of the faculties: it is
   a shutting-up of the faculties within itself by the soul.</p>

<p id="i.xxxv-p5">There are many ways in which we can gradually acquire this
   habit, as various books tell us. We must cast aside everything
   else, they say, in order to approach God inwardly and we must
   retire within ourselves even during our ordinary occupations.
   If I can recall the companionship which I have within my soul
   for as much as a moment, that is of great utility. <em id="i.xxxv-p5.1">But as
      I am speaking only about the way to recite vocal prayers
      well, there is no need for me to say as much as this. All
      I want is that we should know<note place="foot" n="102" id="i.xxxv-p5.2"><em id="i.xxxv-p5.3">Lit</em>.: “see.”</note>and abide with
      the Person with Whom we are speaking, and not turn our
      backs upon Him; for that, it seems to me, is what we are
      doing when we talk to God and yet think of all kinds of
      vanity. The whole mischief comes from our not really
      grasping the fact that He is near us, and imagining Him far
      away—so far, that we shall have to go to Heaven in order
      to find Him.  How is it, Lord, that we do not look at Thy
      face, when it is so near us? We do not think people are
      listening to us when we are speaking to them unless we see
      them looking at us. And do we close our eyes so as not to
      see that Thou art looking at us? How can we know if Thou
      hast heard what we say to Thee?</em></p>

<p id="i.xxxv-p6"><em id="i.xxxv-p6.1">The great thing I should like to teach you is that, in
      order to accustom ourselves gradually to giving our minds
      confidence, so that we may readily understand what we are
      saying, and with Whom we are speaking, we must recollect
      our outward senses, take charge of them ourselves and give
      them something which will occupy them. It is in this way
      that we have Heaven within ourselves since the Lord of
      Heaven is there.</em> If once we accustom ourselves to
   being glad <note place="foot" n="103" id="i.xxxv-p6.2"><em id="i.xxxv-p6.3">Lit</em>.: “once we begin to
      be glad.”</note>that there is no need to raise our voices
   in order to speak to Him, since His Majesty will make us
   conscious that He is there, we shall be able to say the
   Paternoster and whatever other prayers we like with great
   peace of mind, and the Lord Himself will help us not to grow
   tired. Soon after we have begun to force ourselves to remain
   near the Lord, He will give us indications by which we may
   understand that, though we have had to say the Paternoster
   many times, He heard us the first time. For He loves to save
   us worry; and, even though we may take a whole hour over
   saying it once, if we can realize that we are with Him, and
   what it is we are asking Him, and how willing He is, <em id="i.xxxv-p6.4">like
      any father</em>, to grant it to us, and how He loves to be
   with us, <em id="i.xxxv-p6.5">and comfort us</em>, He has no wish for us to
   tire our brains by a great deal of talking.</p>

<p id="i.xxxv-p7"><em id="i.xxxv-p7.1">For love of the Lord, then, sisters, accustom yourselves
      to saying the Paternoster in this recollected way, and
      before long you will see how you gain by doing so. It is
      a method of prayer which establishes habits that prevent
      the soul from going astray and the faculties from becoming
      restless. This you will find out in time: I only beg you to
      test it, even at the cost of a little trouble, which always
      results when we try to form a new habit. I assure you,
      however, that before long you will have the great comfort
      of finding it unnecessary to tire yourselves with seeking
      this holy Father to Whom you pray, for you will discover
      Him within you.</em></p>

<p id="i.xxxv-p8">May the Lord teach this to those of you who do not know it:
   for my own part I must confess that, until the Lord taught me
   this method, I never knew what it was to get satisfaction and
   comfort out of prayer, and it is because I have always gained
   such great benefits from this custom of interior
   recollection<note place="foot" n="104" id="i.xxxv-p8.1"><em id="i.xxxv-p8.2">Lit</em>.: “of recollection
      within me.”</note> that I have written about it at such
   length. <em id="i.xxxv-p8.3">Perhaps you all know this, but some sister may
      come to you who will not know it, so you must not be vexed
      at my having spoken about it here</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xxxv-p9">I conclude by advising anyone who wishes to acquire it (since,
   as I say, it is in our power to do so) not to grow weary of
   trying to get used to the method which has been described, for
   it is equivalent to a gradual gaining of the mastery over
   herself and is not vain labour. To conquer oneself for one’s
   own good is to make use of the senses in the service of the
   interior life. If she is speaking she must try to remember
   that there is One within her to Whom she can speak; if she is
   listening, let her remember that she can listen to Him Who is
   nearer to her than anyone else. Briefly, let her realize that,
   if she likes, she need never withdraw from this good
   companionship, and let her grieve when she has left her Father
   alone for so long though her need of Him is so sore.</p>

<p id="i.xxxv-p10">If she can, let her practise recollection many times daily; if
   not, let her do so occasionally. As she grows accustomed to
   it, she will feel its benefits, either sooner or later. Once
   the Lord has granted it to her, she would not exchange it for
   any treasure.</p>

<p id="i.xxxv-p11">Nothing, sisters, can be learned without a little trouble, so
   do, for the love of God, look upon any care which you take
   about this as well spent. I know that, with God’s help, if you
   practise it for a year, or perhaps for only six months, you
   will be successful in attaining it. Think what a short time
   that is for acquiring so great a benefit, for you will be
   laying a good foundation, so that, if the Lord desires to
   raise you up to achieve great things, He will find you ready,
   because you will be close to Himself. May His Majesty never
   allow us to withdraw ourselves from His presence. Amen.</p>

</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="30" title="Describes the importance of    understanding what we ask for in prayer. Treats of these words    in the Paternoster: 'Sanctificetur nomen tuum, adveniat regnum    tuum.' Applies them to the Prayer of Quiet, and begins the    explanation of them." shorttitle="Section 30" progress="68.71%" id="i.xxxvi" prev="i.xxxv" next="i.xxxvii">

<h1 id="i.xxxvi-p0.1">CHAPTER 30<br /> Describes the importance of understanding
   what we ask for in prayer.  Treats of these words in the
   Paternoster: “Sanctificetur nomen tuum, adveniat regnum tuum.”
   <note place="foot" n="105" id="i.xxxvi-p0.3">“Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom
      come.”</note>Applies them to the Prayer of Quiet, and
   begins the explanation of them.</h1>

<p id="i.xxxvi-p1">We must now come to consider the next petition in our good
   Master’s prayer, in which He begins to entreat His holy Father
   on our behalf, and see what it is that He entreats, as it is
   well that we should know this.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvi-p2">What person, however careless, who had to address someone of
   importance, would not spend time in thinking how to approach
   him so as to please him and not be considered tedious? He
   would also think what he was going to ask for and what use he
   would make of it, especially if his petition were for some
   particular thing, as our good Jesus tells us our petitions
   must be. This point seems to me <em id="i.xxxvi-p2.1">very</em> important.
   Couldst Thou not, my Lord, have ended this prayer in a single
   sentence, by saying: “Give us, Father, whatever is good for
   us”? For, in addressing One Who knows everything, there would
   seem to be no need to say any more.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvi-p3">This would have sufficed, O Eternal Wisdom, as between Thee
   and Thy Father. It was thus that Thou didst address Him in the
   Garden, telling Him of Thy will and Thy fear, but leaving
   Thyself in His hands. But Thou knowest us, my Lord, and Thou
   knowest that we are not as resigned as wert Thou to the will
   of Thy Father; we needed, therefore, to be taught to ask for
   particular things so that we should stop <em id="i.xxxvi-p3.1">for a moment</em>
   to think if what we ask of Thee is good for us, and if it is
   not, should not ask for it. For, being what we are and having
   our free will, if we do not receive what we ask for, we shall
   not accept what the Lord gives us. The gift might be the best
   one possible—but we never think we are rich unless we
   actually see money in our hands.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvi-p4">Oh, God help me! What is it that sends our faith to sleep, so
   that we cannot realize how certain we are, on the one hand, to
   be punished, and, on the other, to be rewarded? It is for this
   reason, daughters, that it is good for you to know what you
   are asking for in the Paternoster, so that, if the Eternal
   Father gives it you, you shall not cast it back in His face.
   You must think carefully if what you are about to ask for will
   be good for you; if it will not, do not ask for it, but ask
   His Majesty to give you light. For we are blind and often we
   have such a loathing for life-giving food that we cannot eat
   it but prefer what will cause us death—and what a death: so
   terrible and eternal!</p>

<p id="i.xxxvi-p5">Now the good Jesus bids us say these words, in which we pray
   that this Kingdom may come in us: “Hallowed be Thy Name, Thy
   Kingdom come in us.” Consider now, daughters, how great is our
   Master’s wisdom. I am thinking here of what we are asking in
   praying for this kingdom, and it is well that we should
   realize this. His Majesty, knowing of how little we are
   capable, saw that, unless He provided for us by giving us His
   Kingdom here on earth, we could neither hallow nor praise nor
   magnify nor glorify <em id="i.xxxvi-p5.1">nor exalt</em> this holy name of the
   Eternal Father in a way befitting it. The good Jesus,
   therefore, places these two petitions next to each other. Let
   us understand this thing that we are asking for, daughters,
   and how important it is that we should pray for it without
   ceasing and do all we can to please Him Who will give it us:
   it is for that reason that I want to tell you what I know
   about the matter now. If you do not like the subject, think
   out some other meditations for yourselves, for our Master will
   allow us to do this, provided we submit in all things to the
   teaching of the [Holy Roman] Church, as I do here. <em id="i.xxxvi-p5.2">In any
      case I shall not give you this book to read until persons
      who understand these matters have seen it: so, if there is
      anything wrong with it, the reason will be, not wickedness,
      but my imperfect knowledge</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvi-p6">To me, then, it seems that, of the many joys to be found in
   the kingdom of Heaven, the chief is that we shall have no more
   to do with the things of earth; for in Heaven we shall have an
   intrinsic tranquillity and glory, a joy in the rejoicings of
   all, a perpetual peace, and a great interior satisfaction
   which will come to us when we see that all are hallowing and
   praising the Lord, and are blessing His name, and that none is
   offending Him. For all love Him there and the soul’s one
   concern is loving Him, nor can it cease from loving Him
   because it knows Him. And this is how we should love Him on
   earth, though we cannot do so with the same perfection nor yet
   all the time; still, if we knew Him, we should love Him very
   differently from the way we do now.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvi-p7">It looks as though I were going to say that we must be angels
   to make this petition and to say our vocal prayers well. This
   would indeed be our Divine Master’s wish, since He bids us
   make so sublime a petition. You may be quite sure that He
   never tells us to ask for impossibilities, so it must be
   possible, with God’s help, for a soul living in that state of
   exile to reach such a point, though not as perfectly as those
   who have been freed from this prison, for we are making
   a sea-voyage and are still on the journey. But there are times
   when we are wearied with travelling and the Lord grants our
   faculties tranquillity and our soul quiet, and while they are
   in that state He gives us a clear understanding of the nature
   of the gifts He bestows upon those whom He brings to His
   Kingdom. Those to whom, while they are still on earth, He
   grants what we are asking Him for receive pledges which will
   give them a great hope of eventually attaining to a perpetual
   enjoyment of what on earth He only allows them to taste.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvi-p8">If it were not that you would tell me I am treating of
   contemplation, it would be appropriate, in writing of this
   petition, to say a little about the beginning of pure
   contemplation, which those who experience it call the Prayer
   of Quiet; but, as I have said, I am discussing vocal prayer
   here, and anyone ignorant of the subject might think that the
   two had nothing to do with one another, though I know this is
   certainly not true.  Forgive my wanting to speak of it, for
   I know there are many people who practise vocal prayer in the
   manner already described and are raised by God to the higher
   kind of contemplation without <em id="i.xxxvi-p8.1">having had any hand in this
      themselves or even</em> knowing how it has happened.
   <em id="i.xxxvi-p8.2">For this reason, daughters, I attach great importance to
      your saying your vocal prayers well</em>. I know a nun who
   could never practise anything but vocal prayer but who kept to
   this and found she had everything else; yet if she omitted
   saying her prayers her mind wandered so much that she could
   not endure it. May we all practise such mental prayer as that.
   She would say a number of Paternosters, corresponding to the
   number of times Our Lord shed His blood, and on nothing more
   than these and a few other prayers she would spend two or
   three hours. She came to me once in great distress, saying
   that she did not know how to practise mental prayer, and that
   she could not contemplate but could only say vocal prayers.
   <em id="i.xxxvi-p8.3">She was quite an old woman and had lived an extremely good
      and religious life.</em> I asked her what prayers she said,
   and <em id="i.xxxvi-p8.4">from her reply</em> I saw that, though keeping to the
   Paternoster, she was experiencing pure contemplation, and the
   Lord was raising her to be with Him in union. She spent her
   life so well, too, that her actions made it clear she was
   receiving great favours. So I praised the Lord and envied her
   her vocal prayer. If this story is true—and it is—none
   of you who have had a bad opinion of contemplatives can
   suppose that you will be free from the risk of becoming like
   them if you say your vocal prayers as they should be said and
   keep a pure conscience. <em id="i.xxxvi-p8.5">I shall have to say still more
      about this.  Anyone not wishing to hear it may pass it
      over</em>.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="31" title="Continues the same subject.    Explains what is meant by the Prayer of Quiet. Gives several    counsels to those who experience it. This chapter is very    noteworthy." shorttitle="Section 31" progress="70.47%" id="i.xxxvii" prev="i.xxxvi" next="i.xxxviii">

<h1 id="i.xxxvii-p0.1">CHAPTER 31<br /> Continues the same subject. Explains what is
   meant by the Prayer of Quiet. Gives several counsels to those
   who experience it. This chapter is very noteworthy.</h1>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p1">Now, daughters, I still want to describe this Prayer of Quiet
   to you, in the way I have heard it talked about, and as the
   Lord has been pleased to teach it to me, perhaps in order that
   I might describe it to you. It is in this kind of prayer, as
   I have said, that the Lord seems to me to begin to show us
   that He is hearing our petition: He begins to give us His
   Kingdom on earth so that we may truly praise Him and hallow
   His name and strive to make others do so likewise.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p2">This is a supernatural state, and, however hard we try, we
   cannot reach it for ourselves; for it is a state in which the
   soul enters into peace, or rather in which the Lord gives it
   peace through His presence, as He did to that just man
   Simeon.<note place="foot" n="106" id="i.xxxvii-p2.1">The allusion is, of course, to St.
      Luke ii, 25 (“just and devout”), 29.</note> In this state
   all the faculties are stilled. The soul, in a way which has
   nothing to do with the outward senses, realizes that it is now
   very close to its God, and that, if it were but a little
   closer, it would become one with Him through union. This is
   not because it sees Him either with its bodily or with its
   spiritual eyes. The just man Simeon saw no more than the
   glorious Infant—a poor little Child, Who, to judge from the
   swaddling-clothes in which He was wrapped and from the small
   number of the people whom He had <em id="i.xxxvii-p2.2">as a retinue</em> to take
   Him up to the Temple, might well have been the son of these
   poor people rather than the Son of his Heavenly Father. But
   the Child Himself revealed to him Who He was. Just so, though
   less clearly, does the soul know Who He is. It cannot
   understand how it knows Him, yet it sees that it is in the
   Kingdom (or at least is near to the King Who will give it the
   Kingdom), and it feels such reverence that it dares to ask
   nothing.  It is, as it were, in a swoon, both inwardly and
   outwardly, so that the outward man (let me call it the “body”,
   and then you will understand me better) does not wish to move,
   but rests, like one who has almost reached the end of his
   journey, so that it may the better start again upon its way,
   with redoubled strength for its task.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p3">The body experiences the greatest delight and the soul is
   conscious of a deep satisfaction. So glad is it merely to find
   itself near the fountain that, even before it has begun to
   drink, it has had its fill. There seems nothing left for it to
   desire. The faculties are stilled and have no wish to move,
   for any movement they may make appears to hinder the soul from
   loving God. They are not completely lost, however, since, two
   of them being free, they can realize in Whose Presence they
   are. It is the will that is in captivity now; and, if while in
   this state it is capable of experiencing any pain, the pain
   comes when it realizes that it will have to resume its
   liberty. The mind tries to occupy itself with only one thing,
   and the memory has no desire to busy itself with more: they
   both see that this is the one thing needful and that anything
   else will unsettle them. Persons in this state prefer the body
   to remain motionless, for otherwise their peace would be
   destroyed: for this reason they dare not stir. Speaking is
   a distress to them: they will spend a whole hour on a single
   repetition of the Paternoster. They are so close to God that
   they know they can make themselves understood by signs. They
   are in the palace, near to their King, and they see that He is
   already beginning to give them His Kingdom on earth.
   <em id="i.xxxvii-p3.1">Sometimes tears come to their eyes, but they weep very
      gently and quite without distress: their whole desire is
      the hallowing of this name</em>.  They seem not to be in
   the world, and have no wish to see or hear anything but their
   God; nothing distresses them, nor does it seem that anything
   can possibly do so. In short, for as long as this state lasts,
   they are so overwhelmed and absorbed by the joy and delight
   which they experience that they can think of nothing else to
   wish for, and will gladly say with Saint Peter: “Lord, let us
   make here three mansions.”<note place="foot" n="107" id="i.xxxvii-p3.2"><em id="i.xxxvii-p3.3">Moradas</em>.
      The “three tabernacles” of St.  Matthew xvii, 4.</note></p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p4">Occasionally, during this Prayer of Quiet, God grants the soul
   another favour which is hard to understand if one has not had
   long experience of it. But any of you who have had this will
   at once recognize it and it will give you great comfort to
   know what it is.  I believe God often grants this favour
   together with the other.  When this quiet is felt in a high
   degree and lasts for a long time, I do not think that, if the
   will were not made fast to something, the peace could be of
   such long duration. Sometimes it goes on for a day, or for two
   days, and we find ourselves—I mean those who experience
   this state—full of this joy without understanding the
   reason. They see clearly that their whole self is not in what
   they are doing, but that the most important faculty is absent
—namely, the will, which I think is united with its God—
   and that the other faculties are left free to busy themselves
   with His service.  For this they have much more capacity at
   such a time, though when attending to worldly affairs they are
   dull and sometimes stupid.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p5">It is a great favour which the Lord grants to these souls, for
   it unites the active life with the contemplative. At such
   times they serve the Lord in both these ways at once; the
   will, while in contemplation, is working without knowing how
   it does so; the other two faculties are serving Him as Martha
   did. Thus Martha and Mary work together. I know someone to
   whom the Lord often granted this favour; she could not
   understand it and asked a great contemplative <note place="foot" n="108" id="i.xxxvii-p5.1">In the margin of T. the author adds, in her
      own hand, that this contemplative was St. Francis Borgia,
      Duke of Gandía. No doubt, then, the other person referred
      to was St. Teresa herself.  The addition reads: “who was
      a religious of the Company of Jesus, who had been Duke of
      Gandía,” and to this are added some words, also in St.
      Teresa’s hand, but partially scored out and partially cut
      by the binder, which seem to be: “who knew it well by
      experience.”</note>about it, he told her that what she
   described was quite possible and had happened to himself.
   I think, therefore, that as the soul experiences such
   satisfaction in this Prayer of Quiet the will must be almost
   continuously united with Him Who alone can give it
   happiness.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p6">I think it will be well, sisters, if I give some advice here
   to any of you whom the Lord, out of His goodness alone, has
   brought to this state, as I know that this has happened to
   some of you. First of all, when such persons experience this
   joy, without knowing whence it has come to them, but knowing
   at least that they could not have achieved it of themselves,
   they are tempted to imagine that they can prolong it and they
   may even try not to breathe. This is ridiculous: we can no
   more control this prayer than we can make the day break, or
   stop night from falling; it is supernatural and something we
   cannot acquire. The most we can do to prolong this favour is
   to realize that we can neither diminish nor add to it, but,
   being most unworthy and undeserving of it, can only receive it
   with thanksgiving. And we can best give thanks, not with many
   words, but by lifting up our eyes, like the publican.<note place="foot" n="109" id="i.xxxvii-p6.1">St. Luke xviii, 13. St. Teresa apparently
      forgot that the publican “would not so much as lift his
      eyes towards heaven”.</note></p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p7">It is well to seek greater solitude so as to make room for the
   Lord and allow His Majesty to do His own work in us. The most
   we should do is occasionally, and quite gently, to utter
   a single word, like a person giving a little puff to a candle,
   when he sees it has almost gone out, so as to make it burn
   again; though, if it were fully alight, I suppose the only
   result of blowing it would be to put it out. I think the puff
   should be a gentle one because, if we begin to tax our brains
   by making up long speeches, the will may become active
   again.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p8">Note carefully, friends, this piece of advice which I want to
   give you now. You will often find that these other two
   faculties are of no help to you. It may come about that the
   soul is enjoying the highest degree of quiet, and that the
   understanding has soared so far aloft that what is happening
   to it seems not to be going on in its own house at all; it
   <em id="i.xxxvii-p8.1">really</em> seems to be a guest in somebody else’s house,
   looking for other lodgings, since its own lodging no longer
   satisfies it and it cannot remain there for long together.
   Perhaps this is only my own experience and other people do not
   find it so. But, speaking for myself, I sometimes long to die
   because I cannot cure this wandering of the mind. At other
   times the mind seems to be settled in its own abode and to be
   remaining there with the will as its companion. When all three
   faculties work together it is wonderful. The harmony is like
   that between husband and wife: if they are happy and love each
   other, both desire the same thing; but if the husband is
   unhappy in his marriage he soon begins to make the wife
   restless. Just so, when the will finds itself in this state of
   quiet, it must take no more notice of the understanding than
   it would of a madman, for, if it tries to draw the
   understanding along with it, it is bound to grow preoccupied
   and restless, with the result that this state of prayer will
   be all effort and no gain and the soul will lose what God has
   been giving it without any effort of its own.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p9">Pay great attention to the following comparison, which <em id="i.xxxvii-p9.1">the
      Lord suggested to me when I was in this state of prayer,
      and which</em> seems to me very appropriate. The soul is
   like an infant still at its mother’s breast: such is the
   mother’s care for it that she gives it its milk without its
   having to ask for it so much as by moving its lips. That is
   what happens here. The will simply loves, and no effort needs
   to be made by the understanding, for it is the Lord’s pleasure
   that, without exercising its thought, the soul should realize
   that it is in His company, and should merely drink the milk
   which His Majesty puts into its mouth and enjoy its sweetness.
   The Lord desires it to know that it is He Who is granting it
   that favour and that in its enjoyment of it He too rejoices.
   But it is not His will that the soul should try to understand
   how it is enjoying it, or what it is enjoying; it should lose
   all thought of itself, and He Who is at its side will not fail
   to see what is best for it. If it begins to strive with its
   mind so that the mind may be apprised of what is happening and
   thus induced to share in it, <note place="foot" n="110" id="i.xxxvii-p9.2"><em id="i.xxxvii-p9.3">Lit</em>.:
      “and drawn along with it”; the same phrase is found at the
      end of the preceding paragraph.</note>it will be quite
   unable to do so, and the soul will perforce lose the milk
   <note place="foot" n="111" id="i.xxxvii-p9.4"><em id="i.xxxvii-p9.5">Lit</em>. “let the milk fall out of its
      mouth.”</note>and forgo that Divine sustenance.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p10">This state of prayer is different from that in which the soul
   is wholly united with God, for in the latter state it does not
   even swallow its nourishment: the Lord places this within it,
   and it has no idea how. But in this state it even seems to be
   His will that the soul should work a little, though so quietly
   that it is hardly conscious of doing so. What disturbs it is
   the understanding and this is not the case when there is union
   of all the three faculties, since He Who created them suspends
   them: He keeps them occupied with the enjoyment that He has
   given them, without their knowing, or being able to
   understand, the reason. <em id="i.xxxvii-p10.1">Anyone who has had experience of
      this kind of prayer will understand quite well what I am
      saying if, after reading this, she considers it carefully,
      and thinks out its meaning: otherwise it will be Greek<note place="foot" n="112" id="i.xxxvii-p10.2"><em id="i.xxxvii-p10.3">Algarabía</em>. Cf. n. 96
         above.</note>to her</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p11">Well, as I say, the soul is conscious of having reached this
   state of prayer, which is a quiet, deep and Peaceful happiness
   of the will, without being able to decide precisely what it
   is, although it can clearly see how it differs from the
   happiness of the world. To have dominion over the whole world,
   with all its happiness, would not suffice to bring the soul
   such inward satisfaction as it enjoys now in the depths of its
   will. For other kinds of happiness in life, it seems to me,
   touch only the outward part of the will, which we might
   describe as its rind.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p12">When one of you finds herself in this sublime state of prayer,
   which, as I have already said, is most markedly supernatural,
   and the understanding (or, to put it more clearly, the
   thought) wanders off after the most ridiculous things in the
   world, she should laugh at it and treat it as the silly thing
   it is, and remain in her state of quiet. For thoughts will
   come and go, but the will is mistress and all-powerful, and
   will recall them without your having to trouble about it. But
   if you try to drag the understanding back by force, you lose
   your power over it, which comes from your taking and receiving
   that Divine sustenance, and neither will nor understanding
   will gain,<note place="foot" n="113" id="i.xxxvii-p12.1"><em id="i.xxxvii-p12.2">Lit</em>.: “neither the one
      nor the other will gain.”</note> but both will be losers.
   There is a saying that, if we try very hard to grasp all, we
   lose all; and so I think it is here. Experience will show you
   the truth of this; and I shall not be surprised if those of
   you who have none think this very obscure and unnecessary.
   But, as I have said, if you have only a little experience of
   it you will understand it and be able to profit by it, and you
   will praise the Lord for being pleased to enable me to explain
   it.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p13">Let us now conclude by saying that, when the soul is brought
   to this state of prayer, it would seem that the Eternal Father
   has already granted its petition that He will give it His
   Kingdom on earth. O blessed request, in which we ask for so
   great a good without knowing what we do! Blessed manner of
   asking! It is for this reason, sisters, that I want us to be
   careful how we say this prayer, the Paternoster, and all other
   vocal prayers, <em id="i.xxxvii-p13.1">and what we ask for in them</em>. For
   <em id="i.xxxvii-p13.2">clearly</em>, when God has shown us this favour, we shall
   have to forget worldly things, all of which the Lord of the
   world has come and cast out. I do not mean that everyone who
   experiences the Prayer of Quiet must perforce be detached from
   everything in the world; but at least I should like all such
   persons to know what they lack and to humble themselves
   <em id="i.xxxvii-p13.3">and not to make so great a petition as though they were
      asking for nothing, and, if the Lord gives them what they
      ask for, to throw it back in His face</em>. They must try
   to become more and more detached from everything, for
   otherwise they will only remain where they are. If God gives
   a soul such pledges, it is a sign that He has great things in
   store for it. It will be its own fault if it does not make
   great progress. But if He sees that, after He has brought the
   Kingdom of Heaven into its abode, it returns to earth, not
   only will He refrain from showing it the secrets of His
   Kingdom but He will grant it this other favour only for short
   periods and rarely.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p14">I may be mistaken about this, but I have seen it and know that
   it happens, and, for my own part, I believe this is why
   spiritual people are not much more numerous. They do not
   respond to so great a favour in a practical way: instead of
   preparing themselves to receive this favour again, they take
   back from the Lord’s hands the will which He considered His
   own and centre it upon base things. So He seeks out others who
   love Him in order to grant them His greater gifts, although He
   will not take away all that He has given from those who live
   in purity of conscience. But there are persons—and I have
   been one of them—to whom the Lord gives tenderness of
   devotion and holy inspirations and light on everything. He
   bestows this Kingdom on them and brings them to this Prayer of
   Quiet, and yet they deafen their ears to His voice. For they
   are so fond of talking and of repeating a large number of
   vocal prayers in a great hurry, as though they were anxious to
   finish their task of repeating them daily, that when the Lord,
   as I say, puts His Kingdom into their very hands, <em id="i.xxxvii-p14.1">by
      giving them this Prayer of Quiet and this inward
      peace</em>, they do not accept it, but think that they will
   do better to go on reciting their prayers, which only distract
   them from their purpose.</p>

<p id="i.xxxvii-p15">Do not be like that, sisters, but be watchful when the Lord
   grants you this favour. Think what a great treasure you may be
   losing and realize that you are doing much more by
   occasionally repeating a single petition of the Paternoster
   than by repeating the whole of it many times in a hurry
   <em id="i.xxxvii-p15.1">and not thinking what you are saying</em>. He to Whom you
   are praying is very near to you and will not fail to hear you;
   and you may be sure that you are truly praising Him and
   hallowing His name, since you are glorifying the Lord as
   a member of His household and praising Him with increasing
   affection and desire so that it seems you can never forsake
   His service. <em id="i.xxxvii-p15.2">So I advise you to be very cautious about
      this, for it is of the greatest importance</em>.</p>

</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="32" title="Expounds these words of the    Paternoster: 'Fiat voluntas tua sicut in coelo et in terra.'    Describes how much is accomplished by those who repeat these    words with full resolution and how well the Lord rewards them    for it." shorttitle="Section 32" progress="74.27%" id="i.xxxviii" prev="i.xxxvii" next="i.xxxix">

<h1 id="i.xxxviii-p0.1">CHAPTER 32<br /> Expounds these words of the Paternoster:
   “Fiat voluntas tua sicut in coelo et in terra.”<note place="foot" n="114" id="i.xxxviii-p0.3">“Thy will be done: as in Heaven, so on
      earth.”</note> Describes how much is accomplished by those
   who repeat these words with full resolution and how well the
   Lord rewards them for it.</h1>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p1">Now that our good Master has asked on our behalf, and has
   taught us ourselves to ask, for a thing so precious that it
   includes all we can desire on earth, and has granted us the
   great favour of making us His brethren, let us see what He
   desires us to give to His Father, and what He offers Him on
   our behalf, and what He asks of us, for it is right that we
   should render Him some service in return for such great
   favours. O good Jesus! Since Thou givest so little (little,
   that is to say, on our behalf) how canst Thou ask [so much]
   for us? What we give is in itself nothing at all by comparison
   with all that has been given us and with the greatness of Our
   Lord. But in truth, my Lord, Thou dost not leave us with
   nothing to give and we give all that we can—I mean if we
   give in the spirit of these words: “Thy will be done; as in
   Heaven, so on earth.”</p>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p2">Thou didst well, O our good Master, to make this last
   petition, so that we may be able to accomplish what Thou dost
   promise in our name. For truly, Lord, hadst Thou not done
   this, I do not think it would have been possible <em id="i.xxxviii-p2.1">for us to
      accomplish it</em>. But, since Thy Father does what Thou
   askest Him in granting us His Kingdom on earth, I know that we
   can truly fulfil Thy word by giving what Thou dost promise in
   our name. For since my earth has now become Heaven, it will be
   possible for Thy will to be done in me. Otherwise, on an earth
   so wretched as mine, and so barren of fruit, I know not, Lord,
   how it could be possible. It is a great thing that Thou dost
   offer.</p>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p3">When I think of this, it amuses me that there should be people
   who dare not ask the Lord for trials, thinking that His
   sending them to them depends upon their asking for them! I am
   not referring to those who omit to ask for them out of
   humility because they think themselves to be incapable of
   bearing them, though for my own part I believe that He who
   gives them love enough to ask for such a stern method of
   proving it will give them love enough to endure it.  I should
   like to ask those who are afraid to pray for trials lest they
   should at once be given them what they mean when they beg the
   Lord to fulfil His will in them. Do they say this because
   everyone else says it and not because they want it to be done?
   That would not be right, sisters. Remember that the good Jesus
   is our Ambassador here, and that His desire has been to
   mediate between us and His Father at no small cost to Himself:
   it would not be right for us to refuse to give what He
   <em id="i.xxxviii-p3.1">promises and</em> offers on our behalf or to say nothing
   about it. Let me put it in another way. Consider, daughters,
   that, whether we wish it or no, God’s will must be done, and
   must be done both in Heaven and on earth.  Believe me, then,
   do as I suggest and make a virtue of necessity.</p>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p4">O my Lord, what a great comfort it is to me that Thou didst
   not entrust the fulfilment of Thy will to one so wretched as
   I! Blessed be Thou for ever and let all things praise Thee.
   May Thy name be for ever glorified. I should indeed have had
   to be good, Lord, if the fulfilment or non-fulfilment of Thy
   will [in Heaven and on earth] were in my hands. But as it is,
   though my will is not yet free from self-interest, I give it
   to Thee freely. For I have proved, by long experience, how
   much I gain by leaving it freely in Thy hands. O friends, what
   a great gain is this—and how much we lose through not
   fulfilling our promises to the Lord in the Paternoster, and
   giving Him what we offer Him!</p>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p5">Before I tell you in what this gain consists, I will explain
   to you how much you are offering, lest later you should
   exclaim that you had been deceived and had not understood what
   you were saying.  Do not behave like some religious among us,
   who do nothing but promise, and then excuse ourselves for not
   fulfilling our promises by saying that we had not understood
   what we were promising. That may well be true, <em id="i.xxxviii-p5.1">for it is
      easy to say things and hard to put them into practice, and
      anyone who thought that there was no more in the one than
      in the other certainly did not understand</em>. It seems
   very easy to say that we will surrender our will to someone,
   until we try it and realize that it is the hardest thing we
   can do if we carry it out as we should. Our superiors do not
   always treat us strictly when they see we are weak; and
   sometimes they treat both weak and strong in the same way.
   That is not so with the Lord; He knows what each of us can
   bear, and, when He sees that one of us is strong, He does not
   hesitate to fulfil His will in him.</p>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p6"><em id="i.xxxviii-p6.1">So I want you to realize with Whom (as they say) you are
      dealing and what the good Jesus offers on your behalf to
      the Father, and what you are giving Him when you pray that
      His will may be done in you: it is nothing else than this
      that you are praying for</em>. Do not fear that He will
   give you riches or pleasures or <em id="i.xxxviii-p6.2">great</em> honours or any
   such earthly things; His love for you is not so poor as that.
   And He sets a very high value on what you give Him and desires
   to recompense you for it since He gives you His Kingdom while
   you are still alive. Would you like to see how He treats those
   who make this prayer from their hearts? Ask His glorious Son,
   Who made it thus in the Garden. Think with what resolution and
   fullness of desire He prayed; and consider if the will of God
   was not perfectly fulfilled in Him through the trials,
   sufferings, insults and persecutions which He gave Him, until
   at last His life ended with death on a Cross.</p>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p7">So you see, daughters, what God gave to His best Beloved, and
   from that you can understand what His will is. These, then,
   are His gifts in this world. He gives them in proportion to
   the love which He bears us. He gives more to those whom He
   loves most, and less to those He loves least; and He gives in
   accordance with the courage which He sees that each of us has
   and the love we bear to His Majesty. When He sees a soul who
   loves Him greatly, He knows that soul can suffer much for Him,
   whereas one who loves Him little will suffer little. For my
   own part, I believe that love is the measure of our ability to
   bear crosses, whether great or small. So if you have this
   love, sisters, try not to let the prayers you make to so great
   a Lord be words of mere politeness but brace yourselves to
   suffer what His Majesty desires. For if you give Him your will
   in any other way, you are just showing Him a jewel, making as
   if to give it to Him and begging Him to take it, and then,
   when He puts out His hand to do so, taking it back and holding
   on to it tightly.</p>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p8">Such mockery is no fit treatment for One who endured so much
   for us. If for no other reason than this, it would not be
   right to mock Him so often—and it is by no means seldom
   that we say these words to Him in the Paternoster. Let us give
   Him once and for all the jewel which we have so often
   undertaken to give Him. For the truth is that He gives it to
   us first so that we may give it back to Him. <em id="i.xxxviii-p8.1">Ah, my God!
      How well Jesus knows us and how much He thinks of our good!
      He did not say we must surrender our wills to the Lord
      until we had been well paid for this small service. It will
      be realized from this how much the Lord intends us to gain
      by rendering it to Him: even in this life He begins to
      reward us for this, as I shall presently explain</em>.
   Worldly people will do a great deal if they sincerely resolve
   to fulfil the will of God. But you, daughters, must both say
   and act, and give Him both words and deeds, as I really think
   we religious do. Yet sometimes not only do we undertake to
   give God the jewel but we even put it into His hand and then
   take it back again. We are so generous all of a sudden, and
   then we become so mean, that it would have been better if we
   had stopped to think before giving.</p>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p9">The aim of all my advice to you in this book is that we should
   surrender ourselves wholly to the Creator, place our will in
   His hands and detach ourselves from the creatures. As you will
   already have understood how important this is, I will say no
   more about it, but I will tell you why our good Master puts
   these words here. He knows how much we shall gain by rendering
   this service to His Eternal Father. We are preparing ourselves
   for the time, which will come very soon, when we shall find
   ourselves at the end of our journey and shall be drinking of
   living water from the fountain I have described. Unless we
   make a total surrender of our will to the Lord, <em id="i.xxxviii-p9.1">and put
      ourselves in His hands</em> so that He may do in all things
   what is best for us in accordance with His will, He will never
   allow us to drink of it. This is the perfect contemplation of
   which you asked me to write to you.</p>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p10">In this matter, as I have already said, we can do nothing of
   ourselves, either by working hard or by making plans, nor is
   it needful that we should. For everything else hinders and
   prevents us from saying [with real resolution], “Fiat voluntas
   tua”: that is, may the Lord fulfil His will in me, in every
   way and manner which Thou, my Lord, desirest. If Thou wilt do
   this by means of trials, give me strength and let them come.
   If by means of persecutions and sickness and dishonour and
   need, here I am, my Father, I will not turn my face away from
   Thee nor have I the right to turn my back upon them. For Thy
   Son gave Thee this will of mine in the name of us all and it
   is not right that I for my part should fail. Do Thou grant me
   the grace of bestowing on me Thy Kingdom so that I may do Thy
   will, since He has asked this of me. Dispose of me as of that
   which is Thine own, in accordance with Thy will.</p>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p11">Oh, my sisters, what power this gift has! If it be made with
   due resolution, it cannot fail to draw the Almighty to become
   one with our lowliness and to transform us into Himself and to
   effect a union between the Creator and the creature. Ask
   yourselves if that will not be a rich reward for you, and if
   you have not a good Master. For, knowing how the good will of
   His Father is to be gained, He teaches us how and by what
   means we must serve Him.</p>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p12">The more <em id="i.xxxviii-p12.1">resolute we are in soul and the more</em> we show
   Him by our actions that the words we use to Him are not words
   of mere politeness, the more and more does Our Lord draw us to
   Himself and raise us above all <em id="i.xxxviii-p12.2">petty</em> earthly things,
   and above ourselves, in order to prepare us to receive great
   favours <em id="i.xxxviii-p12.3">from Him</em>, for His rewards for our service
   will not end with this life. So much does He value this
   service of ours that we do not know for what more we can ask,
   while His Majesty never wearies of giving. Not content with
   having made this soul one with Himself, through uniting it to
   Himself, He begins to cherish it, to reveal secrets to it, to
   rejoice in its understanding of what it has gained and in the
   knowledge which it has of all He has yet to give it. He causes
   it gradually to lose its exterior senses so that nothing may
   occupy it. This we call rapture. He begins to make such
   a friend of the soul that not only does He restore its will to
   it but He gives it His own also. For, now that He is making
   a friend of it, He is glad to allow it to rule with Him, as we
   say, turn and turn about. So He does what the soul asks of
   Him, just as the soul does what He commands, only in a much
   better way, since He is all-powerful and can do whatever He
   desires, and His desire never comes to an end.</p>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p13">But the poor soul, despite its desires, is <em id="i.xxxviii-p13.1">often</em>
   unable to do all it would like, nor can it do anything at all
   unless it is given the power. <note place="foot" n="115" id="i.xxxviii-p13.2"><em id="i.xxxviii-p13.3">Lit</em>.
      “given it.”</note>And so it grows richer and richer; and
   the more it serves, the greater becomes its debt; and often,
   growing weary of finding itself subjected to all the
   inconveniences and impediments and bonds which it has to
   endure while it is in the prison of this body, it would gladly
   pay something of what it owes, for it is quite worn out. But
   even if we do all that is in us, how can we repay God, since,
   as I say, we have nothing to give save what we have first
   received? We can only learn to know ourselves and do what we
   can—namely, surrender our will and fulfil God’s will in us.
   Anything else must be a hindrance to the soul which the Lord
   has brought to this state. It causes it, not profit, but harm,
   for nothing but humility is of any use here, and this is not
   acquired by the understanding but by a clear perception of the
   truth, which comprehends in one moment what could not be
   attained over a long period by the labour of the imagination
—namely, that we are nothing and that God is infinitely
   great.</p>

<p id="i.xxxviii-p14">I will give you one piece of advice: do not suppose that you
   can reach this state by your own effort or diligence; that
   would be too much to expect. On the contrary, you would turn
   what devotion you had quite cold. You must practise simplicity
   and humility, for those are the virtues which achieve
   everything. You must say: “Fiat voluntas tua.”</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="33" title="Treats of our great need that    the Lord should give us what we ask in these words of the    Paternoster: 'Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie.'" shorttitle="Section 33" progress="77.18%" id="i.xxxix" prev="i.xxxviii" next="i.xl">

<h1 id="i.xxxix-p0.1">CHAPTER 33<br /> Treats of our great need that the Lord should
   give us what we ask in these words of the Paternoster: “Panem
   nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie.”<note place="foot" n="116" id="i.xxxix-p0.3">“Give
      us this day our daily bread.”</note></h1>

<p id="i.xxxix-p1">The good Jesus understands, as I have said, how difficult
   a thing He is offering on our behalf, for He knows our
   weakness, and how often we show that we do not understand what
   the will of the Lord is, since we are weak while He is so
   merciful. He knows that some means must be found by which we
   shall not omit to give what He has given on our behalf, for if
   we did that it would be anything but good for us, since
   everything we gain comes from what we give.  Yet He knows that
   it will be difficult for us to carry this out; for if anyone
   were to tell some wealthy, pampered person that it is God’s
   will for him to moderate his eating so that others, who are
   dying of hunger, shall have at least bread to eat, he will
   discover a thousand reasons for not understanding this but
   interpreting it in his own way. If one tells a person who
   speaks ill of others that it is God’s will that he should love
   his neighbour as himself, <note place="foot" n="117" id="i.xxxix-p1.1"><em id="i.xxxix-p1.2">Lit</em>.:
      “should want as much <em id="i.xxxix-p1.3">for himself as for his neighbour,
         and</em> for his neighbour as for himself.” The
      italicized phrase is found in E. only.</note>he will lose
   patience and no amount of reasoning will convince him. If one
   tells a religious who is accustomed to liberty and indulgence
   that he must be careful to set a good example and to remember
   that when he makes this petition it is his duty to keep what
   he has sworn and promised, and that not in word alone; that it
   is the will of God that he should fulfil his vows and see that
   he gives no occasion for scandal by acting contrarily to them,
   even though he may not actually break them; that he has taken
   the vow of poverty and must keep it without evasions, because
   that is the Lord’s will—it would be impossible, in spite of
   all this, that some religious should not still want their own
   way. What would be the case, then, if the Lord had not done
   most of what was necessary by means of the remedy He has given
   us? There would have been very few who could have fulfilled
   this petition, which the Lord made to the Father on our
   behalf: “Fiat voluntas tua.” Seeing our need, therefore, the
   good Jesus has sought the admirable means whereby He has shown
   us the extreme love which He has for us, and in His own name
   and in that of His brethren He has made this petition: “Give
   us, Lord, this day our daily bread.”</p>

<p id="i.xxxix-p2">For the love of God, sisters, let us realize the meaning of
   our good Master’s petition, for our very life depends on our
   not disregarding it. Set very little store by what you have
   given, since there is so much that you will receive. It seems
   to me, in the absence of a better opinion, that the good Jesus
   knew what He had given for us and how important it was for us
   to give this to God, and yet how difficult it would be for us
   to do so, as has been said, because of our natural inclination
   to base things and our want of love and courage. He saw that,
   before we could be aroused, we needed His aid, not once but
   every day, and it must have been for this reason that He
   resolved to remain with us. As this was so weighty and
   important a matter, He wished it to come from the hand of the
   Eternal Father. Though both Father and Son are one and the
   same, and He knew that whatever He did on earth God would do
   in Heaven, and would consider it good, since His will and the
   Father’s will were one, yet the humility of the good Jesus was
   such that He wanted, as it were, to ask leave of His Father,
   for He knew that He was His beloved Son and that He was well
   pleased with Him. He knew quite well that in this petition He
   was asking for more than He had asked for in the others, but
   He already knew what death He was to suffer and what
   dishonours and affronts He would have to bear.</p>

<p id="i.xxxix-p3">What father could there be, Lord, who, after giving us his
   son, and such a Son, would allow Him to remain among us day by
   day to suffer as He had done already? None, Lord, in truth,
   but Thine: well dost Thou know of Whom Thou art asking this.
   God help me! What a great love is that of the Son and what
   a great love is that of the Father! I am not so much amazed at
   the good Jesus, because, as He had already said “Fiat voluntas
   tua”, He was bound, being Who He is, to put what He had said
   into practice. Yes, for He is not like us; knowing that He was
   carrying out His words by loving us as He loves Himself, He
   went about seeking how He could carry out this commandment
   more perfectly, even at His own cost. But how, Eternal Father,
   couldst Thou consent to this? How canst Thou see Thy Son every
   day in such wicked hands? Since first Thou didst permit it and
   consent to it, Thou seest how He has been treated. How can Thy
   Mercy, day by day and every day, <note place="foot" n="118" id="i.xxxix-p3.1"><em id="i.xxxix-p3.2">Lit</em>.: “each day, each day.”</note>see
   Him affronted? And how many affronts are being offered to-day
   to this Most Holy Sacrament? How often must the Father see Him
   in the hands of His enemies? What desecrations these heretics
   commit!</p>

<p id="i.xxxix-p4">O Eternal Lord! How canst Thou grant such a petition? How
   canst Thou consent to it? Consider not His love, which, for
   the sake of fulfilling Thy will and of helping us, would allow
   Him to submit day by day to being cut to pieces. It is for
   Thee to see to this, my Lord, since Thy Son allows no obstacle
   to stand in His way. Why must all the blessings that we
   receive be at His cost? How is it that He is silent in face of
   all, and cannot speak for Himself, but only for us? Is there
   none who will speak for this most loving Lamb? <em id="i.xxxix-p4.1">Give me
      permission to speak for Him, Lord, since Thou hast been
      pleased to leave Him in our power, and let me beseech Thee
      on His behalf, since He gave Thee such full obedience and
      surrendered Himself to us with such great love</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xxxix-p5">I have been reflecting how in this petition alone the same
   words are repeated: first of all the Lord speaks of “our daily
   bread” and asks Thee to give it, and then He says: “Give it us
   to-day, Lord.” <note place="foot" n="119" id="i.xxxix-p5.1">This, as will be observed
      from the title to this chapter, is the order of the words
      in the Latin.</note>He lays the matter before His Father in
   this way: the Father gave us His Son once and for all to die
   for us, and thus He is our own; yet He does not want the gift
   to be taken from us until the end of the world but would have
   it left to be a help to us every day. Let this melt your
   hearts, my daughters, and make you love your Spouse, for there
   is no slave who would willingly call himself by that name, yet
   the good Jesus seems to think it an honour.</p>

<p id="i.xxxix-p6">O Eternal Father, how great is the merit of this humility!
   With what a treasure are we purchasing Thy Son! How to sell
   Him we already know, for He was sold for thirty pieces of
   silver; but, if we would purchase Him, no price is sufficient.
   Being made one with us through the portion of our nature which
   is His, and being Lord of His own will, He reminds His Father
   that, as our nature is His, He is able to give it to us, and
   thus He says “our bread”. He makes no difference between
   Himself and us, though we make one between ourselves and Him
   through not giving ourselves daily for His Majesty’s sake.</p>

</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="34" title="Continues the same subject.    This is very suitable for reading after the reception of the    Most Holy Sacrament." shorttitle="Section 34" progress="78.79%" id="i.xl" prev="i.xxxix" next="i.xli">

<h1 id="i.xl-p0.1">CHAPTER 34<br /> Continues the same subject. This is very
   suitable for reading after the reception of the Most Holy
   Sacrament.</h1>

<p id="i.xl-p1">We have now reached the conclusion that the good Jesus, being
   ours, asks His Father to let us have Him daily—which
   appears to mean “for ever”. <em id="i.xl-p1.1">While writing this</em> I have
   been wondering why, after saying “our ‘daily’ bread”, the Lord
   repeated the idea in the words “Give us this day, Lord.” <em id="i.xl-p1.2">I
      will tell you my own foolish idea: if it really is foolish,
      well and good—in any case, it is quite bad enough that
      I should interfere in such a matter at all. Still, as we
      are trying to understand what we are praying for, let us
      think carefully what this means, so that we may pray
      rightly, and thank Him Who is taking such care about
      teaching us. This bread, then</em>, is ours daily, it seems
   to me, because we have Him here on earth, <em id="i.xl-p1.3">since He has
      remained with us here and we receive Him;</em> and, if we
   profit by His company, we shall also have Him in Heaven, for
   the only reason He remains with us is to help and encourage
   and sustain us so that we shall do that will, which, as we
   have said, is to be fulfilled in us.</p>

<p id="i.xl-p2">In using the words “this day” He seems to me to be
   <em id="i.xl-p2.1">thinking of a day of the length of this life</em>. And
   a day indeed it is!  As for the unfortunate souls who
   <em id="i.xl-p2.2">will</em> bring damnation upon themselves and will not
   have fruition of Him in the world to come, <em id="i.xl-p2.3">they are His
      own creatures, and He did everything to help them on, and
      was with them, to strengthen them, throughout the “to-day”
      of this life, so</em> it is not His fault if they are
   vanquished.  They will have no excuse to make nor will they be
   able to complain of the Father for taking this bread from them
   at the time when they most needed it. Therefore the Son prays
   the Father that, since this life lasts no more than a day, He
   will allow Him to spend it in our service. <note place="foot" n="120" id="i.xl-p2.4"><em id="i.xl-p2.5">Lit</em>.: “in service”—<em id="i.xl-p2.6">en
         servidumbre</em>, a strong word, better rendered,
      perhaps, “servitude,” and not far removed from
      “slavery.”</note>As His Majesty has already given His Son
   to us, by sending Him, of His will alone, into the world, so
   now, of that same will, He is pleased not to abandon us, but
   to remain here with us for the greater glory of His friends
   and the discomfiture of His enemies. He prays for nothing more
   than this “to-day” since He has given us this most holy Bread.
   He has given it to us for ever, as I have said, as the
   sustenance and manna of humanity. We can have it whenever we
   please and we shall not die of hunger save through our own
   fault, for, in whatever way the soul desires to partake of
   food, it will find joy and comfort in the Most Holy Sacrament.
   There is no need or trial or persecution that cannot be easily
   borne if we begin to <em id="i.xl-p2.7">partake and</em> taste of those which
   He Himself bore, <em id="i.xl-p2.8">and to make them the subject of our
      meditations</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xl-p3"><em id="i.xl-p3.1">With regard to other bread<note place="foot" n="121" id="i.xl-p3.2">The whole of
         this paragraph is lightly crossed out in the
         manuscript.</note>—the bread of bodily necessaries and
      sustenance—I neither like to think that the Lord is
      always being reminded of it nor would I have you remember
      it yourselves. Keep on the level of the highest
      contemplation, for anyone who dwells there no more
      remembers that he is in the world than if he had already
      left it—still less does he think about food. Would the
      Lord ever have insisted upon our asking for food, or taught
      us to do so by His own example? Not in my opinion. He
      teaches us to fix our desires upon heavenly things and to
      pray that we may begin to enjoy these things while here on
      earth: would He, then, have us trouble about so petty
      a matter as praying for food? As if He did not know that,
      once we begin to worry about the needs of the body, we
      shall forget the needs of the soul! Besides, are we such
      moderately minded people that we shall be satisfied with
      just a little and pray only for a little? No: the more food
      we are given, the less we shall get of the water from
      Heaven. Let those of you, daughters, who want more of the
      necessaries of life pray for this.</em></p>

<p id="i.xl-p4">Join with the Lord, then, daughters, in begging the Father to
   let you have your Spouse to-day, so that, <em id="i.xl-p4.1">as long as you
      live</em>, you may never find yourself in this world
   without Him.  Let it suffice to temper your great joy that He
   should remain disguised beneath these accidents of bread and
   wine, which is a real torture to those who have nothing else
   to love and no other consolation. Entreat Him not to fail you
   but to prepare you to receive Him worthily.</p>

<p id="i.xl-p5">As for that other bread, have no anxiety about it if you have
   truly resigned yourselves to God’s will. I mean that at these
   hours of prayer you are dealing with more important matters
   and there is time enough for you to labour and earn your daily
   bread. Try never at any time to let your thoughts dwell on
   this; work with your body, for it is good for you to try to
   support yourselves, but let your soul be at rest. Leave
   anxiety about this to your Spouse, as has been said at length
   already, and He will always bear it for you. <em id="i.xl-p5.1">Do not fear
      that He will fail you if you do not fail to do what you
      have promised and to resign yourselves to God’s will.
      I assure you, daughters, that, if I myself were to fail in
      this, because of my wickedness, as I have often done in the
      past, I would not beg Him to give me that bread, or
      anything else to eat. Let Him leave me to die of hunger. Of
      what use is life to me if it leads me daily nearer to
      eternal death?</em></p>

<p id="i.xl-p6"><em id="i.xl-p6.1">If, then, you are really surrendering yourselves to God,
      as you say, cease to be anxious for yourselves, for He
      bears your anxiety, and will bear it always</em>. It is as
   though a servant had gone into service and were anxious to
   please his master in everything. The master is bound to give
   him food for so long as he remains in his house, and in his
   service, unless he is so poor that he has food neither for his
   servant nor for himself. Here, however, the comparison breaks
   down, for God is, and will always be, rich and powerful. It
   would not be right for the servant to go to his master
   <em id="i.xl-p6.2">every day</em> and ask him for food when he knew that his
   master would see that it was given him and so he would be sure
   to receive it. <em id="i.xl-p6.3">To do this would be a waste of words</em>.
   His master would quite properly tell him that he should look
   after his own business of serving and pleasing him, for, if he
   worried himself unnecessarily, he would not do his work as
   well as he should. So, sisters, those who will may worry about
   asking for earthly bread; let our own task be to beg the
   Eternal Father that we may merit our heavenly bread, so that,
   although our bodily eyes cannot feast themselves on the sight
   of Him since He is thus hidden from us, He may reveal Himself
   to the eyes of the soul and may make Himself known to us as
   another kind of food, full of delight and joy, which sustains
   our life.</p>

<p id="i.xl-p7">Do you suppose that this most holy food is not <em id="i.xl-p7.1">ample</em>
   sustenance even for the body and a potent medicine for bodily
   ills?  I am sure that it is. I know a person who was subject
   to serious illnesses and often suffered great pain; and this
   pain was taken away from her in a flash <note place="foot" n="122" id="i.xl-p7.2"><em id="i.xl-p7.3">Lit</em>.: “as if by (someone’s) hand.”
      St.  Teresa is thought here to be referring to
      herself.</note>and she became quite well again. This often
   occurs, I believe; and cures are recorded from quite definite
   illnesses which could not be counterfeited. As the wondrous
   effects produced by this most holy bread in those who worthily
   receive it are very well known, I will not describe all the
   things that could be related about this person I mentioned,
   though I have been enabled to learn about them and I know that
   they are not fabrications. The Lord had given this person such
   a lively faith that, when she heard people say they wished
   they had lived when Christ walked on this earth, she would
   smile to herself, for she knew that we have Him as truly with
   us in the Most Holy Sacrament as people had Him then, and
   wonder what more they could possibly want.</p>

<p id="i.xl-p8">I know, too, that for many years this person, though by no
   means perfect, always tried to strengthen her faith, when she
   communicated, by thinking that it was exactly as if she saw
   the Lord entering her house, with her own bodily eyes, for she
   believed in very truth that this Lord was entering her poor
   abode, and she ceased, as far as she could, to think of
   outward things, and went into her abode with Him. She tried to
   recollect her senses so that they might all become aware of
   this great blessing, or rather, so that they should not hinder
   the soul from becoming conscious of it.  She imagined herself
   at His feet and wept with the Magdalen exactly as if she had
   seen Him with her bodily eyes in the Pharisee’s house. Even if
   she felt no devotion, faith told her that it was good for her
   to be there.</p>

<p id="i.xl-p9">For, unless we want to be foolish and to close our minds to
   facts, we cannot suppose that this is the work of the
   imagination, as it is when we think of the Lord on the Cross,
   or of other incidents of the Passion, and picture within
   ourselves how these things happened. This is something which
   is happening now; it is absolutely true; and we have no need
   to go and seek Him somewhere a long way off. For we know that,
   until the accidents of bread have been consumed by our natural
   heat, the good Jesus is with us and we should [not lose so
   good an opportunity but should] come to Him.  If, while He
   went about in the world, the sick were healed merely by
   touching His clothes, how can we doubt that He will work
   miracles when He is within us, if we have faith, or that He
   will give us what we ask of Him since He is in our house? His
   Majesty is not wont to offer us too little payment for His
   lodging if we treat Him well.</p>

<p id="i.xl-p10">If you grieve at not seeing Him with the eyes of the body,
   remember that that would not be good for us, for it is one
   thing to see Him glorified and quite another to see Him as He
   was when He lived in the world. So weak is our nature that
   nobody could endure the sight—in fact, there would be no
   one left to endure it, for no one would wish to remain in the
   world any longer. Once having seen this Eternal Truth, people
   would realize that all the things we prize here are mockery
   and falsehood. And if such great Majesty could be seen, how
   could a miserable sinner like myself, after having so greatly
   offended Him, remain so near to Him? Beneath those accidents
   of bread, we can approach Him; for, if the King disguises
   Himself, it would seem that we need not mind coming to Him
   without so much circumspection and ceremony: by disguising
   Himself, He has, as it were, obliged Himself to submit to
   this.  Who, otherwise, would dare to approach Him so
   unworthily, with so many imperfections and with such lukewarm
   zeal?</p>

<p id="i.xl-p11">Oh, we know not what we ask! How much better does His Wisdom
   know what we need! He reveals Himself to those who He knows
   will profit by His presence; though unseen by bodily eyes, He
   has many ways of revealing Himself to the soul through deep
   inward emotions and by various other means. Delight to remain
   with Him; do not lose such an excellent time for talking with
   Him as the hour after Communion. <em id="i.xl-p11.1">Remember that this is
      a very profitable hour for the soul; if you spend it in the
      company of the good Jesus, you are doing Him a great
      service. Be very careful, then, daughters, not to lose
      it.</em> If you are compelled by obedience to do something
   else, try to leave your soul with the Lord. <em id="i.xl-p11.2">For He is your
      Master, and, though it be in a way you may not understand,
      He will not fail to teach you</em>. But if you take your
   thoughts elsewhere, and pay no <em id="i.xl-p11.3">more</em> attention to Him
   <em id="i.xl-p11.4">than if you had not received Him</em>, and care nothing
   for His being within you, how can He make Himself known to
   you? <em id="i.xl-p11.5">You must complain, not of Him, but of yourself</em>.
   This, then, is a good time for our Master to teach us and for
   us to listen to Him. <em id="i.xl-p11.6">I do not tell you to say no prayers
      at all, for if I did you would take hold of my words and
      say I was talking about contemplation, which you need
      practise only if the Lord brings you to it. No: you should
      say the Paternoster, realize that you are verily and indeed
      in the company of Him Who taught it you</em> and kiss His
   feet in gratitude to Him for having desired to teach you and
   beg Him to <em id="i.xl-p11.7">show you how to pray and</em> never to leave
   you.</p>

<p id="i.xl-p12">You may be in the habit of praying while looking at a picture
   of Christ, but <em id="i.xl-p12.1">at a time like this</em> it seems foolish
   to me to turn away from <em id="i.xl-p12.2">the living image</em>—the
   Person Himself—to look at His picture. Would it not be
   foolish if we had a portrait of someone whom we dearly loved
   and, when the person himself came to see us, we refused to
   talk with him and carried on our entire conversation with the
   portrait? Do you know when I find the use of a picture an
   excellent thing, and take great pleasure in it? When the
   person is absent and we are made to feel his loss by our great
   aridity, it is then that we find it a great comfort to look at
   the picture of Him Whom we have such reason to love.  <em id="i.xl-p12.3">This
      is a great inspiration</em>, and <em id="i.xl-p12.4">makes us</em> wish
   that, in whichever direction we turn our eyes, we could see
   the picture. What can we look upon that is better or more
   attractive to the sight than upon Him Who so dearly loves us
   and contains within Himself all good things? Unhappy are those
   heretics, who through their own fault have lost this comfort,
   as well as others.</p>

<p id="i.xl-p13">When you have received the Lord, and are in His very presence,
   try to shut the bodily eyes and to open the eyes of the soul
   and to look into your own hearts. I tell you, and tell you
   again, for I should like to repeat it often, that if you
   practise this habit <em id="i.xl-p13.1">of staying with Him, not just once or
      twice, but</em> whenever you communicate, and strive to
   keep your conscience clear so that you can often rejoice in
   this your Good, He will not, as I have said, come so much
   disguised as to be unable to make His presence known to you in
   many ways, according to the desire which you have of seeing
   Him. So great, indeed, may be your longing for Him that He
   will reveal Himself to you wholly.</p>

<p id="i.xl-p14">But if we pay no heed to Him save when we have received Him,
   and go away from Him in search of other and baser things, what
   can He do? Will He have to drag us by force to look at Him
   <em id="i.xl-p14.1">and be with Him</em> because He desires to reveal Himself
   to us? No; for when He revealed Himself to all men plainly,
   and told them clearly who He was, they did not treat Him at
   all well—very few of them, indeed, even believed Him. So He
   grants us an exceeding great favour when He is pleased to show
   us that it is He Who is in the Most Holy Sacrament. But He
   will not reveal Himself openly and communicate His glories and
   bestow His treasures save on those who He knows greatly desire
   Him, for these are His true friends. I assure you that anyone
   who is not a true friend and does not come to receive Him as
   such, after doing all in his power to prepare for Him, must
   never importune Him to reveal Himself to him. Hardly is the
   hour over which such a person has spent in fulfilling the
   Church’s commandment than he goes home and tries to drive
   Christ out of the house. What with all his other business and
   occupations and worldly hindrances, he seems to be making all
   possible haste to prevent the Lord from taking possession of
   the house which is His own.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="35" title="Describes the recollection    which should be practised after Communion. Concludes this    subject with an exclamatory prayer to the Eternal Father." shorttitle="Section 35" progress="82.21%" id="i.xli" prev="i.xl" next="i.xlii">

<h1 id="i.xli-p0.1">CHAPTER 35<br /> Describes the recollection which should be
   practised after Communion. Concludes this subject with an
   exclamatory prayer to the Eternal Father.</h1>

<p id="i.xli-p1">I have written at length about this, although, when writing of
   the Prayer of Recollection, I spoke of the great importance of
   our entering into solitude with God. When you hear Mass
   without communicating, daughters, you may communicate
   spiritually, which is extremely profitable, and afterwards you
   may practise inward recollection in exactly the same way, for
   this impresses upon us a deep love of the Lord. If we prepare
   to receive Him, He never fails to give, and He gives in many
   ways that we cannot understand. It is as if we were to
   approach a fire: it might be a very large one, but, if we
   remained a long way from it and covered our hands, we should
   get little warmth from it, although we should be warmer than
   if we were in a place where there was no fire at all. But when
   we try to approach the Lord there is this difference: if the
   soul is properly disposed, and comes with the intention of
   driving out the cold, and stays for some time where it is, it
   will retain its warmth for several hours, <em id="i.xli-p1.1">and if any
      little spark flies out, it will set it on fire</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xli-p2"><em id="i.xli-p2.1">It is of such importance, daughters, for us to prepare
      ourselves in thy way that you must not be surprised if
      I often repeat this counsel</em>. If at first you do not
   get on with this practice (which may happen, for the devil
   will try to oppress and distress your heart, knowing what
   great harm he can do in this way), the devil will make you
   think that you can find more devotion in other things and less
   in this. But [trust me and] do not give up this method, for
   the Lord will use it to prove your love for Him.  Remember
   that there are few souls who stay with Him and follow Him in
   His trials; let us endure something for Him and His Majesty
   will repay us. Remember, too, that there are actually people
   who not only have no wish to be with Him but who insult Him
   and <em id="i.xli-p2.2">with great irreverence</em> drive Him away <em id="i.xli-p2.3">from
      their homes</em>. We must endure something, therefore, to
   show Him that we have the desire to see Him. <em id="i.xli-p2.4">In many
      places He is neglected and ill-treated, but</em> He suffers
   everything, and will continue to do so, if He finds but one
   single soul which will receive Him and love to have Him as its
   Guest. <note place="foot" n="123" id="i.xli-p2.5"><em id="i.xli-p2.6">Lit</em>.: “and have him within
      itself with love.”</note>Let this soul be yours, then, for,
   if there were none, the Eternal Father would rightly refuse to
   allow Him to remain with us. Yet the Lord is so good a Friend
   to those who are His friends, and so good a Master to those
   who are His servants, that, when He knows it to be the will of
   His Beloved Son, He will not hinder Him in so excellent
   a work, in which His Son so fully reveals the love which He
   has for His Father, <em id="i.xli-p2.7">as this wonderful way which He seeks
      of showing how much He loves us and of helping us to bear
      our trials</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xli-p3">Since, then, Holy Father, Who art in the Heavens, Thou dost
   will and accept this (and it is clear that Thou couldst not
   deny us a thing which is so good for us) there must be
   someone, as I said at the beginning, who will speak for Thy
   Son, for He has never defended Himself. Let this be the task
   for us, daughters, though, having regard to what we are, it is
   presumptuous of us to undertake it. Let us rely, however, on
   Our Lord’s command to us to pray to Him, and, in fulfilment of
   our obedience to Him, let us beseech His Majesty, in the name
   of the good Jesus, that, as He has left nothing undone that He
   could do for us in granting sinners so great a favour, He may
   be pleased of His mercy to prevent Him from being so
   ill-treated. Since His Holy Son has given us this excellent
   way in which we can offer Him up frequently as a sacrifice,
   let us make use of this precious gift so that it may stay the
   advance of such terrible evil and irreverence as in many
   places is paid to this Most Holy Sacrament. For these
   Lutherans <em id="i.xli-p3.1">seem to want to drive Him out of the world
      again: they</em> destroy churches, cause the loss of many
   priests and abolish the sacraments.<note place="foot" n="124" id="i.xli-p3.2">The
      sense of the verb here rendered “cause the loss of” is
      vague. Literally the phrase reads: “so many priests are
      lost.”</note> <em id="i.xli-p3.3">And there is something of this even among
      Christians, who sometimes go to church meaning to offend
      Him rather than to worship Him</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xli-p4">Why is this, my Lord and my God? Do Thou bring the world to an
   end or give us a remedy for such grievous wrongs, which even
   our wicked hearts cannot endure. I beseech Thee, Eternal
   Father, endure it no longer: quench this fire, Lord, for Thou
   canst do so if Thou wilt. Remember that Thy Son is still in
   the world; may these dreadful things be stopped out of respect
   for Him, horrible and abominable and foul as they are. With
   His beauty and purity He does not deserve to be in a house
   where such things happen. Do this, Lord, not for our sake, for
   we do not deserve it, but for the sake of Thy Son. We dare not
   entreat Thee that He should no longer stay with us, <em id="i.xli-p4.1">for
      Thou hast granted His prayer to Thee to leave Him with us
      for to-day—that is, until the end of the world</em>. If
   He were to go, what would become of us? It would be the end of
   everything. If anything can placate Thee it is to have on
   earth such a pledge as this. Since some remedy must be found
   for this, then, my Lord, I beg Thy Majesty to apply it.
   <em id="i.xli-p4.2">For if Thou wilt, Thou art able</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xli-p5">O my God, if only I could indeed importune Thee! If only I had
   served Thee well so that I might be able to beg of Thee this
   great favour as a reward for my services, for Thou leavest no
   service unrewarded! But I have not served Thee, Lord; indeed,
   it may perhaps be for my sins, and because I have so greatly
   offended Thee, that so many evils come. What, then, can I do,
   my Creator, but present to Thee this most holy Bread, which,
   though Thou gavest it to us, I return to Thee, beseeching
   Thee, by the merits of Thy Son, to grant me this favour, which
   on so many counts He has merited? Do Thou, Lord, calm this
   sea, and no longer allow this ship, which is Thy Church, to
   endure so great a tempest. Save us, my Lord, for we
   perish.<note place="foot" n="125" id="i.xli-p5.1">St. Matthew viii, 25.</note></p>

</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="36" title="Treats of these words in the    Paternoster: 'Dimitte nobis debita nostra.'" shorttitle="Section 36" progress="83.58%" id="i.xlii" prev="i.xli" next="i.xliii">

<h1 id="i.xlii-p0.1">CHAPTER 36<br /> Treats of these words in the Paternoster:
   “Dimitte nobis debita nostra.”<note place="foot" n="126" id="i.xlii-p0.3">“Forgive us
      our debts.”</note></h1>

<p id="i.xlii-p1">Our good Master sees that, if we have this heavenly food,
   everything is easy for us, except when we are ourselves to
   blame, and that we are well able to fulfil our undertaking to
   the Father that His will shall be done in us. So He now asks
   Him to forgive us our debts, as we ourselves forgive others.
   Thus, continuing the prayer which He is teaching us, He says
   these words: “And forgive us, Lord, our debts, even as we
   forgive them to our debtors.”</p>

<p id="i.xlii-p2">Notice, sisters, that He does not say: “as we shall forgive.”
   We are to understand that anyone who asks for so great a gift
   as that just mentioned, and has already yielded his own will
   to the will of God, must have done this already. And so He
   says: “as we forgive our debtors.” Anyone, then, who sincerely
   repeats this petition, “Fiat voluntas tua”, must, at least in
   intention, have done this already. You see now why the saints
   rejoiced in insults and persecutions: it was because these
   gave them something to present to the Lord when they prayed to
   Him. What can a poor creature like myself do, who has had so
   little to forgive others and has so much to be forgiven
   herself? This, sisters, is something which we should consider
   carefully; it is such a serious and important matter that God
   should pardon us our sins, which have merited eternal fire,
   that we must pardon all trifling things which have been done
   to us <em id="i.xlii-p2.1">and which are not wrongs at all, or anything else.
      For how is it possible, either in word or in deed, to wrong
      one who, like myself, has deserved to be plagued by devils
      for ever? Is it not only right that I should be
      plagued<note place="foot" n="127" id="i.xlii-p2.2"><em id="i.xlii-p2.3">Lit</em>.: “ill-treated.” The
         same verb is used in the following sentence.</note>in
      this world too?</em> As I have so few, Lord, even of these
   trifling things, to offer Thee, Thy pardoning of me must be
   a free gift: there is abundant scope here for Thy mercy.
   <em id="i.xlii-p2.4">Thy Son must pardon me, for no one has done me any
      injustice, and so there has been nothing that I can pardon
      for Thy sake. But take my desire to do so, Lord, for
      I believe I would forgive any wrong if Thou wouldst forgive
      me and I might unconditionally do Thy will. True, if the
      occasion were to arise, and I were condemned without cause,
      I do not know what I should do. But at this moment I see
      that I am so guilty in Thy sight that everything I might
      have to suffer would fall short of my deserts, though
      anyone not knowing, as Thou knowest, what I am, would think
      I was being wronged</em>. Blessed be Thou, Who endurest one
   that is so poor: when Thy <em id="i.xlii-p2.5">most holy</em> Son makes this
   petition in the name of all mankind, I cannot be included,
   being such as I am and having nothing to give.</p>

<p id="i.xlii-p3">And supposing, my Lord, that there are others who are like
   myself but have not realized that this is so? If there are any
   such, I beg them, in Thy name, to remember this truth, and to
   pay no heed to little things about which they think they are
   being slighted, for, if they insist on these nice points of
   honour, they become like children building houses of straw.
   Oh, God help me, sisters! If we only knew what honour really
   is and what is meant by losing it! I am not speaking now about
   ourselves, for it would indeed be a bad business if we did not
   understand this; I am speaking of myself as I was when
   I prided myself on my honour without knowing what honour
   meant; I just followed the example of others. Oh, how easily
   I used to feel slighted! I am ashamed to think of it now; and
   I was not one of those who worried most about such things
   either. But I never grasped the essence of the matter, because
   I neither thought nor troubled about true honour, which it is
   good for us to have because it profits the soul. How truly has
   someone said: “Honour and profit cannot go together.” I do not
   know if this was what that person was thinking of when he said
   it; but it is literally true, for the soul’s profit and what
   the world calls honour can never be reconciled. Really, the
   topsy-turviness of the world is terrible. Blessed be the Lord
   for taking us out of it! <em id="i.xlii-p3.1">May His Majesty grant that this
      house shall always be as far from it as it is now! God
      preserve us from religious houses where they worry about
      points of honour! Such places never do much honour to
      God.</em></p>

<p id="i.xlii-p4"><em id="i.xlii-p4.1">God help us, how absurd it is for religious to connect
      their honour with things so trifling that they amaze me!
      You know nothing about this, sisters, but I will tell you
      about it so that you may be wary</em>. You see, sisters,
   the devil has not forgotten us. He has invented honours of his
   own for religious houses and has made laws by which we go up
   and down in rank, as people do in the world.  Learned men have
   to observe this with regard to their studies (a matter of
   which I know nothing): anyone, for example, who has got as far
   as reading theology must not descend and read philosophy—
   that is their kind of honour, according to which you must
   always be going up and never going down. Even if someone were
   commanded by obedience to take a step down, he would <em id="i.xlii-p4.2">in
      his own mind</em> consider himself slighted; and then
   someone would take his part [and say] it was an insult; next,
   the devil would discover reasons for this—and he seems to
   be an authority even in God’s own law.  Why, among ourselves,
   anyone who has been a prioress is thereby incapacitated from
   holding any lower office <em id="i.xlii-p4.3">for the rest of her life</em>. We
   must defer to the senior among us, and we are not allowed to
   forget it either: sometimes it would appear to be a positive
   merit for us to do this, because it is a rule of the
   Order.</p>

<p id="i.xlii-p5">The thing is enough to make one laugh—or, it would be more
   proper to say, to make one weep. After all, the Order does not
   command us not to be humble: it commands us to do everything
   in due form. And in matters which concern my own esteem
   I ought not to be so formal as to insist that this detail of
   our Rule shall be kept as strictly as the rest, which we may
   in fact be observing very imperfectly. We must not put all our
   effort into observing just this one detail: let my interests
   be looked after by others—I will forget about myself
   altogether. The fact is, although we shall never rise as far
   as Heaven in this way, we are attracted by the thought of
   rising higher, and we dislike climbing down. O, Lord, Lord,
   art Thou our Example and our Master? Yes, indeed. And wherein
   did Thy honour consist, O Lord, Who hast honoured us?<note place="foot" n="128" id="i.xlii-p5.1"><em id="i.xlii-p5.2">Lit</em>.: “our Honourer”—<em id="i.xlii-p5.3">Honrador
         nuestro</em>: a rather unusual phrase which T. changes
      into the quite conventional honrado Maestro—“honoured
      Master.”</note> Didst Thou perchance lose it when Thou wert
   humbled even to death?  No, Lord, rather didst Thou gain it
   for all.</p>

<p id="i.xlii-p6">For the love of God, sisters! We have lost our way; we have
   taken the wrong path from the very beginning. God grant that
   no soul be lost through its attention to these wretched
   niceties about honour, when it has no idea wherein honour
   consists. We shall get to the point of thinking that we have
   done something wonderful because we have forgiven a person for
   some trifling thing, which was neither a slight nor an insult
   nor anything else. Then we shall ask the Lord to forgive us as
   people who have done something important, just because we have
   forgiven someone. Grant us, my God, to understand how little
   we understand ourselves and how empty our hands are when we
   come to Thee that Thou, of Thy mercy, mayest forgive us. For
   in truth, Lord, since all things have an end and punishment is
   eternal, I can see nothing meritorious which I may present to
   Thee that Thou mayest grant us so great a favour. Do it, then,
   for the sake of Him Who asks it of Thee, <em id="i.xlii-p6.1">and Who may well
      do so, for He is always being wronged and
      offended</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xlii-p7">How greatly the Lord must esteem this mutual love of ours one
   for another! <em id="i.xlii-p7.1">For, having given Him our wills, we have
      given Him complete rights over us, and we cannot do that
      without love. See, then, sisters, how important it is for
      us to love one another and to be at peace</em>. The good
   Jesus might have put everything else before our love for one
   another, and said: “Forgive us, Lord, because we are doing
   a great deal of penance, or because we are praying often, and
   fasting, and because we have left all for Thy sake and love
   Thee greatly.” But He has never said: “Because we would lose
   our lives for Thy sake”; or any of these [numerous] other
   things which He might have said. He simply says: “Because we
   forgive.” Perhaps <em id="i.xlii-p7.2">the reason He said</em> this <em id="i.xlii-p7.3">rather
      than anything else</em> was because He knew that our
   fondness for this dreadful honour made mutual love the hardest
   virtue for us to attain, though it is the virtue dearest to
   His Father. <em id="i.xlii-p7.4">Because of its very difficulty</em> He put it
   where He did, and <em id="i.xlii-p7.5">after having asked for so many great
      gifts for us</em>, He offers it on our behalf to God.</p>

<p id="i.xlii-p8">Note particularly, sisters, that He says: “As we forgive.” As
   I have said, He takes this for granted. And observe especially
   with regard to it that unless, after experiencing the favours
   granted by God in the prayer that I have called perfect
   contemplation, a person is very resolute, and makes a point,
   if the occasion arises, of forgiving, not [only] these mere
   nothings which people call wrongs, but any wrong, however
   grave, you need not think much of that person’s prayer. <note place="foot" n="129" id="i.xlii-p8.1">St. Teresa left this sentence uncompleted.
      Luis de León added: “You need not . . . prayer” in his
      edition, since when it has always been included. It figures
      as an anonymous correction in T.</note>For wrongs have no
   effect upon a soul whom God draws to Himself in such sublime
   prayer as this, nor does it care if it is highly esteemed or
   no. That is not quite correct: it does care, for honour
   distresses much more than dishonour and it prefers trials to
   a great deal of rest and ease. For anyone to whom the Lord has
   really given His Kingdom no longer wants a kingdom in this
   world, knowing that he is going the right way to reign in
   a much more exalted manner, and having already discovered by
   experience what great benefits the soul gains and what
   progress it makes when it suffers for God’s sake. For only
   very rarely does His Majesty grant it such great consolations,
   and then only to those who have willingly borne many trials
   for His sake. For contemplatives, as I have said elsewhere in
   this book, have to bear heavy trials, and therefore the Lord
   seeks out for Himself souls of great experience.</p>

<p id="i.xlii-p9">Understand, then, sisters, that as these persons have already
   learned to rate everything at its proper valuation, they pay
   little attention to things which pass away. A great wrong, or
   a great trial, may cause them some momentary distress, but
   they will hardly have felt it when reason will intervene, and
   will seem to raise its standard aloft, and drive away their
   distress by giving them the joy of seeing how God has
   entrusted them with the opportunity of gaining, in a single
   day, more lasting favours and graces in His Majesty’s sight
   than they could gain in ten years by means of trials which
   they sought on their own account. This, as I understand (and
   I have talked about it with many contemplatives), is quite
   usual, and I know for a fact that it happens. Just as other
   people prize gold and jewels, so these persons prize and
   desire trials, for they know quite well that trials will make
   them rich.</p>

<p id="i.xlii-p10">Such persons would never on any account esteem themselves:
   they want their sins to be known and like to speak about them
   to people who they see have any esteem for them. The same is
   true of their descent, which they know quite well will be of
   no advantage to them in the kingdom which has no end. If being
   of good birth were any satisfaction to them, it would be
   because this would enable them to serve God better. If they
   are not well born, it distresses them when people think them
   better than they are, and it causes them no distress to
   disabuse them, but only pleasure. The reason for this is that
   those to whom God grants the favour of possessing such
   humility and great love for Him forget themselves when there
   is a possibility of rendering Him greater services, and simply
   cannot believe that others are troubled by things which they
   themselves do not consider as wrongs at all.</p>

<p id="i.xlii-p11">These last effects which I have mentioned are produced in
   persons who have reached a high degree of perfection and to
   whom the Lord commonly grants the favour of uniting them to
   Himself by perfect contemplation. But the first of these
   effects—namely, the determination to suffer wrongs even
   though such suffering brings distress—is very quickly seen
   in anyone to whom the Lord has granted this grace of prayer as
   far as the stage of union. If these effects are not produced
   in a soul and it is not strengthened by prayer, you may take
   it that this was not Divine favour but indulgence and illusion
   coming from the devil, which <em id="i.xlii-p11.1">he makes us think to be
      good</em>, so that we may attach more importance to our
   honour.</p>

<p id="i.xlii-p12">It may be that, when the Lord first grants these favours, the
   soul will not immediately attain this fortitude. But, if He
   continues to grant them, He will soon give it fortitude—
   certainly, at least, as regards forgiveness, if not in the
   other virtues as well. I cannot believe that a soul which has
   approached so nearly to Mercy Itself, and has learned to know
   itself and the greatness of God’s pardon, will not immediately
   and readily forgive, and be mollified and remain on good terms
   with a person who has done it wrong. For such a soul remembers
   the consolation and grace which He has shown it, in which it
   has recognized the signs of great love, and it is glad that
   the occasion presents itself for showing Him some love in
   return.</p>

<p id="i.xlii-p13">I repeat that I know many persons to whom Our Lord has granted
   the grace of raising them to supernatural experiences and of
   giving them this prayer, or contemplation, which has been
   described; and although I may notice other faults and
   imperfections in them, I have never seen such a person who had
   this particular fault, nor do I believe such a person exists,
   if the favours he has received are of God. If any one of you
   receives high favours, let her look within herself and see if
   they are producing these effects, and, if they are not, let
   her be very fearful, and believe that these consolations are
   not of God, Who, as I have said, when He visits the soul,
   always enriches it. That is certain; for, although the grace
   and the consolations may pass quickly, it can be recognized in
   due course through the benefits which it bestows on the soul.
   And, as the good Jesus knows this well, He gives a definite
   assurance to His Holy Father that we are forgiving our
   debtors.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="37" title="Describes the excellence of    this prayer called the Paternoster, and the many ways in which    we shall find consolation in it." shorttitle="Section 37" progress="86.86%" id="i.xliii" prev="i.xlii" next="i.xliv">

<h1 id="i.xliii-p0.1">CHAPTER 37<br /> Describes the excellence of this prayer
   called the Paternoster, and the many ways in which we shall
   find consolation in it.</h1>

<p id="i.xliii-p1">The sublimity of the perfection of this evangelical prayer is
   something for which we should give great praise to the Lord.
   So well composed by the good Master was it, daughters, that
   each of us may use it in her own way. I am astounded when
   I consider that in its few words are enshrined all
   contemplation and perfection, so that if we study it no other
   book seems necessary. For thus far in the Paternoster the Lord
   has taught us the whole method of prayer and of high
   contemplation, from the very beginnings of mental prayer, to
   Quiet and Union. With so true a foundation to build upon,
   I could write a great book on prayer if only I knew how to
   express myself. As you have seen, Our Lord is beginning here
   to explain to us the effects which it produces, when the
   favours come from Him.</p>

<p id="i.xliii-p2">I have wondered why His Majesty did not expound such obscure
   and sublime subjects in greater detail so that we might all
   have understood them. It has occurred to me that, as this
   prayer was meant to be a general one for the use of all, so
   that everyone could interpret it as he thought right, ask for
   what he wanted and find comfort in doing so, He left the
   matter in doubt;<note place="foot" n="130" id="i.xliii-p2.1"><em id="i.xliii-p2.2">Lit</em>.: “He left it
      thus confused.” Here follows in E., in place of the rest of
      this paragraph, a passage which interrupts the trend of the
      thought, and therefore, in the text above, is printed in
      italics and in brackets at the end of this
      paragraph.</note> and thus contemplatives, who no longer
   desire earthly things, and persons greatly devoted to God, can
   ask for the heavenly favours which, through the great goodness
   of God, may be given to us on earth. Those who still live on
   earth, and must conform to the customs of their state, may
   also ask for the bread which they need for their own
   maintenance and for that of their households, as is perfectly
   just and right, and they may also ask for other things
   according as they need them.</p>

<p id="i.xliii-p3"><em id="i.xliii-p3.1">(Blessed be His name for ever and ever. Amen. For His sake
      I entreat the Eternal Father to forgive my debts and
      grievous sins: though no one has wronged me, and I have
      therefore no one to forgive,<note place="foot" n="131" id="i.xliii-p3.2">The words
         “though . . . forgive” are crossed out in the
         manuscript, as is the following sentence “May He
         . . . before Him.”</note>I have myself need for
      forgiveness every day. May He give me grace so that every
      day I may have some petition to lay before Him.)</em></p>

<p id="i.xliii-p4"><em id="i.xliii-p4.1">The good Jesus, then, has taught us a sublime method of
      prayer, and begged that, in this our life of exile, we may
      be like the angels, if we endeavour, with our whole might,
      to make our actions conform to our words—in short, to be
      like the children of such a Father, and the brethren of
      such a Brother. His Majesty knows that if, as I say, our
      actions and our words are one, the Lord will unfailingly
      fulfil our petitions, give us His kingdom and help us by
      means of supernatural gifts, such as the Prayer of Quiet,
      perfect contemplation and all the other favours which the
      Lord bestows on our trifling efforts—and everything is
      trifling which we can achieve and gain by ourselves
      alone.</em></p>

<p id="i.xliii-p5">It must be realized, however, that these two things—
   surrendering our will to God and forgiving others—apply to
   all.  True, some practise them more and some less, as has been
   said: those who are perfect will surrender their wills like
   the perfect souls they are and will forgive others with the
   perfection that has been described. For our own part, sisters,
   we will do what we can, and the Lord will accept it all. It is
   as if He were to make a kind of agreement on our behalf with
   His Eternal Father, and to say: “Do this, Lord, and My
   brethren shall do that.” It is certain that He for His own
   part will not fail us. Oh, how well He pays us and how
   limitless are His rewards!</p>

<p id="i.xliii-p6">We may say this prayer only once, and yet in such a way that
   He will know that there is no duplicity about us and that we
   shall do what we say; and so He will leave us rich. We must
   never be insincere with Him, for He loves us, in all our
   dealings with Him, to be honest, and to treat Him frankly and
   openly, never saying one thing and meaning another; and then
   He will always give us more than we ask for. Our good Master
   knows that those who attain real perfection in their petitions
   will reach this high degree through the favours which the
   Father will grant them, and is aware that those who are
   already perfect, or who are on the way to perfection, do not
   and cannot fear, for they say they have trampled the world
   beneath their feet, and the Lord of the world is pleased with
   them.  They will derive the greatest hope of His Majesty’s
   pleasure from the effects which He produces in their souls;
   absorbed in these joys, they wish they were unable to remember
   that there is any other world at all, and that they have
   enemies.</p>

<p id="i.xliii-p7">O Eternal Wisdom! O good Teacher! What a wonderful thing it
   is, daughters, to have a wise and prudent Master who foresees
   our perils! This is the greatest blessing that the spiritual
   soul still on earth can desire, because it brings complete
   security. No words could ever exaggerate the importance of
   this. The Lord, then, saw it was necessary to awaken such
   souls and to remind them that they have enemies, and how much
   greater danger they are in if they are unprepared, and, since
   if they fall it will be from a greater height, how much more
   help they need from the Eternal Father. So, lest they should
   fail to realize their danger and suffer deception, He offers
   these petitions so necessary to us all while we live in this
   exile: “And lead us not, Lord, into temptation, but deliver us
   from evil.”</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="38" title="Treats of the great need which    we have to beseech the Eternal Father to grant us what we ask    in these words: 'Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera    nos a malo.'" shorttitle="Section 38" progress="88.15%" id="i.xliv" prev="i.xliii" next="i.xlv">

<h1 id="i.xliv-p0.1">CHAPTER 38<br /> Treats of the great need which we have to
   beseech the Eternal Father to grant us what we ask in these
   words: “Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos
   a malo.”<note place="foot" n="132" id="i.xliv-p0.3">“And lead us not into temptation,
      but deliver us from evil.”</note> Explains certain
   temptations. This chapter is noteworthy.</h1>

<p id="i.xliv-p1">There are great things here for us to meditate upon, sisters,
   and to learn to understand as we pray. Remember I consider it
   quite certain that those who attain perfection do not ask the
   Lord to deliver them from trials, temptations, persecutions
   and conflicts—and that is another sure and striking sign
   that these favours and this contemplation which His Majesty
   gives them are coming from the Spirit of the Lord and are not
   illusions. For, as I said a little way back, perfect souls
   <em id="i.xliv-p1.1">are in no way repelled by trials, but rather</em> desire
   them and pray for them and love them. They are like soldiers:
   the more wars there are, the better they are pleased, because
   they hope to emerge from them with the greater riches. <note place="foot" n="133" id="i.xliv-p1.2"><em id="i.xliv-p1.3">Lit</em>.: “gains”, as also in the next
      paragraph. E. has: “because they have hopes of becoming
      rich.” The reference in both manuscripts is, of course, to
      the spoils and booty of war.</note>If there are no wars,
   they serve for their pay, but they know they will not get very
   far on that.</p>

<p id="i.xliv-p2">Believe me, sisters, the soldiers of Christ—namely, those
   who experience contemplation and practise prayer—are always
   ready for the hour of conflict. They are never very much
   afraid of their open enemies, for they know who they are and
   are sure that their strength can never prevail against the
   strength which they themselves have been given by the Lord:
   they will always be victorious and gain great riches, so they
   will never turn their backs on the battle. Those whom they
   fear, and fear rightly, and from whom they always beg the Lord
   to deliver them, are enemies who are treacherous, devils who
   transform themselves and come and visit them in the disguise
   of angels of light. The soul fails to recognize them until
   they have done it a great deal of harm; they suck our
   life-blood and put an end to our virtues and we go on yielding
   to temptation without knowing it. From these enemies let us
   pray the Lord often, in the Paternoster, to deliver us: may He
   not allow us to run into temptations which deceive us; may
   their poison be detected; and may light and truth not be
   hidden from us.  How rightly does our good Master teach us to
   pray for this and pray for it in our name!</p>

<p id="i.xliv-p3">Consider, daughters, in how many ways these enemies do us
   harm.  Do not suppose that the sole danger lies in their
   making us believe that the consolations and the favours which
   they can counterfeit to us come from God. This, I think, in
   a way, is the least harmful thing they can do; it may even
   help some whom this sensible devotion entices to spend more
   time in prayer and thus to make greater progress. Being
   ignorant that these consolations come from the devil, and
   knowing themselves to be unworthy of such favours, they will
   never cease to give thanks to God and will feel the greater
   obligation to serve Him; further, they will strive to prepare
   themselves for more favours which the Lord may grant them,
   since they believe them to come from His hand.</p>

<p id="i.xliv-p4">Always strive after humility, sisters, and try to realize that
   you are not worthy of these graces, and do not seek them. It
   is because many souls do this, I feel sure, that the devil
   loses them: he thinks that he has caused their ruin, but out
   of the evil which he has been trying to do the Lord brings
   good. For His Majesty regards our intention, which is to
   please Him and serve Him and keep near to Him in prayer, and
   the Lord is faithful. We shall do well to be cautious, and not
   to let our humility break down or to become in any way
   vainglorious. Entreat the Lord to deliver you from this,
   daughters, and you need then have no fear that His Majesty
   will allow you to be comforted much by anyone but Himself.</p>

<p id="i.xliv-p5">Where the devil can do great harm without our realizing it is
   in making us believe that we possess virtues which we do not:
   that is pestilential. For, when consolations and favours come
   to us, we feel that we are doing nothing but receive, and have
   the greater obligation to serve; but when we suffer from this
   other delusion we think that we are giving and serving, and
   that the Lord will be obliged to reward us; and this, little
   by little, does us a great deal of harm. On the one hand, our
   humility is weakened, while, on the other, we neglect to
   cultivate that virtue, believing we have already acquired it.
   <em id="i.xliv-p5.1">We think we are walking safely, when, without realizing
      it, we stumble, and fall into a pit from which we cannot
      escape. Though we may not consciously have committed any
      mortal sin which would have sent us infallibly to hell, we
      have sprained our ankles and cannot continue on that road
      which I began to speak about and which I have not
      forgotten. You can imagine how much progress will be made
      by anyone who is at the bottom of a huge pit: it will be
      the end of him altogether and he will be lucky if he
      escapes falling right down to hell: at best, he will never
      get on with his journey. This being so, he will be unable
      to help either himself or others. It will be a bad thing
      for others, too, for, once the pit has been dug, a great
      many passers-by may fall into it. Only if the person who
      has fallen in gets out of it and fills it up with earth
      will further harm to himself and others be prevented. But
      I warn you that this temptation is full of peril. I know
      a great deal about it from experience, so I can describe it
      to you, though not as well as I should like</em>. What can
   we do about it, sisters? To me the best thing seems to be what
   our Master teaches us: to pray, and to beseech the Eternal
   Father not to allow us to fall into temptation.</p>

<p id="i.xliv-p6">There is something else, too, which I want to tell you. If we
   think the Lord has given us a certain grace, we must
   understand that it is a blessing which we have received but
   which He may take away from us again, as indeed, in the great
   providence of God, often happens. Have you never observed this
   yourselves, sisters? I certainly have: sometimes I think I am
   extremely detached, and, in fact, when it comes to the test,
   I am; yet at other times I find I have such attachment to
   things which the day before I should perhaps have scoffed at
   that I hardly know myself. At some other time I seem to have
   so much courage that I should not quail at anything I was
   asked to do in order to serve God, and, when I am tested,
   I find that I really can do these things. And then on the next
   day I discover that I should not have the courage to kill an
   ant for God’s sake if I were to meet with any opposition about
   it.  Sometimes it seems not to matter in the least if people
   complain or speak ill of me, and, when the test comes, I still
   feel like this—indeed, I even get pleasure from it. And
   then there come days when a single word distresses me and
   I long to leave the world altogether, for everything in it
   seems to weary me. And I am not the only person to be like
   this, for I have noticed the same thing in many people better
   than myself, so I know it can happen.</p>

<p id="i.xliv-p7">That being so, who can say that he possesses any virtue, or
   that he is rich, if at the time when he most needs this virtue
   he finds himself devoid of it? No, sisters: let us rather
   think of ourselves as lacking it and not run into debt without
   having the means of repayment. Our treasure must come from
   elsewhere and we never know when God will leave us in this
   prison of our misery without giving us any. If others,
   thinking we are good, bestow favours and honours upon us, both
   they and we shall look foolish when, as I say, it becomes
   clear that our virtues are only lent us. The truth is that, if
   we serve the Lord with humility, He will sooner or later
   succour us in our needs. But, if we are not strong in this
   virtue, the Lord will leave us to ourselves, as they say, at
   every step. This is a great favour on His part, for it helps
   us to realize fully that we have nothing which has not been
   given us.</p>

<p id="i.xliv-p8">And now you must take note of this other piece of advice. The
   devil makes us believe that we have some virtue—patience,
   let us say—because we have determination and make continual
   resolutions to suffer a great deal for God’s sake. We really
   and truly believe that we would suffer all this, and the devil
   encourages us in the belief, and so we are very pleased.
   I advise you to place no reliance on these virtues: we ought
   not to think that we know anything about them beyond their
   names, or to imagine that the Lord has given them to us, until
   we come to the test. For it may be that at the first annoying
   word which people say to you your patience will fall to the
   ground. Whenever you have frequently to suffer, praise God for
   beginning to teach you this virtue, and force yourself to
   suffer patiently, for this is a sign that He wants you to
   repay Him for the virtue which He is giving you, and you must
   think of it only as a deposit, as has already been said.</p>

<p id="i.xliv-p9">The devil has yet another temptation, which is to make us
   appear very poor in spirit: we are in the habit of saying that
   we want nothing and care nothing about anything: but as soon
   as the chance comes of our being given something, even though
   we do not in the least need it, all our poverty of spirit
   disappears. Accustoming ourselves to saying this goes far
   towards making us think it true.  It is very important always
   to be on the watch and to realize that this is a temptation,
   both in the things I have referred to and in many others. For
   when the Lord really gives one of these solid virtues, it
   seems to bring all the rest in its train: that is a very
   well-known fact. But I advise you once more, even if you think
   you possess it, to suspect that you may be mistaken; for the
   person who is truly humble is always doubtful about his own
   virtues; very often they seem more genuine and of greater
   worth when he sees them in his neighbours.</p>

<p id="i.xliv-p10"><em id="i.xliv-p10.1">The devil makes you think you are poor, and he has some
      reason for doing so, because you have made (with the lips,
      of course) a vow of poverty, as have some other people who
      practise prayer. I say “with the lips” because, if before
      making the vow we really meant in our hearts what we were
      going to say, the devil could not possibly lead us into
      that temptation—not even in twenty years, or in our
      entire lifetime—for we should see that we were deceiving
      the whole world, and ourselves into the bargain.  Well, we
      make our vow of poverty, and then one of us, believing
      herself all the time to be keeping it, says: “I do not want
      anything, but I am having this because I cannot do without
      it: after all, if I am to serve God, I must live, and He
      wants us to keep these bodies of ours alive.” So the devil,
      in his angelic disguise, suggests to her that there are
      a thousand different things which she needs and that they
      are all good for her. And all the time he is persuading her
      to believe that she is still being true to her vow and
      possesses the virtue of poverty and that what she has done
      is no more than her duty.</em></p>

<p id="i.xliv-p11"><em id="i.xliv-p11.1">And now let us take a test case, for we can only get to
      the truth of this by keeping a continual watch on
      ourselves: then, if there is any cause for anxiety on our
      part, we shall at once recognize the symptoms. Here is
      someone who has a larger income than he needs—I mean,
      needs for the necessaries of life—and, though he could
      do with a single manservant, he keeps three. Yet, when he
      is sued in the courts in connection with a part of his
      property, or some poor peasant omits to pay him his dues,
      he gets as upset and excited about it as if his life were
      at stake. He says he must look after his property or he
      will lose it, and considers that that justifies him. I do
      not suggest that he ought to neglect his property: whether
      or no things go well with him, he should look after it. But
      a person whose profession of poverty is a genuine one makes
      so little account of these things that, although for
      various reasons he attends to his own interests, he never
      worries about them, because he never supposes he will lose
      everything he has; and, even if he should do so, he would
      consider it of no great moment, for the matter is one of
      secondary importance to him and not his principal concern.
      His thoughts rise high above it and he has to make an
      effort to occupy himself with it at all.</em></p>

<p id="i.xliv-p12"><em id="i.xliv-p12.1">Now monks and nuns are demonstrably poor—they must be
      so, for they possess nothing: sometimes because there is
      nothing for them to possess. But if a religious of the type
      just mentioned is given anything, it is most unlikely that
      he will think it superfluous. He always likes to have
      something laid by; if he can get a habit of good cloth, he
      will not ask for one of coarse material. He likes to have
      some trifle, if only books, which he can pawn or sell, for
      if he falls ill he will need extra comforts.  Sinner that
      I am! Is this the vow of poverty that you took? Stop
      worrying about yourself and leave God to provide for you,
      come what may. If you are going about trying to provide for
      your own future, it would be less trouble for you to have
      a fixed income. This may not involve any sin, but it is as
      well that we should learn to recognize our imperfections,
      so that we can see how far we are from possessing the
      virtue of poverty, which we must beg and obtain from God.
      If we think we already possess it, we shall grow careless,
      and, what is worse, we shall be deceiving
      ourselves.</em></p>

<p id="i.xliv-p13"><em id="i.xliv-p13.1">The same thing happens with regard to humility.<note place="foot" n="134" id="i.xliv-p13.2">It will be noticed that this paragraph is
         similar to the last paragraph in the text of V. (p. 254,
         above). The differences, however, are so wide that each
         of the two is given as it stands.</note>We think that we
      have no desire for honour and that we care nothing about
      anything; but as soon as our honour comes to be slighted in
      some detail our feelings and actions at once show that we
      are not humble at all. If an opportunity occurs for us to
      gain more honour, we do not reject it; even those who are
      poor, and to whom I have just referred, are anxious to have
      as much profit as possible—God grant we may not go so
      far as actually to seek it! We always have phrases on our
      lips about wanting nothing, and caring nothing about
      anything, and we honestly think them to be true, and get so
      used to repeating them that we come to believe them more
      and more firmly. But when, as I say, we keep on the watch,
      we realize that this is a temptation, as regards both the
      virtue I have spoken of and all the rest; for when we
      really have one of these solid virtues, it brings all the
      rest in its train: that is a very well-known fact.</em></p>

</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="39" title="Continues the same subject and    gives counsels concerning different kinds of temptation.    Suggests two remedies by which we may be freed from    temptations." shorttitle="Section 39" progress="91.48%" id="i.xlv" prev="i.xliv" next="i.xlvi">

<h1 id="i.xlv-p0.1">CHAPTER 39<br /> Continues the same subject and gives counsels
   concerning different kinds of temptation.  Suggests two
   remedies by which we may be freed from temptations.<note place="foot" n="135" id="i.xlv-p0.3">A marginal addition made, in the autograph, to
      the title by another hand reads: “This chapter is very
      noteworthy, both for those tempted by false kinds of
      humility and for confessors.” This is found in T.  and in
      most of the editions.</note></h1>

<p id="i.xlv-p1">Beware also, daughters, of certain kinds of humility which the
   devil inculcates in us and which make us very uneasy about the
   gravity of our <em id="i.xlv-p1.1">past</em> sins. There are many ways in
   which he is accustomed to depress us so that in time we
   withdraw from Communion and give up our private prayer,
   because the devil suggests to us that we are not worthy to
   engage in it. When we come to the Most Holy Sacrament, we
   spend the time during which we ought to be receiving grace in
   wondering whether we are properly prepared or no. The thing
   gets to such a pass that a soul can be made to believe that,
   through being what it is, it has been forsaken by God, and
   thus it almost doubts His mercy. Everything such a person does
   appears to her to be dangerous, and all the service she
   renders, however good it may be, seems to her fruitless. She
   loses confidence and sits with her hands in her lap because
   she thinks she can do nothing well and that what is good in
   others is wrong in herself.</p>

<p id="i.xlv-p2">Pay great attention, daughters, to this point which I shall
   now make, because sometimes thinking yourselves so wicked may
   be humility and virtue and at other times a very great
   temptation. I have had experience of this, so I know it is
   true. Humility, however deep it be, neither disquiets nor
   troubles nor disturbs the soul; it is accompanied by peace,
   joy and tranquillity. Although, on realizing how wicked we
   are, we can see clearly that we deserve to be in hell, and are
   distressed by our sinfulness, and rightly think that everyone
   should hate us, yet, if our humility is true, this distress is
   accompanied by an interior peace and joy of which we should
   not like to be deprived. Far from disturbing or depressing the
   soul, it enlarges it and makes it fit to serve God better. The
   other kind of distress only disturbs and upsets the mind and
   troubles the soul, so grievous is it. I think the devil is
   anxious for us to believe that we are humble, and, if he can,
   to lead us to distrust God.</p>

<p id="i.xlv-p3">When you find yourselves in this state, cease thinking, so far
   as you can, of your own wretchedness, and think of the mercy
   of God and of His love and His sufferings for us. If your
   state of mind is the result of temptation, you will be unable
   to do even this, for it will not allow you to quiet your
   thoughts or to fix them on anything but will only weary you
   the more: it will be a great thing if you can recognize it as
   a temptation. This is what happens when we perform excessive
   penances in order to make ourselves believe that, because of
   what we are doing, we are more penitent than others. If we
   conceal our penances from our confessor or superior, or if we
   are told to give them up and do not obey, that is a clear case
   of temptation. Always try to obey, however much it may hurt
   you to do so, for that is the greatest possible
   perfection.</p>

<p id="i.xlv-p4">There is another very dangerous kind of temptation: a feeling
   of security caused by the belief that we shall never again
   return to our past faults and to the pleasures of the world.
   “I know all about these things now,” we say, “and I realize
   that they all come to an end and I get more pleasure from the
   things of God.” If this temptation comes to beginners it is
   very serious; for, having this sense of security, they think
   nothing of running once more into occasions of sin. They soon
   come up against these—and then God preserve them from
   falling back farther than before! The devil, seeing that here
   are souls which may do him harm and be of great help to
   others, does all in his power to prevent them from rising
   again. However many consolations and pledges of love the Lord
   may give you, therefore, you must never be so sure of
   yourselves that you cease to be afraid of falling back again,
   and you must keep yourselves from occasions of sin.</p>

<p id="i.xlv-p5">Do all you can to discuss these graces and favours with
   someone who can give you light and have no secrets from him.
   However sublime your contemplation may be, take great care
   both to begin and to end every period of prayer with
   self-examination. If these favours come from God, you will do
   this more frequently, without either taking or needing any
   advice from me, for such favours bring humility with them and
   always leave us with more light by which we may see our own
   unworthiness. I will say no more here, for you will find many
   books which give this kind of advice. I have said all this
   because I have had experience of the matter and have sometimes
   found myself in difficulties of this nature. Nothing that can
   be said about it, however, will give us complete security.</p>

<p id="i.xlv-p6">What, then, Eternal Father, can we do but flee to Thee and beg
   Thee not to allow these enemies of ours to lead us into
   temptations? If attacks are made upon us publicly, we shall
   easily surmount them, with Thy help. But how can we be ready
   for these treacherous assaults, <note place="foot" n="136" id="i.xlv-p6.1"><em id="i.xlv-p6.2">Lit</em>.: “these treasons.”</note>my God?
   We need constantly to pray for Thy help. Show us, Lord, some
   way of recognizing them and guarding against them. Thou
   knowest that there are not many who walk along this road, and
   if so many fears are to beset them, there will be far
   fewer.</p>

<p id="i.xlv-p7">What a strange thing it is! You might suppose that the devil
   never tempted those who do not walk along the road of prayer!
   People get a greater shock when deception overtakes a single
   one of the many persons who are striving to be perfect than
   when a hundred thousand others are deceived and fall into open
   sin, whom there is no need to look at in order to see if they
   are good or evil, for Satan can be seen at their side
   a thousand leagues away. But as a matter of fact people are
   right about this, for very few who say the Paternoster in the
   way that has been described are deceived by the devil, so
   that, if the deception of one of them causes surprise, that is
   because it is a new and an unusual thing. For human nature is
   such that we scarcely notice what we see frequently but are
   astounded at what we see seldom or hardly at all. And the
   devils themselves encourage this astonishment, for if a single
   soul attains perfection it robs them of many others.</p>

<p id="i.xlv-p8"><em id="i.xlv-p8.1">It is so strange, I repeat, that I am not surprised if
      people are amazed at it; for, unless they are altogether at
      fault, they are much safer on this road than on any other,
      just as people who watch a bull-fight from the grand-stand
      are safer than the men who expose themselves to a thrust
      from the bull’s horns. This comparison, which I heard
      somewhere, seems to me very exact. Do not be afraid to walk
      on these roads, sisters, for there are many of them in the
      life of prayer—and some people get most help by using
      one of them and others by using another, as I have said.
      This road is a safe one and you will the more readily
      escape from temptation if you are near the Lord than if you
      are far away from Him. Beseech and entreat this of Him, as
      you do so many times each day in the Paternoster.</em></p>

</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="40" title="Describes how, by striving    always to walk in the love and fear of God, we shall travel    safely amid all these temptations." shorttitle="Section 40" progress="93.11%" id="i.xlvi" prev="i.xlv" next="i.xlvii">

<h1 id="i.xlvi-p0.1">CHAPTER 40<br /> Describes how, by striving always to walk in
   the love and fear of God, we shall travel safely amid all
   these temptations.</h1>

<p id="i.xlvi-p1">Show us, then, O our good Master, some way in which we may
   live through this most dangerous warfare without frequent
   surprise. The best way that we can do this, daughters, is to
   use the love and fear given us by His Majesty. For love will
   make us quicken our steps, while fear will make us look where
   we are setting our feet so that we shall not fall on a road
   where there are so many obstacles. Along that road all living
   creatures must pass, and if we have these two things we shall
   certainly not be deceived.</p>

<p id="i.xlvi-p2">You will ask me how you can tell if you really have these two
   very, very great virtues. <note place="foot" n="137" id="i.xlvi-p2.1"><em id="i.xlvi-p2.2">Lit</em>.:
      “these two virtues, so great, so great.”</note>You are
   right to ask, for we can never be quite definite and certain
   about it; if we were sure that we possessed love, we should be
   sure that we were in a state of grace. But you know, sisters,
   there are some indications which are in no way secret but so
   evident that even a blind man, as people say, could see them.
   You may not wish to heed them, but they cry so loud for notice
   that they make quite an uproar, for there are not many who
   possess them to the point of perfection and thus they are the
   more readily noticed. Love and fear of God! These are two
   strong castles whence we can wage war on the world and on the
   devils.</p>

<p id="i.xlvi-p3">Those who really love God love all good, seek all good, help
   forward all good, praise all good, and invariably join forces
   with good men and help and defend them. They love only truth
   and things worthy of love. Do you think it possible that
   anyone who really and truly loves God can love vanities,
   riches, worldly pleasures or honours? Can he engage in strife
   or feel envy? No; for his only desire is to please the
   Beloved. Such persons die with longing for Him to love them
   and so they will give their lives to learn how they may please
   Him better. Will they hide their love? No: if their love for
   God is genuine love they cannot. Why, think of Saint Paul or
   the Magdalen. One of these—Saint Paul—found in three
   days that he was sick with love. The Magdalen discovered this
   on the very first day. And how certain of it they were! For
   there are degrees of love for God, which shows itself in
   proportion to its strength. If there is little of it, it shows
   itself but little; if there is much, it shows itself a great
   deal. But it always shows itself, whether little or much,
   provided it is real love for God.</p>

<p id="i.xlvi-p4">But to come to what we are chiefly treating of now—the
   deceptions and illusions practised against contemplatives by
   the devil—such souls have no little love; for had they not
   a great deal they would not be contemplatives, and so their
   love shows itself plainly and in many ways. Being a great
   fire, it cannot fail to give out a very bright light. If they
   have not much love, they should proceed with many misgivings
   and realize that they have great cause for fear; and they
   should try to find out what is wrong with them, say their
   prayers, walk in humility and beseech the Lord not to lead
   them into temptation, into which, I fear, they will certainly
   fall unless they bear this sign. But if they walk humbly and
   strive to discover the truth and do as their confessor bids
   them and tell him the plain truth, then the Lord is faithful,
   and, as has been said, by using the very means with which he
   had thought to give them death, the devil will give them life,
   with however many fantasies and illusions he tries to deceive
   them. <em id="i.xlvi-p4.1">If they submit to the teaching of the Church, they
      need not fear; whatever fantasies and illusions the devil
      may invent, he will at once betray his presence.</em></p>

<p id="i.xlvi-p5">But if you feel this love for God which I have spoken of, and
   the fear which I shall now describe, you may go on your way
   with happiness and tranquillity. In order to disturb the soul
   and keep it from enjoying these great blessings, the devil
   will suggest to it a thousand false fears and will persuade
   other people to do the same; for if he cannot win souls he
   will at least try to make them lose something, and among the
   losers will be those who might have gained greatly had they
   believed that such great favours, bestowed upon so miserable
   a creature, come from God, and that it is possible for them to
   be thus bestowed, for sometimes we seem to forget His past
   mercies.</p>

<p id="i.xlvi-p6">Do you suppose that it is of little use to the devil to
   suggest these fears? No, it is most useful to him, for there
   are two <em id="i.xlvi-p6.1">well-known</em> ways in which he can make use of
   this means to harm us, <em id="i.xlvi-p6.2">to say nothing of others</em>.
   First, he can make those who listen to him fearful of engaging
   in prayer, because they think that they will be deceived.
   Secondly, he can dissuade many from approaching God who, as
   I have said, see that He is so good that He will hold intimate
   converse with sinners. Many such souls think that He will
   treat them in the same way, and they are right: I myself know
   certain persons inspired in this way who began the habit of
   prayer and in a short time became truly devout and received
   great favours from the Lord.</p>

<p id="i.xlvi-p7">Therefore, sisters, when you see someone to whom the Lord is
   granting these favours, praise Him fervently, yet do not
   imagine that she is safe, but aid her with more prayer, for no
   one can be safe in this life amid the engulfing dangers of
   this stormy sea.  Wherever this love is, then, you will not
   fail to recognize it; I do not know how it could be concealed.
   For they say that it is impossible for us to hide our love
   even for creatures, and that, the more we try to conceal it,
   the more clearly is it revealed. And yet this is so worthless
   that it hardly deserves the name of love, for it is founded
   upon nothing at all: <em id="i.xlvi-p7.1">it is loathsome, indeed, to make this
      comparison</em>. How, then, could a love like God’s be
   concealed—so strong, so righteous, continually increasing,
   never seeing cause for ceasing to manifest itself, and resting
   upon the firm foundation of the love which is its reward? As
   to the reality of this reward there can be no doubt, for it is
   manifest in Our Lord’s great sorrows, His trials, the shedding
   of His blood and even the loss of His life. Certainly, then,
   there is no doubt as to this love. <em id="i.xlvi-p7.2">It is indeed love, and
      deserves that name, of which worldly vanities have robbed
      it.</em> God help me! How different must the one love be
   from the other to those who have experience of both!</p>

<p id="i.xlvi-p8">May His Majesty be pleased to grant us <em id="i.xlvi-p8.1">to experience</em>
   this before He takes us from this life, for it will be a great
   thing at the hour of death, <em id="i.xlvi-p8.2">when we are going we know not
      whither</em>, to realize that we shall be judged by One
   Whom we have loved above all things, <em id="i.xlvi-p8.3">and with a passion
      that makes us entirely forget ourselves</em>. Once our
   debts have been paid we shall be able to walls in safety. We
   shall not be going into a foreign land, but into our own
   country, for it belongs to Him Whom we have loved so truly and
   Who Himself loves us. <em id="i.xlvi-p8.4">For this love of His, besides its
      other properties, is better than all earthly affection in
      that, if we love Him, we are quite sure that He loves us
      too</em>. Remember, my daughters, the greatness of the gain
   which comes from this love, and of our loss if we do not
   possess it, for in that case we shall be delivered into the
   hands of the tempter, hands so cruel and so hostile to all
   that is good, and so friendly to all that is evil.</p>

<p id="i.xlvi-p9">What will become of the poor soul when it falls into these
   hands after emerging from all the pains and trials of death?
   How little rest it will have! How it will be torn as it goes
   down to hell!  What swarms and varieties of serpents it will
   meet! How dreadful is that place! How miserable that lodging!
   Why, a pampered person (and most of those who go to hell are
   that) can hardly bear to spend a single night in a bad inn:
   what, then, will be the feelings of that wretched soul when it
   is condemned to such an inn as this and has to spend eternity
   there? <note place="foot" n="138" id="i.xlvi-p9.1"><em id="i.xlvi-p9.2">Lit</em>.: “to an inn for ever,
      <em id="i.xlvi-p9.3">ever</em>, for eternity.” The repetition of “ever”
      (<em id="i.xlvi-p9.4">siempre</em>) reminds one of the famous reminiscence
      of St. Teresa’s childhood, to be found in her
      <em id="i.xlvi-p9.5">Life</em>, Chap. I.</note>Let us not try to pamper
   ourselves, daughters. We are quite well off here: there is
   only a single night for us to spend in this bad inn. Let us
   praise God and strive to do penance in this life. How sweet
   will be the death of those who have done penance for all their
   sins and have not to go to purgatory! It may be that they will
   begin to enjoy glory even in this world, and will know no
   fear, but only peace.</p>

<p id="i.xlvi-p10">Even if we do not attain to this, sisters, let us beseech God
   that, if in due course we must suffer these pains, it may be
   with a hope of emerging from them. Then we shall suffer them
   willingly and lose neither the friendship nor the grace of
   God. May He grant us these in this life so that we may not
   unwittingly fall into temptation.</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="41" title="Speaks of the fear of God and    of how we must keep ourselves from venial sins." shorttitle="Section 41" progress="95.10%" id="i.xlvii" prev="i.xlvi" next="i.xlviii">

<h1 id="i.xlvii-p0.1">CHAPTER 41<br /> Speaks of the fear of God and of how we must
   keep ourselves from venial sins.</h1>

<p id="i.xlvii-p1">How I have enlarged on this subject! Yet I have not said as
   much about it as I should like; for it is a delightful thing
   to talk about this love <em id="i.xlvii-p1.1">of God</em>. What, then, must it
   be to possess it? <em id="i.xlvii-p1.2">May the Lord, for His own sake, give it
      me! May I not depart from this life till there is nothing
      in it that I desire, till I have forgotten what it is to
      love anything but Thee and till I deny the name of love to
      any other kind of affection—for all love is false but
      love of Thee, and, unless the foundations of a building are
      true, the building itself will not endure. I do not know
      why it surprises us to hear people say: “So-and-so has made
      me a poor return for something.” “Someone else does not
      like me.” I laugh to myself when I hear that. What other
      sort of return do you expect him to make you? And why do
      you expect anyone to like you?  These things will show you
      what the world is; your love itself becomes your
      punishment, and the reason why you are so upset about it is
      that your will strongly resents your involving it in such
      childish pastimes</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xlvii-p2">Let us now come to the fear of God—<em id="i.xlvii-p2.1">though I am sorry
      not to be able to say a little about this worldly love,
      which, for my sins, I know well and should like to acquaint
      you with, so that you may free yourself from it for ever.
      But I am straying from my subject and shall have to pass
      on</em>.</p>

<p id="i.xlvii-p3">This fear of God is another thing with which those who possess
   it and those who have to do with them are very familiar. But
   I should like you to realize that at first it is not very
   deep, save in a few people, to whom, as I have said, the Lord
   grants such great favours as to make them rich in virtues
   <em id="i.xlvii-p3.1">and to raise them, in a very short time, to great heights
      of prayer</em>. It is not recognizable, therefore, at
   first, in everyone. As it increases, it grows stronger each
   day, and then, of course, it can be recognized, for those who
   possess it forsake sin, and occasions of sin, and bad company,
   and other signs of it are visible in them.  When at last the
   soul attains to contemplation, of which we are chiefly
   treating at the moment, its fear of God is plainly revealed,
   and its love is not dissembled even outwardly. However
   narrowly we watch such persons, we shall not find them growing
   careless; for, close as our watch on them may be, the Lord so
   preserves them that they would not knowingly commit one venial
   sin even to further their own interests, and, as for mortal
   sin, they fear it like fire. These are the illusions, sisters,
   which I should like you always to fear; let us always beseech
   God that temptation may not be strong enough for us to offend
   Him but that He may send it to us in proportion to the
   strength which He gives us to conquer it. <em id="i.xlvii-p3.2">If we keep
      a pure conscience, we can suffer little or no harm</em>.
   That is the important point; and that is the fear which I hope
   will never be taken from us, for it is that fear which will
   stand us in good stead.</p>

<p id="i.xlvii-p4">Oh, what a great thing it is not to have offended the Lord, so
   that the servants and slaves of hell <note place="foot" n="139" id="i.xlvii-p4.1"><em id="i.xlvii-p4.2">Lit</em>.: “the infernal
      slaves.”</note>may be kept under control! In the end,
   whether willingly or no, we shall all serve Him—they by
   compulsion and we with our whole heart. So that, if we please
   Him, they will be kept at bay and will do nothing that can
   harm us, however much they lead us into temptation and lay
   secret snares for us.</p>

<p id="i.xlvii-p5">Keep this in mind, for it is very important advice, so do not
   neglect it until you find you have such a fixed determination
   not to offend the Lord that you would rather lose a thousand
   lives <em id="i.xlvii-p5.1">and be persecuted by the whole world</em>, than
   commit one mortal sin, and until you are most careful not to
   commit venial sins. I am referring now to sins committed
   knowingly: as far as those of the other kind are concerned,
   who can fail to commit them frequently? But it is one thing to
   commit a sin knowingly and after long deliberation, and quite
   another to do it so suddenly that the knowledge of its being
   a venial sin and its commission are one and the same thing,
   and we hardly realize what we have done, <em id="i.xlvii-p5.2">although we do to
      some extent realize it.</em> From any sin, however small,
   committed with full knowledge, may God deliver us, especially
   since we are sinning against so great a Sovereign and
   realizing that He is watching us! That seems to me to be a sin
   committed of malice aforethought; it is as though one were to
   say: “Lord, although this displeases Thee, I shall do it.
   I know that Thou seest it and I know that Thou wouldst not
   have me do it; but, though I understand this, I would rather
   follow my own whim and desire than Thy will.” If we commit
   a sin in this way, however slight, it seems to me that our
   offence is not small but very, very great.</p>

<p id="i.xlvii-p6">For the love of God, sisters, <em id="i.xlvii-p6.1">never be careless about this
—and, glory be to the Lord, you are not so at
      present.</em> If you would gain this fear of God,
   <em id="i.xlvii-p6.2">remember the importance of habit and of starting to
      realize what a serious thing it is to offend Him. Do your
      utmost to learn this and to turn it over in your
      minds</em>; for our life, and much more than our life,
   depends upon this virtue being firmly planted in our souls.
   Until you are conscious within your soul of possessing it, you
   need always to exercise very great care and to avoid all
   occasions of sin and any kind of company which will not help
   you to get nearer to God. Be most careful, in all that you do,
   to bend your will to it; see that all you say tends to
   edification; flee from all places where there is conversation
   which is not pleasing to God. Much care is needed if this fear
   of God is to be thoroughly impressed upon the soul; though, if
   one has true love, it is quickly acquired. Even when the soul
   has that firm inward determination which I have described, not
   to offend God for the sake of any creature, <em id="i.xlvii-p6.3">or from fear
      of a thousand deaths</em>, it may subsequently fall from
   time to time, for we are weak and cannot trust ourselves, and,
   the more determined we are, the less self-confidence we should
   have, for confidence must come from God. But, when we find
   ourselves in this state, we need not feel constrained or
   depressed, for the Lord will help us and the habits we have
   formed will be of assistance to us so that we shall not offend
   Him; we shall be able to walk in holy freedom, and associate
   with anyone, as seems right to us, even with dissolute people.
   <em id="i.xlvii-p6.4">These will do you no harm, if you hate sin</em>. Before we
   had this true fear of God worldly people would have been
   poisonous to us and would have helped to ruin our souls; but
   now they will often help us to love God more and to praise Him
   for having delivered us from what we see to be a notorious
   danger.  And whereas we for our part may previously have
   helped to foster their weaknesses, we shall now be helping to
   repress them, because they will restrain themselves in our
   presence, and this is a compliment which they will pay us
   without our desiring it.</p>

<p id="i.xlvii-p7">I often praise the Lord (though I also wonder why it should be
   so) that merely by his presence, and without saying a word,
   a servant of God should frequently prevent people from
   speaking against Him. It may be as it is in worldly
   intercourse: a person is always spoken of with respect, even
   in his absence, before those who are known to be his friends,
   lest they should be offended.  Since this servant of God is in
   a state of grace, this grace must cause him to be respected,
   however lowly his station, for people will not distress him in
   a matter about which they know him to feel so strongly as
   giving offence to God. I really do not know the reason for
   this but I do know that it very commonly happens. Do not be
   too strict with yourselves, then, for, if your spirit begins
   to quail, it will do great harm to what is good in you and may
   sometimes lead to scrupulosity, which is a hindrance to
   progress both in yourselves and in others. Even if things are
   not as bad as this, a person, however good in herself, will
   not lead many souls to God if they see that she is so strict
   and timorous. Human nature is such that these characteristics
   will frighten and oppress it and lead people to avoid the road
   you are taking, even if they are quite clear it is the best
   one.</p>

<p id="i.xlvii-p8">Another source of harm is this: we may judge others
   unfavourably, though they may be holier than ourselves,
   because they do not walk as we do, but, in order to profit
   their neighbours, talk freely and without restraint. You think
   such people are imperfect; and if they are good and yet at the
   same time of a lively disposition, you think them dissolute.
   This is especially true of those of us who are unlearned and
   are not sure what we can speak about without committing sin.
   It is a very dangerous state of mind, leading to great
   uneasiness and to continual temptation, because it is unfair
   to our neighbour. It is very wrong to think that everyone who
   does not follow in your own timorous footsteps has something
   the matter with her. Another danger is that, when it is your
   duty to speak, and right that you should speak, you may not
   dare to do so lest you say too much and may perhaps speak well
   of things that you ought to hate.</p>

<p id="i.xlvii-p9">Try, then, sisters, to be as pleasant as you can, without
   offending God, and to get on as well as you can with those you
   have to deal with, so that they may like talking to you and
   want to follow your way of life and conversation, and not be
   frightened and put off by virtue. This is very important for
   nuns: the holier they are, the more sociable they should be
   with their sisters. Although you may be very sorry if all your
   sisters’ conversation is not just as you would like it to be,
   never keep aloof from them if you wish to help them and to
   have their love. We must try hard to be pleasant, and to
   humour the people we deal with and make them like us,
   especially our sisters.</p>

<p id="i.xlvii-p10">So try, my daughters, to bear in mind that God does not pay
   great attention to all the trifling matters which occupy you,
   and do not allow these things to make your spirit quail and
   your courage fade, for if you do that you may lose many
   blessings. As I have said, let your intention be upright and
   your will determined not to offend God. But do not let your
   soul dwell in seclusion, or, instead of acquiring holiness,
   you will develop many imperfections, which the devil will
   implant in you in other ways, in which case, as I have said,
   you will not do the good that you might, either to yourselves
   or to others.</p>

<p id="i.xlvii-p11">You see that, with these two things—love and fear of God—
   we can travel along this road in peace and quietness, <em id="i.xlvii-p11.1">and
      not think at every step that we can see some pitfall, and
      that we shall never reach our goal.<note place="foot" n="140" id="i.xlvii-p11.2">Or
         “for [if we do this] we shall never reach our
         goal.”</note>Yet we cannot be sure of reaching it,
      so</em> fear will always lead the way, and then we shall
   not grow careless, for, as long as we live, we must never feel
   completely safe or we shall be in great danger. And that was
   our Teacher’s meaning when at the end of this prayer He said
   these words to His Father, knowing how necessary they were:
   ”<em id="i.xlvii-p11.3">But deliver us from evil. Amen</em>.”</p>
</div2>

      <div2 type="Section" n="42" title="Treats of these last words of    the Paternoster: 'Sed libera nos a malo. Amen.' 'But deliver    us from evil. Amen.'" shorttitle="Section 42" progress="97.59%" id="i.xlviii" prev="i.xlvii" next="toc">

<h1 id="i.xlviii-p0.1">CHAPTER 42<br /> Treats of these last words of the
   Paternoster: “Sed libera nos a malo. Amen.” “But deliver us
   from evil. Amen.”</h1>

<p id="i.xlviii-p1">I think the good Jesus was right to ask this for Himself, for
   we know how weary of this life He was when at the Supper He
   said to His Apostles: “With desire I have desired to sup with
   you”<note place="foot" n="141" id="i.xlviii-p1.1">St. Luke xxii, 15.</note>—and that
   was the last supper of His life. From this it can be seen how
   weary He must have been of living; yet nowadays people are not
   weary even at a hundred years old, but always want to live
   longer. It is true, however, that we do not live so difficult
   a life or suffer such trials or such poverty as His Majesty
   had to bear. What was His whole life but a continuous death,
   with the picture of the cruel death that He was to suffer
   always before His eyes? And this was the least important
   thing, with so many offenses being committed against His
   Father and such a multitude of souls being lost. If to any
   human being full of charity this is a great torment, what must
   it have been to the boundless and measureless charity of the
   Lord? And how right He was to beseech the Father to deliver
   Him from so many evils and trials and to give Him rest for
   ever in His Kingdom, of which He was the true heir.</p>

<p id="i.xlviii-p2">By the word “Amen,” as it comes at the end of every prayer,
   I understand that the Lord is begging that we may be delivered
   from all evil for ever. <em id="i.xlviii-p2.1">It is useless, sisters, for us to
      think that, for so long as we live, we can be free from
      numerous temptations and imperfections and even sins; for
      it is said that whosoever thinks himself to be without sin
      deceives himself, and that is true. But if we try to banish
      bodily ills and trials—and who is without very many and
      various trials of such kinds?—is it not right that we
      should ask to be delivered from sin?</em></p>

<p id="i.xlviii-p3"><em id="i.xlviii-p3.1">Still, let us realize that what we are asking here—this
      deliverance from all evil—seems an impossibility,
      whether we are thinking of bodily ills, as I have said, or
      of imperfections and faults in God’s service. I am
      referring, not to the saints, who, as Saint Paul said, can
      do all things in Christ<note place="foot" n="142" id="i.xlviii-p3.2">Philippians iv,
         13.</note>but to sinners like myself. When I find myself
      trammelled by weakness, lukewarmness, lack of mortification
      and many other things, I realize that I must beg for help
      from the Lord.</em></p>

<p id="i.xlviii-p4"><em id="i.xlviii-p4.1">You, daughters, must ask as you think best. Personally,
      I shall find no redress in this life, so I ask the Lord to
      deliver me from all evil “for ever.” What good thing shall
      we find in this life, sisters, in which we are deprived of
      our great Good and are absent from Him? Deliver me, Lord,
      from this shadow of death; deliver me from all these
      trials; deliver me from all these pains; deliver me from
      all these changes, from all the formalities with which we
      are forced to comply for as long as we live, from all the
      many, many, many things which weary and depress me, and the
      enumeration of all of which would weary the reader if
      I were to repeat them. This life is unendurable. The source
      of my own depression must be my own wicked life and the
      realization that even now I am not living as I should, so
      great are my obligations.</em></p>

<p id="i.xlviii-p5">I beseech the Lord, then, to deliver me from all evil for
   ever, since I cannot pay what I owe, and may perhaps run
   farther into debt each day. And the hardest thing to bear,
   Lord, is that I cannot know with any certainty if I love Thee
   and if my desires are acceptable in Thy sight. O my God and
   Lord, deliver me from all evil and be pleased to lead me to
   that place where all good things are to be found. What can be
   looked for on earth by those to whom Thou hast given some
   knowledge of what the world is and those who have a living
   faith in what the Eternal Father has laid up for them
   <em id="i.xlviii-p5.1">because His Son asks it of Him and teaches us to ask Him
      for it too?</em></p>

<p id="i.xlviii-p6">When contemplatives ask for this with fervent desire and full
   determination it is a <em id="i.xlviii-p6.1">very</em> clear sign that <em id="i.xlviii-p6.2">their
      contemplation is genuine and that</em> the favours which
   they receive in prayer are from God. Let those who have these
   favours, <note place="foot" n="143" id="i.xlviii-p6.3"><em id="i.xlviii-p6.4">Lit</em>.: “Let those who are
      so.”</note>then, prize them highly. But if I myself make
   this request it is not for that reason (I mean, it must not be
   taken as being for that reason); it is because I am wearied by
   so many trials and because my life has been so wicked that
   I am afraid of living any longer. It is not surprising if
   those who share in the favours of God should wish to pass to
   a life where they no longer enjoy mere sips at them: <em id="i.xlviii-p6.5">being
      already partakers in some knowledge of His greatness, they
      would fain see it in its entirety.  They have no desire to
      remain</em> where there are so many hindrances to the
   enjoyment of so many blessings; nor that they should desire to
   be where the Sun of justice never sets.  Henceforward all the
   things they see on earth seem dim to them and I wonder that
   they can live for even an hour. No one can be content to do so
   who has begun to enjoy such things, and has been given the
   Kingdom of God on earth, and must live to do, not his own
   will, but the will of the King.</p>

<p id="i.xlviii-p7">Oh, far other must be that life in which we no longer desire
   death! How differently shall we then incline our wills towards
   the will of God! His will is for us to desire truth, whereas
   we desire falsehood; His will is for us to desire the eternal,
   whereas we prefer that which passes away; His will is for us
   to desire great and sublime things, whereas we desire the base
   things of earth; He would have us desire only what is certain,
   whereas here on earth we love what is doubtful. What a mockery
   it all is, my daughters, unless we beseech God to deliver us
   from these perils for ever and to keep us from all evil! And
   although our desire for this may not be perfect, let us strive
   to make the petition. What does it cost us to ask it, since we
   ask it of One Who is so powerful? <em id="i.xlviii-p7.1">It would be insulting
      a great emperor to ask him for a farthing</em>.  Since we
   have already given Him our will, let us leave the giving to
   His will, so that we may be the more surely heard; and may His
   name be for ever hallowed in the Heavens and on the earth and
   may His will be ever done in me. Amen.</p>

<p id="i.xlviii-p8"><em id="i.xlviii-p8.1">You see now, friends, what is meant by perfection in vocal
      prayer, in which we consider and know to Whom the prayer is
      being made, Who is making it and what is its object. When
      you are told that it is not good for you to practise any
      but vocal prayer, do not be discouraged, but read this with
      great care and beg God to explain to you anything about
      prayer which you cannot understand.  For no one can deprive
      you of vocal prayer or make you say the Paternoster
      hurriedly, without understanding it. If anyone tries to do
      so, or advises you to give up your prayer, take no notice
      of him. You may be sure he is a false prophet; and in these
      days, remember, you must not believe everyone, for, though
      you may be told now that you have nothing to fear, you do
      not know what is in store for you. I had intended, as well
      as saying this, to talk to you a little about how you
      should say the Ave Maria, but I have written at such length
      that that will have to be left over. If you have learned
      how to say the Paternoster well, you will know enough to
      enable you to say all the other vocal prayers you may have
      to recite.</em></p>

<p id="i.xlviii-p9"><em id="i.xlviii-p9.1">Now let us go back and finish the journey which I have
      been describing, for the Lord seems to have been saving me
      labour</em> by teaching both you and me the Way which
   I began to outline to you and by showing me how much we ask
   for when we repeat this evangelical prayer. May He be for ever
   blessed, for it had certainly never entered my mind that there
   were such great secrets in it. You have now seen that it
   comprises the whole spiritual road, right from the beginning,
   until God absorbs the soul and gives it to drink abundantly of
   the fountain of living water which I told you was at the end
   of the road. It seems, sisters, that the Lord’s will has been
   to teach us what great consolation is comprised in it, and
   this is a great advantage to those who cannot read. If they
   understood this prayer, they could derive a great deal of
   sound instruction from it and would find it a real comfort.
   <em id="i.xlviii-p9.2">Our books may be taken from us, but this is a book which
      no one can take away, and it comes from the lips of the
      Truth Himself, Who cannot err.</em></p>

<p id="i.xlviii-p10"><em id="i.xlviii-p10.1">As we repeat the Paternoster so many times daily, then, as
      I have said, let us delight in it and strive to learn from
      so excellent a Master the humility with which He prays, and
      all the other things that have been described. May His
      Majesty forgive me</em> for having dared to speak of such
   high matters. Well does His Majesty know that <em id="i.xlviii-p10.2">I should not
      have ventured to do so, and that</em> my understanding
   would not have been capable of it, had He not taught me what
   I have said. Give thanks to Him for this, sisters, for He must
   have done it because of the humility with which you asked me
   to write it for you in your desire to be instructed by one so
   unworthy.</p>

<p id="i.xlviii-p11"><em id="i.xlviii-p11.1">Well, sisters, Our Lord seems not to want me to write any
      more, for, although I had intended to go on, I can think of
      nothing to say. The Lord has shown you the road and has
      taught me what I wrote in the book which, as I say, I have
      already written.<note place="foot" n="144" id="i.xlviii-p11.2">The
         <em id="i.xlviii-p11.3">Life.</em></note>This tells you how to conduct
      yourselves on reaching this fount of living water and what
      the soul experiences when there, and how God satiates it
      and takes away its thirst for earthly things, and makes it
      grow in things pertaining to God’s service. This will be
      very helpful to those who have reached the fount, and will
      give them a great deal of light.</em></p>

<p id="i.xlviii-p12">Before you see this book I shall give it to my confessor,
   Father Presentado Domingo Bañez <em id="i.xlviii-p12.1">of the Order of Saint
      Dominic</em>. If he thinks you will benefit by it, and
   gives it you to read, and if you find it of any comfort, I,
   too, shall be comforted. <em id="i.xlviii-p12.2">If he gives you this book, he
      will give you the other<note place="foot" n="145" id="i.xlviii-p12.3">The
         <em id="i.xlviii-p12.4">Life</em>. I do not know what reason St.  Teresa had
         to suppose this, but the Spanish of E. (“tambi}n os dará
         el otro”) is quite definite.</note>as well.</em> Should
   it be found unsuitable for anyone to read, you must take the
   will for the deed, as I have obeyed your command by writing
   it. <note place="foot" n="146" id="i.xlviii-p12.5"><em id="i.xlviii-p12.6">Lit</em>.: “you will take my will,
      as I have obeyed your command with the work” [i.e. in
      deed].</note>I consider myself well repaid for my labour in
   writing, though it has certainly been no labour to me to think
   about what I have been going to say, as the Lord has taught me
   the secrets of this evangelical prayer, which has been a great
   comfort to me. Blessed and praised be the Lord, from Whom
   comes all the good that we speak and think and do.  Amen.</p>

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