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Full text of "The Complete Works Of Saint Teresa Of Jesus Volume I"

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THE COMPLETE WORKS OF 
SAINT TERESA OF JESUS 



THE COMPLETE WORKS OF 
SAINT TERESA OF JESUS 



TRANSLATED FROM THE CRITICAL EDITION OF 

P. SILVERIO DE, SANTA TERESA, CJX 

AND EDITED BY 

E. ALLISON PEERS 



VOLUME I: 

GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

LIFE 
SPIRITUAL RELATIONS 



NEW YORK 
SHEED &' WARD 

1946 



BY SHEED AND WARD, ING. 

63 FIFTH AVENUE, 

NEW YORK 



NIHIL OBSTAT 

REGINALDXJS PHILLIPS, STJL 

CENSOR DEPUTATUS 
IMPRIMATUR 

E. MORROGH BERNARD 

Vic. GEN. 
Wcstmonasterii, die i6a Junii, 1944 



THE BOOK IS PRODUCED 

IN COMPLETE CONFORMITY 

WITH THE AUTHORIZED ECONOMY STANDARDS 



PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN 



To THE GRACIOUS MEMORY 
OF 

P. EDMUND GURDON 

Sometime Prior of the Carthusian Monastery 
of Miraflores 

A MAN OF GOD 



CONTENTS OF VOLUME I 

PAGE 

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xiii 

PRINCIPAL ABBREVIATIONS xxv 

AN OUTLINE OF THE LIFE OF ST. TERESA xxvii 

GENERAL INTRODUCTION TO THE WORKS OF ST. TERESA xxxvii 



THE LIFE OF THE HOLY MOTHER TERESA OF JESUS 

PAGE 

INTRODUCTION i 

CHAPTER I. Describes how the Lord began to awaken her soul in childhood 

to a love of virtue and what a help it is in this respect to have good parents . i o 

CHAPTER II. Describes how these virtues were gradually lost and how 

important it is in childhood to associate with people of virtue . . 12 

CHAPTER III. Describes how good companionship helped to awaken 
desires in her and the way in which the Lord began to give her light con- 
cenung the delusion under which she had been suffering . . .17 

CHAPTER IV. Describes how the Lord helped her to force herself to take 
the habit and tells of the numerous infirmities which His Majesty began 
to send her ........ ao 

CHAPTER V. Continues to tell of the grievous infirmities which she suffered 
and of the patience given her by the Lord, and of how He brings good 
out of evil, as will be seen from an incident which happened to her in the 
place where she went for treatment. ..... 26 

CHAPTER VL Describes all that she owed to the Lord for granting her 
resignation in such great trials; and how she took the glorious Saint Joseph 
for her mediator and advocate; and the great profit that this brought her. 32 

CHAPTER VTL Describes how she began to lose the favours which the Lord 
had granted her and how evil her life became. Treats of the harm that 
comes to convents from laxity in the observance of the rule of enclosure . 37 

CHAPTER VIII. Treats of the great benefit which she derived from not 
entirely giving up prayer lest she should rum her soul. Describes the 
excellence of prayer as a help towards regaining what one has lost. Urges 
all to practise it. Says what great gain it brings and- how great a benefit it 
is, even for those who may later give it up, to spend some time on a thing 
which is so good ....... 48 



viu CONTENTS 

CHAPTER IX. Describes the means by which the Lord began to awaken PAGE 
her soul and to give her hght amid such great darkness, and to strengthen 
the virtues in her so that she should not offend Him . . -54 

CHAPTER X. Begins to describe the favours which the Loid granted her 
in prayer. Explains what part we ourselves can play here, and how im- 
portant it is that we should understand the favours which the Lord is 
granting us. Asks those to whom she is sending this that the remainder 
of what she writes may be kept secret, since she has been commanded to 
describe in great detail the favours granted her by the Lord . . 57 

CHAPTER XI. Gives the reason why we do not learn to love God perfectly 
in a short time. Begins, by means of a comparison, to describe four degrees 
of prayer, concerning the first of which something is here said. Trxis is 
most profitable for beginners and for those who are receiving no consola- 
tions in prayer ....... 62 

CHAPTER XII. Continues to describe this first state. Tells how far, with 
the help of God, we can advance by ourselves and describes the harm, 
that ensues when the spirit attempts to aspire to unusual and super- 
natural experiences before they are bestowed upon it by the Lord . . 70 

CHAPTER XIII. Continues to describe this first state and gives counsels 
for dealing with certain temptations which the devil is sometimes wont 
to prepare. This chapter is very profitable . . . .74 

CHAPTER XTV. Begins to describe the second degree of prayer, in which 
the Lord grants the soul experience of more special consolations. This 
description is made in order to explain the supernatural character of these 
consolations. It should be most carefully noted . . . .83 

CHAPTER XV. Continues speaking of the same subject and gives certain 
counsels as to how the soul must behave in this Prayer of Quiet. Tells 
how there are many souls who attain to this prayer and few who pass 
beyond it. The things touched herein are very necessary and profitable . 88 

CHAPTER XVI. Treats of the third degree of prayer and continues to 
expound very lofty matters, describing what the soul that reaches this 
state is able to do and the effects produced by these great favours of the 
Lord. This chapter is well calculated to uplift the spirit in praises to God 
and to provide great consolation For those who reach this state . . 96 

CHAPTER XVII. Continues the same subject, the exposition of this third 
degree of prayer Concludes her exposition of the effects produced by it. 
Describes the hindrances caused in this state by the imagination and the 
memory . . . . . . . .100 

CHAPTER XVIII Treats of the fourth degree of prayer. Begins to describe 
in an excellent way the great dignity conferred by the Lord upon the soul 
in this state. This chapter is meant for the great encouragement of those 
who practise prayer to the end that they may strive to reach this lofty 
state, which it is possible to attain on earth, though not through our 
merits but by the Lord's goodness. Let it be read with attention, for its 
exposition is most subtle and it contains most noteworthy things . .105 

CHAPTER XIX.~Continues the same subject. Begins to describe the effects 
produced in the soul by this decree of prayer. Exhorts souls earnestly not 
to turn back, even if after receiving this favour they should fall, and not 
to give up prayer. Describes the harm that will ensue if they do not follow 
this counsel. This chapter is to be read very carefully and will be of great 
comfort to the weak and to sinners . . . . . 1 1 1 



CONTENTS ix 

CHAPTER XX. Treats of the difference between union and rapture. PAGE 
Describes the nature of rapture and says something of the blessing that 
comes to the soul which the Lord, of His goodness, brings to it. Describes 
the effects which it produces This chapter is particularly admirable . 119 

CHAPTER XXI. Continues and ends the account of this last degree of 
prayer. Describes the feelings of the soul in this state on its return to life 
in the world and the light which the Lord sheds for it on the world's 
delusions. Contains good doctrine . . . .130 

CHAPTER XXII. Describes how safe a practice it is for contemplatives 
not to uplift their spirits to lofty things if they are not so uplifted by the 
Lordj and how the path leading to the most exalted contemplation must 
be the Humanity of Christ. Tells of an occasion on which she was herself 
deceived. This chapter is very profitable . . . .136 

CHAPTER XXIII. Resumes the description of the course of her life and 
tells how and by what means she began to aim at greater perfection. It 
is of advantage for persons who are concerned in the direction of souls 
that practise prayer to know how they must conduct themselves in the 
early stages. The profit that she herself gamed thereby . 145 

CHAPTER XXIV. Continues the subject already begun. Describes how 
her soul profited more and more after she began to obey, how little it 
availed her to resist the favours of God and how His Majesty went on 
giving them to her in increasing measure . . . .152 

CHAPTER XXV. Discusses the method and manner in which these locu- 
tions bestowed by God on the soul are apprehended without being heard 
and also certain kinds of deception which may occur here and the way to 
recognize them. This chapter is most profitable for anyone who finds him- 
self at this stage of prayer because the exposition is very good and contains 
much teaching . ..... 156 

CHAPTER XXVI. Continues the same subject. Goes on with the descrip- 
tion and explanation of things which befell her and which rid her of her 
fears and assured her that it was the good spirit that was speaking to her . 1 66 

CHAPTER XXVII. Treats of another way in which the Lord teaches the 
soul and in an admirable manner makes His will plain to it without the 
use of words. Describes a vision and a great favour, not imaginary, granted 
her by the Lord. This chapter should be carefully noted . . .169 

CHAPTER XXVIIL Treats of the great favours which the Lord bestowed 
upon her, and of His first appearance to her. Describes the nature of an 
imaginary vision. Enumerates the important effects and signs which 
this produces when it proceeds from God. This chapter is very profitable 
and should be carefully noted . . . . . .178 

CHAPTER XXIX. Continues the subject already begun and describes 
certain great favours which the Lord showed her and the things which 
His Majesty said to her to reassure her and give her answers for those who 
opposed her ........ 187 

CHAPTER XXX.- Takes up the course of her life again and tells how the 
I^prd granted her great relief from her trials by bringing her a visit from 
the holy man, Fray Peter of Alcantara, of the Order of the glorious Saint 
Francis. Discusses the severe temptations and interior trials which she 
sometimes suffered . . ... . 194 



x CONTENTS 

CHAPTER XXXI. Treats of certain outward temptations and representa- PAGE 
tions made to her by the devil and of tortures which he caused her. 
Discusses likewise several matters which are extremely useful for people 
to know if they are walking on the road to perfection . . . 204 

CHAPTER XXXII. Tells how the Lord was pleased to cany her in spirit 
to a place in heU which she had merited for her sins. Describes a part of 
what was shown her there. Begins to tell of the way and means whereby 
the convent of Saint Joseph was founded in the place where it now is . 215 

CHAPTER XXXIII. Proceeds with the same subject the foundation of 
the convent of the glorious Saint Joseph. Tells how she was commanded not 
to continue it, how for a time she gave it up, how she suffered various 
trials and how in all of them she was comforted by the Lord . . 223 

CHAPTER XXXIV. Describes how about this time she had to leave the 
place, for a reason which is given, and how her superior ordered her to 
go and comfort a great lady who was in sore distress. Begins the descrip- 
tion of what happened to her there, of how the Lord granted her the great 
favour of being the means whereby His Majesty aroused a great person 
to serve Him in real earnest and of how later she obtained help and pro- 
tection from Him. This chapter should be carefully noted . . 232 

CHAPTER XXXV. Continues the same subject the foundation of this 
house of our glorious Father Saint Joseph. Tells how the Lord brought it 
about that holy poverty should be observed there and why she left that 
lady, and describes several other things that happened to frer , . 241 

CHAPTER XXXVI. Continues the subject already begun and describes 
the completion of the foundation of this convent of the glorious Saint 
Joseph, and the great opposition and numerous persecutions which the 
nuns had to endure after taking the habit, and the great trials and tempta- 
tions which she suffered, and how the Lord delivered her from everything 
victoriously, to His glory and praise ..... 248 

CHAPTER XXXVII. Describes the effects produced upon her after the Lord 
had granted her any favour. Adds much sound teaching. Says how we 
must strive in order to attain one degree more of glory and esteem it highly 
and how for no trial must we renounce blessings which are everlasting . 261 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. Describes certain great favours which the Lord 
bestowed upon her, both in showing her certain heavenly secrets and in 
granting her other great visions and revelations which His Majesty was 
pleased that she should experience. Speaks of the effects which these 
produced upon her and of the great profit which they brought to her soul 267 

CHAPTER XXXIX, Continues the same subject and tells of the great 
favours which the Lord has shown her. Describes His promises to her on 
behalf of persons for whom she might pray to Him, Tells of some out- 
standing respects in which His Majesty has granted her this favour . 279 

CHAPTER XL. Continues the same subject and tells of the great favours 
which the Lord has granted her. From some of these may be obtained 
most excellent teaching, and, next to obedience, her principal motive in 
writing has been, as she has said, to convey this instruction and to describe 
such favours as are for the profit of souls. With this chapter the narrative 
of her life which she has written comes to an end. May it ,be to the glory 
of the Lord. Amen ....... 290 

Letter written by the Saint to Father Garcia de Toledo when sending him her Life. 299 



CONTENTS xi 



SPIRITUAL RELATIONS ADDRESSED BY SAINT TERESA 
OF JESUS TO HER CONFESSORS 

PAGE 

INTRODUCTION. 301 

RELATION L From the Convent of the Incarnation, Avila, in the year 1560. 306 

RELATION II* -From the Palace of Dona Luisa de la Cerda, in the year 1562. 314 

RELATION III. From Saint Joseph's, Avila, in the year 1563. 316 

RELATION IV. From Seville, in the year 1576. 319 

RELATION V. From Seville, hi the year 1576. 337 

RELATION VI. From Palcncia, in the year 1581. 334 

FAVOURS OF GOD: VII to LXVII. 337 



TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE 



For some time after completing my translation of the Complete 
Works of St. John of the Cross, in the year 1935, 1 had no thought 
of preparing a similar edition of the works of that other great 
Carmelite, to whom he owed so much, St. Teresa. Even when 
the welcome given to the works of el Santo in their new dress 
showed what an unexpectedly and encouragingly large public 
there now was for this type of literature, it seemed to me that la 
Santa was on the whole sufficiently well served by the translations 
already in existence. But many readers of St. John of the Cross 
were not of this opinion: not all St. Teresa's works, they said, 
had been satisfactorily translated; not all of them, even, were 
based on an up-to-date Spanish text; and, in any case, there 
was ample room for a fresh, modern version of the Complete 
Works, made by a single hand, with footnotes of an elucidatory 
rather than a piously discursive type an edition, furthermore, 
which would facilitate individual study by providing compre- 
hensive indices. 

As time went on, this point of view was increasingly pressed 
upon me, and by a great variety of people. In Spain, a well- 
known Academician asked me when a complete St. Teresa was to 
appear in English; in the American South-west, a remote com- 
munity of Carmelite nuns whom I visited put the same question; 
in England, the remark became almost a commonplace. At last 
I began to reconsider the position. The only easily accessible 
versions of the Life and the Foundations were still, though they 
had been several times revised, essentially the versions made by 
David Lewis in 1870-1: as regards both language and inter- 
pretation they could certainly be greatly bettered. The Stan- 
brook Benedictines' translation of the Interior Castle, the Way of 
perfection and the Minor Works (in prose and verse) dated from 
the beginning of this century and were much superior to Lewis; 
yet since these volumes had first appeared P. Silverio de Santa 
Teresa had published his comprehensive and critical Spanish 
edition of the Complete Works, which would make it possible to 
add a good deal, especially in the Way of perfection, to what was 
already available. The most recently published translation, 
was that made by the Benedictines of Stanbrook of the Letters 
(4 vols, 1919-24). This excellent piece of work was unfortunately 
completed before P. Silverio's three-volume edition of the 



xiv TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE 

Letters appeared, and, though in 1927 its editors brought out an 
appendix to their final volume consisting of twenty-two letters 
and some fragments to which they had not previously had 
access, there is a good deal in P. Silverio's three volumes which 
it would be worth while to pass on to the English reader. None 
the less, the Letters presented the least urgent part of the 
problem. 

After full consideration, I decided to undertake an edition of 
the Complete Works, publishing them all, in one series, as soon 
as might be, with the exception of the Letters, a new edition of 
which it seemed better to postpone for the present, since it would 
be strange if the recent years of upheaval in Spain did not lead 
to fresh discoveries. Accordingly, the work was begun in the 
summer of 1939, continued throughout the whole period of the 
War and is only now completed. 

II 

It might be thought that St. Teresa so often colloquial and 
matter-of-fact in her language would be a great deal easier 
to translate than St. John of the Cross, but the truth is very nearly 
the exact opposite. There are certainly passages and phrases 
in St. John of the Cross which present the greatest difficulty, 
but they are relatively few: for all the sublimity of his teaching, 
his expression is, as a rule, crystal-clear, and at every turn the 
translator is assisted by his logical and orderly mind and by his 
great objectivity. Much of St. Teresa's work, on the other hand, 
is autobiographical narrative, and, even in that part of it which is 
not, every page bears the indelible impress of her forceful and 
vivid personality. In addition to the difficulty of interpreting 
that personality by means of a translation there are stylistic 
difficulties of a kind presented by few, if any, other Spanish 
writers of the first rank. As an appreciation of these two points 
will help us to a fuller understanding of the qualities of the work 
of St. Teresa, it will be worth our while to consider them in 
greater detail. 

i. To Spaniards there is no writer whose personality com- 
municates itself with greater immediacy and intensity than 
does that of St. Teresa and this both because of her almost 
complete disregard of the literary conventions and because in 
nothing that she wrote could her strong individuality ever be 
concealed. No translator could hope to convey that impression 
as fully and forcibly as do the original words, but he is not there- 
fore exempted from the obligation to convey as much of it as 
possible. In an attempt to do this, I have denied to her vigorous 



TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xv 

and pugnacious phrases the superfluous words in which another 
age might have clothed them. In such passages as these we can 
hear the authentic and virile note of a saint unlike any to be found 
in a stained-glass window: 

"Rest, indeed!" I would say. "I need no rest; what I need 
is crosses." 1 

We can make use only of a single cell what do we gain 
by its being very large and well built? What, indeed? We 
have not to spend all our time looking at the walls. 2 

"Oh, the devil, the devil!" we say, when we might be saying 
"God! God!" and making the devil tremble. Of course we 
might, for we know he cannot move a finger unless the Lord 
permits it. Whatever are we thinking of? I am quite sure I 
am more afraid of people who are themselves terrified of the 
devil than I am of the devil himself. 3 

If Thou wilt (prove me) by means of trials, give me strength 
and let them come. 4 

In rendering these and similar phrases I have had always in 
my mind the Teresa whom I have come to know through close 
contact with her over many years. A woman who made her 
decisions and then stuck to them regardless of the consequences : 

I was well aware that there was ample troubleln store for me, 
but, as the thing was now done, I cared very little about that. 5 

Who, if she ever thought she was afraid of the Inquisition, would 
"go and pay it a visit of (her) own accord." 6 And who counselled 
her nuns to be like herself: 

Strive like strong men until you die in the attempt, for you 
are here for nothing else than to strive. 7 

Again, St. Teresa has continual outbursts of sanctified common- 
sense, humour and irony. "I just laughed to myself" is a type 
of phrase which we continually meet in her work and she has left 
us an excellent specimen of her sustained laughter in the "Judg- 
ment . . . upon various writings". 8 She particularly disliked 
pretentiousness, even in what was good, and castigated it with 

*Life, Chap. XJII (Vol. I, p. 76, below). 

* Foundations, Chap. XIV (VoL III, p. 66, below). 

8 Life, Chap. XXV (VoL I, p. 165, below). 

4 Way of perfection, Chap. XXXII (Vol. II, p. 138, below). 

5 Life, Chap. XXXVI (Vol. I, p. 253, below). 
8 Life, Chap. XXXIII (VoL I, p. 226, below). 

7 Way of perfection, Chap. XX (VoL II, p. 86, below). 

8 Vol. Ill, pp. 229-31, below. 



xvi TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE 

those most effective weapons. Even into that sublime commentary 
on the Song of Songs entitled the Conceptions of the LoveofGod, creeps 
a delightfully shrewd description of the lady whose self-importance 
was so intimately mingled with her devoutness. She, and others 
like her, 

were saints in their own opinion, but, when I got to know them, 
they frightened me more than all the sinners I have ever met. 1 

Some of her stories are shot through and through with an allusive 
humour which it needs all one's ingenuity to render such are the 
accounts of her visit to Duruelo, with Fray Antonio sweeping out 
the porch and the depression caused in the business men who 
came with her from Medina by all those crosses and skulls 2 ; 
her efforts to address a great lady as befitted her rank and how 
she "got it wrong"; 3 poor Maria del Sacramento and her attack 
of nerves on All Souls' eve in the sparsely furnished convent at 
Salamanca 4 ; the group of devout ladies at Villanueva, only one of 
whom could read with any ease, who tried to recite their Office 
using different versions of the Breviary: "God will have accepted 
their intention and labour, but they can have said very little that 
was correct. 5 ' 6 No less apt to evade one are innumerable little 
natural touches which, in the English, if carelessly rendered, 
might easily pass unnoticed : 

I was . . . ashamed to go to my confessor ... for fear he 
might laugh at me and say: "What a Saint Paul she is, with 
her heavenly visions ! Quite a Saint Jerome ! " 6 

Blessed be Thou, Lord, Who hast made me so incompetent 
and unprofitable! 7 

I only wish I could write with both hands, so as not to forget 
one thing while I am saying another. 8 

From foolish devotions may God deliver us. 9 

And in her less frequent ironical passages, such as the description 
in the Way of perfection of how the devil invents "laws by which 
we (nuns) go up and down in rank, as people do in the world", 10 

1 Conceptions of the love of God, Chap. II (Vol. II, p. 375, belowl, 

* Foundations, Chap. XIV (Vol. Ill, p. 66, below). 

3 Way of perfection, Chap. XXII (Vol. II, p. 94, below). 

4 Foundations, Chap. XIX (Vol. Ill, p. 94, below). 

6 Foundations, Chap. XXVIII (Vol. Ill, p. 164, below). 

*Life 9 Chap XXXVIII (Vol. I, p. 267, below). 

''Life, Chap. XIII (Vol. I, p. 82, below). 

8 Way of perfection, Chap. XX (Vol. II, p. 88, below). 

9 Life, Chap. XIII (Vol. I, p. 80, below). 

10 Ibid Chap. XXXVI (Vol. II, p. 156, below). 



TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xvii 

or the animadversions in the Life upon the niceties of worldly 
etiquette : 

the title "Illustrious " has to be given to a man who formerly 
was not even described as "Magnificent". 1 

The style here is so sedate that one has to pause for quite a long 
time before pressing the button lest the photograph should fail 
to catch the twinkle in the eye. 

Then there are the thousand touches which reveal the tempera- 
mentally great writer who never became, or wanted to become, 
a professional one the genius born, not made. This trait in 
herself St. Teresa never allows us to forget which is just as well 
for the translator who might otherwise conventionalize her. 
She is "stupid", "incompetent" and always busy with really 
"important" things like her spinning-wheel. She has "no learn- 
ing", suffers from "noises" in the head, a bad memory, and a 
"rough" and "heavy" style. It is useless for her to write any- 
thing on mystical theology, for "I am unable to use the proper 
terms". She cannot prevent herself from digressing if she feels 
like it: otherwise, her writing "worries" her. 2 "How I do let 
myself wander!" begins Chapter XXIII of the Way of per- 
fection. 3 As for the dates she quotes "you must always under- 
stand (them) to be approximate they are of no great 
importance." 4 And she scribbles at breakneck speed and with 
tremendous intensity, never revising her work nor even re- 
reading it to see what she has said last. 6 All the time the translator 
has to remember that he is dealing with this unique kind of 
woman it would be nothing short of a tragedy if he turned her 
into a writer of text-books. 

2. The second type of difficulty which should be referred to 
will perhaps be of greater interest to the student than to the 
general reader. In her "rough style", she says comfortingly at 
the end of Chapter XVI of the Way of perfection, her argument 
will be better understood "than in other books which put it more 
elegantly." 6 That no doubt was true, and may still be true, 
so far as the general trend of the argument is concerned, and 
one has constantly to be on one's guard, when there is some 
"elegant" word that exactly expresses her meaning, against 

*Life, Chap. XXXVII (VoL I, p. 266, below). 

3 Such references as these are to be found everywhere. See, for example, VoL 

I, p. 86, below. Vol. II, pp. 68, 234, 291, Vol. Ill, pp. xxii, xxiii. 

3 In the Escorial manuscript. See VoL II, p. 97 n. 6, below. 

* Foundations, Chap. XXV (VoL III, p. 132, below). 

5 Way of perfection, Chap. XIX (VoL II, p. 76, below). 

8 VoL II, p. 68, below. 



xviii TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE 

using it but it certainly does not apply to the exact sense of 
particular passages. Even Spaniards familiar with her books 
are continually baffled when asked the precise meaning of phrases 
which at first sight may seem perfectly simple. Vivid, disjointed, 
elliptical, paradoxical and gaily ungrammatical, the nun of 
Avila continually confounds the successors of those "learned men" 
to whom in her life she turned so often for enlightenment. One often 
has frankly to guess at her exact meaning, and half a dozen people 
may make half a dozen different guesses, none of which anybody 
can pick out as definitely correct. 

To illustrate these characteristics of her style, I have, for the 
sake of brevity, selected examples in which her meaning is^fairly 
evident. When to the difficulty of rendering her words without 
paraphrasing them is added that of deciding between several 
possible meanings it can be imagined how much the task is 
magnified. 

In the course of a discussion on melancholy in nuns, in the 
seventh chapter of the Foundations, St. Teresa observes that lack 
of discipline is often more to blame than temperament: 

Digo en algunas, porque he visto, que cuando hay a quien 
temer, se van a la mano y pueden. 

(Lit: I mean in some, for I have seen that, when there is 
whom to fear, they become docile and can.) 

This, in English, has to be expanded somewhat as follows: 

I know it is so in some; for, when they have been brought 
before a person they are afraid of, I have seen them become 
docile, so I know that they can. 1 

Again, in the Interior Castle (VI, viii), she has been considering 
how a person can be sure whether some vision is of Christ or 
of a saint: 

Aun ya el Senor, cuando habla, mas facil parece; mas el 
santo que no habla, sino que parece le pone el Senor alii 
por ayuda de aquel alma y por companfa, es mas de 
maravilla. 

(Lit: Even now the Lord, when He speaks, (it) seems easier; 
but the saint who speaks not, but seems to have been placed 
there by the Lord for aid to that soul and for company, 
is more remarkable.) 

1 Vol. Ill, p. 39, below. 



TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE . xix 

Which means: 

When it is the Lord, and He speaks, it is natural that He 
should be easily recognized; but even when it is a saint, and 
no words are spoken, the soul is able to feel that the Lord is 
sending him to be a help and a companion to it; and this is 
(still) more remarkable. 1 

Then there are shorter phrases, couched in a staccato, almost 
telegraphic style, hard enough to translate without a weakening 
of their generally considerable force 

Con esto, mal dormir, todo trabajo, todo cruz! 
(Lit: With this, bad sleep, all trial, all cross!) 

And then, the scant sleep they get : nothing but trials, nothing 
but crosses! 2 

but quite devastating when the dipt phraseology makes one 
doubtful of the meaning. And there are words which St. Teresa 
uses in a sense entirely her own, and conjunctions which do not 
in the least mean whit they say e.g. "and" for "but" and 
vice versa, not to mention the conjunction que, which can stand for 
almost any other. 

One has also to watch for, and preserve, * the Saint's col- 
loquialisms. Even in talking with God, she tells us, she has 
a "silly way" 

in which I often speak to Him without meaning what I am 
saying; for it is love that speaks, and my soul is so far trans- 
ported that I take no notice of the distance that separates it 
from God. 3 

How much more unconventional, then, is she likely to be with her 
readers ! Not only in her modes of address, but in the introduction 
of everyday, semi-proverbial phrases, some of which are no 
longer in use in Spain and might be unintelligible did she not 
thoughtfully accompany them with an "as one might put it" or 
"as they say". It would not be hard to turn into current English 
slang such phrases as : 

They see that these things are considered, as one might say, 
"all right". 4 

1 Vol. II, p. 312, below. 

*I4fc Chap. XIII (Vol. I, p. 82, below). 

9 Life, Chap. XXXIV (Vol. I, pp. 235-6, bdow), 

*#*, Chap. VII (Vol. I, p. 39, below}. 



xx TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE 

(I am) so peevish and ill-tempered that I seem to want to 
snap everyone up. 1 

We had not so much as a scrap of brushwood to broil a 
sardine on. 2 

So with her homely and vivid metaphors : the Christian making 
progress "at a hen's pace" or even "like hens with their feet 
tied"; his adversary the devil "clapping his hands to his head" 
in despair of ever vanquishing him; love finding an outlet and 
not being "allowed to boil right over like a pot to which fuel 
has been applied indiscriminately"; 3 worldly aids to devotion 
being of no more use to lean upon than "dry rosemary twigs" 
which break at the slightest pressure. 4 All these and there are 
hundreds of them enlivening her narratives and illumining 
her expositions can be so easily spoiled in translation. 

Another stumbling block is repetition, a practice to which 
St. Teresa was greatly addicted. Some of her repetitions of words 
are merely careless and clumsy as in her constant use of the 
word "great" 6 and these I have been content to indicate 
rather than reproduce every time they occur. When she repeats 
phrases it is generally for emphasis 

Oh, what terrible harm, what terrible harm is wrought . . . 
when the religious life is not properly observed ! 6 

and, except occasionally where our language necessitates another 
formula for the conveying of the effect, her phraseology can 
as a rule be reproduced as it stands. But often the same word 
is repeated in a different sense, sometimes so pointedly that it 
produces an obvious play upon the word's two or more mean- 
ings. Some of these usages cannot be conveyed in English; 
others are best translated freely with the point explained more 
fully in a footnote. But whenever possible I have rendered this 
characteristic Teresan trait quite literally: if it gives the reader 
a slight shock, that is probably what she often intended: 

How much more will anyone fear this to whom He has thus 
revealed Himself, and given such a consciousness of His 
presence as will produce unconsciousness! 7 

*Life, Chap. XXX (Vol. I, p 199, below). 

* Foundations, Chap. XV (Vol. Ill, p. 74, below). 

*Lifi, Chaps. XIII, XXXVII, XXVI, XXIX (Vol. I, pp. 75-6, 284, 166, 

191, below). 

4 Relations, III (Vol. I, p. 316, below). 
8 See, for a typical example, Life, Chap. XXXVIII (Vol. I, p. 270, below). 

life, Chap. VII (Vol. I, p. 39, below). ' 
7 Interior Castle, VI, ix (Vol. II, p 316, below). 



TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xxi 

If I . . . used my unhappiness in order to serve God, it 
would serve me as a kind of purgatory. 1 

But . . . 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. 2 

Alas that one cannot do more to give the English reader 
the unforgettable effect of intimacy with this woman of the 
sixteenth century still living and breathing in the twentieth 
as she writes in her own language! The fine shades of meaning 
which she creates with her untranslatable idioms, her love for 
inventing all kinds of diminutives, her characteristic metatheses 
and other forms of popular misspelling, her curious serni- 
phonetic transliterations of Latin texts, her long, shambling, 
breathless sentences, as common as her short sprightly ones, 
which for reasons of clarity one cannot avoid splitting up these 
make one feel that, when one has done everything possible, one 
has still done nothing. All I can say is that I have done my best. 

Those acquainted with the Spanish text may care to have 
a few notes on the renderings normally adopted for characteristic 
words and phrases. One of the Saint's most frequent exclamations, 
/ Vdlgame Diosf, which can express any emotion from playful 
exasperation to profound distress, is as a rule translated literally, as 
"God help me! " Occasionally where the context will not suffice 
to indicate the shade of meaning, it becomes "Oh, God!", 
"Dear God!" or even "Dear me!" The polite form of address 
Vuestra Merced is translated "Your Honour" (or sometimes 
merely "you") when applied to a layman and "Your Reverence" 
when used to a priest. The word letrados is rendered literally 
"learned men", though the type of learning to which it refers 
is invariably theological. The characteristic and rather subtle 
uses of the word honra ("honour", "reputation", "good name") 
are 'dealt with, as they occur, in foot-notes. Of terms used in 
specifically mystical passages, arrobamiento is normally translated 
"rapture"; arrebatamiento, "transport"; amortecimiento, "swoon"; 
elevamiento and levantamiento, "elevation"; embebecimiento, "absorp- 
tion"; and hablas, "locutions" (or, rarely, "voices"). Three 
words which St. Teresa by no means always distinguishes from 
one another are gustos, contentos and regalos, generally translated, 
respectively, "consolations,", "sweetness" (in devotion) and 
"favours", gustos being more substantial than the evanescent 
contentos and often contrasted with them. The verb regalar may 

1 Life, Chap. XXXVI (Vol. I, p. 252, below). 

* Way of perfection, Chap. XXXII (Vol. II, p. 135, below). 



xxii TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE 

run through the gamut "caress", "pamper", "indulge", 
"delight", "gladden" and "cheer"; and the singular sub- 
stantive regalo varies in the same way. Descanso can mean not 
only "rest" but something very much like "happiness", as also 
can consuelo ("comfort ") . Espiritu can refer to a person's particular 
spiritual condition or to his or her spirituality. Remedio is more 
often "help" than "remedy". For convenience' sake, St. 
Teresa's usage here being very elastic, I have called all religious 
houses for men "monasteries" or "friaries" and those for women 
"convents". To the word "soul" the neuter pronoun is applied 
unless it seems to be equivalent to "person". Where the Spanish 
gender is ambiguous, "she" is used only if St. Teresa appears 
to have a woman definitely in mind. 

Ill 

Some idea of the principles which have guided me in the 
planning of this edition will be implicit in what has already 
been said. I have aimed at extreme Hteralness, and have seldom 
sacrificed this to smoothness and elegance of diction. In an 
attempt to present the text in the best and fullest form I have 
utilized all the manuscripts reproduced by P. Silverio; and 
particular care, as will be seen, has been devoted to the Way of 
perfection. The notes, greatly abridged from those of P. Silverio, 
whose discursiveness is not limited to his introductions, have been 
kept down to a minimum; 1 the index of persons 2 and places, 
at the end of the third volume, will be found to supply any 
apparent gaps in the historical annotations, while the subject- 
index makes cross-references dealing with the subject-matter 
unnecessary. One need not remind avowed Teresans, but it 
may be worth while pointing out to the general reader, that the 
best possible commentary on many of St. Teresa's ascetic and 
mystical passages can be found by using a subject-index to the 
works of St. John of the Cross. 8 So much autobiographical 
material is found in the Life and the Foundations and indeed in 
practically all the works that no biographical introduction has 
seemed necessary; a brief outline of the main events in St. 
Teresa's career, however, supplemented by references to the 
works, has been thought worth including. 

1 [All the footnotes to the text are P. Silverio's except where they are enclosed in 
square brackets, or where the contrary is stated. I have followed P. Silverio in not 
numbering the paragraphs of the text, as both he and I thought it advisable to do in 
the Complete Works of St. John of the Cross.} 

* [English forms of the Spanish names are used only for names of Saints.] 
3 Such a subject-index will be found in Vol. Ill, pp. 445-54 of my edition of th 
Complete Works. 



TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xxiii 

The style and tone adopted in the translation of the different 
works varies considerably, just as in the works of St. John of 
the Cross even more so, indeed, than there, for the Exclamations 
are much farther in this respect from the Foundations than is the 
Ascent of Mount Carmel from the Spiritual Canticle. But, except in 
the Exclamations and in parts of the Interior Castle and Conceptions, 
St. Teresa's style is more pedestrian and colloquial than that of St. 
John of the Cross, and this I have indicated by the use of more 
"modern" language, without, I hope, entirely destroying the 
flavour of a past age. The same remark, mutatis mutandis, applies 
to the Poems. 

St. Teresa's quotations from the Bible are, often inexact: my 
rule has been to give her own words, approximating them as 
nearly as possible to the text of the Douai Version 1 but never 
allowing her to say in English anything that she does not say in 
Spanish. Her mind was so completely immersed in Biblical 
phraseology 2 that it is sometimes hard to tell if she is consciously 
quoting at all. Where a Scriptural reference is given in a footnote 
it is to be understood that I think her to be making a definite 
quotation; and in the appropriate index it is these references 
only that will be found. 

It would have been attractive to have included a very large 
proportion of the numerous- documents printed by P. Silverio 
in his nine volumes, which throw so many sidelights on St. 
Teresa's life and times. But if this translation, like its predecessor, 
was to be compressed into three volumes there was only a very 
little space to spare, even when the introductions to the individual 
works were cut down, as they have been, to a minimum. I have 
therefore confined myself to translating a few outstanding docu- 
ments, making them as representative as possible. In order that 
the pages at my a ^posal for this purpose should be used to the 
best advantage, I aave occasionally omitted irrelevant passages 
or condensed their verboseness of expression, without, however 
(I hope), impairing their spirit. 

IV 

Chief among my acknowledgments are those to P. Silverio de 
Santa Teresa, the excellence of whose work I have had occasion 
to test again and again, and to the Benedictines of Stanbrook, 
who, holding exclusive copyright for the English translation of 
his edition, have most generously permitted me to make full use 

1 All footnote references are to this version. Where the numbering of chapters 
or verses in the Authorized Version differs from this, as in the Psalms, the variation 
has been shown in square brackets. 

1 Cf. her reference to the Bible in Ltfi> Chap. XXV (Vol. I, p 161, below). 



AN OUTLINE OF THE LIFE OF ST. TERESA 

(Abbreviations: F= Foundations; LC.= Interior Castle; *LLife\ 
L'L=Letters; R= Relations, Roman numerals after F, I.C., L, 
R refer to chapters; Arabic numerals after LL, to the numbers 
of the Letters. The numerals in brackets after the name of the 
foundations record their chronological sequence.) 

I 5 1 5 (March 28). Birth of Teresa de (Cepeda y) Ahumada at 
Avila. 

1528. Teresa loses her mother. 

c. 1531. Enters Augustinian Convent of St. Mary of Grace, 
Avila, as a boarder. Stays there for eighteen months (L III) . 

1536 (November 2). Enters Carmelite Convent of the Incarnation, 
Avila, as a novice (Cf. p. 20, n.2., below. "It is forty years 
since this nun took the habit," wrote St. Teresa in 1576: 
R IV, p. 319, below). 

1537 (November 3). Professed at Convent of the Incarnation. 

1538 (Autumn: "before two years had passed": L V). Health 
gives way. Goes ("when the winter began") to stay with 
her half-sister, Dona Maria de Cepeda de Banientos, at 
the village of Castellanos de la Canada. On the way there, 
stays at Hortigosa with her uncle, Don Pedro de Cepeda, 
who gives her a copy of Osuna's Third Spiritual Alphabet. 

1539 (April-July), Undergoes treatment atBecedas. 

1539 (August 15). Attack of catalepsy, which leaves her helpless 
"for more than eight months " (L VI) . 

1540 (about Easter). Returns to Incarnation. An invalid till 
late in 1541: "This (illness) I suffered for three years" 
(L V). The effects of the paralysis remain till the summer 
of 1542 (L VI) and recur intermittently (L VII) till about 

1554- 

1543 (December 24). Death of her father, Don Alonso Sanchez de 
Cepeda. 

c. 1555-6- Begins to think she is "sometimes being addressed by 
interior voices and to see certain visions and experience 
revelations" (R IV). 



xxviii THE LIFE OF ST. TERESA 

c. 1556-7. Final "conversion" (after "nearly twenty years on 
that stormy sea " : L VIII : p. 48, below) . Cf. pp. 2 1, 56 n. i . 
First contact with the Society of Jesus ("after almost twenty 
years' experience of prayer": L XXIII). 

(1557. Visit of St - Francis Borgia to Avila (L XXIV).) 

1558. Experiences her first rapture (L XXIV) and perhaps 
(L XXVIII) an imaginary vision of Christ (usually dated 
January 25 or June 29-30, 1558. But a likelier date is 1560: 
see pp. 1 68, 179, 187, 189, below). 

Discussions begin about the foundation in Avila of a convent 
for Discalced nuns (R IV). 

1559. P. Alvarez becomes her confessor. Transverberation of her 
heart (L XXIX). 

1560. Makes a vow of greater perfection. 

1561. P. Caspar de Salazar comes to Avila (April). 

House for the first convent of the Reform bought in Avila 
(August). 

1562-7. At St. Joseph's, Avila ("The most restful years of my 
life": FI). 

1562 

January-July. Stays with Dona Luisa de la Cerda at Toledo. 
June. Finishes the first draft of the Life. 

July. Brief (dated February) authorizing the foundation of St. 
Joseph's received from Rome on the night of her return to 
Avila. The Bishop is persuaded by St. Peter of Alcantara to 
sanction the foundation. 

August 24. Foundation of Convent of St. Joseph, Avila (1) 
August (to February 1563). "Commotion" in Avila (L XXXVI). 

(After August). Is commanded to write an amplified account of 
her life. 

1563 

(About March). Goes to live at St. Joseph's, Avila. 

July 3. Takes some further step (its exact nature not known) 
towards herself embracing the Reform. 

August 22. Is granted a patent to transfer, with three companions, 
from the Incarnation to St. Joseph's. 



THE LIFE OF ST. TERESA xxis 

1564 

August ai. The Nuncio confirms the above-mentioned patent. 

1565 

(? December). Greater part of the second and final version oi 
the Life written. 

Completes the Life and sends it, at the end of the year, to 
P. Garcia de Toledo (LL 3). 
At about this time, begins the Way of perfection. 

1566 

(About August). Is visited by Fray Alonso Maldonado. 

1567 

February 1 . Visit to Castile of the Carmelite General, P. Rubeo 
(Rossi). 

April. The General arrives (April n) at Avila and (April 27) 
visits St. Teresa, authorizing her to found further convents 
of the Reform, and later (August 14, from Barcelona) two 
monasteries. 

August 15. Foundation of Convent at Medina del Campo (2). 

September-November. Remains at Medina till early November, 
During her stay there (? early in September) discusses -with 
Antonio de Jesiis and St. John of the Cross the foundation 
of the first monastery of the Reform (F III). 
In November, goes to Madrid and stays for a fortnight with 
Dona Leonor de Mascarenas. Thence goes to Alcala de 
Henares, consults P. Banez and stays till February 1568. l 

1568 

February. Visits Dona Luisa de la Cerda at Toledo. 

March (late in). Leaves for Malagon. 

April n. Foundation of Convent at Malagon (3) 

1 I.e., about six months after Maldonado's visit: cf. final words of F I (Vol. Ill, 
p, 4, below). 



xxx THE LIFE OF ST. TERESA 

May 19. Leaves Malagon for Avila. On the way, stays at 
Toledo in Dona Luisa de la Cerda's house, during her 
absence : (LL 6) . Visits the Marchioness of Villena at 
Escalona (LL 6). 

June 2-30. At St. Joseph's, Avila. Rafael Mejia offers her a 
house at Duruelo for use as a monastery. She leaves for 
Medina and Valladolid, calling at Duruelo on the way. 

August 10* Arrives at Valladolid. St. John of the Gross has 
accompanied her from Medina to Valladolid and stays 
there till September 30 (F XIII; LL 10). 

August 15. Foundation of Convent at Valladolid (4). 

October. The Valladolid nuns fall ill and go to stay with Dona 
Maria de Mendoza, who takes over their house and gives 
them a new one. 

(November 28. First Mass said at the Discalced monastery, 
Duruelo.) 

1569 

February 3. The Valladolid nuns enter their new house. 

February 21. Leaves Valladolid for Medina, Avila, Madrid and 
Toledo, revisiting Duruelo on the way (F XIV; cf. LL 13- 

15)- 

March 24. Arrives at Toledo (LL 19). (The King sends for her, 
believing her to be still in Madrid, after she has left for 
Toledo.) 

May 14. Foundation of Convent at Toledo (5). 

May 28. Receives a letter from the Princess of fiboli about a 
foundation at Pastrana. 

May 30. Leaves Toledo. In Madrid, stays for a week at a 
Franciscan convent with Dona Leonor de Mascarenas. 
Refuses to found a convent in Madrid (LL 294) . 

July 9. Foundation of Convent at Pastrana (6). (A monastery 
founded there on July 13.) 

July 21. Leaves for Toledo again. Stays there till August 1570. 

NOTE. The date of the Exclamations of the Soul to God is probably 
1569. Cf. Vol. II, pp. 401, below. 



THE LIFE OF ST. TERESA xxxi 



1570 

(PJuly). Visits Pastrana and (August-October) Avila. On 
October 31 arrives at Salamanca. 

November i. Foundation of Convent at Salamanca (7). 

1571 

January 25. Foundation of Convent at Alba de Tormes (8). 

Mid-February. Leaves Alba. Goes to stay for some days with 
the Count and Countess of Monterrey. On March 29, is 
at Salamanca (LL 25) ; in May, by order of the Provincial 
of the Observance, P. Alonso Gonzalez, at St. Joseph's; in 
June, at Medina del Campo; in mid-July, at Avila. 

August-October. Prioress at Medina (LL 27). 
October 6. Goes from Medina to Avila. 

October 15 (to October 1574). Prioress of Convent of the Incar- 
nation, Avila (LL 2gff.). 

1572 

(Between May and September) . St. John of the Cross becomes 
confessor to Convent of the Incarnation, Avila. 

1573 

June 1 1 . Earliest extant letter (LL 45) written by St. Teresa to 
Philip IL 

August. Visits the Salamanca Convent for the transference of the 
community there in September. 

August 24. Begins to write the Foundations (at Salamanca: F VII). 
Writes about nine chapters: then stops on account of 
a numerous occupations". 

1574 

January. Leaves Salamanca. Spends some time at Alba de 
Tonnes, staying for two days in the house of the Duke and 
Duchess of Alba. (I.C., VI, iv: Vol. II, p. 289, below). 
Goes on to Medina and Avila. 



xxxii THE LIFE OF ST. TERESA 

March. Travels to Segovia. 

March 19. Foundation of Convent at Segovia (9). 

Holy Week : April. Transfers Pastrana nuns to Segovia (F XVII) . 
Remains there till September 30 (F XXI; LL 62). 

October 6 (about). Returns to St. Joseph's, Avila, as Prioress. 
December (to January 1575). Visits Valladolid (LL 66-70). 

1575 

February. Travels from Avila, via Toledo, Malag6n and Almod6- 
var, to Beas. 

February 24. Foundation of Convent at Beas (10). 

March 10. Agreement for the Caravaca Convent signed (F 

XXVII). 

Before May 11 (LL 71). First meeting with Gracian (F XXIV, 
R XXXIX). Makes vow of obedience to Gracian (R XL, 
XLI). 

May 18-26. Journey to Seville (Leaves, May 18; at Ecija, May 
23: R XL; arrives at Seville, May 26: F XXIV). 

May 29. Foundation of Convent at Seville (11). 

June 9. New licence for the Caravaca convent granted by Philip 
II (F XXVII). 

(May-June. Chapter-General of the Order, held at Piacenza, 
adopts harsh measures towards the Discalced Reform.) 

July 19. Writes from Seville to Philip II (LL 77) on behalf of 
the plan for dividing the Order and asking that P. Gracian 
be made Provincial of the Discalced. 

August. Arrival of her brothers Lorenzo and Pedro from Spanish 
America (F XXV, R XL VI, LL 87, P. Silverio, IX, 246.) 

(Shortly before Christmas). Receives a written order from the 
General to leave Andalusia and to go to reside in a Gastilian 
convent. P. Gracian authorizes her to stay at Seville till the 
summer (LL 87, 91). 

1576 

(From June 1576 to June 1580 St. Teresa is mainly at Toledo 
and Avila. Strife within the Order holds up the founda- 
tions*) 



THE LIFE OF ST, TERESA xxxiii 

January i. Foundation of Convent at Caravaca (12) during her 
stay in Seville (LL 92). 

(March. P. Jeronimo Tostado arrives in Spain armed with 
powers from P. Rubeo to suppress certain Discalced founda- 
tions and to take other measures against the Reform.) 

April 5. Agreement for the new house at Seville signed. 

(May 12. Provincial Chapter of the Observance, held at La 
Moraleja, takes stern measures against the Reform.) 

May 28. Ceremony of the inauguration of the new house at 
Seville. 

June 4. Leaves Seville for Toledo, via Almodovar del Campo 
and Malagon. Arrives at Malagon on June 1 1 (LL 95) and 
stays for at least a week (LL 96) . Is in Toledo before June 
30 (LL 97). 

(August 8. P. Gracian meets the Superiors of the Reform at 
Almodovar: they refuse to accept the decisions of the 
Moraleja Chapter.) 

June-November. Continues Foundations. 

November 14. Completes Chapter XJCVII of Foundations (See 
penultimate paragraph of that chapter) . 

1577 

June 2. Begins Interior Castle. 

(June 1 8. Death of the Nuncio Ormaneto.) 

July. Goes from Toledo to Avila to arrange for the transference 
of St. Joseph's from the jurisdiction of the Ordinary to that 
of the Carmelite Order. Interruption of her work on Interior 
Castle (I.C. V, iv). 

(August 30, Arrival in Spain of the new Nuncio, Sega.) 

September 18. Writes to Philip II on behalf of P. Gracian and 
of the Reform (LL 195). 

October. Violent scenes at the election of a Prioress at the 
Incarnation, Avila. Nuns voting for St. Teresa are excom- 
municated. Ana de Toledo chosen (LL 197-8, cf. 205-7). 



xxxiv THE LIFE OF ST. TERESA 

(November 5. Royal Council opposes the policy of Tostado, who 
leaves for Rome.) 

November 29. Finishes Interior Castle. 

(December 3. St. John of the Gross and a companion are carried 
off and imprisoned, at Toledo and La Moraleja respectively, 
by the friars of the Observance (LL 204, 219, 246-7). 

December 4. 1 St. Teresa complains of this act to Philip II 
(LL 204). 

December 24. Falls and breaks her left arm. 

1578 

(Persecution of the Reform continues throughout this year: 
LL 237 ff. St. Teresa is in Avila). 

(September 4. Death of P. Rubeo at Rome: LL 253). 

(October 9. Chapter-General of the Discalced held at 
Almodovar.) 

(October 16. Sega puts the Discalced under the jurisdiction of 
the Observance.) 

1579 

(April i. Discalced removed from jurisdiction of the Obser- 
vance : P. Angel de Salazar becomes their Superior.) 

(May.* PP. Juan de Jesiis (Roca) and Diego de la Trinidad 
leave for Rome, to attempt to effect the division of the 
Order: LL 273, 275.) P. Salazar authorizes St. Teresa to 
resume the visitation of her convents. 

June 25. Leaves Avila, with B. Ana de San Bartolome, for 
Medina (stays 3-4 days), Valladolid (July 3-30), Salamanca 
(about 2^ months) and Alba (a week). 

July. Sends the Way of perfection to the Archbishop of fivora 
(LL 285). 

November (early). Returns to Avila, 

November. Goes to Toledo (mid-November: LL 291) and 
Malagon; arrives at Malagon, November 25; is there when 
(December 8) the community moves into its new house 
(LL 295). Stays till February 1580. 

1 Some authorities believe that, between December u and 17 of this year, St. 
Teresa had an interview with Philip II at El Escorial (Gf. P. Silverio, IX, 266). 



THE LIFE OF ST. TERESA xxxv 



1580 

February 13. Leaves Malagon for Villamieva de la Jara (LL 
307-83 313)3 arriving there February 21, after making stops 
at Toledo and La Roda. 

February 2 1 . Foundation of Convent at Villanueva de la Jara 
(13). 

March 20. Leaves Villanueva de la Jara. 

March 26. Arrives at Toledo. On March 31 (LL 314) has a 
paralytic stroke. Asks the Archbishop of Toledo for a licence 
to make a foundation in Madrid : the request is not granted 
(LL 323). 

June 7. Though still unwell, leaves for Madrid and Segovia. 
Reaches Segovia on June 15. While there, learns of the death 
(June 26) of her brother Lorenzo (LL 325-63 342). Goes 
(July 6) from Segovia to Avila, to settle his business affairs 
(LL 328). At Segovia, revises the Interior Castle in collabora- 
tion with P. Gracian and P. Yanguas. (Vol. II, p. 194, 
below) . 

(June 22. The Discalced Reform is recognized as a separate 
province by a Bull of Gregory XIII.) 

August (early). Goes on from Avila to Medina del Campo and 
(August 8) Valladolid where she is to see the Bishop about 
the projected foundation in his diocese. At Valladolid has 
a recurrence of the Toledo complaint and becomes danger- 
ously ill (LL 336). 

December 28. Leaves Valladolid for Palencia (LL 344). 

December 29. Foundation of Convent at Palencia (14) (LL 
344). 

1581 

(March 3. Separation of Calced and Discalced Carmelites 
becomes operative at Chapter of Alcala de Henares: cf. 
LL 350-4. P. Gracian appointed Provincial of the Discalced.) 

June 2. Arrives at Soria, after spending the night of May 31 
at Burgo de Osma (F XXX). 

(June i. The Palencia community moves to its new house.) 



xxxvi THE LIFE OF ST. TERESA 

June 14. Foundation of Convent at Sona (15). (Cf. F XXX, 
Vol. Ill, p. 1 80, n. 3, below.) 

August 1 6. Leaves for St. Joseph's, Avila, via Burgo de Osma, 
Segovia (August 23-30: LL 376), Villacastin (September 4: 
LL 377). 

September 5. Arrives at Avila (LL 378). 
September 10. Elected Prioress of St. Joseph's, Avila. 



January 2. Leaves for Burgos, via Medina del Gampo (January 
4-9), Valladolid (staying four days through illness: LL 
404) and Palencia (arrives January 16), arriving at Burgos on 
January 26. 

January 20. Foundation of Convent at Granada (16) in St. 
Teresa's absence. 

April 19. Foundation of Convent at Burgos (17). 

^ 

(July) Completes Foundations (F XXXI was being written at 
"the end of June": Vol. Ill, p. 191, n. 2, below). 

July 26. Leaves Burgos for Avila, with B. Ana de San Bartolome 
and her niece Teresita. Visits Palencia (in August), Valla- 
dolid (again ill: leaves on September 15), Medina del 
Campo (September 16) and villages near Penaranda. 
Though ill, goes to Alba de Tonnes at the command of 
the Provincial, Fray Antonio de Jesiis, to visit the Duchess 
of Alba. 

September 20. Arrives at Alba de Tonnes. 
October 4. Dies at Alba de Tormes. 
1614: April 24. Beatified by Paul V. 

1617. Spanish Cortes votes her patroness of Spain. The vote not 
confirmed. 

1622: March 12, Canonized by Gregory XV with SS. Isidro, 
Ignatius of Loyola and Francis Xavier. 

1726. Benedict XIII institutes the Feast of the Transverberation 
of her Heart. 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION TO THE WORKS OF 
ST. TERESA 

Nearly four centuries have passed since St. Teresa began to 
write, and, both in her own country and abroad, her fame is 
still widespread and still growing. Her purely human qualities 
and gifts, the saintliness of her life by which they were illumined 
and overshadowed, the naturalness and candour of her manner 
and style these are some of the reasons why her name is not 
only graven upon the enduring marble of history but taken 
on the lips of generation after generation with reverence and 
love. 

She is a mystic and more than a mystic. Her works, it is true, 
are well known in the cloister and have served as nourishment 
to many who are far advanced on the Way of Perfection, and who, 
without her aid, would still be beginners in the life of prayer. 
Yet they have also entered the homes of millions living in the 
world and have brought consolation, assurance, hope and strength 
to souls who, in the technical sense, know nothing of the life of 
contemplation. Devoting herself, as she did, with the most 
wonderful persistence and tenacity, to the sublimest task given 
to man the attempt to guide others toward perfection she 
succeeded so well in that task that she is respected everywhere 
as an incredibly gifted teacher, who has revealed, more perhaps 
than any who came before her, the nature and extent of those 
gifts which the Lord has laid up in this life for those who love 
Him. In past ages, of course, there had been many writers 
kindled with Divine love to whom He had manifested His in- 
effable secrets, but for the most part these secrets had gone down 
with them to the grave. To St. Teresa it was given to speak to 
the world, in her diaphanous, colloquial language and her simple, 
unaffected style, of the work of the Holy Spirit in the enamoured 
soul, of the interior strife and the continual purgation through 
which such a soul must pass in its ascent of Mount Carmel and 
of the wonders which await it on the mountain's summit. 

So she leads the soul from the most rudimentary stages of the 
Purgative Way to the very heights of Union, bringing it into the 
innermost mansion of the Interior Castle, where, undisturbed 
by the foes that rage without, it can have fruition of union with 
the Lord of that Castle and experience a foretaste of the Beatific 
Vision of the life to come. But, despite the loftiness and sub- 
limity of these themes, she is able to develop them without ever 

xxxvii 



xxxviii GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

losing the most attractive of her qualities as a writer simplicity. 
Continually she finds ready to hand apt and graphic comparisons, 
intelligible even to the unlearned. No mystical writer before her 
day, from the pseudo-Dionysius to Ruysbroeck, nor any who has 
written since, has described such high matters in a way so apt, 
so natural and to such a large extent within the reach of all. The 
publication of her treatises inaugurated for the mystics an epoch 
of what may almost be termed popularity. Those who love the 
pages of the Gospels, and whose aim in life is to attain the Gospel 
ideal of Christian perfection, have found in her works other pages 
in which, without any great effort of the intellect, they may learn 
much concerning the way. Her practical insistence upon the 
virtuous life, her faithfulness to the Evangelical counsels and the 
soundness of her doctrine even in the most obscure and recondite 
details all these will commend her to them. Many, indeed, 
are the fervent lovers of Our Lord who have gone to the school 
of love kept by the Foundress of Avila. 

As a result, her works are read and re-read by Spaniards to 
this day and translated again and again into foreign languages. 
Probably no other book by a Spanish author is as widely 
known in Spain as the Life or the Interior Castle of St. Teresa, with 
the single exception of Cervantes' immortal Don Qyixote. It is 
surely amazing that a woman who lived in the sixteenth century, 
who never studied in the Schools or pored over tomes of pro- 
found learning, still less aspired to any kind or degree of renown, 
should have won such a reputation, both among scholars and 
among the people. We cannot expect to find the reason for this 
in the purely scientific or literary merits of her writings : we must 
look for it by going deeper. 

Essentially, her popularity has been due to Divine grace, which 
first inspired her to lay aside every aim but the quest for God and 
then enabled her to attain a degree of purity in her love for Him 
which sustained and impelled her. Before everything else it is the 
intense fervour of this love which speaks to lovers everywhere, just 
as it is the determination and courage of her virile soul which 
inspires those who long to be more determined and courageous 
than they are. But next to this, it is the purely human quality 
of her writings which makes so wide an appeal. Her methods 
of exposition are not rigidly logical but neither are the workings 
of the human heart. Her books have a gracioso desorden [Herrick's 
"sweet disorder"] which the ordinary reader finds attractive, 
even illuminating. Her disconnected observations, her revealing 
parentheses, her transpositions, ellipses and sudden suspensions 
of thought make her, in one sense, easier to read, even if, in 
another, they sometimes make her more difficult to interpret. 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION xxxix 

Even setting aside her lack of technical training as a writer, her 
robust and highly individual temperament would have led her 
into rebellion against academic mechanism of conventionality 
and style in language, had any attempt ever been made to force 
these upon her. Where she uses or imitates the phraseology of 
Holy Scripture she does so unconsciously. Often she never even 
re-read what she wrote; who that is not a professional writer, 
but just a man in the street, or a woman in the kitchen, can help 
loving her? 

Her books were written at the command of her confessors 
that is to say, under obedience. It seemed ridiculous to her that 
a person so imperfect and devoid of talent as herself and a 
woman into the bargain! could possibly write anything that 
would edify others. She was much better employed, she herself 
thought, at the spinning-wheel, and it irked her to leave such a 
profitable occupation as spinning to take up her pen. "For the 
love of God," she once exclaimed, when importuned to write, 
"let me work at my spinning-wheel and go to choir and perform 
the duties of the religious life, like the other sisters. I am not 
meant to write: I have neither the health nor the intelligence 
for it." 1 The following passage gives as vivid an idea as any of 
the spirit in which she wrote : 

The authority of persons so learned and serious as my 
confessors suffices for the approval of any good thing that I 
may say, if the Lord gives me grace to say it, in which case it 
will not be mine but His ; for I have no learning, nor have I led a 
good life, nor do I get my information from a learned man or 
from any other person whatsoever. Only those who have 
commanded me to write this know that I am doing so, and 
at the moment they are not here. I am almost stealing the 
time for writing, and that with great difficulty, for it hinders 
me from spinning and I am living in a poor house and have 
numerous things to do. 2 

But, even had she left no such personal testimony, her writings 
would have shown how little she trusted for inspiration to her 
reading and how completely devoid she was of any constructional 
instinct or sense of literary proportion. Her ideas and sentiments 
spring spontaneously to her mind and spirit. Her pen runs freely 
sometimes too freely for her mind to keep pace with it. Her 
memory, as she frequently confesses, is poor and her few quotations 

X jer6mmo Graoan: Lvddano del verdadero espintu, .Chap. V. She did, however, 
eventually wnte the book she was asked for: it was the Interior Castle. 
*Life, Chap. X [p. 61, below]. 



xl GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

are seldom entirely accurate. But she is, without the slightest 
doubt, a born writer; and, when a person belonging to that rare 
and fortunate class knows nothing of artifice, casts aside convention, 
and writes as the spirit dictates, the result can never be dis- 
appointing. 

Mysticism, furthermore, is in part an experimental science; 
and he who has the profoundest and most continuous, exper- 
iences of Divine grace is the best qualified to speak of them. St. 
Teresa is remarkable both for the intensity and for the con- 
tinuity of her mystical experiences, and she had a quickness of 
mind, a readiness of expression and a wealth of imagination 
which particularly well fitted her for describing them. Her 
descriptions are incomparably more vivid and intelligible than 
those of many professed students of mystical theology who have 
grown grey in the study of it. This superiority much more than 
compensates for any of her stylistic idiosyncrasies which may 
scandalize the literary preceptist. Had she not boldly snapped 
asunder the bonds of logic and litel-ary rule, she would have 
been powerless to take wing and give us those finest of passages 
which describe the summit of Mount Carmel. We should have 
gained one more methodical writer aspiring to a "golden 
mediocrity" but we should have lost work of a sublime beauty 
bearing the ineffaceable hall-mark of genius. 

But in any case she could never have written impeccable 
manuals or methodically ordered "guides" to the ascetic or the 
mystical life: her genius resembles the rushing torrent, not the 
scientifically constructed canal. She cannot even be said to 
separate asceticism from mysticism: the Way of perfection is an 
ascetic treatise which mystical ideas are constantly invading; 
while the Interior Castle, though fundamentally mystical, does not 
hesitate to lay down and develop ascetic principles. Here, 
again, she conforms, not so much to what is logical as to what 
is natural and human. Any divisions which she makes and 
adheres to are those made by nature and observable in life. By 
any and every test, she is a writer to be read by the many, by 
the people. 

If obedience was St. Teresa's primary motive for writing, a 
secondary motive was to give an accurate and detailed account 
of her spiritual progress, as in the Life, or, as in most of her other 
books, to guide her spiritual daughters. 

The seventeenth-century Carmelite, Fray Jer6nimo de San 
Jose, a historian of the Discalced Reform and author of one 
of the earliest biographies of St. John of the Cross, makes the 
following enumeration of her writings: 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION xli 

Our Mother St. Teresa wrote five books and seven opuscules. 
The books are : The Book of her Life, The Way of perfection, The 
Mansions,' 1 The Foundations and Meditations on the Songs. The 
opuscules are: Method for the visitation of her convents, Exclamations, 
Spiritual Maxims, Relations of her spirit, Favours granted her by the Lord, 
Devout verses which she composed^ Letters to different persons. So that, 
between books, opuscules and treatises, the number of books 
written by the Saint amounts in all to twelve. 2 

* 

In addition to these works, several more have been credited 
to St. Teresa, though hardly on sufficient evidence. From a 
reference in the Foundations to "a tiny little book" in which she 
"believed she said something about" melancholy, 8 it has been 
inferred that a book of hers on this subject has been lost : the re- 
ference, however, might well be to the Way of perfection, which says 
a good deal about this, and, though the Way of perfection might 
hardly be thought "tiny", she refers to it elsewhere as "little" by 
contrast with her considerably larger Life. 

Another book, which certainly exists, was thought to be the 
work of St. Teresa as long ago as 1630, when it was included by 
Baltasar Moreto in an edition of her works published in that year 
at Antwerp. The only reason for its inclusion appears to have 
been that it was found among some papers which had belonged 
to her, and afterwards became the property of Dona Isabel de 
Avellaneda, wife of Don Inigo de Cardenas, President of the 
Council of Castile. Its title is Seven Meditations on the Paternoster. 
It is a pious commentary on the Lord's Prayer, the seven petitions 
of which are treated as meditations, each intended to be read on a 
different day of the week, under the headings : Father, King, 
Spouse, Shepherd, Redeemer, Physician, Judge. The author was 
both a learned and a spiritually-minded person, well versed in 
Holy Scripture- and with a decided literary bent. The most 
superficial examination reveals it to be clearly non-Teresan. Its 
style is quite unlike that of the Saint and it bears the marks of a 
careful revision entirely foreign to her habits and character. 
Her earliest biographers make no mention of it and her Order 
has never believed it to be hers. "I consider it quite certain that 
the treatise is not by our Holy Mother," says P. Jer6nimo de San 
Jose, and gives the fullest reasons for his opinion. 4 "All who read 
it carefully," he adds, "and even those who read it without great 
care, will think likewise." 

1 [This is the title nearly always given in Spanish to the Interior Castle."] 

2 Htstond del Carmen Descalzo, Bk. V, Chap. XIII. 

* Foundations, Chap. VII (Vol. Ill, p. 36, n.a, below). 
4 Quoted in full bv P. Silveno, I, bax. 



xlii GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

P. Ribera, St. Teresa's first biographer, and a particularly 
conscientious one, tells us that, when very young, in collaboration 
with her brother Rodrigo, she wrote a book on chivalry. "She 
had so excellent a wit, and had so well absorbed the language 
and style of chivalry, that in the space of a few months she and 
her brother Rodrigo composed a book of adventures and fictions 
on that subject, which was such that it attracted a great deal of 
comment." 1 This story is confirmed by Gracian in his notes 
to Ribera's book and has been frequently repeated and taken as 
accurate by later writers. There would be nothing intrinsically 
improbable in the idea that a writer with the initiative and 
imagination of St. Teresa, who, we know (for she tells us herself 
in great detail) 2 , was attracted in her youth by romances of the 
Amadis type, should try to produce something of the sort herself 
by way of recreation, and we may be sure that, if she did so, the 
book in question would be well worth reading. P. Andres de la 
Encarnacion, an eighteenth-century editor and critic of St. John 
of the Cross, 3 took the suggestion very seriously, and debated 
where the book was to be found, and whether or no, supposing 
it were found, it ought to be published. 4 For ourselves, we suspect 
that, if it was ever written at all, it was soon destroyed by its own 
authors, either because of the nature of its contents or for fear 
that it would fall into the hands of their father, the austere Don 
Alonso, who for such an indiscretion would no doubt have meted 
out anything but a reward. 

By great good fortune, the originals of nearly all St. Teresa's 
principal works have come down to us, together with those of a 
fair number of her letters and some account books bearing her 
signature. This fortune we owe to the great esteem shown for St. 
Teresa and her Reform by King Philip II, who, when collecting 
books and manuscripts for the library which he proposed to 
establish in his newly built palace-monastery at El Escorial, 
asked P. Doria (Fray Nicolds de Jesiis Maria), 6 at that time 
Vicar-General of the Discalced Carmelites, if he could obtain 
for him any of St. Teresa's autographs. As a result, four of these 
are now to be found in the Escorial Library: namely, the Life, 
the Way of perfection, the Foundations and the Method for the visitation 
of her convents. The autograph of the Interior Castle is preserved in 
die Discalced Carmelite convent at Seville, and a second auto- 
graph of the Way of perfection, to be referred to later, has long been in 
the possession of the convent of the Discalced nuns at Valladolid. 

1 Ribera, Bk. I, Chap. V. 

*Life, Chap. II (p. 13, below). 

3 [St. John of the Cross, I, hv ff, et passim ] 

4 B. Nac. MS. 3180, Adiciones E , Nos. 13, 14. 

5 [Cf. SSM., II, 155-6] 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION xliii 

As a considerable number of facsimile reproductions of these 
manuscripts have been published, the careful study of the Teresan 
writings in their original state has been brought within the reach 
of all who are qualified to undertake it. 

Needless to say, a great many copies of the Saint's writings 
were made very soon after her death, and, needless to say, too, 
these copies contained numerous errors. To put an end to this 
circulation of defective versions of their Mother Foundress' 
works, the Discalced Carmelites took steps towards the prepar- 
ation of a complete edition. A beginning had been made with 
their publication even in her own lifetime. A great friend of hers, 
Don Teutonic de Braganza, Archbishop of fivora, undertook to 
bring out an edition of the Maxims and Way of perfection, based 
upon a corrected manuscript (still extant) which she herself sent 
him, in 1579: this was approved by the ecclesiastical censor in 
1580 and published at fivora in 1583. At Salamanca, in 1585, 
P. Gracian (Fray Jer6nimo de la Madre de Dios) 1 at that time 
Provincial of the Reform, re-published the Way of perfection., 
which no doubt was given precedence over the other works on 
account of its practical utility in the training of religious. An 
impetus must have been given to these activities by St. John of the 
Cross, who, just about this time, wrote as follows in the com- 
mentary to his Spiritual Canticle 9 . 

But since my intent is but to expound these stanzas briefly, 
as I promised in the prologue, these other things must remain 
for such as can treat them better than I. And I pass over the 
subject likewise because the Blessed Teresa of Jesus, our mother, 
left notes admirably written upon these things of the spirit, 
the which notes I hope in God will speedily be printed and 
brought to light. 2 

St. John of the Cross was in fact present at the meeting of the 
General Chapter in 1586 which decided to publish the Saint's 
complete works. The editorship was entrusted, not to a Car- 
melite, but to an Augustinian one of the leading men of letters 
in Spain, the Salamancan professor Fray Luis de Leon. The 
volume, of over a thousand octavo pages, was published at 
Salamanca in 1588, and includes the following works, printed 
in the order here given: Book of her life; some of the Relations; 
Way of perfection; Maxims; Interior Castle; Exclamations. The 
principal omission, it will be observed, is the Foundations: so many 
of the people mentioned in it were still living that its publication 
was thought to be premature. 

1 [S S.M., II, 151-89 ] * [St. John of the Cross, II, 72.! 



xliv GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

On the whole, as one would expect of an editor who, besides 
being himself an author, had had a lifetime of academic exper- 
ience, Fray Luis de Le6n acquitted himself remarkably well. 
The edition has some omissions and variant readings of such 
length or importance that they can hardly have been due to 
accident, besides a considerable number of errata, notably in 
punctuation and, owing to St. Teresa's often compressed and 
elliptical style, a misplaced comma is sometimes enough to alter 
the sense of an entire passage. None the less, judged by the stand- 
ards of its day, the edition is a distinctly good one. 

It was reprinted, at the same press, in the following year, 
after which date further editions came quickly. The works, 
in a more or less complete state, were published at Saragossa 
in 1592; at Madrid, in 1597 and 1615; at Naples, in 1604; at 
Brussels, in 1604; at Brussels, in 1610; at Valencia, in 1613 and 
1623. The Brussels edition was the first to include the Foundations. 
The editio princeps was reprinted at Madrid in 1622 and 1627 
and at Saragossa in 1623. -"- n 1 Z> at Antwerp, Baltasar Moreto 
published an edition already referred to as including the apocry- 
phal Seven Meditations. A single- volume edition, in 1635, an< ^ a 
two-volume edition, in 1636, came out in Madrid. 

This rapidly increasing circulation of St. Teresa's works, 
however, was not altogether welcomed by her Order, for the 
printers' errors in each edition were handed down to jthe next, 
often with considerable additions, while undue liberties were some- 
times taken with the text by editors less conscientious than Fray 
Luis de Leon. It was in about 1645 ^ at P- Francisco de Santa 
Maria, the historian of the Discalced Reform, obtained permission 
from his superiors for a new collation of the printed works and 
the autographs, with a view to the preparation of a more reliable 
edition than any yet published. The collation was entrusted 
to a number of friars and the new edition the second which 
may be described as "official" was eventually published in 
Madrid in 1661. 

We need not follow through the centuries the long tale of 
editions of the Saint's works still less enumerate the editions 
of individual works which will be referred to later in the intro- 
ductions to each. It must suffice, in this brief survey, to remark 
on the continuity with which St. Teresa was read even during 
the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, when mysticism 
was little in favour, and to mention a few of the editions which 
may be considered of outstanding interest. 

In the mid-eighteenth century, the Order determined upon 
still another "official" edition and entrusted the work of preparing 
one to that excellent critic already referred to, P. Andres de la 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION xlv 

Encarnacion, who enlisted the aid of a competent palaeographer, 
a companion worthy of himself, P. Manuel de Santa Maria. 
The results of their researches, both on St. Teresa and on St. 
John of the Gross, remained in manuscript; and the three 
volumes of Memorias historiales, in the National Library of Spain, 
at Madrid, are a major source for critical work on the Reformers 
of Garmel. As many of the archives which the two Fathers used 
are no longer in existence, their work has preserved much that 
would otherwise have been irretrievably lost, including part of 
the magnificent collection which we have of Teresan letters. 
In their work upon the texts, they detected more than seven 
hundred errors in the Life of 1627 and twelve hundred in Moreto's 
edition of the Foundations. It is a pity that the Order found the 
task of publishing a new edition too much for it and was content 
to reprint, in 1778, an edition of 1752, adding to it a volume 
containing eighty-two previously unpublished letters. In 1793 
appeared another edition, which included a further volume of 
Letters and eighty-seven fragments, and was the last to be published 
by the Order for a hundred and twenty years. Not until 1851, 
when the religious persecutions of the early years of the nine- 
teenth century were over, was this edition reprinted, and ten 
years later came the edition of Don Vicente de la Fuente, which 
forms part of the monumental series of Spanish classics known 
as the "Biblioteca de Autores Espanoles." 

The strides made in Spain, during the last half-century, by 
Teresan criticism, and indeed by Spanish criticism in general, 
make it possible for Spaniards to look back from a great distance 
at the work of La Fuente, both here and in his later six-volume 
edition of 1881, and find in it faults of many kinds: innumerable 
textual errors, frequent inaccuracies of fact, exaggerations in 
judgment and an undue dogmatism of tone. This Aragonese 
editor, though learned and devout in a high degree, had the 
temperamental bluntness and stubbornness traditionally 
associated with Aragon, and from this his work frequently 
suffered. None the less, his edition remained unsuperseded for 
over half a century until, in fact, in the year of the quater- 
centenary of St. Teresa's birth, appeared the first volume of the 
definitive Carmelite edition [which we owe to the indefatigable 
P. Silverio de Santa Teresa.] 

[This edition, consisting of nine volumes (1915-24) of which 
the last three comprise the largest collection yet made of the 
Saint's letters four hundred and fifty in all concentrated 
upon the preparation of as correct as possible a text, using the 
autographs, or photostats of them, where previous editors had 
relied on copies. The notes to the text, which are not the strongest 



xlvi GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

point of the edition, are brief and in the main factual, though 
occasionally they sin through the discursiveness which P. Silverio 
seldom for long avoids. A welcome feature was the inclusion 
of many newly discovered letters for, while the sacking of 
religious houses during the nineteenth century had led to much 
destruction, it had also brought to light a good deal that had 
previously been unknown. P. Silverio's appendices contain 
numerous hitherto unpublished documents, many of them of 
capital importance for an intimate knowledge of St. Teresa's 
life.] 

[The foregoing notes bear witness of the most practical kind 
to the continuous popularity which St. Teresa has enjoyed in 
her own country since the time of her death, while, at the end of 
the third volume of this edition, will be found a select biblio- 
graphy of commentaries, biographies and translations of her 
works into foreign languages which will testify to the extent to 
which she has been read abroad. In our own country it was 
her Life which at first chiefly attracted translators : the Antwerp 
translations of the Jesuit William Malone appeared as early 
as 1611; twelve years later, Sir Tobias Mathew's version, known 
as The Flaming Hart, was published in London, a second edition 
appearing at Antwerp in 1642; while the Life and Foundations 
were published by Abraham Woodhead in 1669-71, and a third 
volume, containing nearly all the remaining works, came out 
in 1675. After this nearly two centuries elapsed before the 
Saint began to be widely read once more, but since Dalton, 
with his new translation of the Life. (1851), led the revival, 
interest in her has never ceased. Dalton's Way of perfection and 
Interior Castle (1852), Foundations (1853) and small selection of 
Letters (1853) were followed by the Life (1870) and Foundations 
(1871) in the translation of David Lewis: the Life, still leading 
the other works in popularity, went into four editions. The 
mantle of Lewis fell upon the shoulders of a Benedictine nun 
of Stanbrook Abbey, and the editions of the Benedictines of 
Stanbrook, already referred to, and notably their versions of 
the Way of perfection and the Interior Castle and their four-volume 
edition of the Letters (1919-24), have perhaps done more than 
any others to give St. Teresa a place in our spiritual life com- 
parable to that which she holds in Spain. Finally we must 
not forget the valuable contributions made to our knowledge 
of the Saint and her times by the learned Carmelite, Father 
Zimmerman, whose revisions of, and introductions to, the Lewis 
and Stanbrook translations have so much enhanced their value. 
England, it will be seen, is not now behindhand in her apprecia- 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION xlvii 

tion of a Saint on whom one of her seventeenth-century poets 
wrote what is perhaps the finest panegyric in verse upon her in 
existence. 

O thou undanted daughter of desires! 

By all thy dowr of Lights and Fires; 

By all the eagle in thee, all the dove; 

By all thy lives and deaths of love; 

By thy larg draughts of intellectual! day, 

And by thy thirsts of love more large then they; 

By all thy brim-filPd Bowles of feirce desire; 

By thy last Morning's draught of liquid fire; 

By the full kingdome of that finall kisse 

That seiz'd thy parting Soul, and seal'd thee his; 

By all the heavn's thou hast in him 

(Fair sister of the Seraphim!); 

By all of Him we have in Thee; 

Leave nothing of my Self in me. 

Let me so read thy life, that I 

Unto all life of mine may dy. 1 ] 



The translator, who, in the main, has followed P. Silverio 
in the order in which he has arranged St. Teresa's worlds, begs 
leave to append a note, adapted from P. Silverio, upon the 
principles underlying this arrangement. 

He begins with the Saint's earliest and fundamental work, 
her Life (1562-5), which is followed by a shorter work closely 
connected with it in spirit, and hence forming a natural com- 
plement to it the Relations. It might be thought that the Life 
should rather have been followed by the autobiographical 
Foundations, but it must be remembered that the Life is an auto- 
biography primarily in the spiritual sense a history of the 
manifestations of Divine grace in the writer's soul whereas 
the Foundations is mainly a record of practical achievements 
and is related as closely with the history of the Order as with 
the life of the Saint. 

After the Life and the Relations comes the Way of perfection 
(c. 1565), written under obedience, as we have seen, for the edifi- 
cation of the nuns of the Saint's first foundation St. Joseph's, 
Avila and based upon her own meditations on the Lord's 
Prayer. Since the Life contained so much intimate detail it was 

x ["The Flaming Hart" ("Upon the book and picture of the seraphicall St. 
Teresa").] 



xlviii GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

thought unsuitable for publication until after its author's death, 
and the Way of perfection was written, in one sense, to supply 
its place. Next conies the Interior Castle (1577), more mature 
and more intensely mystical than its two predecessors. These 
three works, taken together, may be thought of as a complete 
exposition of the ascetic and mystical system of St. Teresa. As 
closely connected with the Interior Castle in its nature and spirit 
as are the Relations with the Life are the Conceptions of the Love oj 
God, and the Exclamations of the Soul to God, the two loveliest of 
St. Teresa's opuscules, both of them from beginning to end 
aglow with mystical love. 

Following these, as standing outside their sphere and (despite 
some fine and noble passages) on a lower plane, comes the 
Foundations (1573 ff.}, the last of the four major works, and, follow- 
ing these, we give the minor works, with the poems appropriately 
coming last, as it is in verse that St. Teresa is least noteworthy. 



THE LIFE OF THE HOLY MOTHER 
TERESA OF JESUS 

INTRODUCTION 

Like all servants of God to whom He has granted special 
Braces, St. Teresa, when led by unfamiliar paths, had continual 
nisgivings lest she should be suffering from demoniacal delusions. 
These misgivings she frequently revealed to her spiritual 
iirectors, keeping nothing back from them but opening her soul 
/vith exemplary simplicity and humility, especially when what 
he had to tell was to her own disadvantage. Some of her con- 
essors, so as the better to form judgments on matters of such 
extreme difficulty, ordered her to write an account of the graces 
.hat she was receiving from God, more particularly of the graces 
riven her in prayer, and to record anything further which might 
acilitate the understanding of them. 

Such was the origin of this admirable autobiography, which, 
or the naturalness with which it is written, for the profundity 
md detail of its psychological analysis and for the sublimity 
Df the spiritual mysteries which it unfolds, is worthy of a place 
beside the Confessions of St. Augustine. 

The first part of the book (Chaps. I-X) is autobiographical 
n the ordinary sense of the word: it describes the author's 
Darentage, early life and education, the interior conflicts which 
jhe had to endure before embracing religion, the alternating 
ukewarmness and fervour of her life at the Convent of the 
Incarnation, in Avila, and finally the crisis which ended in her 
resolve to seek perfection and walk in the way of prayer. There 
then follows a parenthetical section (Chaps. XI-XXVII) 1 which 
describes the contemplative life under the figure of the Four 
Waters, each of which corresponds to one stage of spiritual 
progress. Only at the end of these seventeen chapters does St. 
Teresa return to her own life, in order to describe (Chaps. 
XXVIII-XL) the surpassing favours which the Lord granted 
tier and the spiritual trials in which she was so greatly helped by 
the Franciscan St. Peter of Alcantara. 2 Into this part of the 
book is introduced her account of the foundation of the first 

1 [More properly this section may be considered as ending with Chap. XXII. 
* I will now return to the place where I left off the description of my life," says St. 
Teresa at the beginning of Chap. XXIII ; but she interpolates a further generalization 
on locutions, so the narrative is not quite continuous ] 

*[S-S.Af., II, 99-120.] 



2 LIFE 

convent of the Reform, St. Joseph's, Avila. The Life closes 
with a moving enumeration of the new favours which she is 
receiving from God and of the effects produced by them in her 
soul. Into the whole of this narrative are intercalated discreet 
counsels for confessors, tender colloquies with God, shrewd 
maxims for souls desirous of attaining perfection and ardent 
apostrophes to all Christian people. 

This is St. Teresa's most important treatise. Without it neither 
the Way of perfection nor the Interior Castle could be properly 
understood : she herself refers to it on several occasions as her 
"big book" (libro grande}. Only the superficial student, however, 
is content for long to think of these three works as separate. 
So closely united are they, so essentially complementary to each 
other, that it is easier to regard them as three parts of one great 
whole. 

Exactly when the Life was written it is by no means easy to 
determine. P. Domingo Banez, in a deposition made at Sala- 
manca, asserts that "she had written this book when I first 
came into contact with her ,and she wrote it with the leave of 
her previous confessors. . . . Afterwards she added to it and 
recast it ", 1 This first draft, of which no copy is known, though 
most of it, no doubt, was incorporated in the definitive version, 
was apparently concluded while she was staying with Dona 
Luisa de la Cerda at Toledo 2 [where she would, of course, have 
had much more leisure for writing than in the ordinary way]. 
At any rate, the note appended to the letter at the end of the 
book describes it as having been finished in June I56s, 3 and we 
know that she went to Toledo in January 1562 and stayed there 
for six months. 4 

At the end of 1562 [or possibly early in 1563, when the founda- 
tion of St. Joseph's had been completed, the resulting "com- 
motion" had ceased and her mind was once more at rest], the 
Saint began to rewrite the book, and, just as she had been ordered 
to write the first draft by P. ibanez, so, it appears, we owe 
the new version to the insistence of his fellow-Dominican P. 
Garcia de Toledo. The evidence for this [so far as it can be 
taken as referring to the Life as a whole] comes from St. Teresa 
herself, for in the preface to her Foundations she writes as follows : 

In the year 1562, when I was in the Convent of Saint Joseph, 
at Avila, which had been founded in that very year, I was 
commanded by the Dominican Father Fray Garcia de Toledo, 

1 Git. La Fuente* Escntos de Santa Teresa, Madnd, 1861, II, 377. 

2 Gf p. 23 2 3 below. 

3 Gf p. 300, below. 

4 Cf. p. 341, below. * ' 



INTRODUCTION 3 

who at that time was my confessor, to write an account of 
the foundation of that convent, and also of many other things, 
as anyone who reads the book, if it is ever published, will 
see. 1 

Further encouragement, according to Gracian, 2 came from the 
Inquisitor Francisco Soto, whom she met at Avila, from "other 
confessors who had given her the same command" and from "the 
requests of many of her friends". For greater clarity, the new 
version was divided into forty chapters. 

The work must have proceeded very slowly, for there are 
a number of indications that it was not finished until the very 
end of 1565. The following, in the approximate order in which 
they occur, are the most reliable of these 3 : 

1. "The twenty-eight years which have gone by since I 
began prayer" (Chap. VIII: p. 49). 

2. "The twenty-eight years and more that have gone by 
since I became (a nun)" (Chap. XXXVI: p. 252). 

3. "The twenty-seven years during which I have been 
practising prayer" (Chap. X: p. 62). 

4. "It is now, I believe, some five, or perhaps six, years 
since the Lord granted me this prayer [the Third Water] 
in abundance" (Chap. XVI: p. 96). 

5. Her first contact with the Society of Jesus took place 
"after almost twenty years' experience of prayer" (Chap. 
XXIII: p. 150). 

6. "I am not yet fifty" (Chap. XXXVII: p. 266). 

7. Mention of the death of P. Ibafiez (Chap. XXXVIII: 
p. 272. Cf. Chap. XXXIV, p. 238). 

8. Mention of the receipt of a Brief from Rome which was 
dated July 17, 1565 (Chap. XXXIX: p. 285). 

The first five of these references enable us to postulate and 
confirm an approximate date; the last three confirm, this further 
and help us to fix it more exactly. 

1-5. What St /Teresa means by "beginning prayer" is evident 
from No. 5. Despite the unflattering account which she gives 
of the state of her soul during her first years as a nun, she clearly 
takes the date of her profession as roughly the beginning of her 
life of prayer. Since we know that her relations with the Society 

1 [Vol. Ill, p. xxi, below. The command was given her in 1562 but the actual 
writing may not have been begun nil later.] 

2 Lucidono, etc., Part I, Chap. III. 

3 [Only Nos. 7 and 8 are 'given by P. Silveno and the discussion of them all is the 
translator's.] 



4 LIFE 

of Jesus began about 1557, this puts the earlier date at 1537, 
and Nos. i, 3 then prove that Chapters VIII and X were being 
written in 1564-5. The fact that the date of Chapter X is appar- 
ently a year earlier than that of Chapter VIII may mean that the 
earlier chapter was revised a second time after the later one had 
been written, or more likely, as the Saint revised her work 
but little, it may merely be a reminder to us that her figures can- 
not be implicitly relied upon. 

No. 2 supplies a check "on these calculations. If by "becoming 
a nun" she means "making her profession", Chapter XXXVI 
was also being written in 1565 j 1 if she means entering the convent, 
the date is 1564. In any case, the foregoing calculations seem 
definitely to put out of court the critics who attempt to date her 
profession 1535, or even earlier, as also does the reference in 
Chapter VIII to the "nearly twenty years on that stormy sea" 
which she spent before the intensification of her spiritual life, 
which we can date with fair accuracy at 1556-7. 

The evidence so far considered suggests that whatever delays 
occurred during the writing of the definitive Life took place 
during the years 1562-4, and that from the end of 1564 onwards 
the pace of composition was greatly accelerated. 

No. 6 proves that, if the Saint knew her own age (cf. p. 266, 
below), Chapter XXXVII was being written before March 28, 
1565, the day on which she was fifty. This is a little earlier than 
we should have expected and it is interesting that the evidence 
as to Chapter XXXVI may also point to a date slightly in advance 
of that suggested by other testimony. Can these two chapters 
be earlier than some which precede them? 

No. 7 means that Chapter XXXVIII was written after 
February 2, 1565. If very soon after, this and the preceding 
chapter may well have been written consecutively. 

No. 8 not only proves that Chapter XXXIX could not have 
been written before the late summer of 1565 (and there is nothing 
in the text to suggest that it was written immediately on receipt 
of the Brief) but indicates that, if this Brief took five months in 
getting from Rome to Avila as its predecessor did (p. 248, n.i, 
below}, it was probably written as late as December, or even 
early in the next year. 2 

1 But perhaps late in that year: note the "and more", which does not occur in the 
earlier passage. 

a [Tworeferences in Chap. XXIX, briefly discussed in footnotes to pp. 1 87, 1 89, below, 
seem to support the theory of a later rather than an earlier date within the limits 
we have laid down. If we assume the first imaginary vision to have occurred in 
1560 (p. xxvm) they indicate that Chap XXIX was written either in the late summer, 
or at the very end, of 1565. Of the references given in the text above, No 6 provides 
the only strong evidence against the supposition that the latter part of the book was not 
written till later in 1565 and not finished until early in 1566 1 



% INTRODUCTION 5 

Our general conclusions, then, will be that, though St. Teresa 
was commanded to write the Life in the latter part of 1562, 
she did comparatively little of it for some two years, and then 
worked more rapidly and intensively, writing most it during 
1565 and finishing it only at the very end of that year or early 
in 1566.] 

Having written the book, she endeavoured to submit it, as 
Soto had recommended her to do, to the scrutiny of the famous 
preacher and confessor Juan de Avila, 1 but was not immediately 
successful. A letter appended to the autograph manuscript of 
the Life tells us that the book had no sooner been completed 
("I had not finished reading through what I had written") 
than the recipient of the letter 2 asked for it; whereupon the 
author begged him to make any emendations in it which he 
thought weU and before sending it to P. Avila to have it copied. 
As at this time P. Banez, one of the Saint's two confessors, was 
professor of theology at the Dominican College of St. Thomas 
in Avila, it is not improbable that the two Fathers examined the 
manuscript together, which would no doubt mean a delay in 
sending it on as its author had asked. 

Her wish was apparently in part prompted by the fame of 
the great Apostle of Andalusia as a discerner of spirits and in 
part due to the recommendation of the Inquisitor Francisco 
Soto. That before sending him the book she had written to him 
asking him to give her his opinion on it we deduce from one of 
his own letters dated April 2 (probably 1568)3 which is still 
extant, and in which he says : 

I want you to set your mind at rest with regard to the 
examination of that matter (negocio), for, if such persons as 
these have seen it, you have done everything that is incumbent 
upon you. I really do not believe that I could point out 
anything which these Fathers have not pointed out already. 3 

But neither this assurance nor the approval given to the book 
by the two Dominican theologians could entirely satisfy its 
author; she therefore had recourse to her good friend Dona 
Luisa de la Cerda, whom Juan de Avila also knew and esteemed 

i[SSM. 9 II, 123-48.] 

2 Yepes asserts that this was P. Garcia de Toledo, a statement confirmed by docu- 
ments preserved in the Dominican College at Avila. P. Andres de la Encarnacion 
(Memorias kistoriales, N, No. 27) shares the view. P. Gracian, however (Lucidano, 
Part I, Chap. Ill), believes that the recipient was Francisco de Salcedo, M. Daza has 
also been suggested. 

8 [My translation. Another version will be found in Letters (St.), I, 41. (The heading 
there is incorrect, for Juan de Avila had not seen the manuscript when he wrote) ] 



6 LIFE 

highly. In May 1568 Dona Luisa apparently had the manuscript 
in her possession, for St. Teresa writes begging her to send 
it to him: "I cannot understand/' she says, "why Your 
Ladyship did not send it at once." 1 Nine days later, she is 
desperate : 

I believe it is the devil who is preventing Master Avila from 
seeing this thing (negocio] of mine. I should be sorry if he were 
to die first: that would be a great calamity. I beseech Your 
Ladyship, as you are so near, to send it him, sealed, by one 
of your own messengers. 2 

By June 23 it would appear that P. Avila has it, or is about to 
have it, as she asks Dona Luisa to see that it is sent back to her as 
quickly as possible, together with his written opinion on it. It 
was actually returned to her, with "a long letter" 3 containing 
only minor criticisms, in September. Still she was not satisfied, 
and the next to read it were PP. Martin Gutierrez and Jeronimo 
Ripalda, two priests of the Society of Jesus, the latter of whom 
urged her to write the history of her later foundations. 4 It was 
then read by Fray Bartolome de Medina, a Dominican who at 
one time had been highly critical of the Saint but was converted 
into one of her strongest supporters. 

And these were only the beginnings of the book's travels. 
Not merely religious, but secular clergy and lay-folk, wanted 
to see it or to show it to others; and soon a number of copies 
were in circulation, much to the disquiet both of the author 
and of P. Bafiez, who feared that not all its readers might be as 
prudent as these first. Banez, at one point, reproached St. Teresa 
for sending the book about too freely "although", he adds 
in his own account of the affair, "I realize that the fault was 
not hers". 5 

Some trouble did in fact occur with that imperious and self- 
willed lady, Dona Maria de Mendoza, Princess of boli, whose 
character will be revealed more clearly in the Saint's narrative 
of her own foundations. 6 Hearing of the book, about the summer 
of 1569, the Princess insisted upon its being lent her, and its 
author, though at first demurring to her importunity, had 
eventually to yield. The Princess promised her that the manu- 
script should be read only by herself and her husband, but, 

1 Letters, 5. Cf. Letters (St ), I, 18. 
* Letters, 6. Cf. Letters (St.), I, 23-4. 

3 Letters, 11 Cf Letters (St.), I, 39 

4 Cf Vol. Ill, p. xxii, below. 
6 Cit P. Stlveno, I, cxxiu. 

8 Foundations, Chap. XVII (VoL III, pp 79-85, below). 



INTRODUCTION 7 

whether by accident or by design, it got into the hands of the 
entire household, and soon its contents began to be widely 
known and its most intimate revelations to be scoffed at or 
denounced as fraud or delusion. 

About the chronology of what happened next there is some 
disagreement, but the sequence of the facts is fairly clear. After 
the Princess's husband died, she herself took the Discalced 
habit and caused a great commotion, as a result of which the 
Pastrana foundation, of which she had been the patroness, was 
moved to Segovia. 1 It is believed that St. Teresa's opposition 
to her conduct led the Princess to denounce the Life to the 
Inquisition: in any case, it was so denounced, and P. Banez, 
fearful for the result, made a few small emendations in the 
manuscript and then himself laid it before the Inquisitors. 
These events probably all took place in the years 1574-5. Another 
Dominican was charged with its official examination and his 
judgment f was wholly in its favour, but the Inquisitors retained 
the manuscript and Gracian advised Teresa to allow them to do 
so. When eventually application was made to them for it, they 
at once returned it and allowed it to be copied further and 
circulated among the communities of the Reform. 

As we have said, the autograph of the Life is now in the Library 
of El Escorial. On the second folio is the inscription (not by the 
author) : "Life of the Mother Teresa of Jesus, written by her own 
hand." The manuscript has no punctuation and few divisions 
into paragraphs but the writing is vigorous, clear and legible 
and there are hardly more than a dozen erasures. Some of these 
are the author's; some are by P. Banez; and some by a third 
person perhaps P. Avila [though P. Silverio is inclined to think 
not]. At the end of the manuscript is an autograph aprobacwn 
by P. Banez, dated July 7, 1575. 

P. Gracian had a number of copies made of the Life, but 
nearly all these have been lost. One of the oldest copies known, 
which is kept at El Escorial, was made by the Saint's niece 
Teresa, daughter of her brother Lorenzo, from the manuscript 
already referred to as having been held by the Inquisition. 
Another, preserved in the Discalced Carmelite convent at Sala- 
manca, is dated June 26, 1585 and was apparently made by a 
nun of the Reform' were the autograph not still in existence, 
it would be of the first importance. In the same convent there 
was 'formerly a copy of the editio princeps of St. Teresa's works, 
in which the pages containing the Life have some marginal notes 
in the handwriting of P. Gracian, referring principally to the 
i Cf. Vol. Ill, p. 85, below. 



8 LIFE 

identity of persons mentioned in the text. Since in some places 
he could have gained his information only from St. Teresa's 
own lips, these notes are of great value. The whereabouts of 
this book is now unknown, but, as the marginal notes were 
copied by P. Andres de la Encarnaci6n, this is of little moment. 
Some of these sources will be referred to in footnotes in the pages 
which follow. 



THE- LIFE OF THE HOLY MOTHER TERESA OF JESUS 

AND SOME OF THE FAVOURS GRANTED" TO HER BY GOD, DESCRIBED 
BY HERSELF AT THE COMMAND OF HER CONFESSOR, TO WHOM SHE 
SUBMITS AND ADDRESSES IT AS FOLLOWS. 1 

As I have been commanded and given full liberty to write 
about my way of prayer and the favours which the Lord has 
granted me, I wish I had also been allowed to describe clearly 
and in full detail my grave sins and wicked life. To do this would 
be a great comfort to me; but it has been willed otherwise in 
fact, I have been subjected to severe restrictions in the matter. 
So, for the love of the Lord, I beg anyone who reads this account 
of my life to bear in mind how wicked it has been so much so 
that, among all the saints who have been converted to God, 
I can find none whose life affords me any comfort. For I realize 
that, once the Lord had called them, they never offended Him 
again. I, however, became worse; and not only so, but I seem to 
have studied how to resist the favours which His Majesty granted 
me. I knew that I had the obligation to serve Him better, but 
realized that, of myself, I could not pay the least part of what I 
owed Him. 

May He Who waited so long for me be blessed for ever. I 
beseech Him with my whole heart to give me grace to 'write this 
account of my life, according to my confessors' command, with 
complete clarity and truthfulness. The Lord Himself, I know, 
has long wished it to be written but I have not presumed to 
write it. May it be to His glory and praise; and may it lead my 
confessors to know me better, so that they may help my weakness 
and I may be enabled to render the Lord some part of the service 
which I owe Him. May He be praised by all things for ever. 
Amen. 

1 This title is from the editio p*inceps. 



[CHAP. 



CHAPTER I 

Describes how the Lord began to awaken her soul in childhood to a love 
of virtue and what a help it is in this respect to have good parents. 

If I had not been so wicked it would have been a help to me 
that I had parents who were virtuous and feared God, and also 
that the Lord granted me His favour to make me good. My 
father 1 was fond of reading good books and had some in Spanish 
so that his children might read them too. These books, together 
with the care which my mother took to make us say our prayers 
and to lead us to be devoted to Our Lady and to certain saints, 
began to awaken good desires in me when I was, I suppose, 
about six or seven years old. It was a help to me that I never saw 
my parents inclined to anything but virtue. They themselves 
had many virtues. My father was a man of great charity towards 
the poor, who was good to the sick and also to his servants 
so much so that he could never be brought to keep slaves, because 
of his compassion for them. On one occasion, when he had a 
slave of a brother of his in the house, 2 he was as good to her as 
to his own children. He used to say that it caused him intolerable 
distress that she was not free. He was strictly truthful: nobody 
ever heard him swear or speak evil. He was a man of the most 
rigid chastity. 

My mother, too, was a very virtuous woman, who endured a 
life of great infirmity: she was also particularly chaste. Though 
extremely beautiful, she was never known to give any reason for 
supposing that she made the slightest account of her beauty; 
and, though she died at thirty-three, her dress was already 
that of a person advanced in years. She was a very tranquil 
woman, of great intelligence. Throughout her life she endured 
great trials and her death was most Christian. 3 

We were three sisters and nine brothers : all of them, by the 
goodness of God, resembled their parents in virtue, except myself, 
though I was my father's favourite. And, before I began to offend 

1 St. Teresa's father, Don Alonso Sanchez de Gepeda, was twice married By his 
first wife he had three children; by his second, Dona Beatriz Davila y Ahumada, nine. 
Of these nine, Rodngo and Teresa were respectively the second and the third, while 
Lorenzo, father of the Teresa who copied the Life (p 7, above) was the fourth. 
Both parents were well descended and the family was in comfortable circumstances, 
though not wealthy. 

2 At this time well-to-do families in Spain often kept as slaves Moors whose families 
had remained in the country after the Reconquest 

3 Dona Beatriz had married at fourteen, having been born in 1495, and died in 
1528. 



I] LIFE i] 

God, I think there was some reason for this, for it grieves me 
whenever I remember what good inclinations the Lord had giver 
me and how little I profited by them. My brothers and sisters 
never hindered me from serving God in any way. 

I had one brother almost of my own age. 1 It was he whom 
I most loved, though I had a great affection for them all, as had 
they for me. We used to read the lives of saints together; and. 
when I read of the martyrdoms suffered by saintly women for 
God's sake, I used to think they had purchased the fruition 
of God very cheaply; and I had a keen desire to die as they had 
done, not out of any love for God of which I was conscious, but 
in order to attain as quickly as possible to the fruition of the 
great blessings which, as I read, were laid up in Heaven. I 
used to discuss with this brother of mine how we could become 
martyrs. We agreed to go off to the country of the Moors, 
begging our bread for the love of God, so that they might behead 
us there; and, even at so tender an age, I believe the Lord had 
given us sufficient courage for this, if we could have found a 
way to do it; but our greatest hindrance seemed to be that we 
had a father and a mother. 2 It used to cause us great astonish- 
ment when we were told that both pain and glory would last 
for ever. We would spend long periods talking about this and we 
liked to repeat again and again, "For ever ever ever!" 
Through our frequent repetition of these words, it pleased the 
Lord that in my earliest years I should receive a lasting^mpression 
of the way of truth. 

When I saw that it was impossible for me to go to any place 
where they would put me to death for God's sake, we decided 
to become hermits, and we used to build hermitages, as well as 
we could, in an orchard which we had at home. We would 
make heaps of small stones, but they at once fell down again, 
so we found no way of accomplishing our desires. But even now 
it gives me a feeling of devotion to remember how early God 
granted me what I lost by my own fault. 

I gave alms as I could, which was but little. I tried to be alone 
when I said my prayers, and there were many such, in particular 
the rosary, to which my mother had a great devotion, and this 
made us devoted to them too. Whenever I played with other little 
girls, I used to love building convents and pretending that we 

1 The reference is almost certainly to Rodrigo, who was four years her senior. 
He emigrated to America in 1535 and died two years later fighting the Indians on 
the banks of the Rio de la Plata. On the incident in the text, see Yepes, Bk. I, 
Chap. II. 

8 Ribera (Bk. I, Chap. IV) describes the attempt as having actually been made. The 
children left Avila and "went on over the bridge, until they were met by an uncle 
who took them back home to their mother, greatly to her relief, for she had^been 
having them searched for everywhere with great anxiety". 



is LIFE [CHAP. 

were nuns; and I think I wanted to be a nun, though not so much 
as the other things I have described. 

I remember that, when my mother died, I was twelve years 
of age or a little less. 1 When I began to realize what I had lost, 
I went in my distress to an image of Our Lady 2 and with many 
tears besought her to be a mother to me. Though I did this in 
my simplicity, I believe it was of some avail to me; for whenever 
I have commended myself to this Sovereign Virgin I have 
been conscious of her aid ; and eventually she has brought me 
back to herself. It grieves me now when I observe and reflect 
how I did not keep sincerely to the good desires which I had 
begun. 

O my Lord, since it seems Thou art determined on my salvation 
and may it please Thy Majesty to save me ! and on granting 
me all the graces Thou hast bestowed on me already, why has 
it not seemed well to Thee, not for my advantage but for Thy 
honour, that this habitation wherein Thou hast had continually 
to dwell should not have become so greatly defiled? It grieves 
me, Lord, even to say this, since I know that the fault has been 
mine alone, for I believe there is nothing more Thou couldst 
have done, even from this early age, to make me wholly Thine. 
Nor, if I should feel inclined to complain of my parents, could 
I do so, for I saw nothing in them but every kind of good and 
anxiety for my welfare. But as I ceased to be a child and began 
to become aware of the natural graces which the Lord had given 
me, and which were said to be many, instead of giving Him 
thanks for them, as I should, I started to make use of them to 
offend Him. This I shall now explain. 



CHAPTER II 

Describes how these virtues were gradually lost and how important' it 
is in childhood to associate with people of virtue. 

What I shall now describe was, I think, something which began 
to do me great harm. I sometimes reflect how wrong it is of 
parents not to contrive that their children shall always, and in 
every way, see things which are good. My mother, as I have said, 

1 Actually, as we have seen, she was thirteen. Dona Beatriz made her will, shortly 
before her death, on November 24, 1528. 

2 Tradition has it that the image was one which is now m Avila Cathedral, and 
that Teresa and Rodrigo also* commended themselves to this Virgin before setting 
out to be martyred. Yearly, on October 15, a ceremony commemorating the event 
described in the text takes place in Avila. 



II] LIFE 13 

was very good herself, but, when I came to the age of reason, 

I copied her goodness very little, in fact hardly at all, and evil 

things did me a great deal of harm. She was fond of books of 

chivalry; and this pastime had not the ill effects on her that it 

had on me, because she never allowed them to interfere with her 

work. But we^were always trying to make time to read them; and 

she permitted this, perhaps in order to stop herself from thinking 

of the great trials she suffered, and to keep her children occupied 

so that in other respects they should not go astray. This annoyed 

my father so much that we had to be careful lest he should see 

us reading these books. For myself, I began to make a habit of 

it, and this little fault which I saw in my mother began to cool 

my good desires and lead me to other kinds of wrongdoing. 

I thought there was nothing wrong in my wasting many hours, 

by day 'and by night, in this useless occupation, even though I 

had to hide it from my father. So excessively was I absorbed in 

it that I believe, unless I had a new book, I was never happy. 

I began to deck myself out and to try to attract others by my 

appearance, taking great trouble with my hands and hair, 

using perfumes and all the vanities I could get and there were 

a good many of them, for I was very fastidious. There was 

nothing wrong with my intentions, for I should never have wanted 

anyone to offend God because of me. This great and excessive 

fastidiousness about personal appearance, together with other 

practices which I thought were in no way sinful, lasted for many 

years: I see now how wrong they must have been. I had some 

cousins, who were the only people allowed to enter my father's 

house: 1 he was very careful about this and I wish to God that 

he had been careful about my cousins too. For I now see the 

danger of intercourse, at an age when the virtues should be 

beginning to grow, with persons who, though ignorant of worldly 

vanity, arouse a desire for the world in others. These cousins 

were almost exactly of my own age or a little older than I. We 

always went about together; they were very fond of me; and I 

would keep our conversation on things that amused them and 

listen to the stories they told about their childish escapades and 

crazes, which were anything but edifying. What was worse, my 

soul began to incline to the thing that was the cause of all its 

trouble. 

If I had to advise parents, I should tell them to take great 
care about the people with whom their children associate at 

1 Don Alonso's brother, Don Francisco, had a house near his own, in the Plazuela de 
Santo Domingo, "where the seventeenth-century Discalced Carmelite monastery 
now stands. The cousins referred to were no doubt Don Francisco's children : he had 
at least four sons, as well as several daughters. 



14 LIFE [CHAP. 

such an age. Much harm may result from bad company and we 
are inclined by nature to follow what is worse rather than what 
is better. This was the case with me : I had a sister much older 
than myself, 1 from whom, though she was very good and chaste, 
I learned nothing, whereas from a relative whom we often had 
in the house I learned every kind of evil. This person was so 
frivolous in her conversation that my mother had tried very 
hard to prevent her from coming to the house, realizing what 
harm she might do me, but there were so many reasons for her 
coming that she was powerless. I became very fond of meeting 
this woman. I talked and gossiped with her frequently; she 
joined me in all my favourite pastimes; and she also introduced 
me to other pastimes and talked to me about all her conversations 
and vanities. Until I knew her (this was when I was about 
fourteen or perhaps more: by knowing her I mean becoming 
friendly with her and receiving her confidences) I do not think 
I had ever forsaken God by committing any mortal sin, or lost 
my fear of God, though I was much more concerned about my 
honour. 2 This last fear was strong enough to prevent me from 
forfeiting my honour altogether, and I cannot think that I would 
have acted differently about this for anything in the world; 
nor was there anyone in the world whom I loved enough to 
forfeit my honour for. So I might have had the strength 
not to sin against the honour of God, as my natural inclination 
led me not to go astray in anything which I thought concerned 
worldly honour, and I did not realize that I was forfeiting my 
honour in many other ways. 

I went to great extremes in my vain anxiety about this, though 
I took not the slightest trouble about what I must do to live a 
truly honourable life. All that I was seriously concerned about 
was that I should not be lost altogether. My father and sister 
were very sorry about this friendship of mine and often reproved 
me for it. But, as they could not prevent my friend from coming 
to the house, their efforts were of no avail, for when it came to 
doing anything wrong I was very clever. I am sometimes 
astonished at the harm which can be caused by bad company; 
if I had not experienced it I could not believe it. This is especially 
so when one is young, for it is then that the evil done is greatest. 
I wish parents would be warned by me and consider this very 
carefully. The result of my intercourse with this woman was to 

1 This was her half-sister, Dona Maria, her father's only daughter by his first wife. 

2 [The word konra, which St. Teresa uses in various senses good, bad and neutral 
I often render " reputation " or "good name", but in this context i e., of a girl of 
St. Teresa's age, living in the Spain of her day the translation "honour" does not 
seem too strong: indeed, the contrast which she makes between the two kinds of 
honra almost necessitates it] 



II] LIFE 15 

change me so much that I lost nearly all my soul's natural 
inclination to virtue, and was greatly influenced by her, and by 
another person who indulged in the same kinds of pastime. 

From this I have learned what great advantage comes from 
good companionship; and I am sure that if at that age I had 
been friendly with good people I should have remained sound 
in virtue. For, if at that time I had had anyone to teach me to 
fear God, my soul would have grown strong enough not to fall. 
Later, when the fear of God had entirely left me, I retained 
only this concern about my honour, which was a torture to me in 
everything that I did. When I thought that nobody would ever 
know, I was rash enough to do many things which were an 
offence both to my honour and to God. 

At first, I believe, these things did me harm. The fault, I 
think, was not my friend's but my own. For subsequently my 
own wickedness sufficed to lead me into sin, together with the 
servants we had, whom I found quite ready to encourage rne in 
all kinds of wrongdoing. Perhaps, if any of them had given me 
good advice, I might have profited by it; but they were as much 
blinded by their own interests as I was by desire. And yet I 
never felt the inclination to do much that was wrong, for I had a 
natural detestation of everything immodest and preferred passing 
the time t in good company. But, if an occasion of sin presented 
itself, the danger would be at hand and I should be exposing 
my father and brothers to it. From all this God delivered me, 
in such a way that, even against my own will, He seems to have 
contrived that I should not be lost, though this was not to come about 
so secretly as to prevent me from gravely damaging my reputation 
and arousing suspicions in my father. I could hardly have been 
following these vanities for three months when I was taken to a 
convent in the place where I lived, 1 in which children like myself, 
though less depraved in their habits than I, were being educated, 
The reason for this was- so carefully concealed that only one or 
two of my relatives and myself were aware of it. They had 
waited for an occasion to arise naturally; and now, as my sister 
had married, and I had no mother, I should have been alone in 
the house if I had not gone there, which would not have been 
fitting. 

So excessive was my father's love for me, and so complete was 
the deception which I practised on him, that he could never 
believe all the ill of me that I deserved and thus I never fell into 
disgrace with him. It had not been going on for long; and, 

1 This was the Augustinian convent of Our Lady of Grace, a foundation some 
twenty years old situated outside the city walls, which took girls from good families 
as boarders. 



1 6 LIFE [CHAP. 

although they had some idea of what I had been doing, nothing 
could have been said about it with any certainty. As I had such 
concern for my good name/ I had made the greatest efforts to 
keep it all secret, and I had not considered that it could not 
be kept secret from Him Who sees all things. O my God, what 
harm is done in the world by forgetfulness of this and by the 
belief that anything can be kept secret which is done against 
Thee! I am sure that much wrongdoing would be avoided if we 
realized that our business is to be on our guard, not against men, 
but against displeasing Thee. 

For the first week I suffered a great deal, though not so much 
from being in a convent as from the suspicion that everyone 
knew about my vanity. For I had already become tired of the life 
I had been leading; and even when I offended God I never ceased 
to be sorely afraid of Him and I tried to make my confessions 
as soon as possible after falling into sin. At first I was very restless; 
but within a week, perhaps even earlier, I was much happier than 
I had been in my father's house. All the nuns were pleased with 
me; for the Lord had given me grace, wherever I was, to please 
people, and so I became a great favourite. Although at that time 
I had the greatest possible aversion from being a nun, I was very 
pleased to see nuns who were so good; for in that house they were 
all very good completely blameless in their lives, devoted to 
their Rule and prudent in their behaviour. Yet in spite of this the 
devil did not cease tempting me and my friends outside tried to 
unsettle me by sending me messages. As that was not allowed, 
it soon came to an end, and my soul then began to return to the 
good habits of my earlier childhood and I realized what a great 
favour God does to those whom He places in the company of 
good people. It seems as if His Majesty was trying and trying 
again to find a way of bringing me back to Himself. Blessed be 
Thou, Lord, Who for so long h'ast suffered me! Amen. 

If my faults had not been so numerous, there is one thing 
which I think might have served as an excuse for them: that my 
intimacy with this person was of such a kind that I thought it 
might end satisfactorily on her marriage; 2 and both my con- 
fessor and other persons told me that in many respects I was not 



[J 

8 [St. Teresa's reference to this intimacy is so delicately vague that it is difficult 
for the translator not to express more /than she actually says. The interpretation 
here given to her words I have decided upon after some hesitation. Dissenting 
readers may choose between P. Gre"goire's "II s'agissait de relations qui semblaient 
pouvoir aboutir une alliance honorable pour moi", and Lewis's "The conversation 
I shared in was with one who, I thought, would do well in the estate of matrimony", 
the editor's footnote tnferring^that St. Teresa had " listened only to the story of her 
cousin's intended marriage". In default of other information I take the meaning 
to be that, as this woman was of marriageable (i e., mature) age, the writer assumed 



II] LIFE 17 

offending God. There was a nun who slept with those of us who 
were seculars and it was through her that the Lord seems to have 
been pleased to begin to give me light, as I shall now explain. 



CHAPTER III 

Describes how good companionship helped to awaken desires in her and the 
way in which the Lord began to give her light concerning the delusion 
under which she had been suffering. 

As I began to enjoy the good and holy conversation of this nun, 
I grew to delight in listening to her, for she spoke well about God 
and was very discreet and holy. There was never a time, I think, 
when I did not delight in listening to her words. She began to 
tell me how she had come to be a nun through merely reading 
those words in the Gospel: Many are called but few chosen. 1 
She used to describe to me the reward which the Lord gives to 
those who leave everything for His sake. This good companion- 
ship began to eradicate the habits which bad companionship had 
formed in me, to bring back my thoughts to desires for eternal 
things, and to remove some of the great dislike which I had for 
being a nun, and which had become deeply engrained in me. If 
I saw anyone weeping as she prayed, or giving evidence of any 
other virtues, I now greatly envied her; for my heart was so hard 
in this respect that, even if I read the entire narrative of the 
Passion, I could not shed a tear; and this distressed me. 

I remained in this convent for a year and a half, and was much 
the better for it. I began to say a great many vocal prayers and 
to get all the nuns to commend me to God and pray that He 
would bring me to the state in which I was to serve Him. But 
I was still anxious not to be a nun, for God had not as yet been 
pleased to give me this desire, although I was also afraid of marri- 
age. By the end of my time there, I was much more reconciled to 
being a nun though not in that house, because of the very 
virtuous practices which I had come to hear that they observed 
and which seemed to me altogether excessive. There were a few 
of the younger ones who encouraged me in this feeling; if all the 
nuns had been of one opinion, it would have been much better 



that she would soon marry and their intimacy would come to an end : all would then 
be well that ended well. This seems a much more natural interpretation than one 
which represents St. Teresa as predicting her own marriage.] 
1 St. Matthew xx, 16. 



i8 LIFE [CHAP. 

for me. I also had a close friend in another convent, 1 and this gave 
me the idea that, if I was to be a nun, I would go only to the house 
where she was. I thought more about pleasures of sense and vanity 
than of my soul's profit. These good thoughts about being a nun 
came to me from time to time but they soon left me and I could 
not persuade myself to become one. 

At this time, though I was not careless about my own im- 
provement, the Lord became more desirous of preparing me for 
the state of life which was best for me. He sent me a serious 
illness, which forced me to return to my father's house. When 
I got better, they took me to see my sister, who was living in a 
village. 2 She was so fond of me that, if she had had her way, 
I should never have left her. Her husband was also very fond of 
me at least, he showed me every kindness. This, too, I owe 
chiefly to the Lord, for I have always been well treated every- 
where, and yet the only service I have rendered Him is to be 
what I am. 

On the road leading to my sister's lived one of my father's 
brothers, 3 a widower, who was a very shrewd man and full of 
virtues. Him, too, the Lord was preparing for Himself: in his old 
age he gave up all that he had and became a friar, and he ended 
his life in such a w'ay that I believe he is now rejoicing in God. He 
wanted me to stay with him for some days. It was his practice 
to read good books in Spanish and his conversation was ordinarily 
about God and the vanity of the world. He made me read to 
him; and, although I did not much care for his books, I acted as 
though I did; for in the matter of pleasing others, even when I 
disliked doing it, I have been so excessively complacent, that in 
others it would have been a virtue, though in me it was a great 
fault because I was often very indiscreet. O God, in how many 
ways did His Majesty gradually prepare me for the state in which 
He was to be pleased to use me! In how many ways, against my 
own will, did He constrain me to exercise restraint upon myself! 4 
May He be blessed for ever. Amen. 

Though I stayed here for only a few days, such was the im- 
pression made on my heart by the words of God, both as read 
and as heard, and the excellence of my uncle's company, that I 
began to understand the truth, which I had learned as a child, 
that all things are nothing, and that the world is vanity and will 
soon pass away. I began to fear that, if I had died of my illness, 

1 Dona Juana Suarez, a nun in the Convent of the Incarnation at Avila, where 
St. Teresa afterwards professed. 

2 [Dona Maria, living at Gastellanos de la Canada. Cf. p 22, n. i, below J 
8 [Cf. p. 23, n. i, below.] 

* [Lit.: "did He force me to exercise force upon myself." The play upon words 
cannot be fully brought out by any satisfactory translation.] 



Ill] LIFE ig 

I should have gone to hell; and though, even then, I could not 
incline my will to being a nun, I saw that this was the best and 
safest state, and so, little by little, I determined to force myself to 
embrace it. 

This conflict lasted for three months. I used to try to convince 
myself by using the following argument. The trials and distresses 
of being a nun could not be greater than those of purgatory and 
I had fully deserved to be in hell. It would not be a great matter 
to spend my life as though I were in purgatory if afterwards 
I were to go straight to Heaven, which was what I desired. This 
decision, then, to enter the religious life seems to have been 
inspired by servile fear more than by love. The devil suggested to 
me that I could not endure the trials of the religious life as I had 
been so delicately brought up. This suggestion I met by telling 
him about the trials suffered by Christ and saying that it would not 
be too much for me to suffer a few for His sake. I must have 
thought that He would help me to bear them but that I cannot 
remember. I had many temptations in those days. 

I had now begun to suffer from serious fainting fits, together 
with fever; my health has always been poor. The fact that I had 
now become fond of good books gave me new life. I would read 
the epistles of Saint Jerome; 1 and these inspired me with such 
courage that I determined to tell my father of my decision, which 
was going almost as far as taking the habit; for my word of honour 
meant so much to me that I doubt if any reason would have 
sufficed to turn me back from a thing when I had once said I 
would do it. He was so fond of me that I was never able to get 
his consent, nor did the requests of persons whom I asked to speak 
with him about it succeed in doing so. The most I could obtain from 
him was permission to do as I liked after his death. As I distrusted 
myself and thought I might turn back out of weakness, this course 
seemed an unsuitable one. So I achieved my aim in another way, 
as I shall now explain. 

X A Spanish translation of these, by Juan de Molina, had been published at 
Valencia, in 1520. 



20 LIFE [CHAP. 



CHAPTER IV 

Describes how the Lord helped her to force herself to take the habit and tells 
oj the numerous infirmities which His Majesty began to send her. 

During this time, when I was considering these resolutions, I 
had persuaded one of my brothers, by talking to him about the 
vanity of the world, to become a friar, 1 and we agreed to set out 
together, very early one morning, for the convent where that friend 
of mine lived of whom I was so fond. In making my final decision, 
I had already resolved that I would go to any other convent in 
which I thought I could serve God better or which my father 
might wish me to enter, for by now I was concerned chiefly with 
the good of my soul and cared nothing for my comfort. I re- 
member and I really believe this is true that when I left my 
father's house my distress was so great that I do not think it will be 
greater when I die. It seemed to me as if every bone in my body 
were being wrenched asunder; for, as I had no love of God to 
subdue my love for my father and kinsfolk, everything was such 
a strain to me that, if the Lord had not helped me, no reflections 
of my own would have sufficed to keep me true to my purpose. 
But the Lord gave me courage to fight against myself and so I 
carried out my intention. 

When I took the habit, 2 the Lord at once showed me how 
great are His favours to those who use force with themselves in 
His service. No one realized that I had gone through all this; 
they all thought I had acted out of sheer desire. At the time 
my entrance into this new life gave me a joy so great that it has 
never failed me even to this day, and God converted the aridity 
of my soul into the deepest tenderness. Everything connected 
with the religious life caused me delight; and it is a fact that 
sometimes, when I was spending time in sweeping floors which 

1 Her younger brother Antonio, who became a Dominican, and later a Hieronymite. 
Then ill health compelled him to return to the world and he died in the Indies, in 

1546. 

a The Convent of the Incarnation, Avila, is situated on the north side of the city, 
outside the walls. It had been founded in 1479, as a residence for ladies who were 
members of the Third Order of Carmel but later it was converted into a convent 
with the title of Our Lady of the Incarnation. As to the date of her entry into the 
Convent, there has been a great deal of doubt, but documents [published by P. 
Silveno m his appendices] appear to have established that she took the habit on 
November a, 1536, and made her solemn profession on November 3, 1537, at the ages 
of twenty-one and twenty-two respectively. [Previously Ribera's dates of 1535 and 
1536 had been generally accepted, though there was also evidence in favour of 1533 
and 1534]. Cf. Relation IV (p. 319, below) : "It is forty years since this nun took 
the habit." This was written in 1576. 



IV] LIFE 21 

I had previously spent on my own indulgence and adornment, and 
realized that I was now free from all those things, there came to 
me a new joy, which amazed me, for I could not understand 
whence it arose. Whenever I recall this, there is nothing, however 
hard, which I would hesitate to undertake if it were proposed to 
me. For I know now, by experience of many kinds, that if I 
strengthen my purpose by resolving to do a thing for God's sake 
alone, it is His will that, from the very beginning, my soul shall 
be afraid, so that my merit may be the greater; and if I achieve 
my resolve, the greater my fear has been, the greater will be my 
reward, and the greater, too, will be my retrospective pleasure. 
Even in this life His Majesty rewards such an act in ways that can 
be understood only by one who has enjoyed them. This I know by 
experience, as I have said, in many very serious matters; and so, 
if I were a person who had to advise others, I would never recom- 
mend anyone, when a good inspiration comes to him again and 
again, to hesitate to put it into practice because of fear; for, if one 
lives a life of detachment for God's sake alone, there is no reason 
to be afraid that things will turn out amiss, since He is all-power- 
ful. May He be blessed for ever. Amen. 

O Supreme Good! O my Rest! The favours which Thou 
hadst given me until now should have sufficed me, since by Thy 
compassion and greatness I had been brought, along so many 
devious ways, to a state so secure and to a house in which there 
were so many servants of God from whom I might take example 
and thus learn to grow in Thy service. When I remember the way 
I made my profession and the great determination and satisfaction 
with which I made it and the betrothal that I contracted with 
Thee, I do not know how to proceed any farther with my story. 
I cannot speak of this without tears, and they ought to be tears of 
blood, and my heart ought to break, and even that would be 
showing no great sorrow for the offences which I afterwards 
committed against Thee. It seems to me now that I was right not 
to wish for so great an honour, since I was to make such bad use 
of it. But Thou, my Lord, wert prepared to be offended by me 
for almost twenty years, during which time I made ill use of Thy 
favour, so that in the end I might become better. It would seem, 
my God, as if I had promised to break all the promises I had 
made Thee, although at the time that was not my intention. When 
I look back on these actions of mine, I do not know what my 
intention could have been. All this, my Spouse, reveals still more 
clearly the difference between Thy nature and mine. Certainly 
distress for my great sins is often tempered by the joy which 
comes to me at being the means of making known the multitude 
of Thy mercies. 



22 LIFE [CHAP. 

In whom, Lord, can they shine forth as in me, who with 
my evil deeds have thus obscured the great favours which Thou 
hadst begun to show me? Alas, my Creator! If I would make an 
excuse, I have none, and none is to blame but I. For, had I 
repaid Thee any part of the love which Thou hadst begun to show 
me, I could have bestowed it on none but Thyself; and had I but 
done this, everything would have been set right. But as I have 
not deserved this, nor had such good fortune, may Thy mercy, 
Lord, be availing for me. 

The change in my life, and in my diet, affected my health; 
and, though my happiness was great, it was not sufficient to cure 
me. My fainting-fits began to increase in number and I suffered 
so much from heart trouble that everyone who saw me was 
alarmed. I also had many other ailments. I spent my first year, 
therefore, in a very poor state of health, though I do not think 
I offended God very much during that time. My condition 
became so serious r for I hardly ever seemed to be fully conscious, 
and sometimes I lost consciousness altogether that my father 
made great efforts to find me a cure. As our own doctors could 
suggest none, he arranged for me to be taken to a place where 
they had a great reputation for curing other kinds of illness and 
said they could also cure mine. This friend whom I have 
spoken of as being in the house, and who was one of the seniors 
among the sisters, went with me. In the house where I was a 
nun, we did not have to make a vow of enclosure. I was there for 
nearly a year, and during three months of that time I suffered 
the greatest tortures from the drastic remedies which they applied 
to me. I do not know how I managed to endure them; and in 
fact, though I did endure them, my constitution was unable to 
stand them, as I shall explain. My treatment was to commence 
at the beginning of the summer and I had left the convent when 
the winter began. All the intervening time I spent in the house 
of the sister whom I referred to above as living in a village, waiting 
for the month of April, which was near at hand, so that I should 
not have to go and come back again. 1 

1 [This last phrase has puzzled the commentators. I take the meaning to be that 
St. Teresa went to stay with her sister, Dona Maria, who had married a certain Don 
Martin de Guzman y Barrientos, in the late autumn ("when the winter began" but it 
begins early on the Casuhan plateau), was under the supervision of the curandera, 
who lived near the sister, during the winter, and went to live with her, to take the 
intensive and painful course of treatment referred to in the text, in the following 
April, staying till July. It was presumably on a first visit to the curandera, made for 
the purpose of a consultation, that St. Teresa was accompanied by the older 
nun. But Becedas, where the curandera lived, was over forty miles from Avila, 
whereas Dona Maria's village of Castellanos de la Canada was quite near 
Becedas, so that by going to stay with her sister she saved herself long journeys 
during the winter. TTbis interpretation seems to me the only one which fits all 
the facts.] 



IV] LIFE 23 

On the way there, I stopped at the house of this uncle of mine, 
which, as I have said, was on the road, and he gave me a book 
called Third Alphabet, which treats of the Prayer of Recollection. 1 
During this first year I had been reading good books (I no longer 
wanted to read any others, for I now realized what harm they 
had done me) but I did not know how to practise prayer, or how 
to recollect myself, and so I was delighted with the book and 
determined to follow that way of prayer with all my might. As 
by now the Lord had granted me the gift of tears, and I liked 
reading, I began to spend periods in solitude, to go frequently to 
confession and to start upon the way of prayer with this book for 
my guide. For I found no other guide (no confessor, I mean) 
who understood me, though I sought one for fully twenty years 
subsequently to the time I am speaking of. This did me great 
harm, as I had frequent relapses, and might have been completely 
lost; a guide would at least have helped me to escape when I 
found myself running the risk of offending God. 

In these early days His Majesty began to grant me so many 
favours that at the end of this entire period of solitude, which lasted 
for almost nine months, although I was not so free from offending 
God as the book said one should be, I passed over that, for such 
great care seemed to me almost impossible. I was particular about 
not committing mortal sin and would to God I had always been 
so! But about venial sins I troubled very little and it was this 
which brought about my fall. Still, the Lord began to be so 
gracious to me on this way of prayer that He granted me v the 
favour of leading me to the Prayer of Quiet, and occasionally 
even to Union, though I did not understand what either of these 
was, or how highly they were to be valued. Had I understood 
this I think it would have been a great blessing. It is true that my 
experience of Union lasted only a short time; I am not sure that 
it can have been for as long as an Ave Maria; but the results of it 
were so considerable, and lasted for so long that, although at this 
time I was not twenty years old, 2 I seemed to have trampled the 
world beneath my feet, and I- t remember that I used to pity those 
who still clung to it, even in things that were lawful. I used to try 
to think of Jesus Christ, our Good and our Lord, as present within 
me, and it was in this way that I prayed. If I thought about any 
incident in His life, I would imagine it inwardly, though I liked 
principally to read good books, and this constituted the whole of 

1 The uncle, Don Pedro, lived at Hortigosa, a village on the road to Gastellanos. 
.The Discalced Carmelite community of St. Joseph, at Avila, still preserves the 
copy of Francisco de Osuna's Third Spiritual Alphabet [cf, SS M* y I, 79-131] here 
referred to. 

* [St. Teresa must have been mistaken. She cannot possibly have been less than 
twenty-three and was probably a little older.] 



24 LIFE [CHAP. 

my recreation. For God had not given me talents for reasoning 
with the understanding or for making good use of the imagination : 
my imagination is so poor that, even when I thought about 
the Lord's Humanity, or tried to imagine it to myself, as I was 
in the habit of doing, I never succeeded. And although, if they 
persevere, people may attain more quickly to contemplation by 
following this method of not labouring with the understanding, 
it is a very troublesome and painful process. For if the will has 
nothing to employ it and love has no present object with which 
to busy itself, the soul finds itself without either support or occu- 
pation, its solitude and aridity cause it great distress and its 
thoughts involve it in the severest conflict. 

People in this condition need greater purity of conscience than 
those who can labour with the understanding. For anyone 
meditating on the nature of the world, on his duties to God, on 
God's great sufferings and on what he himself is giving to Him 
Who loves him, will find in his meditations instruction for de- 
fending himself against his thoughts and against perils and 
occasions of sin. Anyone unable to make use of this method is in 
much greater danger and should occupy himself frequently in 
reading, since he cannot find instruction in any other way. 
And inability to do this is so very painful that, if the master who 
is directing him forbids him to read and thus find help for re- 
collection, reading is none the less necessary for him, however 
little it may be, as a substitute for the mental prayer which he is 
unable to practise. I mean that if he is compelled to spend a 
great deal of time in prayer without this aid it will be impossible 
for him to persist in it for long, and if he does so it will endanger 
his health, since it is a very painful process. 

I believe now that it was through the Lord's good providence 
that I found no one to teach me; for, had I done so, it would have 
been impossible, I think, for me to persevere during the eighteen 
years for which I had to bear this trial and these great aridities, due, 
as I say, to my being unable to meditate. During all these years,- 
except after communicating, I never dared begin to pray without 
a book; my soul was as much afraid to engage in prayer without 
one as if it were having to go and fight against a host of enemies. 
With this help, which was a companionship to me and a shield 
with which I could parry the blows of my many thoughts, I felt 
comforted. For it was not usual with me to suffer from aridity: 
this only came when I had no book, whereupon my soul would at 
once become disturbed and my thoughts would begin to wander. 
As soon as I started to read they began to collect themselves 
and the book acted like a bait to my soul. Often the mere fact 
that I had it by me was sufficient. Sometimes I read a little, 



IV] LIFE 25 

sometimes a great deal, according to the favour which the Lord 
showed me. It seemed to me, in these early stages of which I am 
speaking, that, provided I had books and could be alone, there 
was no risk of my being deprived of that great blessing; and I 
believe that, by the help of God, this would have been the case if 
at the beginning I had had a master or some other person to 
advise me how to flee from occasions of sin, and, if I fell before 
them, to get me quickly free from them. If at that time the devil 
had attacked me openly, I believe I should never in any way 
have begun to sin grievously again. But he was so subtle, and I 
was so weak, that all my resolutions were of little profit to me, 
though, in the days when I served God, they became very profit- 
able indeed, in that they enabled me to bear the terrible infirmities 
which came to me with the great patience given me by His 
Majesty. 

I have often reflected with amazement upon God's great 
goodness and my soul has delighted in the thought of His great 
magnificence and mercy. May He be blessed for all this, for it 
has become clear to me that, even in this life, He has not failed to 
reward me for any of my good desires. However wretched and im- 
perfect my good works have been, this Lord of mine has been 
improving them, perfecting them and making them of greater 
worth, and yet hiding my evil deeds and my sins as soon as they 
have been committed. He has even allowed the eyes of those 
who have seen them to be blind to them and He blots them from 
their memory. He gilds my faults and makes some virtue of 
mine to shine forth in splendour; yet it was He Himself Who 
gave it me and almost forced me to possess it. 

I will now return and do what I have been commanded. I 
repeat that, if I had to describe in detail the way in which the 
Lord dealt with me in these early days, I should need much more 
intelligence than I have so as to be able to appreciate what I 
owe to Him, together with my own ingratitude and wickedness, 
all of which I have forgotten. May He be for ever blesssed, Who 
has endured me for so long. Amen. 



26 LIFE [CHAP. 



CHAPTER V 

Continues to tell of the grievous infirmities which she suffered and of the 
patience given her by the Lord, and of how He brings good out of 
evil, as will be seen from an incident which happened to her in the 
place where she went for treatment. 

I forgot to tell how, in the year of my novitiate, I suffered long 
periods of unrest about things which in themselves were of little 
importance. I was very often blamed when the fault was not 
mine. This I bore very imperfectly, and with great distress of 
mind, although I was able to endure it all because of my great 
satisfaction at being a nun. When they saw me endeavouring 
to be alone and sometimes weeping for my sins, they thought that 
I was discontented and said so. I was fond of everything to do with 
the religious life but I could not bear anything which seemed to 
make me ridiculous. I delighted in being thought well of; I was 
particular about everything I did; and all this I thought was a 
virtue, though that cannot serve me as an excuse, because I 
knew how to get pleasure for myself out of everything and so 
my wrong-doing cannot be excused by ignorance. Some excuse 
may be found in the imperfect organization of the convent. But 
I, in my wickedness, followed what I knew to be wrong and 
neglected what was good. 

At that time there was a nun who was afflicted by a most 
serious and painful illness : she was suffering from open sores in 
the stomach, which had been caused by obstructions, and these 
forced her to reject all her food. Of this illness she soon died. 
I saw that all the nuns were afraid of it but for my own part I had 
only great envy of her patience. I begged' God that He would 
send me any illness He pleased if only He would make me as 
patient as she. I do not think I was in the least afraid of being ill, 
for I was so anxious 'to win eternal blessings that I was resolved 
to win l^iem by any means whatsoever. And I am surprised at 
this; for, although I had not then, I think, such love for God as I 
have had since I began to pray, I had light enough to realize 
how trivial is the value of all things that pass away and how great 
is the worth of blessings which can be gained by despising them, 
for these are eternal. Well, His Majesty heard my prayer; 
for, before two years had passed, I myself had an illness which, 
though not of the same kind, was, I think, no less painful and 
troublesome. And this I suffered for three years, as I shall now 
relate. 



V] LIFE 27 

When the time had come which I was awaiting in the place 
where, as I said, I was staying with my sister before undergoing 
my treatment, I was taken away, with the greatest solicitude 
for my comfort, by my father and sister and that nun who was 
my friend and had accompanied me when I had first left the convent 
because she loved me so dearly. It was now that the devil began 
to unsettle my soul, although God turned this into a great blessing. 
There was a priest 1 who lived in the place where I had gone for 
the treatment : he was a man of really good family and great 
intelligence, and also of some learning, though not a great deal. 
I began to make my confessions to him, for I have always been 
attracted by learning, though confessors with only a little of it 
have done my soul great harm, and I have not always found men 
who had as much of it as I should have liked. I have discovered 
by experience that if they are virtuous and lead holy lives it is 
better they should have none at all than only a little; for then they 
do not trust themselves (nor would I myself trust them) unless 
they have first consulted those who are really learned; but a 
truly learned man has never led me astray. Not that these others 
can have meant to lead me astray: it is simply that they have 
known no better. I had supposed that they did and that my only 
obligation was to believe them, as they spoke to me in a very 
broad-minded way and gave me a great deal of freedom : if they 
had been strict, I am so wicked that I should have looked for 
others. What in reality was venial sin, they would tell me was 
no sin at all; and the most grievous of mortal sins was to them only 
venial. This did me such harm that it is not surprising if I speak 
of it here to warn others against so great an evil, for I see clearly 
that in God's sight I have no excuse; the fact that the things I did 
were themselves not good should have been sufficient to keep 
me from doing them. I believe God permitted these confessors 
to be mistaken and lead me astray because of my own sins. I 
myself led many others astray by repeating to them what had 
been told me. I continued in this state of blindness, I believe, 
for more than seventeen years, until a Dominican Father, 2 who 
was a very learned man, undeceived me about certain things, 
and the Fathers of the Company of Jesus 3 made me very much 
afraid about my whole position by representing to me the gravity 
of these unsound principles, as I shall explain later. 

After I had begun to make my confessions to this priest of whom 
I am speaking, he took an extreme liking to me, for at that time 

1 [Lit : "a person of the Church", but the context makes the meaning clear.] 

2 P. Vicente Barr6n, a theologian of repute, -who was also her father's confessor 

8 [Spanish -writers always describe the Society of Jesus as the "Company 1 * and that 
word is kept throughout this translation.] 



28 LIFE [CHAP. 

I had little to confess by comparison with what I had later 
I had not really had much ever since I became a nun. There was 
nothing wrong in his affection for me, but it ceased to be good 
because there was too much of it. He realized that nothing 
whatever would induce me to commit any grave offence against 
God and he assured me that it was the same with him, and so 
we talked together a good deal. But at that time, full of love for 
God as I was, my greatest delight in conversation was to speak 
about Him; and, as I was such a child, this caused him confusion, 
and, out of the great affection that he had for me, he began to 
tell me about his unhappy condition. It was no small matter: 
for nearly seven years he had been in a most perilous state because 
of his affection for a woman in that very place, with whom he 
had had a good deal to do. Nevertheless, he continued saying 
Mass. The fact that he had lost his honour and his good name 
was quite well known, yet no one dared to reprove him for it. 
I was sorry for him because I liked him very much : at that time 
I was so frivolous and blind that I thought it a virtue to be grate- 
ful and loyal to anyone who liked me. Cursed be such loyalty 
when it goes so far that it militates against loyalty to God ! This 
is a bewildering folly common in the world and it certainly 
bewilders me. For we owe to God all the good that men show us, 
yet we consider it a virtue not to break off friendships with men 
even if they cause us to act contrarily to His will. O blindness of 
the world ! May it please Thee, Lord, that I may be completely 
lacking in gratitude to the whole world provided that in no 
respect I lack gratitude to Thee. But exactly the reverse has been 
true of me, because of my sins. 

I got to know more about this priest by making enquiries of 
members of his household. I then realized what great trouble 
the poor man had got himself into and found that it was not 
altogether his own fault. For the unhappy woman had cast a 
spell over him, giving him a little copper figure and begging him, 
for love of her, to wear it round his neck, and no one had been 
able to persuade him to take it off. Now, with regard to this 
particular incident of the spell, I do not believe there is the least 
truth in it. But I will relate what I saw, in order to warn men to 
be on their guard against women who try to do such things to 
them. Let them be sure that, if women (who are more bound to 
lead chaste lives even than men) lose all shame in the sight of 
God, there is nothing whatever in which they can be trusted. 
In order to obtain the pleasure of following their own will and 
an affection inspired in them by the devil, they will stop at 
nothing. Wicked as I have been, I have never fallen into any sin 
of this kind, nor have I ever tried to do wrong in this way; and, 



V] LIFE 29 

even if I could have done so, I should never have wanted to 
force anyone's affection in my favour, for the Lord has kept me 
from this. If He had forsaken me, however, I should have done 
wrong in this respect, as I have done in others, for I am in no 
way to be trusted. 

When I heard about this spell I began to show the priest 
greater affection. My intentions here were good, but my action 
was wrong, for one must never do the smallest thing that is wrong 
in order to do good, however great. As a rule, I used to speak to 
him about God. This must have done something to help him, 
although I believe his liking for me did more; for, in order to 
please me, he gave me the little figure, which I at once got some- 
one to throw into a river. When he had done this, he became 
like a man awakening from a deep sleep and he began to recall 
everything that he had been doing during those years. He was 
amazed at himself and grieved at his lost condition and he began 
to hate the woman who had led him to it. Our Lady must 
have been a great help to him, for he was most devoted to her 
Conception and he used to keep the day commemorating it as a 
great festival. In the end, he gave up seeing the woman, and 
never wearied of giving thanks to God for having granted him 
light. Exactly a year from the day when I first saw him he died. 
He had been active in God's service and I never thought there 
was anything wrong in the great affection that he had for me, 
although it might have been purer. There were also occasions 
when, if he had not had recourse to the presence of God, he might 
have committed the gravest offences. As I have said, I would not 
at that time have done anything which I believed to be a mortal 
sin. And I think his realization that that was so increased his 
affection for me; for I believe all men must have greater affection 
for women when they see them inclined to virtue. Even in order 
to obtain their earthly desires, women can get more from men in 
this way, as I shall explain later. I am convinced that that priest 
is in the way of salvation. He died very devoutly and completely 
delivered from that occasion of sin. It seems that the Lord's will 
was that he should be saved by these means. 

I remained in that place for three months, suffering the 
greatest trials, for the treatment was more drastic than my 
constitution could stand. At the end of two months, the severity 
of the remedies had almost ended my life, and the pain in my 
heart, which I had gone there to get treated, was much worse; 
sometimes I felt as if sharp teeth had hold of me, and so severe 
was the pain they caused that it was feared I was going mad. 
My strength suffered a grave decline, for I could take nothing 
but liquid, had a great distaste for food, was in a continual fever, 



30 LIFE [CHAP. 

and became so wasted away that, after they had given me 
purgatives daily for almost a month, I was, as it were, so shrivelled 
up that my nerves began to shrink. These symptoms were 
accompanied by intolerable pain which gave me no rest by night 
or by day. Altogether I was in a state of great misery. 

Seeing that I had gained nothing here, my father took me away 
and once again called in the doctors. They all gave me up, 
saying that, quite apart from everything else, I was consumptive. 
This troubled me very little : it was the pains that distressed me, 
for they racked me from head to foot and never ceased. Nervous 
pains, as the doctors said., are intolerable, and, as all my 
nerves had shrunk, this would indeed have been terrible torture 
if it had not all been due to my own fault. I could not have 
been in this serious state for more than three months : it seemed 
impossible that so many ills could all be endured at the same 
time. I am astonished at myself now and consider the patience 
which His Majesty gave me to have been a great favour from the 
Lord, for, as could clearly be seen, it was from Him that it came. 
It was a great help to my patience that I had read the story of 
Job in the Morals of St. Gregory, 1 for the Lord seems to have 
used this for preparing me to suffer. It was also a help that I 
had begun the practice of prayer, so that I could bear everything 
with great resignation. All my conversation was with God. 
I had continually in mind these words of Job, which I used to 
repeat: Since we have received good things at the hand of the 
Losd, why shall we not suffer evil things? 2 This seemed to give 
me strength. 

And now the August festival of Our Lady came round: I 
had been in torment ever since April, though the last three months 
were the worst. I hastened to go to confession, for I was always 
very fond of frequent confession. They thought that this was 
due to fear of death, and, in order that I should not be distressed, 
my father forbade me to go. Oh, what an excess of human love! 
Though my father was so good a Catholic and so wise for he 
was extremely wise and so was not acting through ignorance 
he might have done me great harm. That night I had a fit, 
which left me unconscious for nearly four days. 3 During that 

1 The Discalced nuns of St. Joseph's, Avila, have an edition of St. Gregory's Morals, 
in two volumes, which, according to an inscription in the second volume, were read 
and marked by St. Teresa. Both in these volumes, however, and in the Alphabet, 
it can be stated with confidence that the majority of the marks were not made by 
the Saint. 

2 Job ii, 10. 

3 According to Ribera (Bk. I, Chap. VII), she was believed to be dead, a grave 
was dug for her at the Incarnation and nuns came from that convent to keep vigil 
by her body Her father, however, was convinced that there was stall life in her and 
refused to consent to the burial. 



V] LIFE 31 

time they gave me the Sacrament of Unction, and from hour 
to hour, from moment to moment, thought I was dying; they 
did nothing but repeat the Greed to me, as though I could have 
understood any of it. There must have been times when they 
were sure I was dead, for afterwards I actually found some 
wax on my eyelids. 

My father was in great distress because he had not allowed me 
to go to confession. Many cries and prayers were made for me 
to God. Blessed be He Who was pleased to hear them! For a 
day and a half there was an open grave in my convent, where 
they were awaiting my body, and in one of the monasteries of 
our Order, some way from here, they had performed the rites for 
the dead. But it pleased the Lord that I should return to con- 
sciousness. I wished at once to go to confession. I communicated 
with many tears; but they were not, I think, tears of sorrow and 
distress due only to my having offended God, which might have 
sufficed to save me, if there had not been sufficient excuse for me 
in the way I was misled by those who had told me that certain 
things were not mortal sins which I have since seen clearly were 
so. My sufferings were so intolerable that I hardly had the power 
to think, though I believe my confession was complete as to all 
the ways in which I was conscious of having offended God. There 
is one grace, among others, which His Majesty has granted me: 
never since I began to communicate have I failed to confess 
anything which I thought to be a sin, even if only a venial one. 
But I think that without doubt, if I had died then, my salvation 
would have been very uncertain, because my confessors, on the 
one hand, were so unlearned, and because I, on the other, was 
so wicked, and for many other reasons. 

The fact is, when I come to this point, and realize how the 
Lord seems to have raised me from the dead, I am so amazed 
that inwardly I am almost trembling. It would be well, O my 
soul, if thou wouldst look at the danger from which the Lord 
has delivered thee, so that if thou didst not cease to offend Him 
through love, thou shouldst do so through fear. He might have 
slain thee on any of a thousand other occasions and in a more 
perilous state still. I do not believe I am straying far from 
the truth when I say "a thousand", though I may be reproved 
by him who has commanded me to be temperate in recounting 
my sins, which I have presented in a light only too favourable. 
I beg him, for the love of God, to excuse none of my faults, 
for they only reveal the magnificence of God and His longsuffering 
to the soul. May He be blessed for ever. And may it please 
His Majesty that I be utterly consumed rather than cease to love 
Him. 



32 LIFE [CHAP. 



CHAPTER VI 

Describes all that she owed to the Lord for granting her resignation in 
such great trials; and how she took the glorious Saint Joseph for 
her mediator and advocate; and the great profit that this brought 
her. 

After this fit, which lasted for four days, I was in such a state 
that only the Lord can know what intolerable sufferings I 
experienced. My tongue was bitten to pieces; nothing had 
passed my lips ; and because of this and of my great weakness 
my throat was choking me so that I could not even take water. 
All my bones seemed to be out of joint and there was a terrible 
confusion in my head. As a result of the torments I had suffered 
during these days, I was all doubled up, like a ball, and no more 
able to move arm, foot, hand or head than if I had been dead, 
unless others moved them for me. I could move, I think, only 
one finger of my right hand. It was impossible to let anyone 
come to see me, for I was in such a state of distress that I could 
not endure it. They used to move me in a sheet, one taking 
one end and another the other. This lasted until Easter Sunday. 1 
My only alleviation was that, if no one came near me, my 
pains often ceased ; and when I had rested a little I used to think 
I was getting well. For I was afraid my patience would fail me; 
so I was very glad when I found myself without such sharp 
and constant pains, although I could hardly endure the .terrible 
cold fits of quartan ague, from which I still suffered and which 
were very severe. I still had a dreadful distaste for food. 

I was now so eager to return to the convent that they had 
me taken there. So, instead of the dead body they had expected, 
the nuns received a living soul; though the body was worse 
than dead and distressing to behold. My extreme weakness 
cannot be described, for by this time I was nothing but bones. 
As I have said, I remained in this condition for more than 
eight months, and my paralysis, though it kept improving, 
continued for nearly three years. When I began to get about 
on my hands and knees, I praised God. All this^ I bore with 
great resignation, ^and, except at the beginning, with great 
joy; for none of it could compare with the pains and torments 
which I had suffered at first. I was quite resigned to the will 
of God, even if He had left me in this condition for ever. My 
great yearning, I think, was to get well so that I might be alone 

1 \fascuajiorida. Lewis (p. 33) erroneously translates "Palm Sunday".] 



VI] LIFE 33 

when I prayed, as I had been taught to be there was no possi- 
bility of this in the infirmary. I made my confession very fre- 
quently, and talked a great deal about God, in such a way 
that all were edified and astonished at the patience which the 
Lord gave me; for if it had not come from His Majesty's hand 
it would have seemed impossible to be able to endure such great 
sufferings with such great joy. 

It was a wonderful thing for me to have received the grace 
which God had granted me through prayer, for this made 
me realize what it was to love Him. After a short time I found 
these virtues were renewed within me, although not in great 
strength, for they were not sufficient to uphold me in righteous- 
ness. I never spoke ill of anyone in the slightest degree, for 
my usual practice was to avoid all evil-speaking. I used to 
remind myself that I must not wish or say anything about 
anyone which I should not like to be said of me. I was extremely 
particular about observing this rule on all possible occasions, 
although I was not so perfect as not to fail now and then when 
faced with difficult situations. Still, that was my usual habit; 
and those who were with me and had to do with me were so 
much struck by it that they made it a habit too. It came to 
be realized that in my presence people could turn their backs 
to me and yet be quite safe; and so, too, they were with my 
friends and kinsfolk and those who learned from me. But in 
other respects I shall have to give a strict account to God for 
the bad example which I set them. May it please His Majesty 
to forgive me, for I have been the cause of much wrongdoing, 
though my intentions were not so harmful as were the actions 
which resulted from them. 

My desire for solitude continued and I was fond of speak- 
ing and conversing about God; if I found anyone with whom 
I could do so, it gave me more joy and recreation than indul- 
gence in any of the refinements (which are really coarsenesses) 
of the conversation of the world. I communicated and con- 
fessed very much more frequently and this by my own wish; 
I loved reading good books; I was not sincerely penitent at 
having offended God; and I remember that often I dared not 
pray because I was afraid of the very deep distress which I 
should feel at having offended Him, and which was like a severe 
punishment. This continued to grow upon me and became 
such a torment that I do not know with what I can compare 
it. And its being greater or less had nothing to do with any 
fear of mine, for it would come when I thought of the favours 
which the Lord was giving me in prayer, and of all that I owed 
Him, and when I saw how ill I was requiting Him. I could not 



34 LIFE {CHAP. 

bear it; and I would grow very angry with myself at shedding 
so many tears for my faults, when I saw how little I improved 
and how neither my resolutions nor the trouble I took were 
sufficient to keep me from falling again when an occasion 
presented itself. My tears seemed to me deceptive and my 
faults the greater because I was conscious of the great favour 
which the Lord bestowed upon me in granting me these tears 
and this great repentance. I used to try to make my confession 
as soon as possible after I had fallen; and, I think, did all I 
could to return to grace. The whole trouble lay in my not 
cutting off the occasions of sin at the root, and in the scant 
help given me by my confessors. For, if they had told me how 
dangerous was the path I was taking and how incumbent 
upon me it was not to indulge in these conversations, I feel 
quite sure I could never have endured remaining in mortal 
sin for even a day with the knowledge that I was doing so. 
All these tokens of the fear of God came to me in prayer. The 
chief of them was that my fear was always swallowed up 1 in 
love, for I never thought about punishment. All the time I 
was so ill, I kept a strict watch over my conscience with respect 
to mortal sin. O God, how I longed for health that I might 
serve Thee better! And that was the cause of all my wrong- 
doing. 

For when I found that, while still so young, I was so seriously 
paralysed, and that earthly doctors had been unable to cure 
me, I resolved to seek a cure from heavenly doctors, for, though 
I bore my sickness with great joy, I none the less desired to be 
well again. I often reflected that, if I were to grow well and 
then to incur damnation, it would be better for me to remain 
as I was; but still I believed that I should serve God much 
better if I recovered my health. That is the mistake we make : 
we do not leave ourselves entirely in the Lord's hands; yet 
He knows best what is good for us. 

I began by having Masses said for me, and prayers which 
had been fully approved; for I was never fond of other kinds 
of devotion which some people practise especially women 
together with ceremonies which I could never endure, but 
for which they have a great affection. Since then it has been 
explained to me that such things are unseemly and superstitious. 
I took for my advocate and lord the glorious Saint Joseph 
and commended myself earnestly to him; and I found that 
this my father and lord delivered me both from this trouble 
and also from other and greater troubles concerning my honour 2 

^[Envuelto. Lit.' "wrapped up", "swathed".] 
2 [Hcnra. Gf. p. 14, n. 2, above] 



VI] LIFE 35 

and the loss of my soul, and that he gave me greater blessings 
than I could ask of him. I do not remember even now that 
I have ever asked anything of him which he has failed to grant. 
I am astonished at the great favours which God has bestowed 
on me through this blessed saint, and at the perils from which 
He has freed me, both in body and in soul. To other saints 
the Lord seems to have given grace to succour us in some of 
our necessities but of this glorious saint my experience is that 
he succours us in them all and that the Lord wishes to teach 
us that as He was Himself subject to him on earth (for, being 
His guardian and being called His father, he could command 
Him) just so in Heaven He still does all that he asks. This has 
also been the experience of other persons whom I have advised 
to commend themselves to him; and even to-day there are 
many who have great devotion to him through having newly 
experienced this truth. 

I used to try to keep his feast with the greatest possible 
solemnity 1 ; but, though my intentions were good, I would 
observe it with more vanity than spirituality, for I always wanted 
things to be done very meticulously and well. I had this unfortu- 
nate characteristic that, if the Lord gave me grace to do any- 
thing good, the way I did it was full of imperfections and 
extremely faulty. I was very assiduous and skilful in 
wrong-doing and in my meticulousness and vanity. May the 
Lord forgive me. I wish I could persuade everyone to be 
devoted to this glonous saint, for I have great experience 
of the blessings which he can obtain from God. I have never 
known anyone be truly devoted to him and render him par- 
ticular services who did not notably advance in virtue, for he 
gives very real help to souls who commend themselves to him. 
For some years now, I think, I have made some request of him 
every year on his festival and I have always had it granted. 
If my petition is in any way ill directed, he directs it aright 
for my greater good. 

If I were a person writing with authority, I would gladly 
describe, at greater length and in the minutest detail, the favours 
which this glorious saint has granted to me and to others. 
But in order not to do more than I have been commanded 
I shall have to write about many things briefly, much more 
so than I should wish, and at unnecessarily great length about 
others : in short, I must act like one who has little discretion in 
all that is good. I only beg, for the love of God, that anyone 

1 In many Spanish convents at this time it was customary to allow any nun who 
could afford to do so to pay the expenses of the yearly festival of some one saint to 
whom she might be particularly devoted. This custom obtained at the Incarnation. 



36 LIFE [CHAP. 

who does not believe me will put what I say to the test, and 
he will see by experience what great advantages come from his 
commending himself to this glorious patriarch and having 
devotion to him. Those who practise prayer should have a special 
affection for him always. I do not know how anyone can think 
of the Queen of the Angels, during the time that she suffered 
so much with the Child Jesus, without giving thanks to Saint 
Joseph for the way he helped them. If anyone cannot find a 
master to teach him how to pray, let him take this glorious 
saint as his master and he will not go astray. May the Lord 
grant that I have not erred in venturing to speak of him; for 
though I make public acknowledgment of my devotion to 
him, in serving and imitating him I have always failed. He 
was true to his own nature when he cured my paralysis and 
gave me the power to rise and walk; and I am following my 
own nature in using this favour so ill. 

Who would have said that I should fall so soon, after receiving 
so many favours from God, and after His Majesty had begun 
to grant me virtues which themselves aroused me to serve Him; 
after I had seen myself at death's door and in such great peril 
of damnation ; after He had raised me up, in soul and in body, 
so that all who saw me were amazed to see me alive? What 
it is, my Lord, to have to live a life so full of perils ! For here 
I am writing this, and it seems to me that with Thy favour 
and through Thy mercy I might say with Saint Paul, though 
not so perfectly as he: For it is not I now who live, but Thou, 
my Creator, livest in me. 1 For some years, so far as I can see, 
Thou hast held me by Thy hand, and I find I have desires and 
resolutions tested to a certain extent, during these years, in 
many ways, by experience to do nothing contrary to Thy 
will, however trifling it may be, though I must often have caused 
Thy Majesty numerous offences without knowing it. It seems 
to me, too, that nothing can present itself to me which I would 
not with great resolution undertake for love of Thee, and some 
of these things Thou hast helped me successfully to* accomplish. 
I desire neither the world nor anything that is worldly, and 
nothing seems to give me pleasure unless it comes from Thee: 
everything else seems to me a heavy cross. I may well be mistaken 
and it may be that I have not the desire that I have described; 
but Thou seest, my Lord, that, so far as I can understand, I 
am not lying. I am afraid, and with good reason, that Thou 
mayest once more forsake me; for I know well how little my 
strength and insufficiency of virtue can achieve if Thou be not 
ever granting me Thy grace and helping me not to forsake 

1 Galatians ii, 20. 



VI] LIFE 37 

Thee. May it please Thy Majesty that I be not forsaken by Thee 
even now, while I am thinking all this about myself. I do not 
know why we wish to live, when everything is so uncertain. 
I used to think, my Lord, that it was impossible to forsake 
Thee wholly; yet how many times have I forsaken Thee! I 
cannot but fear; for, when Thou didst withdraw from me but a 
little, I fell utterly to the ground. Blessed be Thou for ever! 
For, though I have forsaken Thee, Thou hast not so completely 
forsaken me as not to raise me up again by continually giving 
me Thy hand. Often, Lord, I would not take it, and often 
when Thou didst call me a second time I would not listen, as 
I shall now relate. 



CHAPTER VII 

Descnbes how she began to lose the favours which the Lord had granted 
her and how evil her life became. Treats of the harm that comes 
to convents from laxity in the observance of the rule of enclosure. 

I began, then, to indulge in one pastime after another, in 
one vanity after another and in one occasion of sin after another. 
Into so many and such grave occasions of sin did I fall, and 
so far was my soul led astray by all these vanities, that I was 
ashamed to return to God and to approach Him in the intimate 
friendship which comes from prayer. This shame was increased 
by the fact that, as my sins grew in number, I bgan to lose the 
pleasure and joy which I had been deriving from virtuous things. 
I saw very clearly, my Lord, that this was failing me because 
I was failing Thee. The devil, beneath the guise of humility, 
now led me into the greatest of all possible errors. Seeing that 
I was so utterly lost, I began to be afraid to pray. It seemed to 
me better, since in my wickedness I was one of the worst people 
alive, to live like everyone else; to recite, vocally, the prayers 
that I was bound to say; and not to practise mental prayer or 
hold so much converse with God, since I deserved to be with 
the devils, and, by presenting an outward appearance of good- 
ness, was only deceiving others. No blame for this is to be 
attributed to the house in which I lived, for I was clever enough 
to see to it that the nuns had a good opinion of me, though I 
did not do so deliberately, by pretending to be a good Christian, 
for in the matter of vainglory and hypocrisy glory be to God! I 
do not remember having even once offended Him, so far as I 
am aware. For if ever I perceived within myself the first 
motions of such a thing, it distressed me so much that the devil 



38 LIFE [CHAP. 

would depart confounded and I would be all the better for it; 
so he has very seldom tempted me much in this way. Perhaps, 
if God had permitted me to be tempted as severely in this respect 
as in others, I should have fallen here too, but so far His Majesty 
has kept me from this. May He be for ever blessed. In reality, 
therefore, I was very much troubled that they should have 
such a good opinion of me, as I knew what sort of person I was 
inwardly. 

This belief which they had that I was not so wicked was 
the result of their seeing me, young though I was and exposed 
to so many occasions of sin, withdrawing myself frequently into 
solitude, saying my prayers, reading a great deal, speaking 
about God, liking to have pictures of Him in a great many 
places, wanting an oratory of my own, trying to get objects of 
devotion for it, refraining from evil-speaking and doing other 
things of that kind which gave me the appearance of being 
virtuous. I myself was vain and liked to be well thought of in 
the things wont to be esteemed by the world. On account of 
this they gave me as much liberty as is given to the oldest nuns, 
and even more, and they had great confidence in me. For I 
did no such things as taking liberties for myself or doing any- 
thing without leave such as talking to people through crevices 
or over walls or by night and I do not think I could ever have 
brought myself to talk in such a way with anyone in the convent, 
for the Lord held me by His hand. It seemed to me for there 
were many things which I used to ponder deliberately and 
with great care that it would be very wrong of me to compromise 
the good name of so many of the sisters when I was wicked 
and they were good: just as though all the other things that 
I did had been good! In truth, though I often acted very 
wrongly, my faults were never so much the result of a set purpose 
as those others would have been. 

For that reason, I think it was a very bad thing for me not 
to be in a convent that was enclosed. The freedom which the 
sisters, who were good, might enjoy without becoming less so 
(for they were not obliged to live more strictly than they did 
as they had not taken a vow of enclosure) would certainly have 
led me, who am wicked, down to hell, had not the Lord, through 
very special favours, using means and remedies which are all 
His own, delivered me from this peril. It seems to me, then, that 
it is a very great danger for women in a convent to have such 
freedom: for those who want to be wicked it is not so much a 
remedy for their weaknesses as a step on the way to hell. But 
this is not to be applied to my convent, where there are so many 
who servfe the Lord in very truth and with great perfection, so 



VII] LIFE 39 

that His Majesty, in His goodness, cannot fail to help them. 
Nor is it one of those which are completely open, for all religious 
observances are kept in it: I am comparing it now with others 
which I know and have seen. 

This seems to me, as I say, a great pity; for, when a convent 
follows standards and allows recreations which belong to the 
world, and the obligations of the nuns are so ill understood, 
the Lord has perforce to call each of them individually, and not 
once but many times, if they are to be saved. God grant that 
they may not all mistake sin for virtue, as I so often did ! It is very 
difficult to make people see this and the Lord must needs take 
the matter right into His own hands. Parents seem to give little 
thought to the placing of their daughters where they may walk 
in the way of salvation, but allow them to run into more danger 
than they would in the world; nevertheless, if they will follow 
my advice, they will at least consider what concerns their honour. 
Let them be prepared to allow them to marry far beneath 
their stations rather than put them into convents of this kind, 
unless they are very devoutly inclined and God grant that 
their inclinations may lead them into what is good! Otherwise 
they will do better to keep them at home; for there, if they want 
to be wicked, they cannot long hide their wickedness, whereas 
in convents it can be hidden for a. very long time indeed, until, 
in the end, it is revealed by the Lord. They do harm not only 
to themselves but to everybody else; and at times the poor 
creatures are really not to blame, for they only do what they 
find others doing. Many of them are to be pitied: they wish 
to escape from the world, and, thinking that they are going to 
serve the Lord and flee from the world and its perils, they find 
themselves in ten worlds at once, and have no idea where to 
turn or how to get out of their difficulties. Youth, sensuality 
and the devil invite and incline them to do things which are 
completely worldly; and they see that these things' are considered, 
as one might say, "all right". To me, in some ways, they resemble 
those unhappy heretics, who wilfully blind themselves and 
proclaim that what they do is good ; and believe it to be so, yet 
without real confidence, for there is something within them 
which tells them they are doing wrong. 

Oh, what terrible harm, what terrible harm is wrought in 
religious (I am referring now as much to men as to women) 
when the religious life is not properly observed; when of the two 
paths that can be followed in a religious house one leading 
to virtue and the observance of the Rule and the other leading 
away from the Rule both are frequented almost equally! No, 
I am wrong : they are not frequented equally, for our sins cause 



40 LIFE [CHAP. 

the more imperfect road to be the more commonly taken; 
being the broader, it is the more generally favoured. The way 
of true religion is frequented so little that, if the friar and the 
nun are to begin to follow their vocation truly, they need to be 
more afraid of the religious in their own house than of all the 
devils. They must observe greater caution and dissimulation 
when speaking of the friendship which they would have with 
God than in speaking of other friendships and affections promoted 
in religious houses by the devil. I cannot think why we should 
be astonished at all the evils which exist in the Church, when 
those who ought to be models on which all may pattern their 
virtues are annulling the work wrought in the religious Orders 
by the spirit of the saints of old. May His Divine Majesty be 
pleased to find a reme'dy for this, as He sees needful. Amen. 

Now when I began to indulge in these conversations, I did not 
think, seeing them to be so usual, that they would cause the 
harm and distraction to my soul which I found would be the 
case later. For I thought that, as in many convents it is such a 
common practice to receive visitors, I should take no more harm 
from it than would others whom I knew to be good. I did not 
realize that they were far better 1 than I and that what was 
dangerous for me would not be so dangerous for others. Yet I 
have no doubt that the practice is never quite free from danger, 
' if only because it is a waste of time. I was once in the company 
of a certain person, right at the beginning of my acquaintance 
with her, when the Lord was pleased to make me realize that 
these friendships were not good for me, and to warn me and 
enlighten my great blindness. Christ revealed Himself to me, 
in an attitude of great sternness, and showed me what there was 
in this that displeased Him. 1 I saw Him with the eyes of the 
soul more clearly than I could ever have seen Him with those 
of the body; and it made such an impression upon me that, 
although it is now more than twenty-six years ago, I seem to 
have Him present with me still. I was greatly astonished and 
upset about it and I never wanted to see that person again. 

It did me great harm not to know that it was possible to 
see anything otherwise than with the eyes of the body. It was 
the devil who encouraged me in this ignorance and made me 
think that anything else was impossible. He led me to believe 
that I had imagined it all, and that it might have been the work 
of the devil, and other things of that kind. I always had an idea 
that it was not due to my fancy but came from God. However, 
just because the vision did not please me, I forced myself to give 

1 [The Saint wrote, no doubt madvertendy, "that did not displease Him".] P. 
Banez corrected this to: "that He did not like" 



VII] LIFE 41 

the lie to my own instinct; and, as I dared not discuss it with 
anyone, and after a time great importunity was brought to bear 
on me, I entered into relations with that person once again. I 
was assured that there was no harm in my seeing such a person, 
and that by doing so I should not injure my good name 1 but 
rather enhance it. On subsequent occasions I got to know 
other people in the same way; and I spent many years in this 
pestilential pastime, which, whenever I was engaged in it, never 
seemed to me as bad as it really was, though sometimes I saw 
clearly that it was not good. But no one caused me as much 
distraction as did the person of whom I am speaking, for I was 
very fond of her. 

On another occasion, when I was with that same person, we 
saw coming towards us and others who were there saw this 
too something like a great toad, but crawling much more 
quickly than toads are wont to do. I cannot imagine how such 
a reptile could have come from the place in question in broad 
daylight; it had never happened before, and the incident 
made such an impression on me that I think it must have had 
a hidden meaning, and I have never forgotten this either. 
O greatness of God! With what care and compassion didst 
Thou warn me in every way and how little did I profit by Thy 
warnings ! 

There was a nun in that convent, who was a relative of mine; 
she had been there a long time and was a great servant of God 
and devoted to the Rule of her Order. She, too, occasionally 
warned me ; and not only did I disbelieve her but I was displeased 
with her, for I thought she was shocked without cause. I have 
mentioned this in order to make clear my wickedness and the 
great goodness of God and to show how by this great ingratitude 
of mine I had merited hell. I also mention it in order that, if 
it is the Lord's will and pleasure that it shall be read at any 
time by a nun, she may be warned by me. I beg all nuns, for 
the love of Our Lord, to flee from such pastimes as these. May 
His Majesty grant that some of those whom I have led astray 
may be set in the right path by me; I used to tell them that there 
was nothing wrong in this practice, and, blind that I was, reassure 
them about what was in reality a great danger. I would never 
have deliberately deceived them; but, through the bad example 
that I set them, as I have said, I was the cause of a great deal 
of wrong-doing without ever thinking I could be. 

In those early days, during my illness, and. before I knew 
how to take care of myself, I used to have the greatest desire to 
be of use to others. This is a very common temptation in begin- 

1 [Honra.] 



42 LIFE [CHAP. 

ners; in my case, however, its effects were good. I was so fond 
of my father that I longed for him to experience the benefit 
which I seemed to be deriving from the practice of prayer myself, 
for I thought that in this life there could be nothing greater. 
So by indirect methods, and to the best of my ability, I began to 
try to get him to practise it. To this end I gave him books to 
read. Being very virtuous, as I have said he was, he took so well 
to this exercise that in five or six years (I think it must have been 1 ) 
he had made such progress that I praised the Lord greatly and 
was wonderfully encouraged. He had to bear the severest 
trials of many different kinds and he bore them with the greatest 
resignation. He often came to see me, for he derived great com- 
fort from speaking of the things of God. 

But now that I had fallen away so far, and no longer practised 
prayer, I could not bear him to think, as I saw he did, that I 
was still just as I used to be; so I had to undeceive him. For I 
had been a year or more without praying, thinking that to 
refrain from prayer was a sign of greater humility. This, as I 
shall afterwards explain, was the greatest temptation I had: 
it nearly brought about my ruin. For during the time I practised 
prayer, if I had offended God one day, I would recollect myself 
on the following days and withdraw farther from occasions of 
sin. When that dear good man came to visit me, it was very 
hard for me to see him under the false impression that I was still 
communing with God as I had been doing before. So I told him 
that I was no longer praying, without telling him the reason. 
I made my illnesses an excuse; for, though I had recovered from 
that very serious illness, I have suffered ever since from indis- 
positions, and sometimes from grave ones, even to this day. 
For some time my complaints have been less troublesome, 
but they have by no means left me. In particular, for twenty 
years I suffered from morning sickness, so that I was not able 
to break my fast until after midday sometimes not until much 
later. Now that I go oftener to Communion, I have to bring 
on the sickness at night, with feathers or in some other way, 
before I go to bed, which is much more distressing; but if I let 
it take its course I feel much worse. I think I can hardly ever be 
free from aches and pains, and sometimes very serious ones, 
especially in the heart, although the trouble which I once had 
continually now occurs only rarely, and I have been free for 
quite eight years from the paralysis and the feverish complaints 

1 [Hardly quite so long, as] it seems certain that Don Alonso died on December 24, 
1543. His will is dated December 3, 1543, an< l ^ son an( i executor Lorenzo opened 
it on December 26 [P. Silverio reproduces documents which disprove MIT'S date of 
1545 for Don Alonso's death.] 



VII] LIFE 43 

from which I used often to suffer. Of these troubles I now make 
such little account that I often rejoice in them, thinking that 
to some extent they are pleasing to the Lord. 

My father believed me when I told him that it was because of 
my health that I had ceased to pray, since he never told a 
lie himself, and, in view of the relations between us, there 
was no reason why I should have done so either. I told him, 
in order to make my story the more credible (for I well knew that 
I had no such excuse really), that it was as much as I could do to 
attend the choir offices. Not that this would be any sufficient 
reason for giving up something which needs no bodily strength, 
but only love and the formation of a habit; and the Lord always 
gives us an opportunity if we want one. I say always; for, though 
there may be times when we are prevented by various hind- 
rances, and even by illness, from spending much time alone, 
there are plenty of others when we are in sufficiently good health 
to do so. And even despite illness, or other hindrances, we can 
still engage in true prayer, when there is love in the soul, by 
offering up that very impediment, remembering Him for Whom 
we suffer it and being resigned to it and to a thousand other 
things which may happen to us. It is here that love comes in; 
for we are not necessarily praying when we are alone, nor need 
we refrain from praying when we are not. 

With a little care, great blessings can be acquired at times 
when the Lord deprives us of our hours of prayer by sending us 
trials; and this I had myself found to be the case when my 
conscience had been good. But my father, holding the opinion 
of me that he did and loving me as he did, believed everything 
I told him and in fact was sorry for me. As he had now reached 
such a high state of prayer he used not to stay with me for so 
long, but after he had seen me would go away, saying that he 
was wasting his time. As I was wasting mine on other vanities, 
this remark made little impression upon me. There were other 
persons, as well as my father, whom I tried to lead into the 
practice of prayer. Indulging in vanities myself though I was, 
when I saw people who were fond of saying their prayers, I 
would show them how to make a meditation and help them and 

r've them books; for ever since I began to pray, as I have said, 
had this desire that others should serve God. And now that I 
was no longer serving the Lord according to my ability, I thought 
that the knowledge which His Majesty had given me ought not 
to be lost and wanted others to learn to serve Him through me. 
I say this in order to show how great was my blindness, which 
allowed me to do such harm to myself and yet to try to be" of 
profit to others. 



44 LIFE [CHAP. 

It was at this time that my father was stricken by the illness 
of which he died. It lasted for some days. I went to look after 
him, more afflicted in soul than he in body, on account of my 
vanities, though, as far as I was aware, I was never in mortal 
sin during the whole of this wasted time of which I am speaking: 
if I had known myself to be so I would on no account have 
continued in it. I was greatly distressed by his illness and I believe 
I was able to return him some part of all he had done for me 
when I was ill myself. Distressed as I was, I forced myself into 
activity; and though in losing him I lost my greatest blessing and 
comfort, for he was always that to me, I was so determined not to 
let him see my grief for as long as he lived that I behaved as if 
I felt no grief at all. Yet so dearly did I love him that, when I 
saw his life was ending, I felt as if my very soul were being torn 
from me. 

The Lord must be praised for the death which he died, for 
his desire to die, for the advice which he gave us after receiving 
Extreme Unction, and for the way he charged 'us to commend 
him to God, to pray for mercy upon him and to serve God always, 
remembering how all things come to an end. He told us with 
tears how deeply grieved he was that he had not served God 
better: he would have liked to be a friar and by that I mean 
to have joined one of the strictest Orders in existence. I am 
quite sure that a fortnight before his death the Lord had made 
him realize that he would not live much longer; for down to 
that time, ill though he was, he had not believed he would die. 
But during that last fortnight, though he got much better and 
the doctors told him so, he took no notice of them but occupied 
himself in putting his soul right with God. 

His chief ailment was a most acute pain in the back, which 
never left him: at times it was so severe that it caused him 
great anguish. I said to him that, as he used to think so devoutly 
of the Lord carrying the Cross on His back, he must suppose 
His Majesty wished him to feel something of what He Himself 
had suffered under that trial. This comforted him so much 
that I do not think I ever heard him complain again. For three 
days he was practically unconscious ; biit, on the day of his death, 
the Lord restored his consciousness so completely that we were 
astonished, and he remained conscious until, half-way through 
the Greed, which he was repeating to himself, he died. He looked 
like an angel; and so he seemed to me, as one might say, both 
in his soul and in his disposition, for he was very good. I do not 
know why I have said this, unless it be to blame myself the more 
fof my wicked life; for, after witnessing such a death and realizing 
what his life had been, I ought to have tried to do something 



VII] LIFE 45 

to resemble such a father by growing better. His confessor, who 
was a Dominican 1 and a very learned man, used to say that he 
had not the least doubt he had gone straight to Heaven; he 
had been his confessor for some years and spoke highly of his 
purity of conscience. 

This Dominican father, who was a very good man and had a 

great fear of God, was of the very greatest help to me. I made 

my confessions to him and he took great pains to lead my soul 

aright and make me realize how near I was to perdition. He made 

me communicate once a fortnight; and gradually, as I got to 

know him, I began to tell him about my prayers. He told me 

never to leave these ofT, for they could not possibly do me anything 

but good. So I began to take them up once more (though I 

did not flee from occasions of sin) and I never again abandoned 

them. My life became full of trials, because by means of prayer 

I learned more and more about my faults. On the one hand, 

God was calling me. On the other, I was following the world. 

All the things of God gave me great pleasure, yet I was tied and 

bound to those of the world. It seemed as if I wanted to reconcile 

these two contradictory things, so completely opposed to one 

another the life of the spirit and the pleasures and joys and 

pastimes of the senses. I suffered great trials in prayer, for the 

spirit was not master in me, but slave. I could not, therefore, 

shut myself up within myself (the procedure in which consisted 

my whole method of prayer) without at the same time shutting 

in a thousand vanities. I spent many years in this way, and now 

I am amazed that a person could have gone on for so long 

without giving up either the one or the other. I know quite well 

that by that time it was,no longer in my power to give up prayer, 

because He who desired me for His own in order to show me 

greater favours held me Himself in His hand. 

Oh, God help me! If only I could describe the occasions of 
sin during these years from which God delivered me, and tell 
how I plunged into them again and how He continually saved 
me from the danger of losing my entire reputation ! I would show 
by my actions the kind of person I was; yet the Lord would hide 
the wrongs I did and reveal some small virtue, if I had any, 
and magnify it in the eyes of all, so that people invariably had 
i high opinion of me. For, although my vanities were some- 
imes crystal-clear, they would not believe them to be such when 
iiey observed other things in me which they considered good. 
This happened because He Who knows all things saw it to be 
accessary, in order that hereafter I might be given some credence 
when speaking of things that concern His service. His sovereign 

1 P. Vicente Barr6n [Of. p. 27, n. 2 V above.] 



46 LIFE [CHAP. 

bounty regarded not my great sins but the desires which I so 
often had to serve Him. and my grief at not having in myself 
the strength to turn the desires into actions. 

O Lord of my soul ! How can I magnify the favours which 
Thou didst bestow upon me during these years? And how, at 
the very time when I was offending Thee most sorely, didst 
Thou suddenly prepare me, by the deepest repentance, to taste 
Thy favours and graces ! In truth, my King, Thou didst choose 
the most delicate and grievous chastisement that I could possibly 
have to bear, for well didst Thou know what would cause me 
the greatest pain. Thou didst chastise my faults with great 
favours. And I do not believe I am speaking foolishly, though 
well might I become distraught when I recall to mind my 
ingratitude and wickedness. In the condition I was in at that 
time, it was much more painful for me, when I had fallen into 
grievous faults, to be given favours, than to be given punish- 
ments. A single one of these faults, I feel sure, troubled and 
confounded and distressed me more than many sicknesses and 
many other grievous trials all put together. For these last I 
knew that I deserved and thought that by them I was making 
some amends for my sins, although my sins were so numerous 
that everything I could do was very little. But when I find 
myself receiving new favours, after making so poor a return 
for those I have received already, I experience a kind of torture 
which is terrible to me, as I thank it must be to all who have 
any knowledge or love of God. We can deduce our own un- 
worthiness by imagining a state of real virtue. This accounts 
for my tears and vexation when I took stock of my own feelings, 
and realized that I was in such a state as to be on the point 
of falling again and again, though my resolutions and desires 
at that time, I mean were quite steadfast. 

It is a great evil for a soul beset by so many dangers to be 
alone. I believe, if I had had anyone with whom to discuss, 
all this, it would have helped me not to fall again, if only because 
I should have been ashamed in his sight, which I was not 
in the sight of God. For this reason I would advise those "who 
practise prayer, especially at first, to cultivate friendship and 
intercourse with others of similar interests. This is a most im- 
portant thing, if only because we can help each other by 
our prayers, and it is all the more so because it may bring 
us many other benefits. Since people can find comfort in the 
conversation and human sympathy of ordinary friendships, even 
when these are not altogether good, I do not know why anyone 
who is beginning to love and serve God in earnest should not , 
be allowed to discuss his joys and trials with others and people 



VII] LIFE 47 

who practise prayer have plenty of both. For, if the friendship 
which such a person desires to have with His Majesty is true 
friendship, he need not be afraid of becoming vainglorious : as 
soon as the first motion of vainglory attacks him, he will repel 
it, and, in doing so, gain merit* I believe that anyone who 
discusses the subject with this in mind will profit both himself 
and his hearers, and will be all the wiser for it; and, without 
realizing he is doing so, will edify his friends. 

Anyone who could become vainglorious through discussing 
these matters would become equally so by hearing Mass with 
devotion in a place where people can see him, and by doing 
other things which he is obliged to do under pain of being 
no Christian at all : he cannot possibly refrain from doing these 
through fear of vainglory. This is also most important for souls 
which are not strengthened in virtue; they have so many enemies 
and friends to incite them to do what is wrong that I cannot 
insist upon it sufficiently. It seems to me that this scruple is an 
invention of the devil, who finds it extremely valuable. He 
uses it to persuade those who are anxious to try to love and 
please God to hide their good desires, while inciting others, 
whose wills are evilly inclined, to reveal their wrong intentions. 
This happens so frequently that people now seem to glory in 
it and the offences committed in this way against God are 
published openly. 

I do not know if the things I am saying are nonsense : if so, 
Your Reverence must erase them; if not, I beg you to help 
my simplicity by adding to them freely. For people trouble so 
little about things pertaining to the service of God that we 
must all back each other up 1 if those of us who serve Him are 
to make progress. People think, it a good thing to follow the 
pleasures and vanities of the world and there are few who look 
askance at these; but if a single person begins to devote himself 
to God, there are so many to speak ill of him that self-defence 
compels him to seek the companionship of others until he is 
strong enough not to be depressed by suffering. Unless he does 
this he will find himself in continual difficulties. It must have 
been for this reason, I think, that some of the saints were in the 
habit of going into the desert. It is a kind of humility for a 
man not to trust himself but to believe that God will help him 
in dealing with those with whom he has intercourse. Charity 
grows when it is communicated to others and from this there 
result a thousand blessings. I should not dare to say this if I 
had not had a great deal of experience of its importance. It 
is true that of all who are born I am the weakest and wickedest; 

1 [The metaphor, hacerse espaldas, is St. Teresa's.] 



48 LIFE [CHAP. 

but I believe that anyone, however strong, who humbles himself 
and trusts not in himself but in someone who has experience, 
will lose nothing. As regards myself, I can say that, if the Lord 
had not revealed this truth to me and given me the means of 
speaking very frequently with people who practise prayer, I 
should have gone on rising and falling again until I fell right 
into hell. For I had many friends who helped me to fall; but, 
when it came to rising again, I found myself so completely alone 
that I marvel now that I did not remain where I was, and I 
praise the mercy of God, Who alone gave me His hand. May 
He be blessed for ever. Amen. 



CHAPTER VIII 

Treats of the great benefit which she derived from not entirely giving up 
prayer lest she should ruin her soul. Describes the excellence of 
prayer as a help towards regaining what one has lost. Urges all 
to practise it. Says what great gain it brings and how great a 
benefit it is, even for those who may later give it up, to spend some 
time on a thing which is so good. 

It is not without reason that I have dwelt upon this period 
of my life at such length. I know well that nobody will derive 
any pleasure from reading about anyone so wicked, and I sin- 
cerely hope that those who read this will hold me in abhorrence, 
when they see that a soul which had received such great favours 
could be so obstinate and ungrateful. I wish I could be allowed 
to describe the many occasions on which I failed God during 
this period through not having leaned upon this strong pillar 
of prayer. 

I spent nearly twenty years on that stormy sea, often falling 
in this way and each time rising again, but to little purpose, 
as I would only fall once more. My life was so far from perfection 
that I took hardly any notice of venial sins; as to mortal sins, 
although afraid of them, I was not so much so as I ought to 
have been; for I did not keep free from the danger of falling 
into them. I can testify that this is one of the most grievous 
kinds of life which I think can be imagined, for I had neither 
any joy in God nor any pleasure in the world. When I was 
in the midst of worldly pleasures, I was distressed by the remem- 
brance of what I owed to God; when I was with God, I grew 
restless because of worldly affections. This is so grievous a con- 
flict that I do not know how I managed to endure it for a month, 



VIII] LIFE 49 

much less for so many years. Nevertheless, I can see how great 
was the Lord's mercy to me, since, while I was still having 
intercourse with the world. He gave me courage to practise 
prayer. I say courage, because I know nothing in the world 
that needs more of this than to be dealing treacherously with 
the King and to know that He is aware of it and yet never to 
leave His presence. For, although we are always in the presence 
of God, it seems to me that those who practise prayer are specially 
so, because they can see all the time that He is looking at them; 
whereas others may be in God's presence for several days with- 
out ever remembering that He can see them. 

It is true that, during these years, there were many months 
once, I believe, there was as much as a whole year in which 
I kept myself from offending the Lord, devoted myself earnestly 
to prayer and took various and very careful precautions not to 
offend Him. As all that I have written is set down in the strictest 
truth, I am saying this now. But I remember little about these 
good days, so there can have been few of them, whereas the 
bad ones must have been numerous. Yet not many days would 
pass without my spending long periods in prayer, unless I was 
very ill or very busy. When I was ill, I was nearer to God; 
and I contrived that the persons who were around me should 
be near Him too and I begged the Lord that this might be so 
and often spoke of Him. So, not counting the year I have referred 
to, more than eighteen of the twenty-eight years which have 
gone by since I began prayer have been spent in this battle and 
conflict which arose from my having relations both with God 
and with the world. During the remaining years, of which I 
have still to speak, the conflict has not been light, but its causes 
have changed; as I believe I have been serving God and have 
come to know the vanity inherent in the world, everything has 
gone smoothly, as I shall say later. 

Now the reason why I have related all this is, as I have already 
said, to make evident God's mercy and my own ingratitude. 
Another reason is to show what great blessings God grants to 
a soul when He prepares it to love the practice of prayer, though 
it may not be as well prepared already as it should be; and how, 
if that soul perseveres, notwithstanding the sins, temptations and 
falls of a thousand kinds into which the devil leads it, the Lord, 
I am certain, will bring it to -the harbour of salvation, just as, 
so far as can at present be told, He has brought me. May His 
Majesty grant that I may never again be lost. 

The blessings possessed by one who practises prayer I mean 
mental prayer have been Written of by many saints and good 
men. Glory be to God for this ! If it were not so, I should not 



50 LIFE [CHAP. 

have assurance enough (though I am not very humble) to dare 
to speak of it. I can say what I know by experience namely, 
that no one who has begun this practice, however many sins 
he may commit, should ever forsake it. For it is the means by 
which we may amend our lives again, and without it amend- 
ment will be very much harder. So let him not be tempted by 
the devil, as I was, to give it up for reasons of humility, but let 
him believe that the words cannot fail of Him Who says that, 
if we truly repent and determine not to offend Him, He will 
resume His former friendship with us and grant us the favours 
which He granted aforetime, and sometimes many more, if our 
repentance merits it. 1 And anyone who has not begun to pray, 
I beg, for love of the Lord, not to miss so great a blessing. There 
is no place here for fear, but only for desire. For, even if a 
person fails to make progress, or to strive after perfection, so 
that he may merit the consolations and favours given to the 
perfect by God, yet he will gradually gain a knowledge of the 
road to Heaven. And if he perseveres, I hope in the mercy of 
God, Whom no one has ever taken for a Friend without being 
rewarded; and mental prayer, in my view, is nothing but friendly 
intercourse, and frequent solitary converse, with Him Who we 
know loves us. If love is to be true and friendship lasting, cer- 
tain conditions are necessary: on the Lord's side we know these 
cannot fail, but our nature is vicious, sensual and ungrateful. 
You cannot therefore succeed in loving Him as much as He 
loves you, because it is not in your nature to do so. If, then, 
you do not yet love Him, you will realize how much it means 
to you to have His friendship and how much He loves you, 
and you will gladly endure' the troubles which arise from being 2 
so much with One Who is so different from you. 

O infinite goodness of my God! It is thus that I seem to see 
both myself and Thee. O Joy of the angels, how I long, when 
I think of this, to be wholly consumed in love for Thee ! How 
true it is that Thou dost bear with those who cannot bear Thee 
to be with them ! Oh, how good a Friend art Thou, my Lord ! 
How Thou dost comfort us and suffer us and wait until our 
nature becomes more like Thine and meanwhile dost bear with 
it as it is! Thou dost remember the times when we Itfve Thee, 
my Lord, and, when for a moment we repent, Thou dost forget 
how we have offended Thee. I have seen this clearly in my 
own life, and I cannot conceive, my Creator, why the whole 

1 [An apparent reference to Ezechiel xviii, 21.] 

8 [Lit: "the grief (pena) of being. . . ." "Discomfort," "embarrassment," "de- 
pression" would be modern equivalents of the substantive, but none of these is suffi-* 
cxently comprehensive. St. Teresa is referring to all the varied reactions produced 
in man by lie contact between his littleness and the greatness of God .] 



VIII] LIFE 51 

world does not strive to draw near to Thee in this intimate 
friendship. Those of us who are wicked, and whose nature is 
not like Thine, ought to draw near to Thee so that Thou rnayest 
make them good. They should allow Thee to be with them 
for at least two hours each day, even though they may not be 
with Thee, but are perplexed, as I was, with a thousand worldly 
cares and thoughts. In exchange for the effort which it costs 
them to desire to be in such good company (for Thou knowest. 
Lord, that at first this is as much as they can do and sometimes 
they can do no more at all) Thou dost prevent the devils from 
assaulting them so that each day they are able to do them less 
harm, and Thou givest them strength to conquer. Yea, Life of 
all lives, Thou slayest none of those that put their trust in 
Thee and desire Thee for their Friend; rather dost Thou sustain 
their bodily life with greater health and give life to their 
souls. 

I do not understand the fears of those who are afraid to begin 
mental prayer: I do not know what they are afraid o The 
devil does well to instil fear into us so that he may do us real 
harm. By making me afraid he stops me from thinking of the 
ways in which I have offended God and of all I owe Him and 
of the reality of hell and of glory and of the great trials and 
griefs which He suffered for me. That was the whole extent 
of my prayer, and remained so for as long as I was subject to 
these perils, and it was about these things that I used to think 
whenever I could; and very often, over a period of several years, 
I was more occupied in wishing my hour of prayer were over, 
and in listening whenever the clock struck, than in thinking 
of things that were good. Again and again, I would rather 
have done any severe penance that might have been given me 
than practise recollection as a preliminary to prayer. It is a 
fact that, either through the intolerable power of the devil's 
assaults or because of my own bad habits, I did not at once 
betake myself to prayer; and whenever I entered the oratory 
I used to feel so depressed that I had to summon up all my 
courage to make myself pray at all. (People say that I have 
little courage, and it is dear that God has given me much more 
than to most women, only I have made bad use of it.) In the 
end, the Lord would come to my help. Afterwards, when I had 
forced myself to pray, I would find that I had more tranquillity 
and happiness than at certain other times when I had prayed 
because I had wanted to. 

Now if the Lord bore for so long with such a wicked creature 
as I and it is quite clear that it was in this way that all my 
wrong was put right what other person, however wicked he 



52 LIFE [CHAP. 

may be, can have any reason for fear? For, bad though he be, 
he will not remain so for all the years I did after having received 
so many favours from the Lord. Who can possibly despair, when 
He bore so long with me, merely because I desired and sought 
out some place and time for Him to be with me and that often 
happened without my willing it because I forced myself to seek 
it, or rather the Lord Himself forced me? If, then, prayer is so 
good, and so necessary, for those who do not serve God, but 
offend Him, and if no one can possibly discover any harm that 
prayer can do him which would not be much greater if he did 
not practise it, why should those who serve and desire to serve 
God give it up? Really I cannot see any reason, unless it is that 
they want to endure the trials of life by adding more trials to 
them and to shut the door upon God so that Fie shall not 
give them the joy of prayer. I am indeed sorry for such people, 
for they are serving God at great cost to themselves. But when 
people practise prayer the Lord Himself bears the cost: in 
exchange for a little labour on their part, He gives them such 
consolation as will enable them to bear their trials. 

As I shall have a great deal to say about these consolations 
which the Lord gives to those who persevere in prayer, I am saying 
nothing here : I will only observe that prayer is the door to those 
great favours which He has bestowed upon me. Once the door 
is closed, I do not see how He will bestow them; for, though 
He may wish to take His delight in a soul and to give the soul 
delight, there is no way for Him to do so, since He must have it 
alone and pure, -and desirous of receiving His favours. If we 
place numerous hindrances in His path, and do nothing to remove 
them, how can He come to us? And yet we wish God to grant 
us great favours! 

In order that it may be seen what mercy He showed me and 
what a great blessing it was for me that I did not give up prayer 
and reading, I will now describe something which it is very im- 
portant should be understood the assaults which the devil makes 
upon a soul in order to conquer it for his own, and the art and the 
loving-kindness with which the Lord endeavours to bring it back 
to Himself. My readers will then be on the watch for the perils for 
which I was not watchful myself. And, above all, I beg them, for 
the love of Our Lord, and for the great love -wherewith He is 
continually seeking to bring us back to Himself, to be on the watch 
for occasions of sin; for, once we are in the midst of these, we have 
no cause for confidence, being attacked, as we are, by so many 
enemies and being so weak when it comes to defending ourselves. 

I wish I knew how to describe the captivity of my soul at that 
time. I fully realized that I was a prisoner, and yet I could not see 



VIII] LIFE 53 

how, nor could I really believe that things which my confessors 
did not represent as being very serious were as wrong as in my 
soul I felt them^ to be. One of these confessors, when I went to 
him with a scruple, told me that, even if I were experiencing high 
contemplation, such intercourse and such occasions of sin were 
not doing me any harm. This was at the end of that period, when, 
by the grace of God, I was withdrawing farther and farther from 
grave perils, though I did not altogether flee from the occasions 
of them. When my confessors saw that I had good desires and was 
spending my time in prayer, they thought I was doing a great deal. 
But in my heart of hearts I knew that I was not doing what I was 
bound to do for Him to Whom I owed so much. I regret now all 
that my soul suffered and the scant help it had from anyone save 
God, and the numerous opportunities that were given it to in- 
dulge its pastimes and pleasures by those who said that these were 
lawful. 

Sermons, again, caused me no small torture, for I was extremely 
fond of them, so that if I heard anyone preach a good, earnest 
sermon, I would conceive a special affection for him, without in 
any way trying to do so: I do not know to what this was due. 
A sermon rarely seemed to me so bad that I failed to listen to it 
with pleasure, even when others who heard it considered that the 
preaching was not good. If it were good, it- was a very special 
refreshment to me. To speak of God, or to listen to others speaking 
of Him, hardly ever wearied me this, of course, after I began to 
practise prayer. In one way I used to find great comfort in sermons ; 
in another, they would torture me, because they would make me 
realize that I was not what I ought to be, or anything approaching 
it. I used to beseech the Lord to help me; but I now believe I 
must have failed to put my whole confidence in His Majesty and 
to have a complete distrust in myself. I sought for a remedy, 
and took great trouble to find one, but I could not have realized 
that all our efforts are unavailing unless we completely give up 
having confidence in ourselves and fix it all upon God. I wanted 
to live, for I knew quite well that I was not living at all 
but battling with a shadow of death; but there was no one to 
give me life and I was unable to take it for myself. He Who could 
have given it me was right not to help me, since He had so often 
brought me back to Himself and I had as often left Him. 



54 LIFE [CHAP. 



CHAPTER IX 

Describes the means by which the Lord began to awaken her soul and to 
give her light amid such great darkness, and to strengthen the virtues 
in her so that she should not of end Him. 

By this time my soul was growing weary, and, though it desired 
to rest, the miserable habits which now enslaved it would not 
allow it to do so. It happened that, entering the oratory one day, 
I saw an image which had been procured for a certain festival 
that was observed in the house and had been taken there to be 
kept for that purpose. It represented Christ sorely wounded; 1 
and so conducive was it to devotion that when I looked at it I 
was deeply moved to see Him thus, so well did it picture what He 
suffered for us. So great was my distress when I thought how ill 
I had repaid Him for those wounds that I felt as if my heart were 
breaking, and I threw myself down beside Him, shedding floods 
of tears and begging Him to give me strength once for all so that 
I might not offend Him. 

I had a great devotion to the glorious Magdalen and often 
thought t)f her conversion, especially when I communicated, for, 
knowing that the Lord was certainly within me then, I would place 
myself at His feet, thinking that my tears would not be rejected. 
I did not know what I was saying; but in allowing me to shed 
those tears He was very gracious to me, since I so soon forgot my 
grief; and I used to commend myself to that glorious Saint so 
that she might obtain pardon for me. 

But on this last occasion when I saw that image of which I am 
speaking, I think I must have made greater progress, because I 
had quite lost trust in myself and was placing all my confidence 
in God. I believe I told Him then that I would not rise from that 
spot until He had granted me what I was beseeching of Him. 
And I feel sure that this did me good, for from that time onward 
I began to improve. My method of prayer was this. As I could 
not reason with my mind, I would try to make pictures of Christ 
inwardly; and I used to think 'I felt better when I dwelt on those 
parts of His life when He was most often alone. It seemed to 
me that His being alone and afflicted, like a person in need, 
made it possible for me to approach Him. I had many simple 
thoughts of this kind. I was particularly attached to the prayer 

1 Tradition has it that this was an Ecce Homo, which is still venerated in the Convent 
of the Incarnation, though some writers have described it as a representation of Christ 
bound to the Column. 



IX] LIFE 55 

in the Garden, where I would go to keep Him company. I would 
think of the sweat and of the affliction He endured there. I wished 
I could have wiped that grievous sweat from His face, but I 
remember that I never dared to resolve to do so, for the gravity 
of my sins stood in the way. I used to remain with Him there for 
as long as my thoughts permitted it: I had many thoughts which 
tormented me. 

For many years, on most nights before I fell asleep, when I 
would commend myself to God so as to sleep well, I used to think, 
for a little of that scene the prayer in the Garden and this 
even before I was a nun, for I was told that many indulgences 
could be gained by so doing; and I feel sure that my soul gained 
a great deal in this way, because I began to practise prayer 
without knowing what it was, and the very habitualness of the 
custom prevented me from abandoning it, just as I never omitted 
making the sign of the Cross before going to sleep. 

To return now to what I was saying about the torture caused 
me by my thoughts : this method of praying in which the mind 
makes no reflections means that the soul must either gain a great 
deal or lose itself I mean by its attention going astray. 1 If 
it advances, it goes a long way, because it is moved by love. 
But those who arrive thus far will do so only at great cost to them- 
selves, save when the Lord is pleased to call them very speedily 
to the Prayer of Quiet, as He has called a few people whom I 
know. It is a good thing for those who follow this method to 
have a book at hand, so that they may quickly recollect themselves. 
It used also to help me to look at a field, or water, or flowers. 
These reminded me of the Creator I mean, they awakened me, 
helped me to recollect myself and thus served me as a book; 
they reminded me, too, of my ingratitude and sins. But when it 
came to heavenly things, or to any sublime subject, my mind 
was so stupid that I could never imagine them at all, until the 
Lord showed them to me in another way. 

I had so little ability for picturing things in my mind that if I 
did not actually see a thing I could not use my imagination, as 
other people do, who can make pictures to themselves and so 
become recollected. Of Christ as Man I could only think: however 
much I read about His beauty and however often I looked at 
pictures of Him, I could never form any picture of Him myself. 
I was like a person who is blind, or in the dark: he may be talking 
to someone; and kn'ow that he is with him, because he is quite sure 
he is there I mean, he understands and believes he is there 
but he cannot see him. Thus it was with me when I thought 

1 [The original has an untranslatable play upon words: /#., "must be (stc) gained 
or lost a great deal I mean (its) meditation (will be) lost."] 



56 LIFE [CHAP. 

of Our Lord. It was for this reason that I was so fond of pictures. 
Unhappy are those who through their own fault lose this blessing ! 
It really looks as if they do not love the Lord, for if they loved 
Him they would delight in looking at pictures of Him, just as they 
take pleasure in seeing pictures of anyone else whom they love. 

It was at this time that I was given the Confessions of Saint 
Augustine^ and I think the Lord must have ordained this, for I 
did not ask for the book nor had I ever seen it. I have a great 
affection for Saint Augustine, because the convent in which I had 
lived before becoming a nun belonged to his Order, and also 
because he had been a sinner. I used to find a great deal of com- 
fort in reading about the lives of saints who had been sinners before 
the Lord brought them back to Himself. As He had forgiven them 
I thought that He might do the same for me. There was only one 
thing that troubled me, and this I have already mentioned: 
namely that, after the Lord had once called them, they did not fall 
again, whereas I had fallen so often that I was distressed by it. But 
when I thought of His love for me, I would take heart once more, 
for I never doubted His mercy, though I often doubted myself. 

Oh, God help me! How amazed I am when I think how hard 
my heart was despite all the help I had received from Him! 
It really frightens me to remember how little I could do by myself 
and how I was so tied and bound that I could not resolve to give 
myself wholly to God. When I started to read the * Confessions, 
I seemed to see myself in them and I began to commend myselif 
often to that glorious Saint. When I got as far as his conversion 
and read how he heard that voice in the garden, 2 it seemed 
exactly as if the Lord were speaking in that way to me, or so my 
heart felt. I remained for a long time dissolved in tears, in great 
distress and affliction. Dear God, what a soul suffers and what tor- 
ments it endures when it loses its freedom to be its own master ! I am 
astonished now that I was able to live in such a state of torment. 
God be praised, Who gave me life to forsake such utter death ! 

I believe my soul gained great strength from the Divine Majesty: 
He must have heard my cries and had compassion on all my tears. 
I began to long to spend more time with Him, and to drive away 
occasions of sin, for, once they had gone, I would feel a new love 
for His Majesty. I knew that, so far as I could tell, I loved Him, 
but I did not know, as I should have done, what true love of God 

1 A Spanish translation of the Confessions was made by a Portuguese, P. Sebastian 
Toscano, and dedicated by him to Dona Leonor de Mascarenas, a great friend of St. 
Teresa (Cf. Foundations, Chap. XVII: Vol. Ill, p. 81, below) : the dedication is dated 
January 15, 1554. [If, as is likely, this was the edition given to the Saint, the incident 
supports a later date than 1554-5, which is the date commonly given, for her "second 
conversion ".] 

* [Confessions, Bk. VIII, Chap. XII.] 



IX] LIFE 57 

really means. I think I had not yet quite prepared myself to want 
to serve Him when His Majesty began to grant me favours again. 
It really seems that the Lord found a way to make me desire to 
receive what others strive to acquire with great labour that is to 
say, during these latter years, He gave me consolations and favours. 
I never presumed to beg Him to give me either these things or 
tenderness in devotion : I only asked for grace not to offend Him 
and for the pardon of my grievous sins. Knowing how grievous they 
were, I never dared consciously to desire favours or consolations. 
His compassion, I think, worked in me abundantly, and in truth 
He showed me great mercy in allowing me to be with Him and 
bringing me into His presence, which I knew I should not have 
entered had He not so disposed it. Only once in my life at a 
time when I was suffering from great aridity do I remember 
having asked Him for consolations, and when I realized what 
I was doing I became so distressed that my very shame at finding 
myself so lacking in humility gave me what I had presumed to 
ask. I knew quite well that it was lawful to ask for it, but I thought 
it was only so for those who have done all in their power to obtain 
true devotion by not offending God and by being ready and 
determined to do all that is good. Those tears of mine, as they did 
not obtain for me what I desired, seemed to me effeminate and 
weak. But all the same I think they were of some benefit to me; 
for, as I say, especially after those two occasions when they caused 
me such compunction and such distress of heart, I began to devote 
myself more to prayer and to have less to do with things that were 
hurtful for me: these last I did not wholly abandon, but, as I say, 
God kept on ^helping me to turn from them. As His Majesty 
was only awaiting some preparedness on my part, His spiritual 
favours continually increased, in the way I shall describe. It is not 
usual for the Lord to give them save to those who have a greater 
purity of conscience. 



CHAPTER X 

Begins to describe the favours which the Lord granted her in prayer. 
Explains what part we ourselves can play here, and how important 
it is that we should understand the favours which the Lord is granting 
us. Asks those to whom she is sending this that the remainder of what 
she writes may be kept secret, since she has been commanded to 
describe in great detail the favours granted her by the Lord. 

I used sometimes, as I have said, to experience in an ele- 
mentary form, and very fleetingly, what I shall now describe* 



58 LIFE [CHAP. 

When picturing Christ in the way I have mentioned, and some- 
times even when reading, I used unexpectedly to experience a 
consciousness of the presence of God, of such a kind that I could 
not possibly doubt that He was within me or that I was wholly 
engulfed in Him. This was in no sense a vision: I believe it is 
called mystical theology. The soul is suspended in such a way that 
it seems to be completely outside itself. The will loves ; the memory, 
I think, is almost lost; while the understanding, I believe, though 
it is not lost, does not reason I mean that it does not work, but 
is amazed at the extent of all it can understand; for God wills 
it to realize that it understands nothing, of what His Majesty 
represents to it. 

Previously to this, I had experienced a tenderness in devotion, 
some part of which, I think, can be obtained by one's own 
efforts. This is a favour neither wholly of sense nor wholly of 
spirit, but entirely the gift of God. It seems, however, that we 
can do a great deal towards the obtaining of it by reflecting on 
our lowliness and our ingratitude to God, on the great things 
that He has done for us, on His Passion, with its grievous pains, 
and on His life, which was so full of afflictions. We can also 
do much by rejoicing in the contemplation of His works, His 
greatness. His love for us, and a great deal more. Anyone 
really anxious to make progress often lights upon such things 
as these, though he may not be going about looking for them. 
If to this there be added a little love, the soul is comforted, the 
heart melts and tears begin to flow: sometimes we seem to 
produce these tears by force; at other times the Lord seems to be 
drawing them from us and we cannot resist Him. For the trifling 
pains we have taken His Majesty appears to be requiting us 
with the great gift of the conifort which comes to a soul from 
seeing that it is weeping for so great a Lord; and I do not wonder 
at this, for it has ample reason to be comforted. For here it finds 
encouragement, and here it finds joy. 

The comparison which now suggests itself to me is, I think, 
a good one. These joys which come through prayer are some- 
thing like what the joys of Heaven must be. As the souls in 
Heaven see no more than the Lord wills them to see, and as 
this is in proportion to their merits, and they realize how small 
their merits are, each of them is content with the place given to 
him, and yet there is the very greatest difference in Heaven 
between one kind of fruition and another a difference much 
more marked than that between different kinds of spiritual joy 
on earth, though this is tremendous. When a soul is in its early 
stages of growth and God grants it this favour, it really thinks 
there is nothing more left for it to desire and counts itself well 



X] LIFE 59 

recompensed for all the service it has done Him. And it has 
ample reason for thinking so: a single one of these tears, which, 
as I say, we can cause to flow almost by ourselves (though 
nothing whatever can be done without God), cannot, I think, 
be purchased with all the labours in the world, so great is the 
gain which it brings us. And what greater gain is there than to 
have some evidence that we are pleasing God? Let anyone, 
then, who has arrived thus far give great praise to God and 
recognize how much he is in His debt. For it now seems that 
He wants him to be a member of His household and has chosen 
him for His kingdom, if he does not turn back. 

Let him not trouble about certain kinds of humility a of which 
I propose to treat. We may think it humility not to realize that 
the Lord is bestowing gifts upon us. Let us understand very, 
very clearly, how this matter stands. God gives us these gifts 
for no merit of ours. Let us be grateful to His Majesty for them, 
for, unless we recognize that we are receiving them, we shall 
not be aroused to love Him. And it is a most certain thing 
that, if we remember all the time that we are poor, the richer 
we find ourselves, the greater will be the profit that comes to 
us and the more genuine our humility. Another mistake is for 
the soul to be afraid, thinking itself incapable of receiving great 
blessings, with the result that, when the Lord begins to grant 
them, it grows fearful, thinking that it is sinning through vain- 
glory. Let us believe that, when the devil begins to tempt us 
about this, He Who gives us the blessings will also give us grace 
to realize that it is a temptation, and fortitude to resist it: I 
know God will do this if we walk before Him in simplicity, 
endeavouring to please Him alone and not men. 

It is a very evident truth that we love a person most when 
we have a vivid remembrance of the kind actions he has done 
us. If, then, it is lawful, and indeed meritorious, for us to remem- 
ber that it is from God that we have our being, and that He 
created us from nothing, and that He preserves us, and also to 
remember all the other benefits of His death and of the trials 
which He had suffered for all of us now living long before any 
of us was created, why should it not be lawful for me to under- 
stand, realize and consider again and again that, though, once 
I was wont to speak of vanities, the Lord has now granted me 
the desire to speak only of Himself. Here is a jewel which, when 
we remember that it is given us, and that indeed we already 
possess it, invites and constrains us to love, and all this is the 
blessing that comes from prayer founded on humility. What, 
then, will it be when we find ourselves in possession of other 
and more precious jewels, which some servants of God have 



6o LIFE CHAP. 

already received, such as contempt for the world and even for 
themselves? It is clear that such persons must think of them- 
selves as still more in God's debt and under still greater obliga- 
tions to serve Him. We must realize that nothing of all this comes 
from ourselves and acknowledge the bounteousness of the Lord, 
Who on a soul as poor and wretched and undeserving as mine 
for whom the first of these jewels would have been enough, 
and more than enough was pleased to bestow greater riches 
than I could desire. f 

We must seek new strength with which to serve Him, and 
endeavour not to be ungrateful, for that is the condition on 
which the Lord bestows His jewels. Unless we make good use 
of His treasures, and of the high estate to which He brings us, 
He will take these treasures back from us, and we shall be 
poorer than before, and His Majesty will give the jewels to some 
other person who can display them to advantage and to his own 
profit and that of others. For how can a man unaware that he 
is rich make good use of his riches and spend them liberally? 
It is impossible, I think, taking our nature into consideration, 
that anyojie who fails to realize that he is favoured by God should 
have the courage necessary for doing great things. For we are 
so miserable and so much attracted by earthly things that only 
one who realizes that he holds some earnest of the joys of the 
next world will succeed in thoroughly abhorring and completely 
detaching himself from the things of this ; for it is through these 
gifts that the Lord bestows upon us the fortitude of which our 
sins have deprived us. And a man is unlikely to desire the dis- 
approval and abhorrence of all, or the other great virtues possessed 
by the perfect, unless he have some earnest of the love which God 
bears him and also a living faith. For our nature is so dead 
that we pursue what we see before us and so it is these very 
favours which awaken and strengthen faith. But it may well 
be that I am judging others by my wicked self, and that there 
may be some who need no more than the truths of the Faith 
to enable them to perform works of great perfection, whereas I, 
wretched woman, have need of everything. 

Such as these must speak for themselves. I am describing my 
own experiences, as I have been commanded to do; if he to 
whom I send this does not approve of it, he will tear it up, and 
he will know what is wrong with it better than I. But I beseech 
him, for the love of the Lord, that what I have thus far said 
concerning my wicked life and sins be published. I give this 
permission, here and now, both to him and to all my confessors, 
of whom he who will receive this is one. If they like, they can 
publish it now, during my lifetime, so that I may no longer 



X] LIFE 61 

deceive the world and those who think there is some good in 
me. I am speaking the absolute and literal truth when I say 
that, as far as I understand myself at present, this will give me 
great comfort. But I do not make that permission applicable to what 
I shall say from now onwards ; if this should be shown to any- 
one, I do not wish it to be stated to whom it refers, whose ex- 
perience it recounts or who is its author; and for that reason 
I do not mention myself or anyone else by name. I shall write 
it all as well as I can, in order that my authorship may not be 
recognized. This I beg for the love of God. The authority of 
persons so learned and serious as my confessors suffices for the 
approval of any good thing that I may say, if the Lord gives 
me grace to say it, in which case it will not be mine but His; 
for I have no learning, nor have I led a good life, nor do I get 
my information from a learned man or from any other person 
whatsoever. Only those who have commanded me to write 
this 1 know that I am doing so, and at the moment they are not 
here. I am almost stealing the time for writing, and that with 
great difficulty, for it hinders me from spinning and I am living 
in a poor house and have numerous things to do. If the Lord 
had given me more ability, and a better memory, I might have 
profited by what I have heard or read, but I have little ability 
or memory of my own. If, then, I say any good thing, it will 
be because the Lord has been pleased, for some good purpose, 
that I should say it, while whatever is bad is my own work and 
Your Reverence will delete it. In neither case is there any 
advantage in giving my name. During my lifetime, of course, 
nothing good that I may have done ought to be talked about; 
and after my death there will be no point in mentioning me, 
for to do so would bring discredit on this good, to which no one 
would give credence if it were to be related of one so base and 
wicked as I. 

And as I think that Your Reverence, and others who are to 
see this, will do what, for love of the Lord, I am asking you, 
I am writing quite freely. In any other case, I should have 
great scruples about writing at all, except to confess my sins, 
about doing which I have none. For the rest, the very thought 
that I am a woman is enough to make my wings droop how 
much more, then, the thought that I am such a wicked one! 
So Your Reverence must take the responsibility for everything 
beyond the simple story of my life (since you have importuned 
me so earnestly to write some account of the favours which God 

1 These persons, according to a manuscript note by P. Gracian to be found in a copy 
of the first edition of St. Teresa's works, were " Master Fray Domingo Bdnea and Fray 
Gardade Toledo". 



62 LIFE [CHAP. 

grants me in prayer), if it be in accordance with the truths of 
our holy Catholic Faith; and if it be not. Your Reverence must 
burn it at once I am quite willing for you to do that. I will 
describe my experiences, so that, if what I write is in accordance 
with these truths, it may be of some use to Your Reverence; 
if it be not, my soul will be disillusioned, and, if I am not gaining 
anything myself, as I trust I am, there will at least be no gain 
for the devil. The Lord well knows that, as I shall say later, 
I have always tried to seek out those who will enlighten me. 
Howfever clearly I may wish to describe these matters which 
concern prayer, they will be very obscure to anyone who has 
no experience of it. I shall describe certain hindrances, which, 
as I understand it, prevent people from making progress on 
this road, and also certain other sources of danger about which 
the Lord has taught me by experience. More recently I have 
discussed these things with men of great learning and persons 
who have led spiritual lives for many years ; and they have seen 
that in the twenty-seven years during which I have been 
practising prayer, His Majesty has given me experiences, ill as 
I have walked and often as I have stumbled on this road, for 
which others need thirty-seven, or even forty-seven, in spite of 
having made steady progress and practised penitence and 
attained virtue. May His Majesty be blessed for everything, 
and may He, for His name's sake, make use of me. For my 
Lord well knows that I have no other desire than this, that He 
may be praised and magnified a little when it is seen that on so 
foul and malodorous a dunghill He has planted a garden of sweet 
flowers. May His Majesty grant that I may not root them up 
through my faults and become what I was before. This I beseech 
Your Reverence, for love of the Lord, to beg Him for me, for 
you know what I am more clearly than you have permitted me 
to say here. 



CHAPTER XI 

Gives the reason why we do not learn to love God perfectly in a short 
time. Begins, by means of a comparison, to describe four degrees 
of prayer, Concerning the first of which something is here said. 
This is most profitable for beginners and for those who are receiving 
no consolations in prayer. 

I shall now speak of those who are beginning to be the servants 
of love for this, I think, is what we become when we resolve 
to follow in this way of prayer Him Who so greatly loved us. 



XI] LIFE 63 

So great a dignity is this that thinking of it alone brings me a 
strange comfort, for servile fear vanishes at once if while we 
are at this first stage we act as we should. O Lord of my soul 
and my Good! Why, when a soul has resolved to love Thee 
and by forsaking everything does all in its power towards that 
end, so that it may the better employ itself in the love of God, 
hast Thou been pleased that it should not at once have the 
joy of ascending to the possession of this perfect love? But I 
am wrong: I should have made my complaint by asking why 
we ourselves have no desire so to ascend, for it is we alone who 
are at fault in not at once enjoying so great a dignity. If we 
attain to the perfect possession of this true love of God, it brings 
all blessings with it. But so niggardly and so slow are we in 
giving ourselves wholly to God that we do not prepare ourselves 
as we should to receive that precious thing which it is His 
Majesty's will that we should enjoy only at a great price. 

I am quite clear that there is nothing on earth with which 
so great a blessing can be purchased; but if we did what we 
could to obtain it, if we cherished no attachment to earthly 
things, and if all our cares 'and all our intercourse were centred 
in Heaven, I believe there is no doubt that this blessing would 
be given us very speedily, provided we prepared ourselves 
for it thoroughly and quickly, as did some of the saints. 
But we think we are giving God everything, whereas what we 
are really offering Him is the revenue or the fruits of our land 
while .keeping the stock and the right of ownership of it in our 
own hands. We have made a resolve to be poor, and that is a 
resolution of great merit; but we often begin to plan and strive 
again so that we may have no lack, not only of necessaries, but 
even of superfluities; we try to make friends who will give 
us these, lest we should lack anything; and we take greater 
pains, and perhaps even run greater risks, than we did before, 
when we had possessions of our own. Presumably, again, when 
we became nuns, or previously, when we began to lead spiritual 
lives and to follow after perfection, we abandoned all thought 
of our own importance; 1 and yet hardly is our self-importance 
wounded 2 than we quite forget that we have surrendered it to 
God and we try to seize it again, and wrest it, as they say, out 
of His very hands, although we had apparently made Him Lord 
of our will. And the same thing happens with everything 
else* 

1 \Horvra. Gf. p. I4 a n. 2 above. This is an example of the use of the word to denote 
something reprehensible in nuns: elsewhere she adjures her sisters to think (in another 
sense) of their own honra, or reputation.] 

*[Ltt.: "hardly have they touched us in a point of honour." Cf. the use of 
"punto de honra" or "pundonor" in Spanish drama*] 



64 LIFE [CHAP. 

A nice way of seeking the love of God is this ! We expect 
great handfuls of it, as one might say, and yet we want to reserve 
our affections for ourselves! We make no effort to carry our 
desires into effect or to raise them far abpve the earth. It is 
hardly suitable that people who act in this way should have 
many spiritual consolations; the two things seem to me incom- 
patible. So, being unable to make a full surrender of ourselves, 
we are never given a full supply of this treasure. May His Majesty 
be pleased to give it to us little by little, even though the receiving 
of it may cost us all the trials in the world. 

The Lord shows exceeding great mercy to him whom He 
gives grace and courage to resolve to strive after this blessing 
with all his might. For God denies Himself to no one who 
perseveres but gradually increases the courage of such a one till 
he achieves victory. I say "courage" because of the numerous 
obstacles which the devil at first sets in his path to hinder him 
from ever setting out upon it, for the devil knows what harm 
will come to him thereby and that he will lose nob only that one 
soul but many more. If by the help of God the beginner strives 
to reach the summit of perfection, I do not believe he will ever 
go to Heaven alone but will always take many others with 
him: God treats him like a good captain, and gives him soldiers 
to go in his company. So many are the dangers and difficulties 
which the devil sets before him that if he is not to turn back 
he needs not merely a little courage but a very great deal, and 
much help from God. 

To say something, then, of the early experiences of those who 
are determined to pursue this blessing and to succeed in this 
enterprise (I shall continue later with what I began to say about 
mystical theology, as I believe it is called) : it is in these early 
stages that their labour is hardest, for it is they themselves who 
labour and the Lord Who gives the increase. In the other degrees 
of prayer the chief thing is fruition, although, whether at the 
beginning, in the middle or at the end of the road, all have their 
crosses, different as these may be. For those who follow Christ 
must take the way which He took, unless they want to be lost. 
Blessed are their labours, which even here, in this life, have 
such abundant recompense. I shall have to employ some kind 
of comparison, though, being a woman and writing simply 
what I am commanded, I should like to avoid doing so ; but this 
spiritual language is so hard to use for such as, like myself, have 
no learning, that I shall have to seek some such means of con- 
veying my ideas. It may be that my comparison will seldom do 
this successfully and Your Reverence will be amused to see how 
stupid I am. But it comes to my mind now that I have read 



XI] LIFE 65 

or heard of this comparison: as I have a bad memory, I do not 
know where it occurred or what it illustrated, but it satisfies 
me at the moment as an illustration of my own. 

The beginner must think of himself as of one setting out to 
make a garden in which the Lord is to take His delight, yet in 
soil most unfruitful and full of weeds. His Majesty uproots the 
weeds and will set good plants in their stead. Let us suppose 
that this is already done that a soul has resolved to practise 
prayer and has already begun to do so. We have now, by God's 
help, like good gardeners, to make these plants grow, and to 
water them carefully, so that they may not perish, but may 
produce flowers which shall send forth great fragrance to give 
refreshment to this Lord of ours, so that He may often come 
into the garden to take His pleasure and have His delight among 
these virtues. 

Let us now consider how this garden can be watered, so that 
we may know what we have to do, what labour it will cost us, 
if the gain will outweigh the labour and for how long this labour 
must be borne. It seems to me that the garden can be watered 
in four ways: by taking the water from a well, which costs us 
great labour; or by a water-wheel and buckets, when the water 
is drawn by a windlass (I have sometimes drawn it in this way: 
it is less laborious than the other and gives more water); or 
by a stream or a brook, which waters the ground much better, 
for it saturates it more thoroughly and there is less need to 
water it often, so that the gardener's labour is much less; or 
by heavy rain, when the Lord waters it with no labour of ours, 
a way incomparably better than any of those which have been 
described. 

And now I come to my point, which is the application of 
these four methods of watering by which the garden is to be 
kept fertile, for if it has no water it will be ruined. It has seemed 
possible to me in this way to explain something about the four 
degrees of prayer to which the Lord, of His goodness, has occasion- 
ally brought my soul. May He also of His goodness grant me to 
speak in such a 4 way as to be of some profit to one of the persons 
who commanded me to write this book, 1 whom in four months 
the Lord has brought to a point far beyond that which I have 
reached in seventeen years. He prepared himself better than I, 
and thus his garden, without labour on his part, is watered by 
all these four means, though he is still receiving the last watering 
only -drop by drop; such progress is his garden making that 
soon, by the Lord's help, it will be submerged. It will be a 

1 "P. Pedra Ibanez", observes P. Gracian, in another manuscript note to the copy 
of the first edition of St. Teresa's works referred to above (pp. 7-8). 



66 LIFE [CHAP. 

pleasure to me for him to laugh at my explanation if he thinks 
it foolish. 

Beginners in prayer, we may say, are those who draw up 
the water out of the well : this, as I have said, is a very laborious 
proceeding, for it will fatigue them to keep their senses recollected, 
which is a great labour because they have been accustomed to 
a life of distraction. Beginners must accustom themselves to 
pay no heed to what they see or hear, and they must practise 
doing this during hours of prayer; they must be alone and in 
their solitude think over their past life all of us, indeed, whether 
beginners or proficients, must do this frequently. There are 
differences, however, in the degree to which it must be done, 
as I shall show later. At first it causes distress, for beginners 
are not always sure that they have repented of their sins (though 
clearly they have, since they have so sincerely resolved to serve 
God). Then they have to endeavour to meditate upon the life 
of Christ and this fatigues their minds. Thus far we can make 
progress by ourselves of course with the help of God, for without 
that, as is well known, we cannot think a single good thought. 
This is what is meant by beginning to draw up water from the 
well and God grant there may be water in it! But that, at 
least, does not depend on us: our task is to draw it up and to 
do what we can to water the flowers. And God is so good that 
when, for reasons known to His Majesty, perhaps to our great 
advantage, He is pleased that the well should be dry, we, like 
good gardeners, do all that in us lies, and He keeps the flowers 
alive without water and makes the virtues grow. By water here 
I mean tears or, if there be none of these, tenderness and an 
interior feeling of devotion. 

What, then, will he do here who finds that for many days 
he experiences nothing but aridity, dislike, distaste and so little 
desire to go and draw water that he would give it up entirely if 
he did not remember that he is pleasing and serving the Lord 
of the garden; if he were not anxious that all his service should 
not be lost, to say nothing of the gain which he hopes for from 
the great labour of lowering the bucket so often into the well and 
drawing it up without water? It will often happen that, even for 
that purpose, he is unable to move his arms unable, that is, to 
think a single good thought, for working with the understanding is 
of course the same as drawing water out of the well. What, then, 
as I say, will the gardener do here? He will be glad and take 
heart and consider it the greatest of favours to work in the garden 
of so x great an Emperor; and, as he knows that he is pleasing Him 
by so working (and his purpose must be to please, not himself, 
but Him), let him render Him great praise for having placed such 



XI] LIFE 67 

confidence in him, when He has seen that, without receiving any 
recompense, he is taking such great care of that which He had 
entrusted to him; let him help Him to bear the Cross and consider 
how He lived with it all His life long; let him not wish to have his 
kingdom on earth or ever cease from prayer; and so let him 
resolve, even if this aridity should persist his whole life long, 
never to let Christ fall beneath the Cross. The time will come 
when he shall receive his whole reward at once. Let him have 
no fear that his labour will be lost. He is serving a good Master, 
Whose eyes are upon him. Let him pay no heed to evil thoughts, 
remembering how the devil put such thoughts into the mind of 
Saint Jerome in the desert. 1 

These trials bring their own reward. I endured them for many 
years ; and, when I was able to draw but one drop of water from 
this blessed well, I used to think that God was granting me a 
favour. I know how grievous such trials are and I think they need 
more courage than do many others in the world. But it has 
become clear to me that, even in this life, God does not fail to 
recompense them highly; for it is quite certain that a single one 
of those hours in which the Lord has granted me to taste of 
Himself has seemed to me later a recompense for all the afflic- 
tions which I endured over a long period while keeping up the 
practice of prayer. I believe myself that often in the early 
stages, and again later, it is the Lord's will to give us these 
tortures, and many other temptations which present themselves, 
in order to test His lovers and discover if they can drink of the 
chalice and help Him to bear the Cross before He trusts them 
with His great treasures. I believe it is for our good that His 
Majesty is pleased to lead us in this way so that we may have a 
clear understanding of our worthlessness; for the favours which 
come later are of such great dignity that before He grants us 
them He wishes us to know by experience how miserable we 
are, lest what happened to Lucifer happen to us also. 

What is there that Thou doest, my Lord, which is not for the 
greater good of the soul that Thou knowest to be already Thine 
and that places itself in Thy power, to follow Thee whithersoever 
Thou gocst, even to the death of the Cross, and is determined 
to help Thee bear that Cross and not to leave Thee alone with 
it? If anyone finds himself thus determined, there is nothing 
for him to fear. No, spiritual people, there is no reason to be 
distressed. Once you have reached so high a state as this, in 
which you desire to be alone and to commune with God, and 

1 The reference is to the twenty-second epistle of St. Jerome "Ad Eustochium'% 
which describes how vividly there would come to him in the desert pictures of the 
pomps and vanities of pagan Rome. 



68 LIFE [CHAP. 

abandon the pastimes of the world, the chief part of your work 
is done. Praise His Majesty for this and trust in His goodness, 
which never yet failed His friends. Close the eyes of your thought 
and do not wonder: "Why is He giving devotion to that person 
of so few days' experience, and none to me after so many years? " 
Let us believe that it is all for our greater good; let His Majesty 
guide us whithersoever He wills; we are not our own, but His. 
It is an exceeding great favour that He shows us when it is His 
pleasure that we should wish to dig in His garden, and we are 
then near the Lord of the garden. Who is certainly with us. 
If it be His will that these plants and flowers should grow, some 
by means of the water drawn from this well and others without 
it, what matter is that to me? Do Thou, O Lord, what Thou 
wilt; let me not offend Thee and let not my virtues perish, if, 
of Thy goodness alone, Thou hast given me any. I desire to 
suffer, Lord, because Thou didst suifer. Let Thy will be in 
every way fulfilled in me, and may it never please Thy Majesty 
that a gift so precious as Thy love be given to people who serve 
Thee solely to obtain consolations. 

It must be carefully noted and I say this because I know it 
by experience that the soul which begins to walk resolutely 
in this way of mental prayer and can persuade itself to set little 
store by consolations and tenderness in devotion, and neither to 
be elated when the Lord gives them nor disconsolate when He 
withholds them, has already travelled a great part of its journey. 
However often it may stumble, it need not fear a relapse, for 
its building has been begun on a firm foundation. 1 Yes, love 
for God does not consist in shedding tears, in enjoying those 
consolations and that tenderness which for the most part we 
desire and in which we find comfort, but in serving Him with 
righteousness, fortitude of soul and humility. The other seems 
to me to be receiving rather than giving anything. 

As for poor women like myself, who are weak and lack fortitude, 
I think it fitting that we should be led by means of favours : this 
is the way in which God is leading me now, so that I may be able 
to suffer certain trials which it has pleased His Majesty to give 
me. But when I hear servants of God, men of weight, learning 
and intelligence, making such a fuss because God is not giving 
them devotion, it revolts me to listen to them. I do not mean 
that, when God gives them such a thing, they ought not to accept 
it and set a great deal of store by it, because in that case His 
Majesty must know that it is good for them. But I do mean that 
if they do not receive it they should not be distressed : they should 
realize that, as His Majesty does not give it them, it is unnecessary; 

1 [The metaphors here follow the Spanish exactly.] 



XI] LIFE 69 

they should be masters of themselves and go on their way. Let 
them believe that they are making a mistake about this : I have 
proved it and seen that it is so. Let them believe that it is an 
imperfection in them if, instead of going on their way with 
freedom of spirit, they hang back through weakness and lack of 
enterprise. 

I am not saying this so much for beginners (though I lay some 
stress upon it, even for these, because it is of great importance 
that they should start with this freedom and determination): 
I mean it rather for others. There must be many who have begun 
some time back and never manage to finish their course, and I 
believe it is largely because they do not embrace the Cross from 
the beginning that they are distressed and think that they are 
making no progress. When the understanding ceases to work, 
they cannot bear it, though perhaps even then the will is increasing 
in power, and putting on new strength, 1 without their knowing 
it. We must realize that the Lord pays no heed to these things : 
to us they may look like faults, but they are not so. His Majesty 
knows our wretchedness and the weakness of our nature better 
than we ourselves and He knows that all the time these souls are 
longing to think of Him and to love Him. It is this determination 
that He desires in us. The other afflictions which we bring 
upon ourselves serve only to disturb our souls, and the result of 
them is that, if we find ourselves unable to get profit out of a 
single hour, we are impeded from doing so for four. I have a 
great deal of experience of this and I know that what I say is true, 
for I have observed it carefully and have discussed it afterwards 
with spiritual persons. The thing frequently arises from physical 
indisposition, for we are such miserable creatures that this poor 
imprisoned soul shares in the miseries of the body, and variations 
of season and changes in the humours often prevent it from 
accomplishing its desires and make it suffer in all kinds of ways 
against its will. The more we try to force it at times like these, 
the worse it gets and the longer the trouble lasts- But let dis- 
cretion be observed so that it may be ascertained if this is the true 
reason : the poor soul must not be stifled. Persons in this condition 
must realize that they are ill and make some alteration in their 
hours of prayer; very often it will be advisable to continue this 
change for some days. 

They must endure this exile as well as they can, for a soul which 
loves God has often the exceeding ill fortune to realize that, 
living as it is in this state of misery, it cannot do what it desires 
because of its evil guest, the body. I s?dd we must observe dis- 

1 [Lit. : "is growing fat and taking strength." Fatness is often spoken of in Spain as 
synonymous with robustness and made a subject of congratulation.] 



70 LIFE [CHAP. 

cretion, because sometimes the same effects will be produced by 
the devil; and so it is well that prayer should not always be given 
up when the mind is greatly distracted and disturbed, nor the 
soul tormented by being made to do what is not in its power. 
There are other things which can be done exterior acts, such 
as reading or works of charity though sometimes the soul will 
be unable to do even these. At such times the soul must render 
the body a service for the love of God, so that on many other 
occasions the body may render services to the soul. Engage in 
some spiritual recreation, such as conversation (so long as it is 
really spiritual), or a country walk, according as your confessor 
advises. In all these things it is important to have had experience, 
for from this we learn what is fitting for us ; but let God be served 
in all things. Sweet is His yoke, and it is essential that we should 
not drag the soul along with us, so to say, but lead it gently, so 
that it may make the greater progress. 

I repeat my advice, then (and it matters not how often I say 
this, for it is of great importance), that one must never be depressed 
or afflicted because of aridities or unrest or distraction of the mind. 
If a person would gain spiritual freedom and not be continually 
troubled, let him begin by not being afraid of the Cross and he 
will find that the Lord will help him to bear it; he will then advance 
happily and find profit in everything. It is now clear that, if no 
water is coming from the well, we ourselves can put nont into it. 
But of course we must not be careless : water must always be 
drawn when there is any there, for at such a time God's will is 
that we should use it so that He may multiply our virtues. 



CHAPTER XII 

Continues to describe this first state. Tells how far, with the help of God, 
we can advance by ourselves and describes the harm that ensues when 
the spirit attempts to aspire to unusual and supernatural experiences 
before they are bestowed upon it by the Lord. 

Although in the last chapter I digressed a good deal about 
other things, because they seemed to me very necessary, what I 
was trying to make clear was how much we can attain by our 
own power and how in this first stage of devotion we can do a 
certain amount for ourselves. For, if we examine and meditate 
upon the Lord's sufferings for us, we are moved to compassion, 
and this grief and the tears which proceed from it are very sweet. 
And then if we think about the glory we hope for, and the love 



XII] LIFE ^l 

which the Lord bore us, and His resurrection, we are moved to a 
rejoicing which is neither wholly spiritual nor wholly sensual, 
but is a virtuous joy; the grief also is of great merit. Of this nature 
are all the things which cause a devotion acquired in part by the 
understanding, though this can be neither merited nor attained 
unless it be given by God, It is best for a soul which has been 
raised no higher than this not to try to rise by its own efforts. Let 
this be noted carefully, for if the soul does try so to rise it will 
make no progress but only go backward. 

In this state it can make many acts of resolution to do great 
things for God and it can awaken its own love. It can make 
other acts which will help the virtues to grow, as is explained 
in a book called The Art of serving God,* which is very good and 
suitable for persons in this state, because in it the understanding is 
active. The soul can picture itself in the presence of Christ, 
and accustom itself to become enkindled with great love for His 
sacred Humanity and to have Him ever with it and speak with 
Him, ask Him for the things it has need of, make complaints 
to Him of its trials, rejoice with Him in its joys and yet never 
allow its joys to make it forgetful of Him. It has no need to think 
out set prayers but can use just such words as suit its desires and 
needs. This is an excellent way of making progress, and of 
making it very quickly; and if anyone strives always to have this 
precious companionship, makes good use of it and realty learns to 
love this Lord to Whom we owe so much, such a one, I think, has 
achieved a definite gain. 

For this reason, as I have said, we must not be troubled if we 
have no conscious devotion, but thank the Lord Who allows us to 
harbour a desire to please Him, although our deeds may be of 
little worth. This method of bringing Christ into our lives is helpful 
at all stages ; it is a most certain means of making progress in the 
earliest stage, of quickly reaching the second degree of prayer, 
and, in the final stages, of keeping ourselves safe from the dangers 
into which the devil may lead us. 

This, then, is what we can do. If anyone tries to pass beyond 
this stage and lift up his spirit so as to experience consolations 
which are not being given to him, I think he is losing both in 
the one respect and in the other. For these consolations are 
supernatural and, when the understanding ceases to act, the soul 
remains barren and suffers great aridity. And, as the foundation 
of the entire edifice is humility, the nearer we come to God, the 
greater must be the progress which we make in this virtue: 
otherwise, we lose everything. It seems to be- a kind of pride that 

1 By the Franciscan P. Alonso de Madrid: first published at Seville in 1531 anci 
reprinted many times in the sixteenth century. 



72 LIFE [CHAP, 

makes us wish to rise higher, for God is already doing more for us 
than we deserve by bringing us near to Him. It must not be 
supposed that I am referring here to the lifting up of the mind to 
a consideration of the high things of Heaven or of God, and of the 
wonders which are in Heaven, and of God's great wisdom. I 
never did this myself, for, as I have said, I had no ability for it, 
and I knew myself to be so wicked that even when it came to 
thinking of earthly things God granted me grace to understand 
this truth, that it was no small presumption in me to do so how 
much more as to heavenly things! Other persons will profit in 
this way, especially if they are learned, for learning, I think, is a 
priceless help in this exercise, if humility goes with it. Only a 
few days ago I observed that this was so in certain learned men, 
who began but a short while since and have made very great 
, progress ; and this gives me great longings that many more learned 
men should become spiritual, as I shall say later. 

When I say that people should not try to rise unless they are 
raised by God I am using the language of spirituality; anyone 
who has had any experience will understand me and if what I 
have already said cannot be understood I do not know how to 
explain it. In the mystical theology which I began to describe, 
the understanding loses its power of working, because God sus- 
pends it, as I shall explain further by and by if God grants me 
His help for that purpose. What I say we must not do is to pre- 
sume or think that we can suspend it ourselves ; nor must we allow 
it to cease working: if we do, we shall remain stupid and cold 
and shall achieve nothing whatsoever. When the Lord suspends 
the understanding and makes it cease from its activity, He gives it 
something which both amazes it and keeps it busy, so that, 
without reasoning in any way, it can understand more in a short 
space of time than we, with all our human efforts, in many years. 
To keep the faculties of the soul busy and to think that, at the 
same time, you can keep them quiet, is foolishness. And I say 
once more that, although the fact is not generally realized, there 
is no great humility in this : it may not be sinful, but it certainly 
causes distress, for it is lost labour, and the soul feels slightly 
frustrated, like a man who is just about to take a leap and then is 
pulled back, so that he seems to have put forth his strength and 
yet finds that he has not accomplished what he had expected to. 
Anyone who will consider the matter will detect, in the slightness 
of the gain achieved by the soul, this very slight lack of humility of 
which I have spoken. For that virtue has this excellent trait 
that when an action is accompanied by it the soul is never left 
with any feeling of irritation. I think I have made this clear, 
though it may possibly be so only to me. May the Lord open the 



XII] LIFE 73 

eyes of those who read this by granting them experience of it, and, 
however slight that experience may be, they will at once under- 
stand it. 

I spent a good many years doing a great deal of reading and 
understanding nothing of what I read; for a long time, though 
God was teaching me, I could not utter a word to explain His 
teaching to others, and this was no light trial to me. When His 
Majesty so wills He can teach everything in a moment, in a way 
that amazes me. I can truthfully say this : though I used to talk 
with many spiritual persons, who would try to explain what the 
Lord was teaching me so that I might be able to speak about it, 
I was so stupid that I could not get the slightest profit from their 
instruction. Possibly, as His Majesty has always been my teacher 
may He be blessed for everything, for I am thoroughly ashamed 
at being able to say that this is the truth , it may have been His 
will that I should be indebted to no one else for my knowledge. 
In any case, without my wishing it or asking for it (for I have 
never been curious about such things, as it would have been a 
virtue in me to be, but only about vanities), God suddenly gave 
me a completely clear understanding of the whole thing, so that 
I was able to speak about it in such a way that people were 
astounded. And I myself was more astounded even than my own 
confessors, for I was more conscious than they of my own stupidity. 
This happened only a short time ago. So I do not now attempt to 
learn what the Lord has not taught me, unless it be something 
affecting my conscience. 

Once more I repeat my advice that it is very important that we 
should not try to lift up our spirits unless they are lifted up by the 
Lord : in the latter case we shall become aware of the fact in- 
stantly. It is specially harmful for women to make such attempts, 
because the devil can foster illusions in them, although I am 
convinced that the Lord never allows anyone to be harmed who 
strives to approach Him with humility: rather will he derive more 
profit and gain from the very experience through which the devil 
thought to send him to perdition. As this road is that most 
generally taken by beginners, and the counsels that I have given 
are of great importance, I have said a good deal about it. I 
confess that others have written about it much better elsewhere, 
and I have felt great confusion and shame in writing of it, though 
less than I should. May the Lord be blessed for it all, Whose will 
and pleasure it is that one such as I should speak of things that are 
His things of such a nature as these and so sublime! 



74 LIFE [CHAP. 



CHAPTER XIII 

Continues to describe this first state and gives counsels for dealing with 
certain temptations which the devil is sometimes wont to prepare. 
This chapter is very profitable. 

It has seemed to me appropriate to speak of certain tempta- 
tions which, as I have observed, often attack beginners I have 
had some of them myself and to give counsels about matters 
which appear to me necessary. In the early stages, then, one 
should strive to feel happy and free. There are some people 
who think that devotion will slip away from them if they relax 
a little. It is well to have misgivings about oneself and not to 
allow self-confidence to lead one into occasions which habitually 
involve offences against God. This is most necessary until one 
becomes quite perfect in virtue; and there are not many who are 
so perfect as to be able to relax when occasions present themselves 
which tempt their own peculiar disposition. It is well that, 
all our lives long, we should recognize the worthlessness of our 
nature, if only for the sake of humility. Yet there are many 
circumstances in which, as I have said, it is permissible for us 
to take some recreation, in order that we may be the stronger 
when we return to prayer. In everything we need discretion. 

We must have great confidence, for it is most important 
that we should not cramp our good desires, but should believe 
that, with God's help, if we make continual efforts to do so, we 
shall attain, though perhaps not at once, to that which many 
saints have reached through His favour. If they had never 
resolved to desire to attain this and to carry their desires con- 
tinually into effect, they would never have risen to as high a 
state as they did. His Majesty desires and loves courageous 
souls if they have no confidence in themselves but walk in 
humility; and I have never seen any such person hanging back 
on this road, nor any soul that, under the guise of humility, 
acted like a coward, go as far in many years as the courageous 
soul can in few. I am astounded at how much can be done on 
this road if one has the courage to attempt great things; the soul 
may not have the strength to achieve these things at once but 
if it takes a flight it can make good progress, though, like a little 
unfledged bird, it is apt to grow tired and stop. 

At one time I used often to bear in mind the words of Saint 
Paul, that everything is possible in God: 1 I realized quite well 

1 [Presumably a reference to Philippians v, 13, unless the author is attributing Our 
Lord's words in St. Matthew xix, 26 to St Paul.] 



XIII] LIFE 75 

that in myself I could do nothing. This was a great help to me, 
as were also the words of Saint Augustine: "Give me, Lord, what 
Thou commandest me and command what Thou wilt." 1 I used 
often to reflect that Saint Peter had lost nothing by throwing 
himself into the sea, though after he had done so he was afraid. 2 
These first resolutions are of great importance, although during 
this first stage we have to go slowly and to be guided by the 
discretion and opinion of our director; but we must see to it 
that he is not the kind of person to teach us to be like toads, 
satisfied if our souls show themselves fit only to catch lizards. 
We must always keep humility before us, so that we may realize 
that this strength cannot proceed from any strength of our own. 

But it is necessary that we should realize what kind of humility 
this must be, for I believe the devil does a great deal of harm to 
those who practise prayer by encouraging misunderstandings 
about humility in them so as to prevent them from making much 
progress. He persuades us that it is pride which makes us have 
ambitious desires and want to imitate the saints and wish to be 
martyrs. Then he tells us, or induces us to believe, that we who 
are sinners may admire the deeds of the saints but must not 
copy them. I myself would agree with him to the extent that we 
must consider which of their deeds we are to admire and which 
to imitate. Fpr it would not be a good thing for a person who was 
weak and ill to indulge in a great deal of fasting and in severe 
penances, or to go to a desert where he could not sleep or get 
anything to eat, or to attempt other things of that kind. But we 
must reflect that, with the help of God, we can strive to have a 
great contempt for the world, no regard for honour, and no 
attachment to possessions. For so ungenerous are we that we 
imagine the earth will go from under our feet if we try to forget 
the body a little and to cultivate the spirit. Or, again, we think 
that to have an abundance of all we need is a help to recollection 
because anxieties disturb prayer, 

It distresses me to reflect that we have so little confidence in 
God, and so much love for ourselves, that anxieties like this 
upset us. When we have made so little spiritual progress, the 
smallest things will trouble us as much as important and weighty 
things will trouble others, and yet in our own minds we presume 
to think ourselves spiritual. Now to me it seems that this kind of 
life is an attempt to reconcile body and soul, so that we may lose 
neither comfort in this world nor fruition of God iix the world 
to come. We shall get along all right if we walk in righteousness 
and hold fast to virtue, but it will mean advancing at the pace 

1 "Da quod jubes et jube quod vis" (Confessions, Bk. X, Chap, XXIX). 

2 St. Matthew xiv, 29. 



76 LIFE [CHAP. 

of a hen and will never lead us to spiritual freedom. This is a 
procedure which seems to me quite good for people who are in 
the married state and have to live in accordance with their voca- 
tion; but in any other state I should not at all like to see such a 
method of progress nor will anyone persuade me to think it a 
good one. For I have tried it; and I should have been practising 
it still if the Lord in His goodness had not shown me another 
and a shorter road. 

With regard to this matter of desires, my own were always 
ambitious, but I strove, as I have said, to practise prayer and yet 
to live according to my own pleasure. If there had been anyone 
to encourage me to soar higher, I think he might have brought 
me to a state in which these desires were carried into effect; 
but, for our sins, those who are not over-cautious in this respect 
are very few and far between, and that, I think, is sufficient 
reason why those who begin do not more quickly attain to great 
perfection. For the Lord never fails us and the fault is not His : 
it is we who are faulty and miserable. 

We may also imitate the saints by striving after solitude and 
silence and many other virtues; such things will not kill these 
wretched bodies of ours, which- want to have everything organized 
for their benefit in such a way as to disorganize the soul and which 
the devil does his best to incapacitate when he sees that we are 
getting fearful about them. That is quite enough for him: he 
tries at once to persuade us that all these habits of devotion will 
kill us, or ruin our health; he even makes us afraid that if we weep 
we shall go blind. I have experienced this, so I know it and I 
also know that we can desire no better kind of sight or health 
than to lose both in so good a cause. As my own health is so bad, 
I was always impeded by my fears, and my devotion was of no 
value at all until I resolved not to worry any more about my body 
or my health; and now I trouble about them very little. For it 
pleased God to reveal to me this device of the devil; and so, 
whenever the devil suggested that I should ruin my health, 
I would reply: "Even if I die it is of little consequence." "Rest, 
indeed!" I would say. "I need no rest; what I need is crosses." 
And so with other things. I saw clearly that in very many cases, 
although in fact I have very bad health, it was a temptation 
either of the devil or of my own weakness ; and since I have been 
less self-regarding and indulgent my health has been very much 
better. It is of great importance^ when we begin to practise 
prayer, not to let ourselves be frightened by our own thoughts. 
And you may take my word for this, for I have learned it by 
experience; this mere narration of my faults might be of use to 
others if they will take warning by me. 



XIII] LIFE 77 

There is another temptation which is very common namely 
to desire that everyone should be extremely spiritual when one 
is beginning to find what tranquillity, and what profit, spirituality 
brings. It is not wrong to desire this but it may not be right 
to try to bnng it about unless we do so with Such discretion and 
dissimulation that we give no impression of wanting to teach 
others. For if a person is to do any good in this respect he must 
be very strong in the virtues so as not to put temptation in 
others' way. This I found out for myself and that is why I 
realize it. When, as J have said, I tried to get others to practise 
prayer, and when on the one hand they would hear me saying 
so much about the blessedness of prayer, while on the other they 
would observe that I, who practised it, was so poverty-stricken 
in virtue, it would lead them into temptations and various Muds 
of foolishness. And they had good reason on their side; for, as 
they have since told me, they could not see how one of these 
things could be compatible with the other. And so they came to 
believe that there was nothing wrong in what was intrinsically 
evil; for they saw that I sometimes did such things and at that 
time they had rather a good opinion of me. 

This is the devil's doing. He seems to make use of the virtues 
which we have, and which are good, in order to give such authority 
as he can to the evil which he is trying to make us do : however 
trifling the evil may be, it must be of great value to him when 
it is done in a religious community how much more, then, 
must he have gained from the evil which I did, for it was very 
great. So, over a period of many years, only three persons 
derived any profit from what I said to them; 1 whereas, now that 
the Lord has made me stronger in virtue, many persons have 
derived such profit in the course of two or three years, as I shall 
afterwards relate. In addition, there is another great disad- 
vantage in yielding to this temptation: namely, the harm caused 
to our own soul; for the utmost we have to do at first is to take 
care of our soul and to remember that in the entire world there 
is only God and the soul; 2 and this is a thing which it is very 
profitable to remember. 

Another temptation comes from the distress caused by the 

1 According to P. Gracian, these persons were Maria de San Pablo, Ana de los 
Angeles and Dona Maria de Gepeda. The same names are given by P. Grecian's 
sister, M. Maria de San Jose*. (B.Nac., MS. 12,936.) [Lewis, however (p. 98, n. 6), 
aptly remarks that, as shown in Chap. VII (p. 42, above), one of the three must have 
been St. Teresa's father.] 

2 [While there are too many similarities between the writings of St. Teresa and St. 
John of the Cross for more than a very .small proportion of them to be referred to, I 
cannot forbear quoting here the latter*s welljoiown maxim: "live in this world 
as though there were an it but God and thy soul, so* that thy heart may be detained 
by naught that is human*' (St. John of the Cross, III, 256).] 



78 LIFE [CHAP. 

sins and failings which we see in others, for we all have a zeal 
for virtue and so we must learn to understand ourselves and walk 
warily. The devil tells us that this distress arises solely from our 
desire that God should not be offended and from our concern 
for His honour and then we immediately try to set matters right. 
This makes us so excited that it prevents us from praying, and 
the greatest harm of all is that we think this to be a virtue, and 
a sign of perfection and of great zeal for God. I am not referring 
to the distress caused by public offences in a religious congrega- 
tion, if they become habitual, or of wrongs done to the Church, 
such as heresies, through which, as we see, so many souls are lost; 
for distress caused by these is right, and, being right, causes us 
no excitement. Safety, then, for the soul that practises prayer 
will consist in its ceasing to be anxious about anything and any- 
body, and in its watching itself and pleasing God. This is most 
important. If I were to describe the mistakes I have seen people 
make because they trusted in their good intentions ! 

Let us strive, then, always to look at the virtues and the good 
qualities which we find in others, and to keep our own grievous 
sins before our eyes so that we may be blind to their defects. 
This is a course of action which, though we may not become 
perfect in it all at once, will help us to acquire one great virtue 
namely, to consider all others better than ourselves. In this way 
we shall begin to profit, by God's help (which is always necessary, 
and, when it fails, our own efforts are useless), and we must beg 
Him to give us this virtue, which, if we exert our own efforts, 
He will deny to none. This counsel must also be remembered 
by those who use their intellects a great deal and from one 
subject can extract many ideas and conceptions. To those who 
cannot do this and I used to be one there is no need to 
offer any counsel, save that they must have patience until the 
Lord gives them occupation and enlightenment, for of them- 
selves they can do so little that their intellect hinders rather 
than helps them. 

Returning, then, to those who can make use of their reasoning 
powers, I advise them not to spend all their time in doing so; 
their method of prayer is most meritorious, but, enjoying it as 
they do, they fail to realize that they ought to have a kind of 
Sunday that is to say, a period of rest from their labour. To stop 
working, they think, would be a loss of time, whereas my view 
is that this loss is a great gain; let them imagine themselves, as 
I have suggested, in the presence of Christ, and let them remain 
in converse with Him, and delighting in Him, without wearying 
their minds or fatiguing themselves by composing speeches to 
Him, but laying their needs before Him and acknowledging how 



XIII] LIFE 79 

right He is not to allow us to be in His presence. There is a time 
for one thing and a time for another; were there not, the soul 
would grow tired of always eating the same food. These foods are 
very pleasant and wholesome; and, if the palate is accustomed 
to their taste, they provide great sustenance for the life of the 
soul, and bring it many other benefits. 

I will explain myself further, for these matters concerning 
prayer are difficult, and, if no director is available, very hard 
to understand. It is for this reason that, though I should like 
to write more briefly, and though merely to touch upon these 
matters concerning prayer would suffice for the keen intellect 
of him who commanded me to write of them, my own stupidity 
prevents me from describing and explaining in a few words a 
matter which it is so important to expound thoroughly. Having 
gone through so much myself, I am sorry for those who begin 
with books alone, for it is extraordinary what a difference there 
is between understanding a thing and knowing it by experience. 
Returning, then, to what I was saying, we begin to meditate 
upon a scene of the Passion let us say upon the binding of the 
Lord to the Column. The mind sets to work to seek out the 
reasons which are to be found for the great afflictions and distress 
which His Majesty must have suffered when He was alone there. 
It also meditates on the many other lessons which, if it is in- 
dustrious, or well stored with learning, this mystery can teach it. 
'This method should be the beginning, the middle and the end 
of prayer for all of us : it is a most excellent and safe road until 
the Lord leads us to other methods, which are supernatural. 

I say "for all of us," but there will be many souls who derive 
greater benefits from other meditations than from that of the 
Sacred Passion. For, just as there are many mansions in Heaven, 
so there are many roads to them. Some people derive benefit 
from imagining themselves in hell; others, whom it distresses to 
think of hell, from imagining themselves in Heaven. Others 
meditate upon death. Some, who are tender-hearted, get exhausted 
if they keep thinking about the Passion, but they derive great 
comfort and benefit from considering the power and greatness 
of God in the creatures, and the love that He showed us, which 
is pictured in all things. This is an admirable procedure, provided 
one does not fail to meditate often upon the Passion and the 
life of Christ, which are, and have always been, the source of 
everything that is good. 

The beginner needs counsel to help him ascertain what benefits 
him most. To this end a director is very necessary; but he must 
be a man of experience, or he will tnake a great many mistakes 
and lead souls along without understanding them or without 



8o LIFE [CHAP. 

allowing them to learn to understand themselves, for the soul, 
knowing that it is a great merit to be subject to its director, dares 
not do other than what he commands it. I have come across 
souls so constrained and afflicted because of the inexperience of 
their director that I have been really sorry for them. And I 
have found some who had no idea how to act for themselves; 
for directors who cannot understand spirituality afflict their 
penitents both in soul and in body and prevent them from 
making progress. One person who spoke to me about this had 
been kept in bondage by her director for eight years; he would 
not allow her to aim at anything but self-knowledge, yet the Lord 
was already granting her the Prayer of Quiet, so she was suffering 
great trials. 

At the same time, this matter of self-knowledge must never be 
neglected. No soul on this road is such a giant that it does not 
often need to become a child at the breast again. (This must 
never be forgotten: I may repeat it again and again, for it is of 
great importance.) For there is no state of prayer, however 
sublime, in which it is not necessary often to go back to the 
beginning. And self-knowledge with regard to sin is the bread 
which must be eaten with food of every kind, however dainty it 
may be, on this road of prayer: without this bread we could not 
eat our food at all. But bread must be taken in moderate pro- 
portions. When a soul finds itself exhausted and realizes clearly 
that it has no goodness of its own, when it feels ashamed in the 
presence of so great a King and sees how little it is paying of all 
that it owes Him, what need is there for it to waste its time on 
learning to know itself? It will be wiser to go on to other matters 
which the Lord sets before it, and we are not doing right if we 
neglect such things, for His Majesty knows better than we what 
kind of food is good for us. 

It is of great importance, then, that the director should be a 
prudent man of sound understanding, I mean and also an 
experienced one: if he is a learned man as well, that is a very 
great advantage. But if all these three qualities cannot be found 
in the same man, the first two are the more important, for it is 
always possible to find learned men to consult when necessary. 
I mean that learning is of little benefit to beginners, except in 
men of prayer. I do not mean that beginners should have no 
communication with learned men, for I should prefer spirituality 
to be unaccompanied by prayer than not to be founded 
upon the truth. Learning is a great thing, for it teaches those 
of us who have little knowledge, and gives us light, so that, when 
we are faced with the truth of Holy Scripture, we act as we 
should. From foolish devotions may God deliver us! 



XIII] LIFE 81 

I want to explain myself further, for I seem to be getting 
involved in a great many subjects. I have always had this failing 
that I cannot explain myself, as I have said, except at the cost 
of many words. A nun begins to practise prayer: if her director 
is a simpleton and gets the idea into his head, he will give her to 
understand that it is better for her to obey him than her superior, 
and he will do this without any evil intention, thinking he is 
right. Indeed, if he is not a religious, it will probably seem right to 
him. If he is dealing with a married woman, he will tell her it is 
better for her to be engaged in prayer when she has work to do in 
her home, although this may displease her husband: he cannot 
advise her about arranging her time and work so that everything 
is done as true Christianity demands. Not being enlightened 
himself, he cannot enlighten others, even if he tries. And although 
learning may not seem necessary for this, my opinion has always 
been, and always will be, that every Christian should try to 
consult some learned person, if he can, and the more learned 
this person, the better. Those who walk in the way of prayer 
have the greater need of learning; and the more spiritual they 
are, the greater is their need. 

Let us not make the mistake of saying that learned men who 
do not practise prayer are not suitable directors for those who do. 
I have consulted many such; and for some years past, feeling a 
greater need of them, I have sought them out more. I have 
always got on well with them; for, though some of them have no 
experience, they are not averse from spirituality, nor are they 
ignorant of its nature, for they study Holy Scripture, where the 
truth about it can always be found. I believe myself that, if a 
person who practises prayer consults learned men, the devil 
will not deceive him with illusions except by his own desire; 
for I think devils are very much afraid of learned men who are 
, humble and virtuous, knowing that they will find them out and 
defeat them. 

I have said this because some people think that learnedjmen, 
if they are not spiritual, are unsuitable for those who practise 
prayer. I have already said that a spiritual director is necessary, 
but if he has no learning it is a great inconvenience. It will help 
us very much to consult learned men, provided they are virtuous ; 
even if they are not spiritual they will do us good and God will 
show them what they should teach and may even make them 
spiritual so that they may be of service to us. I do not say this 
without proof and I have had experience of quite a number. 1 
Anyone, I repeat, who surrenders his soul to a single director, 
and is subject to him alone, will be making a great mistake, if he 
1 [Z&: "of more than two" but the expression is a figurative one.] 



82 LIFE [CHAP. 

is a religious, and has to be subject to his own superior, in not 
obtaining a director of this kind. For the director may be lacking 
in all the three things, and that will be no light cross for the 
penitent to bear without voluntarily submitting his understanding 
to one whose understanding is not good. For myself, I have never 
been able to bring myself to do this, nor do I think it right. If 
such a person be in the world, let him praise God that he is able 
to choose the director to whom he is to be subject and let him not 
give up such righteous freedom; let him rather remain without 
a director until he finds the right one, for the Lord will give him 
one if his life is founded upon humility and he has the desire to 
succeed. I praise God greatly, and we women, and those who are 
not learned, ought always to give Him infinite thanks, that there 
are persons who with such great labour have attained to the truth 
of which we ignorant people know nothing. 

I am often amazed that learned men, and religious in particular, 
will give me the benefit of what they have gained with so much 
labour, and at no cost to myself save the labour of asking for it. 
And to think that there may be people who have no desire to 
reap such benefits ! God forbid it be so] I see these learned fathers 
bearing the trials of the religious life, which are grievous ones 
its penances, its poor food and its obligation to obey: really, I am 
sometimes downright ashamed to think of it. And then, the scant 
sleep they get: nothing but trials, nothing but crosses! I think 
it would be very wrong for anyone, through his own fault, to 
forfeit the benefits of such a life as that. It may be that some of us 
who are free from these trials who are pampered, as they say 
and live just as we like, think ourselves superior to those who 
undergo them, merely because we practise a little more prayer 
than they. 

Blessed be Thou, Lord., Who hast made me so incompetent 
and unprofitable ! Most heartily do I praise Thee because Thou 
quickenest so many to quicken us ! We should pray most regularly 
for those who give us light. What would become of us without 
them amid these great storms which the Church now ha^ to bear? 
If some of them have been wicked, the good will shine the more. 
May it please the Lord to keep them in His hand and help them 
to help us. Amen. 

I have wandered far from the aim with which I began, but 
for those who are beginners it is all to the point, and it will help 
them, as they set out upon so high a journey, to keep their feet 
planted upon the true road. Returning to what I was saying- 
the meditation upon Christ bound to the Column it is well to 
reflect for a time and to think of the pains which He bore there, 
why He bore them, Who He is that bore them and with wjhat love 



XIII] LIFE 83 

He suffered them. But we must not always tire ourselves by going 
in search of such ideas ; we must sometimes remain by His side 
with our minds hushed in silence. If we can, we should occupy 
ourselves in looking upon Him Who is looking at us; keep Him 
company; talk with Him; pray to Him; humble ourselves before 
Him; have our delight in Him; and remember that He never 
deserved to be there. Anyone who can do this, though he may be 
but a beginner in prayer, will derive great benefit from it, for this 
kind of prayer brings many benefits: at least, so my soul has 
found. I do not know whether I have succeeded in what I have 
tried to say; but Your Reverence will know. May the Lord grant 
me always to succeed in pleasing Him. Amen. 



CHAPTER XIV 

Begins to describe the second degree of prayer > in which the Lord grants the 
soul experience of more special consolations. This description is made 
in order to explain the supernatural character of these consolations. 
It should be most carefully noted. 

Having now spoken of the labour and manual effort with 
which this garden is watered when one draws water from the well, 
let us now speak of the second way of drawing it which is ordained 
by the Lord of the garden. By using a device of windlass and 
buckets the gardener draws more water with less labour and is 
able to take some rest instead of being continually at work. It is 
this method, applied to the prayer called the Prayer of Quiet, 
that; I now wish to describe. 

This state, in which the soul begins to recollect itself, borders on 
the supernatural, to which it could in no way attain by its own 
exertions. True, it sometimes seems to have been wearied by its 
work at the windlass its labouring with the understanding 
and its filling of the buckets; but in this state the water is higher 
and thus much less labour is required than for the drawing of it 
from the well. I mean that the water is nearer to it, for grace 
reveals itself to the soul more clearly. This state is a recollecting 
of the faculties within the soul, so that its fruition of that con- 
tentment may be of greater delight. But the faculties are not lost, 
nor do they sleep. The will alone is occupied, in such a way that, 
without knowing how, it becomes captive. It allows itself to be 
imprisoned by God, as one who well knows itself to be the captive 
of Him Whom it loves. Oh, my Jesus and Lord, how much Thy 
love now means to us ! It binds our own love so straitiy that 



84 LIFE [CHAP. 

at that moment it leaves us no freedom to love anything but 
Thee. 

The other two faculties help the will so that it may become 
more and more capable of enjoying so great a blessing, though 
sometimes it comes about that, even when the will is in union, they 
hinder it exceedingly. When that happens it should take no 
notice of them but remain in its fruition and quiet; for, if it tries to 
recollect them, both it and they will suffer. At such a time they are 
like doves which are not pleased with the food given them by the 
owner of the dovecot, without their having worked for it, and go 
in search of food elsewhere, but are so unsuccessful that they re- 
turn. Just so these faculties come and go, to see if the will will give 
them some part of what it is enjoying. If this be the Lord's 
pleasure, it throws them food and they stop; if not, they return 
to their search. They must reflect that they are benefiting the will ; 
or sometimes the memory or the imagination may do it harm by 
trying to present it with a picture of what it is enjoying. The will, 
then, must be careful in its dealings with them, as I shall explain. 

Everything that now takes place brings the greatest consolation, 
and so little labour is involved that, even if prayer continues for 
a long time, it never becomes wearisome. For the understanding 
is now working very gradually and is drawing very much more 
water than it drew from the well. The tears which God bestows 
here flow joyfully; though the soul is conscious of them, it does 
nothing to induce them. 

This water of great blessings and favours which the Lord gives 
in this state makes the virtues grow much more, beyond all com- 
parison, than in the previous one; for the soul is already rising 
from its miserable condition and gaining some slight foreknowledge 
of the joys of glory. This, I believe, makes the virtues grow and 
also brings them nearer to that true Virtue from Whom all virtues 
spring namely, God. For His Majesty begins to communicate 
Himself to this soul and wishes it to be conscious of the method 
of His communication. As soon as it arrives at this state, it begins 
to lose its covetousness for the things of earth. And small merit to 
it, for it sees clearly that on earth it cannot have a moment of this 
joy; that there are no riches, or dominions, or honours, or delights 
which suffice to give it such satisfaction even for the twinkling 
of an eye; for this is true joy, and* the soul realizes that itds this 
which gives genuine satisfaction. Those of us who are on earth, it 
seems to me, rarely understand where this satisfaction lies. It 
comes and goes. First it is with us ; then it-leaves us, and we find 
that it is all gone, and we cannot get it back again, having no idea 
how to do so. For even if we wear ourselves to pieces with penances 
and prayers and all kinds of other things, we can acquire but little 



XIV] LIFE 85 

if the Lord is not pleased to bestow it. God, of His greatness, 
desires the soul to realize that His Majesty is so near it that it 
need not send Him messengers, 1 but may speak with Him itself; 
nor need it cry aloud, because He is so near it that it has only to 
move its lips and He will understand it. 

It seems beside the point to say this, as we know that God 
always understands us and is always with us. There is no possible 
doubt that this is so; but this Emperor and Lord of ours desires 
us now to realize that He understands us, and what is accom- 
plished by His presence, and that He is about to begin a special 
work in the soul through the great satisfaction, both inward and 
outward, that He gives it, and through the difference which there 
is, as I have said, between this particular delight and contentment 
and others which we experience on earth, for He seems to be filling 
the void in our souls that we have caused by our sins. This satis- 
faction resides in the most intimate part of the soul, and the soul 
cannot tell whence or how it has come to it; often it knows neither 
what to do, nor to wish, nor to ask. It seems to find everything 
at once, yet not to know what it has found: I do not myself 
know how to explain this. For many purposes it is necessary to be 
learned ; and it would be very useful to have some learning here, in 
order to explain what is meaht by general or particular help (for 
there are many who do not know this) and how it is now the Lord's 
will that the soul should see this particular help (as they say) with 
its own eyes; and learning would also serve to explain many other 
things about which mistakes may be made. However, as what I 
write is to be seen by persons who will know if I am wrong, I am 
going on without worrying about it. I know I have no need to 
worry from the point of 'view either of learning or of spirituality, 
as this is going into the possession of those who will be able to 
judge it and will cut out anything which may be amiss. 

I should like, then, to explain this, because it is a fundamental 
matter, and, when the Lord begins to grant these favours, the soul 
itself does not understand them, or know what it ought to do. 
If God leads it, as He led me, by the way of fear, and there is no 
one who understands it, its trial will be a heavy one; and it will 
be very glad to read a description of itself which will show clearly 
that it is travelling on the right road. And it will be a great 
blessing for it to know what it has to do in order to continue to 
make progress in any of these states : I myself, through not knowing 
what to do, have suffered much and lost a great deal of time. 
I am very sorry for souls who reach this state and find themselves 
alone; for, although I have read many spiritual books which 
touch upon the matter, they explain very little; and if the soul 

1 [Cf. St. John of the Cross: Spiritual Confab, Stanza VT.] 



86 LIFE [CHAP. 

has not had a great deal of practice in prayer it will have as much 
as it can do to understand its own case, however much the books 
may explain. 

I wish very much that the Lord would help me to set forth 
the effects which these things produce in the soul and which 
are already verging on the supernatural, so that it may be known 
by the effects which they produce whether or no they proceed 
from the Spirit of God. Known, I mean, to the extent to which 
it is possible to know things on earth: it is always well that we 
should act with fear and caution, for, even if these things come 
from God, the devil may sometimes be able to transform himself 
into an angel of light. 1 If the soul has not had a great deal of 
experience it will not realize this, and so much experience is 
necessary that, in order to understand it, one must have reached 
the very summit of prayer. The little time I have makes it none 
too easy for me to explain this, for which reason it is necessary 
that His Majesty should make the matter clear, for I have my 
work to do in the community and many other occupations (being 
now in a recently founded house, as will be seen later 2 ) and so I 
can never settle down to what I write but have to do a little at a 
time. I wish I had more time, for, when the Lord gives inspiration, 
one can write better and more easily. I seem to be like one work- 
ing with a pattern before her and copying it with her needle* I 
can perform my task, but if inspiration is wanting I can no more 
put my words together properly than if I were writing gibberish, 
as one might say, however many years I may have spent in prayer. 
And so I think it is a very great advantage to be immersed in 
prayer when I am writing. I realize clearly that it is not I who am 
saying this; for I am not putting it together with my own under- 
standing and afterwards I cannot tell how I have managed to 
say it at all. This often happens to me. 

Let us now return to our garden, or orchard, and see how these 
trees begin to take new life before putting forth flowers and 
afterwards giving fruit, and the flowers carnations and so forth 3 - 
begin to give out their fragrance. I am pleased with this comparison, 
for often, when I was a beginner (and may the Lord grant that I 
have in fact even now begun to serve His Majesty- but I mean 
a beginner by comparison with what I shall say about my life here- 
after), it used to give me great delight to think of my soul as a 
garden and of the Lord as walking in it. I would beg Him to 
increase the fragrance of the little buds of virtue which seemed to 

1 [ 2 Corinthians xi, 14]. 

* I.e., St. Joseph's, Avila. 

8 [Lit. , " the flowers and carnations." No doubt carnations, with their strong 
fragrance, were flowers which particularly appealed to St. Teresa, she often lays 
special stress on some- such thing when it catches her imagination.] 



XIV] LIFE 87 

be beginning to appear, and to keep them alive so that they might 
bloom to His glory for I wanted nothing for myself and I 
would ask Him to prune away any of them He wished to, for I 
knew that the plants would be all the better if He did. I speak of 
pruning, for there come times when the soul feels like anything 
but a garden : everything seems dry to it and no water comes to 
refresh it, and one would think there had never been any kind of 
virtue in it at all. The soul suffers many trials, for the Lord 
wants the poor gardener to think that all the trouble he has taken 
in watering the garden and keeping it alive is lost. Then is the 
proper time for weeding and rooting out the smaller plants, and 
this must be done, however small they may be, if they are useless; 
for we know that no efforts of ours are availing if God with- 
holds from us the water of grace, and we must despise ourselves as 
nothing and as less than nothing. By doing this we can gain great 
humility and then the flowers will begin to grow afresh. 

O my Lord and my Good! I cannot say this without tears 
and great delight of soul that Thou, Lord, shouldst wish to be 
with us, and art with us, in the Sacrament. We may believe that 
this is so, in very truth, for so it is, and with the utmost truth we 
may make this comparison; and if our faults do not impede us 
we may rejoice in Thee and Thou wilt take Thy delight in us, 
since Thou sayest that Thy delight is to be with the children of 
men. 1 O my Lord! What is this? Whenever I hear these words 
they are a great comfort to me, as they were even when I had 
gone far astray. Is it possible, Lord, that there can be a soul which 
reaches a state in which Thou dost grant it such graces and favours 
and can realize that Thou takest Thy delight in it, and yet 
offends Thee again after Thou hast shown it so many favours 
and such signal marks of love that it cannot doubt them since it 
sees Thy work so clearly? Yes, there is indeed such a soul there 
is myself. And I have done this not once, but often. May it please 
Thy goodness, Lord, that I may be alone in my ingratitude, that 
I may be the only one to have committed so great a wrong and 
been so excessively ungrateful. Yet even from me some good has 
been brought forth by Thine infinite goodness, and, the greater 
have been my sins, the more has the great blessing of Thy mercies 
shone forth in me. How many reasons have I for singing of them 
for ever! I beseech Thee, my God, that it may be so : may I sing 
of them, and that without end, since Thou -hast seen good to work 
such exceeding great mercies in me that they amaze those who 
behold them, while as for me, I am drawn out of myself by them 
continually, that I may be the better able to sing Thy praise. 
For, so long as I am in myself, my Lord, and without Thee, I can 

1 Proverbs viii, 31. 



88 LIFE [CHAP. 

do nothing but be cut off like the flowers in this garden, 1 and this 
miserable earth will become a dunghill again as before. Permit 
it not, Lord. Let it not be Thy will that a soul which Thou hast 
purchased with so many trials should be lost, when Thou hast 
so often redeemed it anew and hast snatched it from the teeth 
of the horrible dragon. 

Your Reverence must forgive me for wandering from my 
subject: as I am speaking with a purpose in my mind you must not 
be surprised. I am writing what comes to my soul; and at times 
when, as I write, the greatness of the debt I owe Him rises up 
before me, it is only by a supreme effort that I can refrain from 
going on to sing praises to God. And I think Your Reverence 
will not be displeased by it, because I believe we can both sing the 
same song, though in a different way; for my debt to God is much 
the greater, since He has forgiven me more, as Your Reverence 
knows. 



CHAPTER XV 

Continues speaking of the same subject and gives certain counsels as to how 
the soul must behave in this Prayer of Quiet. Tells how there are 
many souls who attain to this prayer and few who pass beyond it. 
The things touched herein are very necessary and profitable. 

Let us now return to our subject. This quiet and recollected- 
ness in the soul makes itself felt largely through the satisfaction 
and peace which it brings to it, together with a very great joy and 
repose of the faculties and a most sweet delight. As the soul has 
never gone beyond this stage, it thinks there is no more left for it to 
desire and, like Saint Peter, it wishes that it could make its abode 
here. 2 It dares not move or stir, for it thinks that if it does so this 
blessing may slip from its grasp: sometimes it would like to be 
unable even to breathe. The poor creature does not realize 
that, having been unable to do anything of itself to acquire that 
blessing, it will be still less able to keep it longer than the time 
for which the Lord is pleased that it shall possess it. I have already 
said that, in this first state of recollection and quiet, the faculties of 
the soul do not fail; but the soul has such satisfaction in God that, 
although the other two faculties may be distracted, yet, since the 
will is in 1 union with God for as long as the recollection lasts, its 

1 [The verb sorter, here translated "cut off", is rendered "prune", "prune away" 
just above (p. 87). The sense is different here but the author seems to have the 
earlier passage in mind.] 

* St. Matthew xvii, 4. 



XV] LIFE 89 

quiet and repose are not lost, but the will gradually brings the 
understanding and memory back to a state of recollection again. 
For, although the will is not yet completely absorbed, it is so well 
occupied, without knowing how, that, whatever the efforts made 
by the understanding and memory, they cannot deprive it of its 
contentment and rejoicing: indeed, without any labour on its 
part, it helps to prevent this little spark of love for God from 
being quenched. 

May His Majesty give me grace to explain this clearly, for 
there are many, many souls that reach this state and few that 
pass beyond it, and I do not know who is to blame for this. 
Most certainly it is not God; Tor, since His Majesty grants us 
the favour of advancing to this point, I do not believe that, 
unless there are faults on our part, He will fail to grant us many 
more favours. It is very important that the soul which arrives 
thus far should recognize the great dignity of its state and the 
greatness of the favours which the Lord has granted it, and 
how there is good reason why it should not belong to the earth, 
since, unless its own faults impede it, His goodness seems to be 
making it a citizen of Heaven. Alas for such a soul if it turns 
back ! If it does so, I think it will begin to go downhill, as I 
should have done had not the Lord's mercy saved me. For, 
as a rule, I believe, it can be due only to grave faults : it is im- 
possible to forfeit so great a blessing save through gross blindness 
caused by much. evil. 

And so, for love of the Lord, I beg the souls whom His Majesty 
has granted so great a favour as to attain to this state to learn 
to know themselves, and to hold themselves, with a humble and 
a holy presumption, in high esteem, so that they shall not return 
to the flesh-pots of Egypt. And if, through their weakness and 
wickedness and their miserable and wretched nature, they fall, 
as I did, let them ever bear in mind what a blessing they have 
lost, and preserve their misgivings and walk fearfully, as they 
have good reason to do, for unless they return to prayer they 
will go from bad to worse. I should call anything a real fall 
which made us hate the road that had led us to so great a blessing. 
In talking to these souls I do not say that they will not offend 
God and fall into sin; anyone who has begun to receive these 
favours would be right in guarding himself carefully against 
falling; for we are miserable sinners. What I strongly advise 
them to do is not to give up prayer, for prayer will enlighten them 
as to what they are doing, and the Lord will grant them repen- 
tance and strength to rise again. They must believe, and keep 
on believing, that if they cease from prayer they are running 
(or so I think) into danger. I am not sure if I understand what 



go LIFE [CHAP. 

I am saying, because, as I have said, I am judging from my 
own experience. 

This prayer, then, is a little spark of true love for the Lord 
which He begins to enkindle in the soul, and His will is that it 
should come to understand the nature of this love with its atten- 
dant joy. This quiet and recollection this little spark if it 
proceeds from the Spirit of God and is not a pleasure bestowed 
on us by the devil or sought by ourselves, is not a thing that can 
be acquired, as anyone who has experience of it must perforce 
realize immediately, but this nature of ours is so eager for delec- 
table experiences that it tries to get all it can. Soon, however, 
it becomes very cold; for, hard as we may try to make the fire 
burn in order to obtain this pleasure, we seem only to be throwing 
water on it to quench it. This little spark, then, planted within 
us by God, small though it is, makes a loud noise; and if we do 
not quench it through some fault of our own, it is this that 
begins to kindle the great fire which (as I shall say in due course) 
sends forth the flames of that most ardent love of God with which 
His Majesty endows the souls of the perfect. 

This spark is given to the soul by God as a sign or pledge that He 
is already choosing it for great things if it will prepare itself to 
receive them. It is a great gift, much greater than I can say. 
I am very sorry for this, for, as I have said, I know many souls 
who attain thus far; and I know, too, that those who go farther, 
as they ought to do, are so few that I am ashamed to confess it. 
I do not mean that they are really few, for there must be a great 
many of them, since God does not uphold us without a purpose. 
I ani merely telling what I have seen. I should like very much 
to advise such persons to be careful not to hide their talent, for 
it would seem that God is pleased to choose them to the advantage 
of many, especially in these times when He needs His friends 
to be strong so that they may uphold the weak. Let those who 
recognize that they themselves have this grace look upon them- 
selves as His friends if they can fulfil the obligations which even 
the world demands of faithful friendship. Otherwise, as I have 
just said, let them fear and tremble lest they be doing some harm 
to themselves and please God it be to themselves alone! 

What the soul has to do at these seasons of quiet is merely to 
go softly- and make no noise. By noise, I mean going about 
with the understanding in search of many words and reflections 
with which to give thanks for this benefit and piling up its sins 
and imperfections so as to make itself realize that it does not 
deserve it. It is now that all this movement takes place: the 
understanding brings forward its representations and the ngiemory 
becomes active and sometimes I myself find these faculties really 



XV] LIFE 91 

wearisome, for, weak though my memory is, I cannot subdue 
it. The will must be calm and discreet and realize that we 
cannot treat effectively with God by the might of our own 
efforts and that these are like great logs of wood being heaped 
up indiscriminately so that they will quench this spark. Let it 
recognize this and with all humility say: "Lord, what can I 
do here? What has the servant to do with her Lord? What has 
earth to do with Heaven?" Or let it utter any words of love 
which come to its mind, with the firm and sure knowledge that 
what it is saying is the truth; and let it take no notice of the 
understanding, which is merely making itself a nuisance. And 
if the will wishes to communicate its joy to the understanding, 
or strives to lead it into recollection (as will often happen in this 
union of the will and state of tranquillity), and the understanding 
is very much disturbed, it will do better to leave it alone than 
to run after it. Let it (the will, I mean) continue in the fruition 
of that favour, and be as recollected as the wise little bee, for if 
no bees entered the hive and they all went about trying to bring 
each other in, there would not be much chance of their making 
any honey. 

The soul will lose a great deal if it is not careful about this, 
especially if it has a lively understanding, with the result that, 
when it begins to hold discourse with itself and think out reflec- 
tions, it will soon begin to fancy it is doing something worth 
while if its discourses and reflections are at all clever. All that 
the reason has to do in this state is to understand that there is 
no reason, save His goodness alone, why God should grant us 
so great a favour, and to realize that we are very near Hun, and 
to beg favours of His Majesty, and to pray to Him for the Church 
and for those who have been commended to us and for the souls 
in purgatory not, however, with any noise of words, though 
with a hearty desire that He may hear us. This is a prayer that 
comprises a great deal and achieves more than any amount of 
meditation on the part of the understanding. Let the will, in 
order to quicken its love, arouse within itself certain reasons 
which reason itself will picture -to it when it sees itself in so much 
better a state. Let it make certain acts of love, too, concerning 
what it will do for Him to Whom it owes so much, without 
allowing the understanding to make any noise, as I have said, 
in its search for these clever reflections. A few little straws laid 
down with humility (and they will be less than straws if it is 
we who lay them down) are more to the point here, and of 
more use for kindling the fire, than any amount of wood that 
i$, of the most learned reasoning which, in our opinion, will 
put it out in a moment. This will be good advice for the learned 



92 LIFE [CHAP. 

men who are commanding me to write, for, by the goodness of 
God, all of them will reach this state, and it may be they will 
spend their time in making applications of verses from Scripture; 
but, although they will have no difficulty in making good use 
of their learning both before and after prayer, they will have 
little need for it, in my view, during their actual periods of prayer, 
when it will only make their will lukewarm; for at those times 
the understanding, through being so near the light, sees with 
the greatest clearness, so that even I, though the sort of person 
I am, seem to be quite different. 

Thus, when in this state of Quiet, I, who understand hardly 
anything that I recite in Latin, particularly in the Psalter, have 
not only been able to understand the text as though it were in 
Spanish but have even found to my delight that I can penetrate 
the meaning of the Spanish. Let us leave out of account occasions 
when these learned men have to preach or teach, for then it 
will be well for them to make use of their learning, so as to 
help poor ignorant creatures like myself, for charity is a great 
thing, and so is a constant care for souls, when undertaken 
simply and purely for the sake of God. In these periods of Quiet, 
then, let the soul repose in its rest; let them put their learning 
aside; the time will come when they will use it in the Lord's 
service and will esteem it so much that they would not have 
failed to acquire it for all the treasures imaginable, simply 
because they can serve His Majesty with it and for this purpose 
find it a great help. But in the sight of Infinite Wisdom, believe 
me, there is more value in a little study of humility and in a 
single act of it than in all the knowledge in the world. So in 
this state there is no room for argument but only for a plain 
recognition of what we are, a presenting of ourselves in our 
simplicity before God, Whose will is that the soul should become 
a fool, as in truth it is in His sight, for it is due to His Majesty's 
great humility, 1 we being what we are, that He suffers it to be 
near Him. 

The understanding is also active now and gives thanks in set 
terms; but the will, in its tranquillity, is like the publican and 
dares not lift up its eyes, yet perhaps makes a better thanks- 
giving than the understanding can even when it has exhausted 
all its rhetoric. In short, mental prayer must not be completely 
given up, nor yet must vocal prayer, if we ever wish to turn 
to it and are able to do so; for, if the state of Quiet is intense, 
it becomes difficult to speak except with great distress. In my 

1 Without altering the word "humility", P. Bdnez wrote underneath it, in the 
original manuscript, "humanity". This emendation [if it was meant for one] has 
been adopted by none of the editions. 



XV] LIFE 93 

own opinion, it is possible to tell if this state comes from the 
Spirit of God or if, starting from devotion given us by God, 
we have attained to it by our own efforts. In the latter case, as 
I have said, we try of our own accord to pass on to this quiet 
of the will, and nothing comes of it; everything is quickly over 
and we are left in a state of aridity. If it comes from the devil, 
I think a practised soul will realize this, for it leaves behind it 
disquiet and very little humility and does little to prepare the 
soul for the effects produced by such prayer when it comes from 
God. It leaves neither light in the understanding nor steadfast- 
ness in the will. 1 

The devil, in such a case, can do little or no harm if the" 
soul directs the delight and sweetness which it now feels towards 
God and fixes its thoughts and desires upon Him, as it has already 
been advised to do. He can gain nothing; in fact, by Divine 
permission, the very delight which he causes in the soul will 
contribute to his frustration. For this delight will help the soul: 
thinking it to be of God, it will often come to its prayer with a 
desire for Him; and if it is a humble soul, and not curious or 
eager for joys, even for spiritual joys, but attached to the Gross, 
it will pay little attention to pleasure given by the devil, but 
will be unable to disregard that which comes from the Spirit 
of God, for this it will hold in high esteem. When the devil, 
being altogether a liar, sends the soul any pleasure or delight, 
and sees that this is causing it to humble itself (and it should 
try to be humble in all that concerns prayer and consolations), 
he will often see how he has been frustrated and refrain from 
trying again. For this and for many reasons, in writing of the 
first kind of prayer, and of the first water, I pointed out that 
it is most important for souls, when they begin to practise prayer, 
to start by detaching themselves from every kind of pleasure, 
and to enter upon their prayer with one sole determination, to 
help Christ bear His Cross. Anxious, like good knights, to serve 
their King without pay, since they are quite sure of their final 
reward, they will keep their eyes fixed upon the true and ever- 
lasting kingdom to which we are striving to attain. 

It is a very great thing always to bear this in mind, especially 
at first; later, we realize it so clearly that we need to forget it, 
so that we may live out our lives, rather than to try to recall 
to our memory how brief is the duration of everything, and how 

1 The original has "truth" (verdad), not "will" (voluntod). [P. Silverio, while 
agreeing that vohaitad is more logical, respects the clear reading of the autograph and 
gives verdad\ but the context, I think, makes it quite clear that "will** is meant, 
and the two words, in the Spanish, are sufficiently alike to be confused by a writer 
as often inaccurate as St. Teresa. Lewis, p. 122, n., cites three Spanish commentators 
who have adopted volwtad) though he himself translates " truth ".] 



4 LIFE [CHAP. 

othing is of any value, and how such earthly rest as we have 
lust be reckoned as no rest at all. This seems to be a very 
)w ideal, and so indeed it is, and those who have reached a 
lore advanced state, and a greater degree of perfection, would 
onsider it a reproach and be ashamed if they thought that the 
sason they were renouncing the good things of this world was 
ecause these must pass away: even were such things everlasting, 
ley would rejoice to give them up for God. The nearer are 
aese souls to perfection, the greater would be their joy, and the 
reater, too, would it be if these earthly blessings lasted longer. 

In souls like these love is already highly developed and it is 
Dve which works in them. But for beginners this other considera- 
Lon is of the greatest importance, and they must not look upon 
. as a low ideal, for the blessing that it brings is a great one, 
nd for this reason I strongly commend it to them: even those 
/ho have reached great heights of prayer will find it necessary, 
/hen from time to time God is pleased to" prove them and His 
/Iajesty w seems to have forsaken them. For, as I have already 
aid and I should not like this to be forgotten in this life of 
urs the soul does not grow in the way the body does, though 
/e speak as if it did, and growth does in fact occur. But whereas 

child, after attaining to the full stature of a man, does not 
iminish in size so that his body becomes small again, in spiritual 
latters the Lord is pleased that such diminution should take 
lace at least, according to my own observation, for I have 
o other means of knowing. This must be in order to humble 
s for our greater good, and so that we may not grow careless 
tfiile we are in this exile; for, the higher a person has climbed, 
le more fearful he should be and the less he should trust him- 
slf. There come times when those whose will is so completely 
ibjected to the will of God that they would let themselves be 
Drtured rather than be guilty of one imperfection and die a 
lousand deaths rather than commit sins, find it necessary, if 
icy are to be free from offending God, when they see them- 
ilves assaulted by temptations and persecutions, to make use 
E" the primary weapons that is, of prayer and thus to recall 

> themselves that everything comes to an end, that there is a 
eaven and a hell, and other truths of the same kind. 

Returning now to what I was saying, the great foundation 
hich we must lay, if we are to be delivered from the snares 
id pleasures sent by the devil, is the initial determination not 

> desire these pleasures, but to walk from the first in the way 
* the Cross. For the Lord Himself showed us this way of per- 
ction when He said: "Take up thy cross and follow Me." 1 

1 St. Matthew xvi, 124 



XV] L IF fi 95 

He is our Pattern; and those who follow His counsels with the 
sole aim of pleasing Him have nothing to fear. 

They will know, by the improvement which they discern in 
themselves, that this is not the work of the devil. For, even 
though they keep falling, there is one sign that the Lord has 
been with them namely, the speed with which they rise again. 
There are also other signs, which I shall now describe. When 
the Spirit of God is at work, there is no need to go about looking 
for ways of inducing humility and confusion; for the Lord 
Himself reveals these to us in a very different manner from any 
which we can find by means of our puny reflections, which are 
nothing by comparison with a true humility proceeding from 
the light given us in this way by the Lord. This produces a 
confusion which quite overwhelms us. The bestowal upon us of 
this knowledge by God so that we may learn that we ourselves 
have nothing good is a well-known experience, and the greater 
are the favours we receive from Him, the better we learn it. 
He gives us a burning desire to make progress in prayer, and 
not to abandon it, however great the trials it may bring us. We 
offer ourselves wholly to Him and we experience a security 
combined with humility and fear with respect to our salvation. 
This casts out from the soul all servile fear and implants in it a 
very much maturer fear which springs from faith. We realize 
that there is beginning to develop within us a love of God entirely 
devoid of self-interest and we desire periods of solitude in order 
to have the greater fruition of that blessing. 

Let me end, lest I should grow weary, by saying that this 
prayer is the beginning of all blessings: the flowers have now 
reached a point at which they are almost ready to bloom. The 
soul is very conscious of this and at such a time it could not 
possibly decide that God was not with it; only when it becomes 
conscious once more of its failings and imperfections does it 
grow fearful of everything, as it is well that it should. There are 
souls, nevertheless, whose confidence that God is with them 
brings them benefits which are greater than all the fears that 
can beset them. For, if a soul is by nature loving and grateful^ 
the remembrance of the favour which God has granted it causes 
it to turn to God despite all the punishments of hell which it 
can imagine. This, at any rate, was what happened to me, 
wicked as I am. 

As I shall go on later to speak of the signs of true spirituality 
and it has cost me much labour to apprehend them clearly 
I am not going to speak of them here and now. I believe that, by 
God's help, I shall be able to do so with some degree of success; 
for, quite apart from the experiences which have done me so 



96 LIFE [CHAP. 

much good, I have been taught by certain very learned men 
and very holy persons to whom it is right that credence should 
be given, so that souls which by the Lord's goodness reach this 
point may not become as fatigued as I did. 



CHAPTER XVI 

Treats of the third degree of prayer and continues to expound veiy lofty 
matters^ describing what the soul that teaches this state is able to dp 
and the effects produced by these great favours of the Lord. This 
chapter is well calculated to uplift the spirit in praises to God and 
to provide great consolation for those who teach this state. 

Let us now go on to speak of the third water with which this 
garden is watered that is, of running water proceeding from a 
river or a spring. This irrigates the garden with much less 
trouble, although a certain amount is caused by the directing of 
it. But the Lord is now pleased to help the gardener, so that He 
may almost be said to be the gardener Himself, for it is He Who 
does everything. This state is a sleep of the faculties, which are 
neither wholly lost nor yet can understand how they work. 
The pleasure and sweetness and delight are incomparably greater 
than in the previous state, for the water of grace rises to the 
very neck of the soul, so that it is unable to go forward, and has 
no idea how to do so, yet neither can it turn back: it would fain 
have the fruition of exceeding great glory. It is like a person 
holding the candle in his hand 1 , who is * soon to die a death that 
he longs for; and in that agony it is rejoicing with ineffable joy. 
This seems to -me to be nothing less than an all but complete 
death to everything in the world and a fruition of God. I know 
no other terms in which to describe it or to explain it, nor does 
the soul, at such a time, know what to do: it knows not whether 
to speak or to be silent, whether to laugh or to weep. This state 
is a glorious folly, a heavenly madness, in which true wisdom is 
acquired, and a mode of fruition in which the soul finds the 
greatest delight 

It is now, I believe, some five, or perhaps six, years since the 
Lord granted me this prayer in abundance, and granted it me 
many times, yet I never understood it or knew how to describe 
it. My intention, therefore, when I reached 'this point, was to 
say very little about it, or even nothing at all. I fully realized 

1 [I have translated literally, but the phrase, a common one in Spanish, is equivalent 
to "at the point of death."] 



XVI] LIFE 97 

that it was not a complete union of all the faculties and yet it 
was very obviously something higher than the previous state 
of prayer; but I confess that I could neither decide nor under- 
stand the nature of this difference. I believe it is because of 
Your Reverence's humility in consenting to be helped by sim- 
plicity as great as mine that to-day, after I had communicated, 
the Lord granted me this prayer, without allowing me to go 
beyond it, and set these comparisons before me, and taught me 
how to express all this and to describe what the soul in this 
state must do. I was certainly astonished, for in a moment I 
understood everything. I used often to commit follies because 
of this love, and to be inebriated with it, yet I had never been 
able to understand its nature. I realized that it came from 
God but I could not understand the method of His working; 
for the truth is that the faculties are in almost complete union, 
though not so much absorbed as not to act. I am extremely 
pleased at having understood it at last. Blessed be the Lord, Who 
has given me this consolation! 

The faculties retain only the power of occupying themselves 
wholly with God; not one of them, it seems, ventures to stir, 
nor can we cause any of them to move except by trying to fix 
our attention very carefully on something else, and even then 
I do not think we could entirely succeed in doing so. Many 
words are spoken, during this state, in praise of God, but,, unless 
the Lord Himself puts order into them, they have no orderly 
form. The understanding, at any rate, counts for nothing here; 
the soul would like to shout praises . aloud, for it is in such a 
state that it cannot contain itself a state of delectable disquiet. 
Already the flowers are opening: see, they are beginning to 
send out their fragrance. The soul would like everyone to see 
her now, and become aware of her glory, to the praise of God, 
and help her to sing His praises. She seems to me like the woman 
spoken of in the Gospel, who wanted to call (or did call) her 
neighbours 1 . Such as these, I think, must have been the wondrous 
feelings of the royal prophet David, when he played on the 
harp and sang in praise of God. I am very much devoted to 
this glorious long and I wish all were, especially those of us who 
are sinners. 2 

God, what must that soul be like when it is in this state! 
It would fain be all tongue, so that it might praise the Lord. 
It utters a thousand holy follies, striving ever to please Him Who 
thus possesses it. I know a person who, though no poet, composed 

1 St. Luke xv, 9. 

* The feast of King David is to be found in the Carmelite calendar revised by the 
Chapter-General in 1564. 



gfc LIFE [CHAP. 

some verses in a very short time, which were full of feeling and 
admirably descriptive of her pain 1 : they did not come from 
her understanding, but, in order the better to enjoy the bliss 
which came to her from such delectable pain, she complained 
of it to her God. She would have been glad if she could have 
been cut to pieces, body and soul, to show what joy this pain 
caused her. What torments could have been set before her at 
such a time which she would not have found it delectable to 
endure for her Lord's sake? She sees clearly that, when the 
martyrs suffered their torments, they did hardly anything of 
themselves, for the soul is well aware that fortitude comes from 
somewhere outside itself. But what will the soul experience 
when it regains its senses and goes back to live in the world 
and has to return to the world's preoccupations and formalities? 
I do not think what I say is in the least exaggerated; I have 
rather fallen short of the truth in describing this kind of rejoicing 
which the Lord desires a soul to experience while in this exile. 
Blessed be Thou, Lord, for ever; let all things for ever praise 
Thee. Be pleased now, my King, I beseech Thee, to ordain 
that since, as I write this, I am, by Thy goodness and mercy, 
not yet recovered from this holy heavenly madness a favour 
which Thou grantest me through no merits of my own either 
those with whom I shall have to do may also become mad 
through Thy love or I myself may have no part in anything 
to do with the world or may be taken from it. This servant of 
Thine, my God, can no longer endure such trials as come when 
she finds herself without Thee; for, if she is to live, she desires 
no repose in this life nor would she have Thee give her any. 
This soul would fain see itself free: eating is killing it; sleep 
brings it anguish. It finds itself in this life spending its time 
upon comforts, yet nothing can comfort it but Thee: it seems 
to be living against nature, for it no longer desires to live to 
itself, but only to Thee. 

O my true Lord and Glory, what a cross light and yet most 
heavy hast Thou prepared for those who attain to this state! 
Light, because it is sweet; heavy, because there come times 
when there is no patience that can endure it: never would the 
soul desire to be free from it save to find itself with Thee. When 
it remembers that as yet it has rendered Thee no service and 
that by living 2 it can still serve Thee, it would gladly take up 

a much heavier cross and never die until the end of the world. 

^ 

1 The "person", as so often in St. Teresa, was the author herself. [The description 
of the poem is too vague for it to be identified.] 

2 [Lit.: " oy seeing" (tntndo), which reading P. Silverio adopts; but I think we may 
assume this to be an error for "by living" (vimendo)*] 



XVI] , LIFE 99 

It sets no store by its own repose if by forfeiting this it can do 
Thee a small service. It knows not what to desire, but it well 
knows that it desires nothing else but Thee. 

my son ! (He to whom this is addressed and who commands 
me to write it is so humble that he desires to be addressed thus). 1 
May Your Reverence alone see some of these things in which 
I am transgressing my proper limits! For there is no reason 
strong enough to keep me within the bounds of reason when, 
the Lord takes me out of myself. And since I communicated 
this morning I cannot believe that it is I who am speaking 
at all: I seem to be dreaming what I see and I wish all the 
people I see were suffering from the same complaint that I 
have now. I beseech Your Reverence, let us all be mad, for 
the love of Him Who was called mad for our sakes. Your 
Reverence says that you are attached to me: I want you to 
show it by preparing yourself for God to grant you this favour, 
for I see very few people who are not too worldly-wise to do 
what is incumbent upon them. I may of course be more so 
than anybody else: Your Reverence must not allow me to be. 
You are my confessor, my father 2 , and it is to you that I have 
entrusted my soul : undeceive me, then, by telling me the truth, 
for such truths as these are very seldom told. 

1 wish we five, 3 who now love each other in Christ, could 
make an agreement together. Just as others in recent times 
have been meeting secretly to contrive evil deeds and heresies 
against His Majesty, 4 so we might try to meet sometimes to 
undeceive one another and to advise one another as to ways 
in which we might amend our lives and be more pleasing to 
God; for there is no one who knows himself as well as he is 
known by those who see him if they observe him lovingly and 
are anxious to help him. I say "secretly", because it is no 
longer the fashion to talk in this way: even preachers nowadays 
phrase their sermons so as not to give offence. 5 No doubt their 

1 The reference is to P. Pedro Ibariez. The parenthetical sentence [which I have 
bracketed in the text] is scored through in the autograph, by some hand other than 
the Saint's probably by P. Banez. 

a After this word come three or four others, which have been so effectively scored 
through that they are indecipherable. No doubt they were words eulogizing P. 
Ibdnez. 

8 Probably the other four were P. Daza, Don Francisco de Salcedo, Dona Guiomar 
de Ulloa and P. Ibanez. 

4 The reference is to clandestine meetings held at Valladolid by a group of people 
suspected of heresy, under the leadership of Dr. Agustin Gazalla, a Canon of Sala- 
manca and a Chaplain to the Emperor Charles V. These meetings came to an end in 
1559, when an auto was held which involved persons of high rank and caused a great 
sensation in the country. The unorthodox propaganda of the Cazallist group spread 
as far as Avila and St. Teresa had herself come into contact with it. 

fr P. Banez wrote in the margin of the autograph here: "Legant praedicatores," 



ioo LIFE [CHAP. 

intention is good, and the work they do is good too, but they 
lead few people to amend their lives. How is it that there are 
not many who are led by sermons to forsake open sin? Do you 
know what I think? That it is because preachers have too 
much worldly wisdom. They are not like the Apostles, flinging 
it all aside and catching fire with love for God; and so their 
flame gives little heat: I do not say that their flame is as great 
as the Apostles' was, but I could wish it were stronger than I 
see it is. Does Your Reverence know what our great care ought 
to be? To hold our life in abhorrence and to consider our 
reputation as quite unimportant. Provided we say what is true 
and maintain it to the glory of God, we ought to be indifferent 
whether we lose everything or gain everything. For he who 
in all things is truly bold in God's service will be as ready to 
do the one as the other. I do not say I am that kind of person, 
but I wish I were. 

Oh, what great freedom we enjoy! It makes us look upon 
haying to live and act according to the laws of the world as 
captivity! It is a freedom which we obtain from the Lord; 
and there is not a slave who would not risk everything in order 
to get his ransom and return to his native country. And as 
this is the true road, there is no reason for lingering on it, for 
we shall never gain complete possession of that great treasure 
until our life is over. May the Lord give us His help to this 
end. Your Reverence must tear up what I have written if it 
seems good to you to do so; in that case consider it as a letter 
addressed to yourself and forgive me for having been so bold. 



CHAPTER XVII 

Continues the same subject, the exposition of this third degree of prayer. 
Concludes her exposition of the ejfects produced by it. Describes 
the hindrances caused in this state by the imagination and the 
memory. 

A reasonable amount has been said concerning this mode of 
prayer and of what the soul must now do or, more correctly, 
of what God does within it, for it is He Who now undertakes 
the work of the gardener and is pleased that the soul should be 
idle* The will has only to consent to those favours which it is 
enjoying and to submit to all that true Wisdom may be pleased 
to accomplish in it. And for this it needs courage, that is cer- 
tain; for the joy is so great that sometimes the soul seems to be 



XVII] LIFE 101 

on the point of leaving the body and what a happy death 
that would be! 

In this state I think it is well, as Your Reverence has been 

told, for the soul to abandon itself wholly into the arms of God. 

If He is pleased to take it to Heaven, let it go; if to hell, it is 

not distressed, so long as it is going there with its Good. If its life 

is to come to an end for ever, that is its desire; if it is to live a 

thousand years, that is its desire also. Let His Majesty treat it as 

His own : it no longer belongs to itself; it is given wholly to the 

Lord; it can cease to worry altogether. When God grants the 

soul prayer as sublime as that which belongs to this state, He 

can do all this and much more, for that is the effect it produces. 

The soul realizes that He is doing this without any fatiguing of its 

understanding; only I think it is, as it were, astonished to see 

what a good gardener the Lord is making, and to find that He 

does not desire the soul to undertake any labour, but only to take 

its delight in the first fragrance of the flowers. In any one of these 

visits, brief as its duration may be, the Gardener, being, as 

He is, the Creator of the water, gives the soul water without 

limit; and what the poor soul could not acquire, even if it 

laboured and fatigued its understanding for as much as twenty 

years, this heavenly Gardener achieves in a moment; the fruit 

grows and ripens in such a way that, if the Lord wills, the soul 

can obtain sufficient nourishment from its own garden. But 

He allows it to share the fruit with others only when it has eaten 

so much of it that it is strong enough not to consume it all by 

merely nibbling at it, 1 and not to fail to get profit from it, nor 

to omit to recompense Him Who has bestowed it, but to maintain 

others and give them food at its own cost while itself perhaps 

dying of hunger. This will be understood perfectly by persons 

of intelligence and they will be able to apply it more effectively 

than I can describe it, for I am growing tired. 

The virtues, then, are now stronger than they were previously, 
in the Prayer of Quiet, for the soul sees that it is other than it 
was, and does not realize how it is beginning to do great things 
with the fragrance that is being given forth by the flowers. It 
is the Lord's will that these shall open so that the soul may see 
that it possesses virtues, though it also knows very well that it 
could not itself acquire them, and has in fact been unable to 

1 \Tanjuerte , . . que no se le vaya en gostaduras. A difficult phrase, which used to be 
interpreted by gpTfag gasiaxra^ a presumedly archaic substantive from gaster 
(spend, waste, fail to profit from), for gostadura t of which the modern form is gustedttra, 
and which denotes the action of tasting. But I greatly prefer gostadura^ and, though 
the figure could not be pressed to its logical conclusion, the translation I suggest 
seems wholly in accord with St, Teresa's realistic way of looking at things, whereas 
the eastadura reading ("strong enough not to fritter it all away", "... not to waste 
it all") is by comparison conventional.] 



102 LIFE [CHAP. 

do so even after many years, whereas in this short space of 
time they have been given to it by the heavenly Gardener. 
The humility, too, which remains in the soul is much greater 
and deeper than it was previously, for it sees more clearly that 
it has done nothing at all of itself save to consent that the Lord 
shall grant it favours and to receive them with its will. 

This kind of prayer, I think, is quite definitely a union of the 
entire soul with God, except that His Majesty appears to be 
willing to give the faculties leave to understand, and have 
fruition of, the great things that He is now doing. It happens 
at certain seasons, very often indeed (I say this now so that 
Your Reverence may know that it can happen and recognize 
it when it happens to you: I myself was quite distracted by it), 
that, when the will is in union, the soul realizes that the will 
is captive and rejoicing, and that it alone is experiencing great 
quiet, while, on the other hand, the understanding and the 
memory are so free that they can attend to business and do 
works of charity. This may seem to be just the same as the 
Prayer of Quiet of which I spoke, but it is really different 
partly because in that prayer the soul would fain neither stir 
nor move and is rejoicing in that holy repose which belongs to 
Mary, while in this prayer it can also be a Martha. Thus the 
soul is, as it were, occupied in the active and in the contemplative 
life at one and the same time : it is doing works of charity and 
also the business pertaining to its mode of life, as well as busying 
itself with reading. Those in this state, however, are not wholly 
masters of themselves and they know very well that the better 
part of the soul is elsewhere. It is as if we were speaking to one 
person while someone else was speaking to us: we cannot be 
wholly absorbed in either the one conversation or the other. 

This is a thing which can be very clearly apprehended, and 
which, when experienced, gives great satisfaction and pleasure; 
it is also a most effective preparation for attainment to a very 
restful state of quiet, since it gives the soul a period of solitude or 
freedom from its business. It works in this way. A person may 
have so far satisfied his appetite that he has no need to eat; Ee 
feels quite well fed and would not look at ordinary food; yet he 
is not so replete that, if he sees something nice, he will not be 
glad to eat some of it. Just so here : the soul in this state is not 
satisfied by the pleasures of the world and has no desire for them 
because it has within it that which satisfies it more: greater joys 
in God and desires to satisfy its desire, to have greater fruition 
and to be with Him that is what the soul $eeks. 

There is another kind of union, which, though not complete 
union, is more nearly so than the one which I have just described. 



XVII] LIFE 103 

but not so much, so as the one which has been referred to in speak- 
ing of this third water. Your Reverence will be very glad, if 
the Lord grants them all to you (assuming that you do not possess 
them already), to have a written description of them and thus 
to be able to understand their nature. For it is one favour that 
the Lord should grant this favour; but quite another to understand 
what favour and what grace it is; and still another to be able 
to describe and explain it. And although only the first of these 
favours seems necessary for the soul to be able to proceed without 
confusion and fear and to walk in the way of the Lord with the 
greater courage, trampling underfoot all the things of the world, 
it is a great benefit and favour to understand it, and it is right that 
everyone who can do so, as well as everyone who cannot, should 
praise the Lord because His Majesty has granted it to a few 
people who are alive so that we may reap advantage from it. 
Now frequently this kind of union which I wish to describe comes 
about as follows (and this is specially true of myself, for God very 
often grants me this favour in this way). God constrains the will, 
and also, I think, the understanding, as it does not reason but 
occupies itself in the fruition of God, like one who, as he looks, 
sees so much that he does not know where to look next: as he 
sees one thing he loses sight of another so that he can give no 
description of anything. The memory remains free both it and 
the imagination must be so and when they find themselves 
alone one would never believe what a turmoil they make and 
how they try to upset everything. Personally, I get fatigued by 
it and I hate it, and often I beseech the Lord, if He must upset me 
so much, to let me be free from it at times like these. "My God," 
I say to Him sometimes, "when shall my soul be wholly employed 
in Thy praise, instead of being torn to pieces in this way, and 
quite helpless?" This makes ^me realize what harm is done to 
us by sin, which has bound us in this way so that we cannot do 
as we would namely, be always occupied in God. 

As I say, it happens at times to-day has been one of them, 
so I have it clearly in mind that I find my soul is becoming 
unwrought, because it wants to be wholly where the greater part 
of it is, yet it knows this to be impossible. Memory and imagina- 
tion make such turmoil within it that they leave it helpless; 
and the other faculties, not being free, are unable to do anything, 
even harm. They do the soul extreme harm, of course, by dis- 
turbing it; but, when I say "unable to do harm", I mean that 
they have no strength and cannot concentrate. The under- 
standing gives the soul no help whatever by what it presents to 
the imagination; it rests nowhere, but goes from one thing to 
another, like nothing so much as those restless, importunate 



[04 LIFE [CHAP. 

ittle moths that fly by night: just so the understanding flies from 
me extreme to another. This comparison, I think, is extremely 
ipt; for though the understanding has not the strength to do any 
larm, it importunes those who observe it. I do not know what 
-emedy there is for this, for so far God has not revealed one to me. 
[f He had, I would very willingly make use of it, for, as I say, I 
am often tormented in this way. Here we have a picture of our 
Dwn wretchedness and a very clear one of God's great power; 
the faculty which remains free causes us all this fatigue and harm, 
whereas the others, which are with His Majesty, bring us rest. 

The remedy which I finally discovered, after having caused 
myself much fatigue for many years, is the one I spoke of when 
describing the Prayer of Quiet: the soul must take no more notice 
of the will than it would of a madman, but leave it to its work, 
for God alone can set it free. In this state, in short, it is a slave. 
We must bear patiently with it as Jacob bore with Lia, for the 
Lord is showing us an exceeding great mercy if He allows us to 
enjoy Rachel. I say that it is a slave because, after all, however 
much it may try, it cannot attract to itself the other faculties ; 
on the contrary, they often compel it to come to them and it 
does so without the smallest effort. Sometimes, seeing it so con- 
fused and restless because of its desire to be with the other 
faculties, God is pleased to have pity on it, and His Majesty allows 
it to burn in the fire of that Divine candle, which Has already 
deprived the others of their natural form and reduced them to 
ashes : so great are the blessings they are enjoying that they have 
become almost supernatural. 

In all these types of prayer which I have described in speaking 
of this last-mentioned kind of water, which comes from a spring, 
the glory and the repose of the soul are so great that the body 
shares in the soul's joy and delight, and this to a most marked extent, 
and the virtues are very highly developed in it, as I have said. 
It seems that the Lord has been pleased to describe these states 
in which the soul finds itself, and to do so as clearly, I believe, 
as in this life is possible. Your Reverence should discuss the 
matter with some spiritual person, who has himself reached this 
state and is a man of learning. If he tells you that it is all right, 
you may take his assurance as coming from God and be grateful 
for it to His Majesty. For, in due time, as I have said, you will 
rejoice greatly at having understood the nature of this, until 
He gives you grace to understand it fully, just as He is giving you 
grace to enjoy it. As His Majesty has granted you the first grace, 
you, with all your intellect and learning, will come to understand 
it as well. May He be praised for all things, for ever and ever. 
Amen. 



XVIII] LIFE 105 



CHAPTER XVIII 

Treats of the fourth degree of prayer. Begins to describe in an excellent 
way*- the great dignity conferred by the Lord upon the soul in this 
state. This chapter is meant for the great encouragement of those who 
practise prayer to the end that thy may strive to reach this lofty state, 
which it is possible to attain on earth, though not through our merits 
but by the Lord's goodness. Let it be read with attention, for its 
exposition is most subtle and it contains most noteworthy things.* 

May the Lord teach me words in which to say something about 
the fourth water. His help is very necessary, even more so than 
it was for describing the last water, for in that state the soul still 
feels that it is not completely dead and we may use this word 
in speaking of it, since it is dead to the world. As I said, it retains 
sufficient sense to realize that it is in the world and to be conscious 
of its loneliness, and it makes use of exterior things for the expres- 
sion of its feelings, even if this is only possible by signs. In the 
whple of the prayer already described, and in each of its stages, 
the gardener is responsible for part of the labour; although 
in these later stages the labour is accompanied by such bliss and 
consolation that the soul's desire would be never to abandon it: 
the labour is felt to be, not labour at all, but bliss. In this state 
of prayer .to which we have now come, there is no feeling, but only 
rejoicing, unaccompanied by any understanding of the thing 
in which the soul is rejoicing. It realizes that it is rejoicing in 
some good thing, in which are comprised all good things at once, 
but it cannot comprehend this good thing. In this rejoicing all 
the senses are occupied, so that none of them is free or able to 
act in any way, either outwardly or inwardly. Previously, as I 
have said, they were permitted to give some indication of the great 
joy that they feel; but in this state the soul's rejoicing is beyond 
comparison greater, and yet can be much less effectively expressed, 
because there is no power left in the body, neither has the soul 
any power, to communicate its rejoicing. At such a time every- 
thing would be a great hindrance and torment to it and a dis- 
turbance of its rest; so I assert that, if there is union of all the 
faculties, the soul cannot communicate the fact, even if it so 
desires (when actually experiencing it, I mean) : if it can communi- 
cate it, then it is not union. 

1 These four words were crossed out in the manuscript by the author. 
* This sentence was also crossed out by the author. 



io6 LIFE [CHAP. 

The way in which this that we call union comes, and the nature 
of it, I do not know how to explain. It is described in mystical 
theology, but I am unable to use the proper terms, and I cannot 
understand what is meant by "mind" or how this differs from 
"soul" or "spirit". They all seem the same to me, though the 
soul sometimes issues from itself, like a fire that is burning and 
has become wholly flame, and sometimes this fire increases with 
great force. This flame rises very high above the fire, but that 
does not make it a different thing: it is the same flame which 
is in the fire. This, with all your learning, Your Reverences will 
understand : there is nothing more that I can say of it. 

What I do seek to explain is the feelings of the soul when it is 
in this Divine union. It is quite clear what union is two different 
things becoming one. O my Lord, how good Thou art ! Blessed 
be Thou for ever! Let all things praise Thee, my God, Who 
hast so loved us that we can truly say that Thou hast communica- 
tion with souls even in this exile : even if they are good, this is 
great bounty and magnanimity. In a word, my Lord, it is a 
bounty and a magnanimity which are all Thine own, for Thou 
givest according to Thine own nature. O infinite Bounty, how 
magnificent are Thy works! Even one whose understanding 
is not occupied with things of the earth is amazed at being 
unable to understand such truths. Dost Thou, then, grant these 
sovereign favours to souls who have so greatly offended Thee? 
Truly my own understanding is overwhelmed by this, and when I 
begin to think about it I can make no progress. What progress, 
indeed, is there to be made which is not a turning back? As for 
giving Thee thanks for such great favours, there is no way of 
doing it, though sometimes I find it a help to utter foolishness. 

When I have just received these mercies, or when God is 
beginning to bestow them on me (for while actually receiving 
them, as I have said, a person has no power to do anything), 
I am often wont to exclaim: "Lord, consider what Thou art 
doing; forget not so quickly the gravity of my evil deeds. Though 
Thou must have forgotten them before Thou couldst forgive me, 
I beseech Thee to remember them in order that Thou mayest 
set a limit to Thy favours. O my Creator, pour not such precious 
liquor into so broken a vessel, for again and again Thou hast 
seen how I have allowed it to run away. Put not such a treasure 
in a place where the yearning for the comforts of this life has not 
yet disappeared as it should, or it will be completely wasted. How 
canst Thou entrust this fortified city and the keys of its citadel 
to so cowardly a defender, who at the enemy's first onslaught 
allows him to enter? Let not Thy love, eternal King, be so great 
as to imperil such precious jewels. For it seems, my Lord, that 



XVIII] LIFE 107 

men have an excuse for despising them if Thou bestowest them 
upon a creature so wretched, so base, so weak, so miserable and 
so worthless, who, though she may strive not to lose them, by 
Thy help (of which I have no small need, being what I am), 
cannot make use of them to bring profit to any. I am, in short, a 
woman, and not even a good one, but wicked. 

"When talents are placed in earth as vile as this they seem to 
be not only hidden but buried. It is not Thy wont, Lord, to do 
such great things for a soul and to bestow such favours upon it 
save that it may profit many others. Thou knowest, my God, 
that I beseech this of Thee with all my heart and will, and that I 
have oftentimes besought it of Thee, and that I count it a blessing 
to lose the greatest blessing which may be possessed upon earth, 
if Thou wilt bestow thy favours upon one who will derive greater 
profit from this blessing, to the increase of Thy glory." It has 
come to pass many times that I have said these things and others 
like them. And afterwards I have become conscious of my 
foolishness and want of humility; for the Lord well knows what 
is fitting for me and that my soul would have no power to 
attain salvation did not His Majesty bestow it on me with 
these great favours. 

I propose also to speak of the graces and effects which remain 
in the soul, and of what it can do by itself, if it can do anything, 
towards reaching a state of such sublimity. 

This elevation of the spirit, or union, is wont to come with 
heavenly love; but, as I understand it, the union itself is a 
different thing from the elevation which takes place in this same 
union. Anyone who has not had experience of the latter will 
think it is not so; but my own view is that, even though they 
may both be the same, the Lord works differently in them, 
so that the soul's growth in detachment from creatures is 
much greater in the flight of the spirit. It has become quite clear 
to me that this is a special grace, though, as I say, both may be, 
or may appear to be, the same; a small fire is as much fire as 
is a large one and yet the difference between the two is evident. 
In a small fire, a long time elapses before a small piece of iron 
can become red-hot; but if the fire be a large one, the piece of 
iron, though it may also be larger, seems to lose, all its properties 
very quickly. So it is, I think; with these two kinds of favour 
from the Lord. Anyone who has attained to raptures will, I 
know, understand it well* If he has not experienced it, it will 
seem ridiculous to him, as well it may be : for a person like myself 
to speaj: of such a thing and to make any attempt to explain 
a matter which cannot even begin to be described in words may 
very well be ridiculous. 



io8 LIFE [CHAP. 

But I believe that the Lord will help me in this, since His 
Majesty knows that, next to doing what I am bidden, my chief 
aim is to cause souls to covet so sublime a blessing. I shall say 
nothing of which I have not myself had abundant experience. 
The fact is, when I began to write about this fourth water, it 
seemed to me more impossible to say anything about it than to 
talk Greek and indeed it is a most difficult matter. So I laid it 
aside and went to Communion. Blessed be the Lord, Who thus 
helps the ignorant! O virtue of obedience, that canst do all 
things! God enlightened my understanding, sometimes giving 
me words and sometimes showing me how I was to use them, 
for, as in dealing with the last kind of prayer, His Majesty seems 
to be pleased to say what I have neither the power nor the learn- 
ing to express. What I am saying is the whole truth; and thus, 
if I say anything good, the teaching comes from Him, while 
what is bad, of course, comes from that se^ of evil myself. 
And so I say, if there are any persons (and there must be many) 
who have attained to the experiences in prayer which the Lord 
has granted to this miserable woman, and who think that they 
have strayed from the path and wish to discuss these matters 
with me, the Lord will help His servant to present His truth. 

Speaking now of this rain which comes from Heaven to fill 
and saturate the whole of this garden with an abundance of 
water, we can see how much rest the gardener would be able to 
have if the Lord never ceased to send it whenever it was necessary. 
And if there were no winter, but eternal warm weather, there 
would never be a dearth of flowers and fruit and we can imagine 
how delighted he would be. But during this life, that is impossible, 
and, when one kind of water fails, we must always be thinking 
about obtaining another. This rain from Heaven often comes 
when the gardener is least expecting it. Yet it is true that at first 
it almost always comes after long mental prayer: as one degree 
of prayer succeeds another, the Lord takes this little bird and puts 
it into the nest where it may repose. Having watched it flying 
for a long time, staving with mind and will and all its strength 
to seek and please God, it becomes His pleasure, while it is still 
in this life, to give it its reward. And what a great reward that is ! 
For even a moment of it suffices to recompense the soul for all 
the trials that it can possibly have endured. 

While seeking God in this way, the soul becomes conscious that 
it is fainting almost completely away, in a kind of swoon, with an 
exceeding great and sweet delight. It gradually ceases to breathe 
and all its bodily strength begins to fail it: it cannot even move 
its hands without great pain; its eyes involuntarily close, or, if 
they remain open, they can hardly see. If a person in this state 



XVIII] LIFE 109 

attempts to read, he is unable to spell out a single letter: it is as 
much as he can do to recognize one. He sees that letters are there, 
but, as the understanding gives him no help, he cannot read them 
even if he so wishes. He can hear, but he cannot understand what 
he hears. He can apprehend nothing with the senses, which only 
hinder his soul's joy and thus harm rather than help him. It is 
futile for him to attempt to speak: his mind cannot manage to 
form a single word, nor, if it could, would he have the strength 
to pronounce it. For in this condition all outward strength 
vanishes, while the strength of the soul increases so that it may the 
better have fruition of its bliss. The outward joy experienced 
is great and most clearly recognized. 

This prayer, for however long it may last, does no harm; 
at least, it has never done any to me, nor do I ever remember 
feeling any ill effects after the Lord has granted me this favour, 
however unwell I may have been: indeed, I am generally much 
the better for it. What harm can possibly be done by so great a 
blessing? The outward effects are. so noteworthy that there can 
be no doubt some great thing has taken place: we experience 
a loss of strength but the experience 'is one of such delight that 
afterwards our strength grows greater. 

It is true that at first this happens in such a short space of time 
so, at least, it was with me that because of its rapidity it can be 
detected neither by these outward signs nor by the failure of the 
senses. But the exceeding abundance of the favours granted to 
the soul clearly indicates how bright has been the sun that has 
shone upon it and has thus caused the soul to melt away. And 
let it be observed that, in my opinion, whatever may be the length 
of the period during which all the faculties of the soul are in this 
state of suspension, it is a very short one: if it were to last for half 
an hour, that would be a long time I do not think it has ever 
lasted so long as that with me. As the soul is not conscious of it, 
its duration is really very difficult to estimate, so I will merely 
say that it is never very long before one of the faculties becomes 
active again. It is the will that maintains the contact with God 1 
but the other two faculties soon begin to importune it once more. 
The will, however, is calm, so they become suspended once again ; 
but eventually, after another short period of suspension, they 
come back to life. 

1 [Lit.: "Maintains the web." This curious phrase will be familiar to readers of 
St. John of the Gross ("Break the web of this sweet encounter": Living Flame of Love, 
Stanza I) : cf . St. John of the Cross, III, 34-40, where the phrase is commented upon 
by its author. Here I think the reference is not to the web, or thread, of human life, 
but to that of Connnunion with God. Changing the metaphor, one might render: 
"It is the will that is the soul's stanchion." In the text, however, I have used a phrase 
which better suits the context.] 



no LIFE [CHAP. 

With all this happening, the time spent in prayer may last, 
and does last, for some hours; for, once the two faculties have 
begun to grow inebriated with the taste of this Divine wine, 
they are very ready to lose themselves in order to gain the more, 
and so they keep company with the will and all three rejoice 
together. But this state in which they are completely lost, and 
have no power of imagining anything for the imagination, I 
believe, is also completely lost is, as I say, of brief duration, 
although the faculties do not recover to such an extent as not 
to be for some hours, as it were, in disorder, God, from time to 
time, gathering them once more to Himself. 

Let us now come to the most intimate part of what the soul 
experiences in this condition. The persons who must speak 
of it are those who know it, for it cannot be understood, still less 
described. As I was about to write of this (I had just communi- 
cated and had been experiencing this very prayer of which I am 
writing), I was wondering what it is the soul does during that 
time, when the Lord said these words to me: "It dies to itself 
wholly, 1 daughter, in order that it may fix itself more and more 
upon Me; it is no longer itself that lives, but I. As it cannot 
comprehend what it understands, it is an understanding which 
understands not." One who has experienced this will under- 
stand something of it; it cannot be more clearly expressed, 
since all that comes to pass in this state is so obscure. I can only 
say that the soul feels close to God and that there abides within 
it such a certainty that it cannot possibly do other' than believe. 
All the faculties now fail and are suspended in such a way that, 
as I have said, it is impossible to believe they are active. If the 
soul has been meditating upon any subject, 2 this vanishes from 
its memory as if it had never thought of it." If it has been reading, 
it is unable to concentrate upon what it was reading or to remem- 
ber it; and the same is true if it has been praying. So it is that 
this importunate little butterfly the memory is now burning 
its wings and can no longer fly. The will must be fully occupied 
in loving, but it cannot understand how it loves; the under- 
standing, if it understands, does not understand how, it 
understands, or at least can comprehend nothing of what 
it understands. It does not seem to me to be understanding, 
because, as I say, it does not understand itself. Nor can I my- 
self understand this. 

There was one thing of which at first I was ignorant: I did not 

1 [The Spanish is dcshdcesei this verb, often used by St. Teresa, is the contrary of 
la&r, to do, and can generally be rendered "be consumed", "be destroyed" : "be 
anmHlated".] 

2 [Paw: incident, occurrence here, no doubt, referring to some scene in the 
Gospels.] 



XVIII] LIFE in 

know that God was in all things., and, when He seemed to me to be 
so very present, I thought it impossible. I could not cease believ- 
ing that He was there, for it seemed almost certain that I had 
been conscious of His very presence. Unlearned persons would 
tell me that He was there only by grace; but I could not believe 
that, for, as I say, He seemed to me to be really present; 
and so I continued to be greatly distressed. From this doubt I 
was freed by a very learned man of the Order of the glorious 
Saint Dominic 1 : he told me that He was indeed present and 
described how He communicated Himself to us, which brought 
me very great comfort. It is to be noted and understood that 
this water from Heaven, this greatest of the Lord's favours, 
leaves the greatest benefits in the soul, as I shall now explain. 



CHAPTER XIX 

Continues the same subject* Begins to describe the ejects produced in the 
soul by this degree of prayer. Exhorts souls earnestly not to turn 
back, even if after receiving this favour they should fall, and not to 
give up prayer. Describes the harm that will ensue if they do not 
follow this counsel. This chapter is to be read very carefully and 
will be of great comfort to the weak and to sinners. 

The soul that has experienced this prayer and this union is left 
with a very great tenderness, of such a kind that it would gladly 
become consumed, 2 not with pain but in tears of joy. It finds 
itself bathed in these tears without having been conscious of them 
or knowing when or how it shed them* But it derives great joy 
from seeing the vehemence of the fire assuaged by water which 
makes it burn the more. This sounds like nonsense but none the 
less it is what happens. Sometimes, when I have reached the end 
of this prayer, I have been so completely beside myself that I 
have not known whether it has been a dream or whether the bliss 
that I have been experiencing has really come to me; and I 
have only known that it has not been e dream through finding 
myself bathed in tears, which have been flowing without causing 
me any distress and with such vehemence and rapidity that it 
has been as if they had fallen from a cloud in heaven. This 
would happen to me in the early stages, when the condition soon 
passed away. 

1 Probably P. Bnez, though P. Gracian and Maria de San Jos6 say that P. Barrdn 
is meant. 

2 [Deshaeerse. Gf. p. no, n. i, above.] 



ii2 LIFE [CHAP. 

The soul is left so full of courage that it would be greatly 
comforted if at that moment, for God's sake, it could be hacked 
to pieces. It is then that it makes heroic resolutions and promises, 
that its desires become full of vigour, that it begins to abhor the 
world and that it develops the clearest realization of its own 
vanity. The benefits that it receives are more numerous and 
sublime than any which proceed from the previous states of prayer ; 
and its humility is also greater, for it clearly sees how by no 
efforts of its own it could either gam or keep so exceeding and so 
great a favour. It also sees clearly how extremely unworthy it is 
for in a room bathed in sunlight not a cobweb can remain hidden. 
It sees its own wretchedness. So far is vainglory from it that 
it cannot believe it could ever be guilty of such a thing. For 
now it sees with its own eyes that of itself it can do little or 
nothing, and that it hardly even gave its consent to what has 
happened to it, but that, against its own will, the door seemed to 
be closed upon all the senses so that it might have the greater 
fruition of the Lord. It is alone with Him: what is there for it 
to do but to love Him? It can neither see nor hear save by making 
a great effort and it can take little credit for that. Then its past 
life comes up before it and all the truth of God's great mercy 
is revealed. The understanding has no need to go out hunting; 
for its food is already prepared. The soul realizes that it has 
deserved to go to hell, yet its punishment is to taste glory. It 
becomes consumed 1 in praises of God as I would fain become now. 
Blessed be Thou, my Lord, Who from such filthy slime as I 
dost draw water so pure as to be meet for Thy table! Praised 
be Thou, O Joy of the angels, Who art thus pleased to raise up a 
worm so vile! 

The benefits thus achieved remain in the soul for some time; 
having now a clear realization that the fruits of this prayer are 
not its own, it can start to share them and yet have no lack of 
them itself. It begins to show signs of being a soul that is guarding 
the treasures of Heaven and to be desirous of sharing them with 
others and to beseech God that it may not be alone in its riches. 
Almost without knowing it, and doing nothing consciously to 
that end, it begins to benefit its neighbours, and they become 
aware of this benefit because the flowers have aow so powerful 
a fragrance as to make them desire to approach them. They 
realize that the soul has virtues, and, seeing how desirable the 
fruit is, would fain help it to partake of it. If the ground is well 
dug over by trials, persecutions, back-bitings and infirmities 
(for few can attain such a state without these), and if it is broken 
up by detachment from self-interest, the water will sink in so far 

1 [Dcshacerse.'] 



XIX] LIFE 113 

that it will hardly ever grow dry again. But if it is just earth in 
the virgin state and as full of thorns as I was at first; if it is not 
yet free from occasions of sin and not so grateful as it should be 
after receiving such great favours : then it will once again become 
dry. If the gardener becomes careless, and the Lord is not pleased, 
out of His sheer goodness, to send rain upon it afresh, then you can 
set down the garden as ruined. This happened to me several 
times and I am really amazed at it: if I had not had personal 
experience of it, I could not believe it. I write this for the con- 
solation of weak souls like myself, so that they may never despair 
or cease to trust in God's greatness. Even if, after reaching so 
high a point as this to which the Lord has brought them, they 
should fall, they must not be discouraged if they would not be 
utterly lost. For tears achieve everything: one kind of water 
attracts another. 

This is one of the reasons why, though being what I am, 
I was encouraged to obey my superiors by writing this and giving 
an account of my wretched life and of the favours which the Lord 
has granted me, albeit I have not served Him but offended Him. 
I only wish I were a person of great authority so that my words 
might be believed: I beseech the Lord that His Majesty may be 
pleased to grant me this. I repeat that no one who has begun 
to practise prayer should be discouraged and say: "If I am going 
to fall again, it will be better for me not to go on practising prayer." 
I think it will be if such a person gives up prayer and does not 
amend his evil life; but, if he does not give it up, he may have 
confidence that prayer will bring him into the haven of light. 
This was a matter about which the devil kept plaguing me, and I 
suffered so much through thinking myself lacking in humility 
for continuing prayer, when I was so wicked, that, as I have said, 
for a year and a half I gave it up or at any rate for a year: I 
am not quite sure about the six months. This would have been 
nothing less than plunging into hell nor was it: there was no 
need for^ any devils to send me there. Oh, God help me, how 
terribly blind I was ! How well the devil succeeds in his purpose 
when he pursues us like this! The deceiver knows that if a soul 
perseveres in practising prayer it will be lost to him, and that, by 
the goodness of God, all the relapses into which he can lead it 
will only help it to make greater strides onward in His service. 
And this is a matter of some concern to the devil. 

O my Jesus! What a sight it is to see a soul which has attained 
as far as this, and has fallen into sin, when Thou of Thy mercy 
stretchest forth Thy hand to it again and raisest it up! How 
conscious it becomes of the multitude of Thy wonders and 
mercies, and of its own wretchedness 1 Now indeed is it consumed 



ii4 LIFE [CHAP. 

with shame when it acknowledges Thy wonders. Now it dares 
not raise its eyes. Now it raises them only to acknowledge what 
it owes Thee. Now it devoutly beseeches the Queen of Heaven 
to propitiate Thee. Now it invokes the saints, who likewise fell 
after Thou hadst called them, that they may aid it. Now it feels 
all Thou givest it to be bounty indeed, for it knows itself to be un- 
worthy even of the ground it treads upon. It has recourse to the 
Sacraments and a lively faith is implanted in it when it sees 
what virtues God has placed in them; it praises Thee for having 
left us such medicine and such ointment for our wounds, which, 
far from healing them superficially, eradicate them altogether. 
At this it is amazed and who, Lord of my soul, can be other 
than amazed at mercy so great and favour so immense, at treason 
so foul and abominable? I cannot think why my heart does not 
break when I write this, wicked that I am. 

With these few tears that I am here shedding, which are Thy 
gift (water, in so far as it comes from me, drawn from a well so 
impure), I seem to be making Thee payment for all my acts of 
treachery for the evil that I have so continually wrought and 
for the attempts that I have made to blot out the favours Thou 
hast granted me. Do Thou, my Lord, make my tears of some 
efficacy. Purify this turbid stream, if only that I may not lead 
others to be tempted to judge me, as I have been tempted to 
judge others myself. For I used to wonder, Lord, why Thou 
didst pass by persons who were most holy, who had been piously 
brought up, who had always served Thee and laboured for Thee 
and who were truly religious and not, like myself, religious only 
in name: I could not see why Thou didst not show them the same 
favours as Thoji showedst to me. And then, O my Good, it became 
clear to me that Thou art keeping their reward to give them all 
at once that my weakness needs the help Thou bestowest on 
me, whereas they, being strong, can serve Thee without it, and 
that therefore Thou dost treat them as brave souls and as souls 
devoid of self-seeking. 

But nevertheless Thou knowest, my Lord, that I would often 
cry out unto Thee, and make excuses for those who spoke ill of 
me, for I thought they had ample reason for doing so. This, 
Lord, was after Thou of Thy goodness hadst kept me from so 
greatly offending Thee and when I was turning aside from 
everything which I thought could cause Thee displeasure; and 
as I did this, Lord, Thou didst begin to open Thy treasures for 
Thy servant. It seemed that Thou weft waiting for nothing else 
than that I should be willing and ready to receive them, and so, 
after a short time, Thou didst begin, not only to give them, but to 
be pleased that others should know Thou wert giving them, to me. 



XIX] LIFE 115 

When this became known, people began to have a good 
opinion of one of whose great wickedness all were not fully aware, 
though much of it was clearly perceptible. Then suddenly began 
evil-speaking and persecution, and I think with great justification, 
so I conceived enmity for none, but besought Thee to consider 
how far they were justified. They said that I wanted to become 
a saint, and that I was inventing new-fangled practices, though 
in many respects I had not even achieved the full observance 
of my Rule, nor had I attained to the goodness and sanctity 
of nuns in my own house, and indeed I do not believe that I 
ever shall unless God brings this about of His own goodness. 
On the contrary, I was well on the way to giving up things that 
were good and adopting habits that were not so : at least I was 
adopting them to the best of my ability and I had a great deal of 
ability for doing wrong. So these people were not to blame 
when they blamed me. I do not mean only the nuns, but other 
people: they revealed things about me that were true because 
Thou didst permit it. 

Once when, after having been tempted in this way for some 
time, I was reciting the Hours, I came to the verse which says: 
"Justus es, D offline, and Thy judgments. . . - 5 ' 1 I began to think 
how very true this was ; for the devil was never powerful enough 
to tempt me sufficiently to make me doubt that Thou, my Lord, 
hast all good things, or any other truth of the Faith; indeed, it 
seemed to me that the less of a natural foundation these 
truths had, the more firmly I held them and the greater was the 
devotion they inspired in me. Since Thou art almighty, I 
accepted all the wondrous works which Thou hadst done as 
most certain; and in this respect, as I say, I never harboured a 
doubt. While I was wondering how in Thy justice Thou couldst 
ordain that so many of Thy faithful handmaidens, as I have said, 
should not be given the graces and favours which Thou didst 
bestow on me, being such as I was, Thou didst answer me, Lord, 
saying " Serve thou Me, and meddle not with this ". This was the 
first word which I ever heard Thee speak to me and so it made 
me very much afraid; but, as I shall describe this method of 
hearing later, together with certain other things, I will say 
nothing abouj it here, for that would be to digress from my 
purpose and I think I have digressed quite sufficiently as it is. 
I hardly know what I have said. It cannot be otherwise, and 

1 Psalm cxviii, 137 [A.V., cxix.j 137]. The Latin text is: " Justus es, Domme, et 
rectum judicium tuum." The remainder of the verse no doubt escaped the Saint's 
memory. [The Latin opening she would remember, because it comes at the beginning 
of one of the divisions of the psalm. This is an interesting illustration of her indiffer- 
ence to precision in her work. Even a hasty revision would have revealed the 
omission of the latter part of the verse, it is strange that P. Binez did not supply it.] 



n6 LIFE [CHAP. 

Your Reverence must suffer these lapses; for, when I consider 
what God has borne with from me, and find myself in my present 
state, it is not surprising if I lose the thread of what I am saying 
and of what I still have to say. May it please the Lord that any 
foolishness I talk shall be of this kind and may His Majesty never 
allow me to have the power to resist Him in the smallest degree; 
rather than that, let Him consume me, just as I am, at this very 
moment. 

, It suffices as an illustration of His great mercies that He should 
have forgiven such ingratitude as mine, and this not once but 
many times. He forgave Saint Peter once ; but me He has forgiven 
often. Good reason had the devil for tempting me, telling me 
not to aspire to a close friendship with One for Whom I was so 
publicly showing my enmity. How terribly blind I was ! Where, 
my Lord, did I think I could find help save in Thee? What 
foolishness to flee from the light and to walk on all the time 
stumbling! What a proud humility did the devil find in me when 
I ceased to make use of the pillar and the staff whose support I 
so greatly need lest I should suffer a great fall ! As I write I make 
the sign of the Cross : I do not believe I have ever passed through 
so grave a peril as when the devil put this idea into my head 
under the guise of humility. How, he asked me, could one who, 
after receiving such great favours, was still as wicked as I, 
approach God in prayer? It was enough for me, he would go on, 
to recite the prayers enjoined upon me, as all the nuns did, but 
I did not even do this properly: why, then, should I want to do 
more? It was showing small respect and indeed contempt for 
the favours of God. I was right to think about this and to try to 
realize it, but extremely wrong to put my thoughts into practice. 
Blessed be Thou, Lord, Who didst thus succour me ! 

This seems to me to be the principle on which the devil tempted 
Judas, except that he dared not tempt me so openly: none the less, 
he would gradually have brought me to the same fate. For the 
love of God, let all who practise prayer consider this. Let them 
be told that by far the worst life I ever led was when I abandoned 
prayer. Let them consider with what a fine remedy the devil 
provided me and with what a pretty humility he inspired me. 
It caused me a great deaL of inward unrest. And how could my 
soul find any rest? Miserable creature that it was, it went 
farther and farther away from its rest. I was very conscious of 
the favours and graces I had received from Thee; for the pleasures 
of earth I felt a loathing : I am amazed that I was able to endure 
it all. Only hope enabled me to do SQ, for, as far as I can remem- 
ber (and it must have been more than twenty-one years ago), 
I never swerved from my resolution to return to prayers I was 



XIX] LIFE 117 

only waiting until I should be quite free from sins, Oh, how far 
this hope led me astray! 

The devil would have encouraged me in it until the Day 
of Judgment, so that he might then carry me off to helL 
But, though I had recourse to prayer and reading, and these 
revealed truths to me and showed me along what a disastrous 
road I was walking, and though I importuned the Lord, often 
with tears, I was so wicked that all this could avail me nothing. 
When I abandoned these practices, and gave myself up to pastimes 
which led me into many occasions of sin and helped me but little 
I will even venture to say that the only thing they helped me 
to do was to fall what could I expect but what I have already 
mentioned? I think much credit in the sight of God is due to a 
friar of the Order of Saint Dominic, 1 a very learned man, for it 
was he who awakened me from this sleep; it was he who, as I 
think I said, made me communicate once a fortnight, and do less 
that was wrong. I began to return to my senses, though I did 
not cease to offend the Lord, but, as I had not lost my way, I 
continued upon it, first falling and then rising again, and making 
very little progress; still, he who never ceases walking, and 
advances all the time, may reach his goal late, but does reach it 
all the same. To lose one's way seems to be the same thing as 
giving up prayer. May God, for His name's sake, deliver us 
from doing so. 

From this it is evident (and for the love of the Lord let it be 
carefully noted) that, even if a soul should attain the point of 
receiving great favours from God in prayer, it must put no trust 
in itself, since it is prone to fall, nor must it expose itself to occasions 
of sin in any way whatsoever. This should be carefully considered, 
for it is most important: even though a favour may undoubtedly 
have come from God, the devil will later be able to practise a 
deception upon us by treacherously making such use as he can 
of that very favour against persons who are not strong in the 
virtues, or detached, or mortified; for such persons, as I shall 
explain later, are not sufficiently strengthened to expose themselves 
to occasions of sin and other perils, however sincere may be their 
desires and resolutions. This is excellent doctrine, and it is not 
mine, but has been taught me by God, and so I should like 
people as ignorant as I am to know it. Even if a soul should 
be in this state, it must not trust itself so far as to sally forth to 
battle: it will have quite enough to do to defend itself. Arms are 
needed here for defence against devils : the soul is not yet strong 
enough to fight against them and to trample them under its 
feet as do those in the state which I shall describe later. 

1 P. Barr6n. 



ii8 LIFE [CHAP. 

This is the deception by which the devil wins his prey. When 
a soul finds itself very near to God and sees what a difference 
there is between the good things of Heaven and those of earth, 
and what love the Lord is showing it, there is born of this love a 
confidence and security that there will be no falling away from 
what it is now enjoying. It seems to have a clear vision of the 
reward and believes that it cannot now possibly leave something 
which even in this life is so sweet and delectable for anything as 
base and soiled as earthly pleasure. Because it has this confidence, 
the devil is able to deprive it of the misgivings which it ought to 
have about itself; and, as I say, it runs into many dangers, and 
in its zeal begins to give away its fruit without stint, thinking 
that it has now nothing to fear. This condition is not a concomit- 
ant of pride, for the soul clearly understands that of itself it can 
do nothing; it is the result of its extreme confidence in God, which 
knows no discretion. The soul does not realize that it is like a 
bird still unfledged. It is able to come out of the nest, and God 
is taking it out, but it is not yet ready to fly, for its virtues are not 
yet strong and it has no experience which will warn it of dangers, 
nor is it aware of the harm done by self-confidence. 

It was this that ruined me; and, both because of this and for 
other reasons, the soul has great need of a director and of inter- 
course with spiritual people. I fully believe that, unless a soul 
brought to this state by God completely abandons Him, His 
Majesty will not cease to help it nor will He allow it to be lost. 
But when, as I have said, the soul falls, let it look to it for the 
love of the Lord, let it look to it lest the devil trick it into 
abandoning prayer, in the way he tricked me, by inspiring it 
with a false humility, as I have said, and as I should like to repeat 
often. Let it trust in the goodness of God, which is greater than 
all the evil we can do. When, with full knowledge of ourselves, 
we desire to return to friendship with Him, He remembers 
neither our ingratitude nor our misuse of the favours that He 
has granted us. He might well chastise us for these sins, but in 
fact He makes use of them only to forgive us the more readily, 
just as He would forgive those who have been members of His 
household, and who, as they say, have eaten of His bread. Let 
them remember His words and consider what He has done to 
me, who wearied of offending His Majesty before He ceased 
forgiving me. Never does He weary of giving and never can 
His mercies be exhausted : let us, then, not grow weary of receiving. 
May He be blessed for ever, Amen, and may all things praise 
Him. 



XX] LIFE 119 



CHAPTER XX 

Treats of the difference between union and rapture. Describes the nature 
of rapture and says something of the blessing that comes to the soul 
which the Lord, of His goodness, brings to it. Describes the effects 
which it produces. This chapter is particularly admirable. 

I should like, with the help of God, to be able to describe the 
difference between union and rapture, or elevation, or what they 
call flight of the spirit, or transport it is all one. I mean that 
these different names all refer to the same thing, which is also 
called ecstasy. It is much more beneficial than union : the effects 
it produces are far more important and it has a great many more 
operations, for union gives the impression of being just the same 
at the beginning, in the middle and at the end, and it all 
happens interiorly. But the ends of these raptures are of a 
higher degree, and the effects they produce are both interior and 
exterior. May the Lord explain this, as He has explained every- 
thing else, for I should certainly know nothing of it if His Majesty 
had not shown me the ways and manners in which it can to some 
extent be described. 

Let us now reflect that this last water which we have described 
is so abundant that, were it not that the ground is incapable 
of receiving it, we might believe this cloud of great Majesty 
to be with us here on this earth. But as we are giving Him 
thanks for this great blessing, and doing our utmost to draw 
near to Him in a practical way, the Lord gathers up the soul, just 
(we might say) as the clouds gather up the vapours from the earth, 
and raises it up till it is right out of itself (I have heard that it is 
in this way that the clouds or the sun gather up the vapours) 1 
and the cloud rises to Heaven and takes the soul with it, and 
begins to reveal to it things concerning the Kingdom that He has 
prepared for it. I do not know if the comparison is an exact one, 
but that is the way it actually happens. 

In these raptures the soul seems no longer to animate the body, 
and thus the natural heat of the body is felt to be very sensibly 
diminished: -it gradually becomes colder, though conscious of 
the greatest sweetness and delight. No means of resistance is 
possible, whereas in union, where we are on our own ground, 
such a means exists: resistance may be painful and violent but 
it can almost always be effected. But with rapture, as a rule, 

1 The bracketed sentence is found in the margin of the autograph in St. Teresa's 
hand. 



120 LIFE [CHAP. 

there is no such possibility: often it comes like a strong, swift 
impulse, before your thought can forewarn you of it or you 
can do anything to help yourself; you see and feel this cloud, or 
this powerful eagle, rising and bearing you up with it on its wings. 

You realize, I repeat, and indeed see, that you are being 
carried away, you know not whither. For, though rapture brings 
us delight, the weakness of our nature at first makes us afraid of 
it, and we need to be resolute and courageous in soul, much 
more so than for what has been described. For, happen what 
may, we must risk everything, and resign ourselves into the hands 
of God and go willingly wherever we are carried away, for we 
are in fact being carried away, whether we like it or no. In such 
straits do I find myself at such a time that very often I should 
be glad to resist, and I exert all my strength to do so, in particular 
at times when it happens in public and at many other times in 
private, when I am afraid that I may be suffering deception. 
Occasionally I have been able to make some resistance, but at 
the cost of great exhaustion, for I, would feel as weary afterwards 
as though I had been fighting with a powerful giant. At other 
times, resistance has been impossible: my soul has been borne 
away, and indeed as a rule my head also, without my being able 
to prevent it: sometimes my whole body has been affected, to 
the point of being raised up from the ground. 

This has happened only rarely; but once, when we were 
together in choir, and I was on my knees and about to communi- 
cate, it caused me the greatest distress. It seemed to me a most 
extraordinary thing and I thought there would be a great deal 
of talk about it; so I ordered the nuns (for it happened after I 
was appointed Prioress) not to speak of it. On other occasions, 
when I have felt that the Lord was going to enrapture me 
(once it happened during a sermon, on our patronal festival, 
when some great ladies were present), 1 1 have lain on the ground 
and the sisters have come and held me down, but none the less 
the rapture has been observed. I besought the Lord earnestly 
not to grant me any more favours which had visible and exterior 
signs; for I was exhausted by having to endure such worries 
and after all (I said) His Majesty could grant me that favour 
without its becoming known. He seems to have been pleased of 
His goodness to hear me, for since making that prayer I have 
never again received any such favours: it is true, however, that 
this happened not long since. 

1 [P. Silyerio says that this happened at St. Joseph's, Avila, *' about the year 1565". 
But, as this book was only completed in 1565, and the incident is referred to in a 
phrase which suggests some lapse of time, his chronology would seem to have little 
meaning. Lewis (p. 162, n. 6) says " 1564 or 1565", which is not much better ] 



XX] LIFE 121 

When I tried to resist these raptures, it seemed that I was being 
lifted up by a force beneath my feet so powerful that I know 
nothing to which 1 can compare it, for it came with a much 
greater vehemence than any other spiritual experience and I 
felt as if I were being ground to powder. It is a terrible struggle, 
and to continue it against the Lord's will avails very little, for 
no power can do anything against His. At other times His 
Majesty is graciously satisfied with our seeing that He desires 
to show us this favour, and that, if we do not receive it, it is not 
due to Himself. Then, if W T C resist it out of humility, the same 
effects follow as if we had given it our entire consent. 

These effects are very striking. One of them is the manifesta- 
tion of the Lord's mighty power: as we are unable to resist His 
Majesty's will, either in soul or in body, and are not our own 
masters, we realize that, however irksome this truth may be, there is 
One stronger than ourselves, and that these favours are bestowed 
by Him, and that we, of ourselves, can do absolutely nothing. 
This imprints in us great humility. Indeed, I confess that in me 
it produced great fear at first a terrible fear. One sees one's 
body being lifted up from the ground; and although the spirit 
draws it after itself, and if no resistance is offered does so very 
gently, one does not lose consciousness at least, I myself have 
had sufficient to enable me to realize that I was being lifted up. 
The majesty of Him Who can do this is manifested in such a 
way that the hair stands on end, and there is produced a great 
fear of offending so great a God, but a fear overpowered by 1 
the deepest love, newly enkindled, for One Who, as we see, has 
so deep a love for so loathsome a worm that He seems not to 
be satisfied by literally drawing the soul to Himself, but will also 
have the body, mortal though it is, and befouled as is its clay by 
all the offences it has committed. 

This favour also leaves a strange detachment, the nature 
of which I cannot possibly describe, but I think I can say it is 
somewhat different from that produced by these purely spiritual 
favours, I mean; for, although these produce a complete detach- 
ment of spirit, in this favour the Lord is pleased that it should 
be shared by the very body and it will thus experience a new 
estrangement from things of earth, which makes life much more 
distressing. Afterwards it produces a distress which we cannot 
ourselves bring about or remove once it has come. I should like 
very much to explain this great distress, but I am afraid I cannot 
possibly do so : still, I will say something about it if I can. 

It is to be observed that these are my most recent experiences, 
more recent than all the visions and revelations of which I shall 

1 [Erwuelto. See p. 34, n. i, above.] 



122 LIFE [CHAP. 

write and than the period during which I practised prayer and 
the Lord granted me such great consolations and favours. Though 
these have not ceased, it is this distress which I shall now describe 
that I more frequently and habitually experience at present. 
Sometimes it is more severe and sometimes less so. It is of its 
maximum severity that I will now speak; for although I shall 
later describe those violent impulses which I used to experience 
when the Lord was pleased to grant me raptures, these, in my 
view, have no more connection with this distress than has an 
entirely physical experience with an entirely spiritual one, and 
in saying that I do not think I am greatly exaggerating. For, 
although the distress I refer to is felt by the soul, it is also felt by 
the body. Both seem to share in it, and it does not cause the same 
extreme sense of abandonment as does this. In producing the 
latter, as I have said, we can take no part, though very often a 
desire unexpectedly arises, in a way which I cannot explain. 
And this desire, which in a single moment penetrates to the very- 
depths of the soul, begins to weary it so much that the soul soars 
upwards, far above itself and above all created things, and God 
causes it to be so completely bereft of everything that, however 
hard it may strive to do so, it can find nothing on earth to bear it 
company. Nor does it desire company; it would rather die 
in its solitude. Others may speak to it, and it may itself make 
every possible effort to speak, but all to no avail; do what it may, 
its spirit cannot escape from that solitude. God seems very far 
from the soul then, yet sometimes He reveals His greatness in 
the strangest way imaginable; this cannot -be described nor, I 
think, believed or understood save by those who have experienced 
it. For it is a communication intended, not to comfort the soul 
but to show it the reason why it is wearied namely, that it is 
so far away from the Good which contains all that is good within 
Itself. 

In this communication the desire grows, and with it the 
extremity of loneliness experienced by the soul with a distress 
so subtle and yet so piercing that, set as it is in that desert, it can, 
I think, say literally, as the Royal Prophet said, when he was in 
the same state of loneliness (except that, being a saint, he may 
have been granted that experience by the Lord in a higher 
degree) : Vigitavi > etfactus sum sicut passer solitarius in tecto^ ' That 
verse comes to my mind at these times in such a way that I feel 
it is fulfilled in myself; and it is a comfort to me to know that 

1 Psalm ci, 8. [A.V. ch. 7] : "I have watched, and am become as a sparrow all alone 
on the housetop." [St. Teresa's spelling of Latin is largely phonetic and always 
quaint It will suffice to reproduce this one example of if VigUavi ed fatus sun sicud 
passer sohtarius yn tecto.' The orthography given in the text is here, and will normally 
be elsewhere, that of the Vulgate.] 



XX] LIFE 123 

others, especially such a prophet as this, have experienced that 
great extremity of loneliness. The soul, then, seems to be, not 
in itself at all, but on the house-top, or the roof, of its own house, 
and raised above all created things; I think it is far above even 
its own very highest part. 

On other occasions the soul seems to be going about in a state 
of the greatest need, and asking itself: "Where is thy God?" 1 
I should point out here that I did not know the meaning of this 
verse in the vernacular, and that later, when I had learned it, 
it was a comfort to me to think that the Lord had brought it to 
my mind without any effort of my own. At other times I used 
to remember some words of Saint Paul, about his being crucified 
to the world. 2 I do not say that this is true of me indeed, I 
know it is not but I think it is true of the soul when no comfort 
comes to it from Heaven, and it is not in Heaven, and when it 
desires no earthly comfort, and is not on earth either, but is, as 
it were, crucified between Heaven and earth; and it suffers 
greatly, for no help comes to it either from the one hand or from 
the other. For the help which comes to it from Heaven is, as I 
have said, a knowledge of God so wonderful, and so far above all 
that we can desire, that it brings with it greater torment; for its 
desire grows in such a way that I believe its great distress some- 
times robs it of consciousness, though such a state as that lasts 
only for a short time. It seems as though it were on the threshold 
of death, save that this suffering brings with it such great happi- 
ness that I know of nothing with which it may be compared. 
It is a martyrdom, severe but also delectable; for the soul will 
accept nothing earthly that may be offered it, even though it 
were the thing which it had been accustomed to 'enjoy most: 
it seems to fling it away immediately. It realizes clearly that it 
wants nothing save its God; but its love is not centred upon any 
particular attribute of Him : its desire is for the whole of God 
and it has no knowledge of what it desires. By "no knowledge", 
I mean that no picture is formed in the imagination; and, in 
my opinion, for a great part of the time during which it is in that 
state, the faculties are inactive: they are suspended by their 
distress, just as in union and rapture they are suspended by joy. 

Jesus ! I wish I could give Your Reverence a clear explana- 
tion of this, if only so that you might tell me what it is, for this is 
the state in which my soul now continually finds itself. As a rule, 
when not occupied, it is plunged into these death-like yearnings, 
and, when I am conscious that they are beginning, I become 
afraid, because they do not mean death. But when I am actually 

1 Psalm xli, 4 [A.V., xlii. 3], 

a Galatians vi. 14: " . . .try whom the world is crucified to me ? and I to the world." 



124 LIFE [CHAP. 

in that condition, I should like to spend the rest of my life suffer- 
ing in that way, although the pain is so excessive that one can 
hardly bear it, and occasionally, according to those of my sisters 
who sometimes see me like this, and so now understand it better, 
my pulses almost cease to beat, my bones are all disjointed, and 
my hands are so stiff that sometimes I cannot clasp them together. 
Until the next day I have pains in the wrists, and in the entire 
body, as though my bones had been wrenched asunder. 

Occasionally I really think that, if things are to go on like 
this, it must be the Lord's will to end them by putting an end to 
my life; for the distress I am in is severe enough to kill me, only 
I do not deserve that it should do so. All my yearning at such a 
time is to die: I do not think of purgatory, or of the great sins I 
have committed, for which I have deserved to go to hell. Such 
is my yearning to see God that I forget everything and the 
deserted and solitary state I am in seems better than all the world's 
companionship. If anything could comfort a person in this 
condition, it would be to speak with another who has passed 
through the same torment, for she finds that, despite her com- 
plaints of it, no one seems to believe her. 

The soul in this state is also tormented because its distress has 
so greatly increased that it no longer desires solitude, as it did 
before, and the only companionship it seeks is with one to whom 
it can voice its complaint. It is like a person who has a rope 
around his neck, is being strangled and is trying to breathe. 
It seems to me, then, that this desire for companionship proceeds 
from human weakness; for, since this distress imperils our life, 
which it most certainly does (as I have said, I have several 
times found my own life imperilled by serious dangers and 
illnesses, and I think I might say that this particular peril is as 
grave as any), the desire that body and soul shall not be parted 
is like a voice crying out for help to breathe; and by speaking of 
it and complaining and distracting itself, the soul seeks a way 
to live quite contrarily to the will of the spirit, or of its own higher 
part, which would prefer not to escape from this distress. 

I do not know if I am correct in what I say, or if I am expressing 
"it properly, but to the best of my belief that is what happens. 
I ask Your Reverence, what rest can I have in this life, since the 
rest which I used to enjoy, and which consisted in prayer and 
solitude, wherein the Lord would comfort me, is habitually turned 
into this torment; and yet it is so delectable, and the soul is so 
conscious of its worth, that it desires it more than all the favours 
which it had been accustomed to enjoy. It believes it, too, to be 
a safer state, because it is the way of the Cross; and in my view 
it comprises a delight of exceeding worth, because the body 



XX] LIFE 125 

gets nothing from it but distress, whereas the soul, even while 
suffering, rejoices alone in the joy and happiness which this 
suffering brings. I do not know how this can be, but so it is; 
and I believe I would not change this favour which the Lord is 
bestowing upon me (for it is certainly entirely supernatural and 
conies from His hand, and, as I have said, is in no way acquired 
by me) for any of the favours which I shall describe later: I do 
not say for all of them at once, but for any one of them taken by 
itself. And it must not be forgotten that this state, in which the 
Lord is now keeping me, has followed all the others described 
in this book: I mean that these violent impulses have followed 
the favours described here as having been bestowed upon me by 
the Lord. 

At first I was afraid, as I almost always am when the Lord 
bestows a favour upon me, though His Majesty reassures me as I 
go on. He told me not to fear but to set greater store by this 
favour than by any other which He had granted me; for by 
this distress the soul was purified, worked upon and refined like 
gold in the crucible, so that He might the betted set in it the enamel 
of His gifts : it was being cleansed now of the impurities of which 
it would need to be cleansed in purgatory. I had already 
quite clearly realized that it was a great favour, but this made me 
much more certain of the fact, and my confessor tells me that all 
is well. And although I was afraid, because I was so wicked, I 
could never believe that it was wrong; it was rather the sub- 
limity of the blessing that made me afraid, when I remembered 
how ill I had deserved it. Blessed be the Lord, Who is so good ! 
Amen. 

I seem to have wandered from my subject, for I began by 
speaking of raptures, but what I have been descnbing is something 
even greater than a rapture and thus it leaves behind it the effects 
I have referred to. 

Let us now return to raptures, and to their most usual character- 
istics. I can testify that after a rapture my body often seemed as 
light as if all weight had left it : sometimes this was so noticeable 
that I could hardly tell when my feet were touching the ground. 
For, while the rapture lasts, the body often remains as if dead 
and unable of itself to do anything: it continues all the time as 
it was when the rapture came upon it in a sitting position, for 
example, or with the hands open or shut. The subject rarely 
loses consciousness : I have sometimes lost it altogether, but only 
seldom and for but a short time. As a rule the consciousness is 
disturbed; and, though incapable of action with respect to out- 
ward things, the subject can still hear and understand, but only 
dimly, as though from a long way off. I do not say that he can 



126 LIFE [CHAP. 

hear and understand when the rapture is at its highest point by 
"highest point" I mean when the faculties are lost through 
being closely united with God. At that point, in my opinion, 
he will neither see, nor hear, nor perceive; but, as I said in 
describing the preceding prayer of union, this complete trans- 
formation of the soul in God lasts but a short time, and it is 
only while it lasts that none of the soul's faculties is able to 
perceive or know what is taking place. We cannot be meant to 
understand it while we are on earth God, in fact, does not wish 
us to understand it because we have not the capacity for doing 
so. I have observed this myself. 

Your Reverence will ask me how it is that the rapture some- 
times lasts for so many hours. What often happens to me is that, 
as I said of the preceding state of prayer, it makes itself felt inter- 
mittently. The soul is often engulfed or, to put it better, the 
Lord engulfs it in Himself and, when He has kept it in this 
state for a short time, He retains the will alone. The movements 
of the other two faculties seem to me like the movement of the 
pointer on a sundial, which is never motionless; though if it 
pleases the Sun of Justice 1 to do so, He can make it stand still. 
What I am describing lasts only a short time; but, as the impulse 
and the uplifting of the spirit have been violent, the will is still 
engulfed even when the other two faculties begin to move again 
and produces that operation in the body as though it were its 
absolute mistress. For, although the two restless faculties try 
to disturb it, the will, thinking that the fewer enemies it has, the 
better, prevents the senses from doing so, and thus causes their 
suspension, which is the Lord's will. For the most part the eyes 
are closed, though we may not wish to close them; if, as I have 
already said, they are occasionally open, the subject neither 
perceives nor pays attention to what he sees. 

There is very little, then, that a person in this condition can 
do, and this means that there will be little for him to do when 
the faculties come together again. Anyone, therefore, to whom the 
Lord grants this favour must not be discouraged-at finding, himself 
in this state, with the body unable to move for hours on end and 
the understanding and the memory sometimes wandering. True, 
they are generally absorbed in the praises of God or in an attempt 
to comprehend and realize what has happened to them. But even 
so they are not wide awake: they are like a person who has been 
asleep for a long time and has been dreaming and has not yet 
fully awakened. 

The reason I am expounding this at such great length is that 
I know that there are persons now, in this very place, to whom 

1 [Malachias iv, 2. A.V: "Sun of Righteousness."] 



XX] LIFE 127 

the Lord is granting these favours; and if those who are directing 
such persons have not themselves experienced them more 
especially if they have no learning they may think that, when 
enraptured, they ought to be as if dead. It is a shame that such 
suffering should be caused by confessors who do not understand 
this, as I shall say later. Perhaps I do not know what I am saying; 
but, if my words are at all to the point, Your Reverence will 
understand it, for the Lord has already given you experience of 
it, though, as this happened only recently, you may not have 
considered the matter as fully as I. The position, then, is that, 
however hard I try, my body, for considerable periods, has not 
the strength to make it capable of movement: all its strength has 
been taken away by the soul. Often a person who was previously 
quite ill and troubled with severe pain finds himself in good health 
again, and even stronger than before, for what the soul receives 
in rapture is a great gift, and sometimes, as I say, the Lord is 
pleased that the body should have a share in it because of its 
obedience to the will of the soul. After the recovery of con- 
sciousness, if the rapture has been deep, the faculties may remain 
absorbed for a day or two, or even for as long as three days, 
and be as if in a state of stupor, so that they seem to be no longer 
themselves. 

And now comes the distress of having to return to this life. 
Now the soul has grown new wings and has learned to fly. Now 
the little bird has lost its unformed feathers. Now in Christ's 
name the standard is raised on high; it would seem that what 
has happened is nothing less than that the captain of the fortress 
has mounted, or has been led up, to the highest of its towers, and 
has reared the standard aloft there in the name of God. From 
his position of security he looks down on those below. No longer 
does he fear perils; rather he desires them, for through them, as 
it were, he receives the assurance of victory. This becomes 
very evident in the little weight now given by the soul to earthly 
matters, which it treats as the worthless things that they are. 
He who is raised on high 1 attains many things. The soul has no 
desire to seek or possess any free-will, even if it so wished, 2 and 
it is for this that it prays to the Lord, giving Ham the keys 
of its will. Behold, our gardener has become the captain of a 
fortress! He wants nothing save the will of the Lord; he wants 
to be neither his own master nor anybody else's; he wants not 

1 [Qiden estd de lo alto ... I give the most obvious translation of this rather unusual 
phrase (lit., "he who is from the height"), but I suspect the omission of mirando: 
He who is looking (down) from on high . . ." the reference being to the soul's 
attitude to the world.] 

8 P. Banez altered this phrase to: "It has no desire to seek or possess any will save 
that of Our Lord," and the change was followed in the edfao princeps. 



128 LIFE [CHAP. 

so much as an apple from this orchard. If there is anything of 
value in it, let His Majesty distribute it; henceforth, for himself, 
he wants nothing, and desires only that everything should be 
done to God's glory and in conformity with His will. 

It is in this way, then, that these things actually happen, 
if the raptures are genuine, in which case there will remain in 
the soul the effects and advantages aforementioned. If they do 
not, I should doubt very much if they are from God; indeed, I 
should fear that they might be the frenzies described by Saint 
Vincent. 1 I know, for I have observed it in my own experience, 
that the soul, while enraptured, is mistress of everything, and 
in a single hour, or in less, acquires such freedom that it cannot 
recognize itself. It sees clearly that this state is in no way due 
to itself, nor does it know who has given it so great a blessing, 
but it distinctly recognizes the very great benefit which each of 
these raptures brings it. Nobody will believe this without having 
had experience of it; and so nobody believes the poor soul, 
knowing it to have been so wicked and seeing it now aspiring 
to such heroic acts; for it is no longer content with serving the 
Lord a little but must do so to the greatest extent in its power. 
They think this is a temptation and a ridiculous thing. If they 
knew that it arises, not from the soul, but from the Lord, to Whom 
the soul has given the keys of its will, they would not be so 
astounded. 

I believe myself that a soul which attains to this state neither 
speaks nor does anything of itself, but that this sovereign King 
takes care of all that it has to do. Oh, my God, how clear is 
the meaning of that verse about asking for the wings of a dove 2 
and how right the author was and how right we shall all be! 
to ask for them! It is evident that he is referring to the flight taken 
by the spirit when it soars high above all created things, and 
above itself first of all; but it is a gentle and a joyful flight and 
also a silent one. 

What power is that of a soul brought hither by the Lord, which 
can look upon everything without being ensnared by it! How 
ashamed it is of the time when it was attached to everything! 
How amazed it is at its blindness! How it pities those who are 
still blind, above all if they are persons of prayer to whom God 
is still granting favours! It would like to cry aloud to them and 

1 St. Vincent Ferrer. De Vita spintualt, Chap. XIV.: "Si dicerent tibi ahquid quod 
at contra fidem s et contra Scnpturani sacrara, aut contra bonos mores, abhorreas 
eorum visionem et judicia, tanquam stultas dementias, et earum raptus, sicut rabia- 
menta," St. Teresa could have read this book in a Spanish version published at 
Toledo in 1510, and reprinted five years later, in a volume containing also the life 
of Blessed Angela de Fohgno and the Rule of St. Glare 

* Psalm hv. 7 [A.V. Iv. 6]. 



XX] LIFE 129 

show them how mistaken they are, and sometimes it does in fact 
do so and brings down a thousand persecutions upon its head. 
Men think it lacking in humility and suppose that it is trying 
to teach those from whom it should learn, especially if the person 
in question is a woman. For this they condemn it, and rightly 
so, since they know nothing of the force by which it is impelled. 
Sometimes it cannot help itself nor endure failing to undeceive 
those whom it loves and desires to see set free from the prison of 
this life; for it is in a prison, nothing less and it realizes that it 
is nothing less that the soul has itself been living. 

It is weary of the time when it paid heed to niceties concern- 
ing its own honour, and of the mistaken belief which it had that 
what the world calls honour is really so. It now knows that to 
be a sheer lie and a lie in which we are all living. It realizes that 
genuine honour is not deceptive, but true; that it values what 
has worth and despises what has none; for what passes away, 
and is not pleasing to God, is worth nothing and less than nothing. 1 
It laughs at itself and at the time when it set any store by money 
and coveted it; though I do not believe I ever had to confess to 
being covetous of money it was quite bad enough that I should 
have set any store by it at all. If the blessing of which I now see 
myself in possession could be purchased with money I should set 
tremendous store by it, but it is clear that this blessing is gained 
by abandoning everything. 

What is there that can be bought with this money which people 
desire? Is there anything valuable? Is there anything lasting? 
If not, why do we desire it? It is but a miserable ease with which 
it provides us and one that costs us very dear. Very often it 
provides hell for us; it buys us eternal fire and endless affliction. 
Oh, if all would agree to consider it as useless dross, how well 
the world would get on, and how little trafficking there would 
be ! How friendly we should all be with one another if nobody 
were interested in money and honour! I really believe this would 
be a remedy for everything. 

The soul sees what blindness there is in the world where 
pleasures are concerned and how even in this life they purchase 
only trials and unrest. What disquiet! What discontent! What 
useless labour! Not only does die soul perceive the cobwebs 
which disfigure it and its own great faults, but so bright is the 
sunlight that it sees every little speck of dust, however small; 
and so, however hard a soul may have laboured to perfect itself, 

1 [Gf. St. John of the Cross, I, 25: "All the creatures are nothing; and their affections, 
we may say, are less than nothing. . . . The soul that sets its affections upon the being 
of creation is likewise nothing in the eyes of God, and less than nothing.** (Ascent 
of Mount Camel, L iv.)] 



130 LIFE [CHAP. 

once this Sun really strikes it, it sees that it is wholly unclean. 
Just so the water in a vessel seems quite clear when the sun is not 
shining upon it; but the sun shows it to be full of specks. This 
comparison is literally exact. Before the soul had experienced 
that state of ecstasy, it thought it was being careful not to offend 
God and doing all that it could so far as its strength permitted. 
But once it reaches this stage, the Sun of Justice strikes it 
and forces it to open its eyes, whereupon it sees so many of these 
specks that it would fain close them again. For it is not yet so 
completely the child of that mighty eagle that it can look this Sun 
full in the face; nevertheless, during the short time that it can 
keep them open, it sees that it is wholly unclean. It remembers 
the verse which says: "Who shall be just in Thy presence?" 1 
When it looks upon this Divine Sun, the brightness dazzles 
it; when it looks at itself, its eyes are blinded by clay. 2 The little 
dove is blind. And very often it remains completely blind, 
absorbed, amazed, and dazzled by all the wonders it sees. From 
this it acquires true humility, which will never allow it to say 
anything good of itself nor will permit others to do so. 3 It is the 
Lord of the garden, and not the soul, that distributes the fruit 
of the garden, and so nothing remains in its hands, but all the 
good that is in it is directed towards God; if it says anything 
about itself, it is for His glory. It knows that it possesses 4 nothing 
here; and, even if it so wishes, it cannot ignore this; for it sees 
it by direct vision, and, willy-nilly, shuts its eyes to things of 
the world, and opens them to an understanding of the truth. 



CHAPTER XXI 

Continues and ends the account of this last degree of prayer. Describes 
the feelings of the soul in this state on its return to life in the world 
and the light which the Lord sheds for it on the world's delusions. 
Contains good doctrine. 

Concluding the matter under discussion, I remark that in 
this state there is no need for the soul to give its consent: it has 

1 [P. Silverio supposes this to refer to Psalm cxln. 2 (A.V., cxliii. 2) : "In thy sight 
no man living shall be justified." But the interrogative form suggests rather Job 
xxv, 4 ("Can man be justified compared with God?") or of Job iv. 17 ("Shall 
man be justified in comparison of God?")] 

* [Bam : mud, clay. Often used in Spanish as a symbol of the earthly and material.! 

3 [Cf Si John of the Cross, I, 62, 9.] 

*[This second u it" must refer to the soul (alma) 9 which is feminine in Spanish. 
P. Silveno, however, has the masculine pronoun el; I follow earlier texts, which amend 
this to dla.] 



XXI] LIFE 131 

given it already and knows that it has surrendered itself \villingly 
into His hands and that He cannot deceive it because He knows 
all things. This is not as it is in the world, where life is foil of 
delusions and deceits; you judge by the profession of friendship 
which a man makes that you have gained his good will, and then 
realize that the profession was a false one. No one can live amid 
such worldly trafficking, especially if he has himself any interest 
in the world. Blessed is the soul which the Lord brings to an 
understanding of the truth ! Oh, what a state this would be for 
kings! How much better it would be for them if they strove 
after it rather than after great dominion! What uprightness 
there would be in their kingdoms! How many evils would be 
prevented and might have been prevented already! Here no 
one fears to lose life or honour for the love of God. How great 
a blessing would such a state be for one who is more bound 
than those beneath him to consider the Lord's honour kings 
will always lead and the people will follow! For the sake of the 
smallest increase in the number of the faithful and for the privilege 
of affording heretics the smallest glimmer of light, I would give 
up a thousand kingdoms, and rightly so. For it is a different 
thing to win a kingdom that shall have no end, because a single 
drop of the water of that kingdom gives him who tastes it a loath- 
ing for everything earthly. What will it be, then, when the soul 
is completely engulfed in such water? 

O Lord, if Thou wert to give me the vocation to proclaim 
this aloud, I should be disbelieved, as are many who can speak 
of it in a way very different from mine. But at least I should 
myself have satisfaction. If I could make others understand a 
single one of these truths I think I should set little store by my 
own life. I do not know what I should do afterwards, for I am 
entirely untrustworthy; despite my being the sort of person I 
am, I keep experiencing strong and consuming impulses to say 
this to persons in authority. But as I can do no more, my Lord, I 
turn to Thee, to beg of Thee a remedy for everything, and well 
dost Thou know that, provided I remain in such a, state as not 
to offend Thee, I would very gladly strip myself of the favours 
Thou hast granted me and give them to kings; for I know that, if 
they had them, it would be impossible for them to permit things 
which they permit now, or to fail to possess the greatest blessings. 

O my God! Give them to understand how great are their 
obligations. For Thou hast been pleased to single them out on 
earth in such a way that, as I have heard, when Thou dost remove 
one of them, Thou even slowest signs in the heavens. Enkindled 
indeed, is my devotion, O my King, when I reflect that it is Thy 
will that this should teach them that they must imitate Thee 



132 LIFE [CHAP. 

in their lives, since at their deaths there are such signs in the 
heavens as there were when Thou Thyself didst die. 

I am being very bold. Your Reverence must destroy this if 
you think it wrong. But, believe me, I should say it better in the 
very presence of kings if I had the opportunity of doing so or 
thought they would believe me, for I commend them earnestly 
to God and wish that I might be of some profit to them. All 
this prompts one to risk one's life (and I often wish I could lose 
mine) : for the risk would be a small one to run for so great a gain, 
and life becomes hardly possible when with one's own eyes one 
sees the great delusion in which we are walking and the blind 
way in which we act. 

When a soul has reached this state, it has not merely desires 
to serve God: His Majesty also gives it strength to carry these 
desires into effect. No way in which it thinks it may serve God 
can be set before it into which it will not fling itself; and yet it 
is doing nothing, because, as I say, it sees clearly that nothing 
is of any value save pleasing God. The trouble is that no such 
task presents itself to people who are as worthless as I. May it 
be Thy pleasure, my God, that the time may come in which I 
shall be able to pay at least a few mites 1 of all I owe Thee; do 
Thou ordain it, Lord, according to Thy pleasure, that this Thy 
handmaiden may in some way serve Thee. There have been 
other women who have done heroic deeds for love of Thee. I 
myself am fit only to talk, and therefore, my God, it is not Thy 
good pleasure to test me by actions. All my will to serve Thee 
peters out in words and desires, and even here I have no freedom, 
for it is always possible that I may fail altogether. 

Do Thou strengthen and prepare my soul first of all, Good 
of all good, my Jesus, and do Thou then ordain means whereby 
I may do something for Thee, for no one could bear to receive as 
much as I have done and pay nothing in return. Cost what it 
may, Lord, permit me not to come into Thy presence with such 
empty hands, since a man's reward must be in accordance with 
his works. 2 Here is my life; here is my honour and my will. I 
have given it all to Thee; I am Thine; dispose of me according 
to Thy desire. Well do I know, my Lord, of how little I am 
capable. But now that I have approached Thee, now that I have 
mounted this watch-tower whence truths can be seen, I shall be 
able to do all things provided Thou withdraw not from me. 

1 Algtin cornado. The cornado was a small copper com, worth about as much as a 
cuarfo, or T ot7 f a peseta. It had come in late in the thirteenth century and in St 
Teresa's day was no longer current; but it was spoken of metaphorically, in the sense 
of "brass farthing* 1 or "mite", much as the cuarto is now. 

[Probably a reminiscence of Apocalypse ii, 123: "And I will give to every one of 
you according to your works."] 



XXI] LIFE 133 

Withdraw Thou, and, for however short a time, I shall go where 
I have already been namely, to hell. 

Oh, what it is for a soul which finds itself in this state to have 
to return to intercourse with all, to look at this farce of a life and 
see how ill-organized it is, to spend its time in meeting the needs 
of the body, in sleeping and in eating. It is wearied by every- 
thing; it cannot run away; it sees itself chained and captive; 
and it is then that it feels most keenly the imprisonment into which 
we are led by our bodies and the misery of this life. It under- 
stands why Saint Paul besought God to deliver him from it; 1 it 
joins its cries to his; and, 23 I have said on other occasions, it 
begs God for freedom. But in this state it often cries with such 
vehemence that it seems as if the soul is desirous of leaving the 
body and going in search of that freedom, since no one is delivering 
it. It wanders about like one who has been sold into a strange 
land; its chief trouble is finding so few to join in its complaints 
and prayers, since as a rule men desire to live. Oh, were we but 
completely detached and were our happiness not fixed on things 
of earth, how the distress caused us by living all the time without 
God would temper our fear of death with the desire to enjoy true 
life! 

I sometimes wonder, if a woman like myself, to whom the 
Lord has given this light, but whose charity is so lukewarm and 
whose works have not won for her any certainty of true rest, is 
nevertheless so often sad at finding herself in this exile, what the 
sorrow of the saints must have been. What must Saint Paul and the 
Magdalen have suffered, and others like them, in whom this fire 
of the love of God burned so vehemently? Their sufferings must 
have been one continuous martyrdom. I think any relief I obtain, 
and any desire I have for intercourse with others, is due to my 
finding people with these desires I mean desires coupled with 
works. I say "with works" because there are people who think 
and proclaim themselves to be detached and who must be so, 
for it is required by their vocation and certified by the many 
years that have passed since some of them began to walk in the 
way of perfection. Yet this soul of mine can distinguish from a 
long way off, and quite clearly, those who are detached only in 
word, and whose words are confirmed by their works; for it 
knows how little good is done by the one class and how much by 
the other; and this is a thing which can be very clearly discerned 
by anyone with experience. 

We have now described the effects proceeding from raptures 
which come from the Spirit of God. It is true that some of these 

1 Romans vii, 24* "Unhappy man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body 
of this death?*' 



134 LIFE [CHAP. 

are greater and some less: by "less" I mean that, although these 
effects are produced, they are not at first expressed in works and 
it may not become evident that the soul has them. Perfection, 
too, has to grow; the cobwebs have to be brushed away from the 
memory; and this takes some time. And the more love and humil- 
ity grow in the soul, the greater is the fragrance yielded by these 
flowers of the virtues for the benefit both of the soul itself and of 
others. The fact is that, during one of these raptures, the Lord 
can work in the soul in such a way that there remains little for it 
to do in order to acquire perfection. For, except by experience, 
no one will ever believe what the Lord bestows on the soul here; 
no efforts of ours, in my opinion, can acquire it. I do not mean 
that those who work hard for many years, in the ways described 
by writers on prayer, following their principles and using their 
methods, will not, after much labour, and with the help of the 
Lord, attain to detachment and perfection. But they will not do so 
as speedily as by means of raptures, in which the Lord works 
without our collaboration and draws the soul away from the earth 
and gives it dominion over all earthly things, although there may 
be no more merits in such a soul than there were in mine and 
I cannot say more than that, for I had hardly any. 

The reason His Majesty does this is that it is His will, and it is 
according as He wills that He does it; and, though the soul may 
not be prepared, His Majesty prepares it to receive the blessing 
which He is giving it. Although He most certainly never fails 
to comfort those who make proper preparation and strive after 
detachment, He does not always bestow blessings because the 
recipients have deserved them by cultivating tKeir garden. It is 
sometimes His will, as I have said, to manifest His greatness in the 
worst kind of soil; He prepares it for every blessing, so that it 
seems almost as if it would be impossible for the soul to return 
to the life of sin against God which it had lived previously. Its 
mind is now so used to thinking upon eternal truth that 
anything else seems to it mere child's play. It sometimes enjoys 
a quiet laugh when it sees serious people men of prayer, leading 
the religious life making a great fuss about niceties concerning 
their honour, which it has long since trampled beneath its feet. 
They say that discretion demands this and that the more they have 
of the authority due to their positions the more good they can do. 
But the soul knows very well that if they subordinated the author- 
ity due to their positions to the love of God they would do more 
good in a day than they are likely to do as it is in ten years. 

So the life of this soul continues a troubled life, never without 
its crosses, but a life of great growth. Those with Vhom the soul 
has to do keep thinking it has reached its summit, but soon after- 



XXI] LIFE 135 

wards they find it higher still, for God is always giving it new 
favours. It is God Who is the soul of that soul; and, as He has it in 
His keeping. He sheds His light upon it. He seems to be continually 
watching over it, lest it should offend Him, and assisting and 
awakening it to serve Him. When my soul reached the point at 
which God began to grant me this great favour, my troubles 
ceased, and the Lord gave me strength to escape from them. 
Meeting occasions of sin and being with people who were wont 
to distract me had now no more effect upon me than if they had 
not been there. Indeed, what had previously been apt to harm 
me now became a help to me; everything was a means by which 
I was enabled to know and love God the better, to realize what I 
owed Him and to be grieved at having been what I once was. 

I knew quite well that none of this was due to myself and that 
I had not won it by my own efforts, for there had not been time 
enough for me to do that. His Majesty had given me the needful 
strength out of His own goodness. From the time when the Lord 
began to grant me the favour of these raptures, until now, this 
strength has continued to increase, and God of His goodness 
has held me by His hand so that I should not turn back. This 
being so, I realize that I am doing hardly anything of myself; I 
understand clearly that it is all the work of the Lord. I think, 
therefore, that souls on whom the Lord bestows these favours, 
and who walk in humility and fear, ever realizing that all is due to 
the Lord Himself and in no wise to our efforts, may safely mix 
with any kind of company whatsoever. However distracting 
and vicious such company may be, it will have no effect on them 
nor will it in any way move them; on the contrary, as I have said, 
it will help them and be a means whereby they may, Derive the 
greater profit. It is strong souls that are chosen by the Lord to 
profit others, though their strength does not come from themselves. 
For, when the Lord brings a soul to this state, He gradually 
communicates to it very great secrets. 

In this state of ecstasy occur true revelations, great favours 
and visions, all of which are of service in humbling and strength- 
ening the soul and helping it to despise the things of this life and 
to gain a clearer knowledge of the reward which the Lord has 
prepared for those who serve Him. May it please His Majesty 
that the immense bounty with which He has treated this miserable 
sinner may do something to influence those who read this, so that 
they may find strength and courage to give up absolutely every- 
thing for God's sake ! If His Majesty requites us so amply that even 
in this life we have a clear vision of the reward and the gain of 
those who serve Him, what will He not do in the life to come? 



136 LIFE [CHAP. 



CHAPTER XXII 

Describes how safe a practice it is for contemplatives not to uplift their spirits 
to lofty things if they are not so uplifted by the Lord, and how the path 
leading to the most exalted contemplation must be the Humanity of 
Christ. Tells of an occasion on which she was herself deceived. 
This chapter is very profitable. 

There is one thing that I want to say, if Your Reverence thinks 
it well that I should do so, as in my opinion it is important. 
It will serve as what may be necessary advice ; for there are some 
books written about prayer which say that, although of itself the 
soul cannot reach this state, since the work wrought in it by the 
Lord is entirely supernatural, it can get some way towards it by 
raising the spirit above all created things and causing it to rise aloft 
in humility after it has spent some years in the Purgative life and 
made progress in the Illuminative. I do not know why they call 
it Illuminative but I understand it to mean the life of those who 
are making progress. And these books advise us earnestly to put 
aside all corporeal imagination and to approach the contem- 
plation of the Divinity. For they say that anything else, even 
Christ's Humanity, will hinder or impede those who have arrived 
so far from attaining to the most perfect contemplation. They 
quote the words of the Lord on this subject to the Apostles with 
regard to the coming of the Holy Spirit 1 I mean, after He had 
ascended into Heaven. But it seems to me that if they had then 
had faith, as they had after the Holy Spirit came, to believe that 
He was God and Man, it would have been no hindrance to them ; 
for this was not said to the Mother of God, though she loved Him 
more than all the rest. 2 But these writers think that, as this work 
is entirely spiritual, anything corporeal may disturb or impede it, 
and that what contemplatives must contrive to do is to think of 
themselves as circumscribed, but of God as being everywhere, 
so that they may become absorbed in Him. It will be all right, 
I think, to do this sometimes, but I cannot bear the idea that we 
must withdraw ourselves entirely from Christ and treat that 
Divine Body of His as though it were on a level with our miseries 

1 [Presumably St. John xvi. 7-14 is meant The Spanish has "at the time of" 
for "with regard to" and the "had" which follows is in the indicative mood, gram- 
matically, therefore, the sense of the passage is that the words were spoken after 
the Holy Spirit had come. No doubt this was an inadvertence on the part of the 
author.] 

* The passage "But it seems to me . . . all the rest" was inserted by the author 
in the margin of the autograph. 



XXII] LIFE 137 

and with all created things. May His Majesty grant me the 
ability to explain myself. 1 

I do not contradict this view, for it is held by learned and 
spiritual men, who know what they are saying, and God leads 
souls along many roads and by many ways, as He has led mine. 
It is of mine that I now wish to speak, without interfering with the 
souls of others, and of the danger in which I found myself through 
trying to fall into line with what I read. I can well believe that 
anyone who attains to union and goes no farther I mean, to 
raptures and visions and other favours granted to souls by God 
will thinjc that view to be the best, as I did myself. But if I had 
acted upon it, I do not think I should ever have reached my 
present state, for I believe it to be mistaken. It may, of course, 
be I who am mistaken but I will relate what happened to me. 

As I had no director, I used to read these books, and gradually 
began to think I was learning something. I found out later that, 
if the Lord had not taught me, I could have learned little from 
books, for until His Majesty taught it me by experience what I 
learned was nothing at all; I did not even know what I was doing. 
When I began to gain some experience of supernatural prayer 
I mean of the Prayer of Quiet I tried to put aside everything 
corporeal, though I dared not lift up my soul, for, being always 
so wicked, I saw that to do this would be presumption. But I 
thought I was experiencing the presence of God, as proved to be 
true, and I contrived to remain with Him in a state of recollection. 
This type of prayer, if God has a part in it, is full of delight, and 
brings great joy. - And in view of the advantage I was deriving 
from it and the pleasure it was bringing me, no one could have 
made me return to meditation on the Humanity on the con- 
trary, this really seemed to me a hindrance. O Lord of my soul 
and my Good, Jesus Christ crucified! Never once do I recall this 
opinion which I held without a feeling of pain: I believe I was 
committing an act of high treason, though I committed it in 
ignorance. 

All my life I had been greatly devoted to Christ (for this 
happened quite recently: by "recently" I mean before the Lord 
granted me these favours these raptures and visions), 2 so I 
remained of this opinion only for a very short time and then 
returned to my habit of continually rejoicing in the Lord. 

1 This chapter, which dwells on the suitability of the Humanity^of Christ as a sub- 
ject for meditation, attacks an idea, very prevalent in St. Teresa's time, that at certain 
stages of mystical progress any such "corporeal" subject, even the mystery of Our 
Lord's Incarnation, should be rigidly excluded by the contemplative. All later 
Spanish mystics follow St. Teresa here and many specifically eulogize or embroider 
this exposition. 

2 "By * recently' . . . visions" is a marginal addition in St. Teresa's hand. 



i 3 8 LIFE [CHAP. 

Especially when communicating, I would wish I had His portrait 
and image always before my eyes, since I could not have it as 
deeply engraven on my soul as I should like. Is it possible, my 
Lord, that for so much as an hour I could have entertained the 
thought that Thou couldst hinder my greatest good? Whence 
have all good things come to me save from Thee? I do not want 
to think that I was to blame for this, for I grieve greatly about it 
and it was certainly a matter of ignorance. So Thou, in Thy 
goodness, wert pleased to bring it to an end by giving me one who 
would cure me of this error, 1 and afterwards by permitting me 
often to see Thee, as I shall relate hereafter, so that I might 
clearly realize how great my error was and tell many people 
of it, as I have done, and set it all down here and now. 

I believe myself that this is the reason why many souls, after 
succeeding in experiencing the Prayer of Union, do not make 
further progress and achieve a very great spiritual freedom. 
There are two reasons, I think, on which I can found my opinion; 
there may, of course, be nothing in it, but what I say I have 
observed in my own experience, for my soul was in a very bad 
way until the Lord gave it light: all the joys it had experienced 
had come in little sips, and, once these were over, xt never ex- 
perienced any companionship, as it did later, at times of trial 
and temptation. One of these reasons is that the soul is somewhat 
lacking in humility and that what it has is so completely disguised 
and hidden as not to be noticed. Who can there be, like myself, 
so miserably proud that, when he has laboured all his life long 
over every imaginable kind of penance and prayer and suffered 
every kind of persecution, he does not count himself very wealthy 
and very abundantly rewarded if the Lord allows him to stand 
with Saint John, at the foot of the Gross? I cannot imagine how it 
can enter anyone's head not to be contented with this; yet I 
myself was not, and I have lost in every respect where I ought 
to have gained. 

It may be that our temperament, or some indisposition, will not 
always allow us to think of the Passion, because of its painfiilness; 
but what can prevent us from being with Him in His Resurrection 
Body, since we have Him so near us in the Sacrament, where He 
is already glorified? Here we shall not see Him wearied and broken 
injbody, streaming with blood, exhausted by journeying, perse- 
cuted by those to whom He was doing such good, disbelieved 
by the Apostles, Certainly it is not always that one can bear to 
think of such great trials as those which He suffered. But here 
we can behold Him free from pain, full of glory, strengthening 
some, encouraging others, ere He ascends to the Heavens. In 

1 [Lewis (p. 187, EU 5) supposes this to be P. Juan de Pnidanos: cf. p. 151, n. 2 below.] 



XXII] LIFE 139 

the Most Holy Sacrament He is our Companion and it would 
seem impossible for Him to leave us for a moment. And yet 
it was possible for me to leave Thee, my Lord, in the hope that 
I might serve Thee better ! True, when I offended Thee, I knew 
Thee not, but to think that, when I did know Thee, I could 
suppose it possible that in such a way I should gain more! How 
mistaken, Lord, was the path I followed! Indeed, I think I 
should be following no path at all hadst Thou not brought me 
back to it. For when I see Thee near me I have seen all blessings. 
No trial has come to me that I cannot gladly bear when I look 
at Thee as Thou stoodest before Thy judges. With so good a Friend, 
so good a Captain at our side, Who came forward first of all 
to suffer, one can bear everything. He helps us; He gives us 
strength; He never fails; He is a true Friend. 

I can see clearly, and since that time have always seen, that 
it is God's will, if we are to please Him and He is to grant us 
great favours, that this should be done through His most sacred 
Humanity, in Whom, His Majesty said, He is well pleased. Very, 
very many times have I learned this by experience: the Lord has 
told it me. I have seen clearly that it is by this door that we must 
enter if we wish His Sovereign Majesty to show us great secrets. 
Therefore, Sir, 1 even if you reach the summit of contemplation 
Your Reverence must seek no other way: that way alone is safe. 
It is through this Lord of ours that all blessings come. He will 
show us the way; we must look at His life that is our best pattern. 
What more do we need than to have at our side so good a Friend, 
Who will not leave us in trials and tribulations, as earthly friends 
do? Blessed is he who loves Him in truth and has Him always at 
his side. Let us consider the glorious Saint Paul, from whose lips 
the name of Jesus seems never to have been absent, because He 
was firmly enshrined in his heart. Since realizing this, I have 
looked carefully at the lives of a number of saints who were great 
contemplatives and I find that they followed exactly the same road. 
Saint Francis, with his stigmata, illustrates this, as does Saint 
Anthony of Padua with the Divine Infant. Saint Bernard, too, 
delighted in Christ's Humanity, and so did Saint Catherine of 
Siena and many others of whom Your Reverence will know 
better than I. 

This withdrawal from the corporeal must doubtless be good, since 
it is advised by such spiritual people, but my belief is that it must 
be practised only when the soul is very proficient : until then, it is 
clear, the Creator must be sought through the creatures. All this 

1 She seems to be addressing P. Garda de Toledo here and the addition of "Sir" 
may be due to the fact that he was the son of the Count of Oropesa. She uses the 
same word when writing to the aristocratic Don Alvaro de Mendoza, Bishop of Avila. 



140 LIFE [CHAP. 

has to do with the grace which the Lord bestows on every soul: 
into that matter I will not enter. What I should like to make clear 
is that Christ's most sacred Humanity must not be reckoned 
among these corporeal objects. Let that point be clearly under- 
stood : I wish I knew how to explain it. 

When God is pleased to suspend all the faculties, as we have 
seen that He does in the modes of prayer already described, it is 
clear that, though we may not desire it to be so, this Presence 
is taken from us. At such a time as that, let this be done. Blessed 
is such a loss, since it brings with it the enjoyment of more than we 
seem to have sacrificed; for the soul can then employ itself 
wholly in loving One Whom the understanding has been striving 
hard to know; it loves what it has not comprehended and rejoices 
in that of which it could not have such great fruition save by losing 
itself, in order, as I say, the better to gain itself. But that we 
should exert care and skill to accustom ourselves not to endeavour 
with all our strength to have always before us and the Lord 
grant it be always ! this most sacred Humanity, it is that, I say, 
which seems to me not to be right. The soul is left, as the phrase 
has it, in the air; for it has nothing to lean upon, however full it 
may think itself to be of God. It is a great thing for us, while we 
live as human beings, to have before us Christ's Humanity, 
This is that other inconvenience to which I have already referred. 
The first, which I was beginning to speak about earlier, is a certain 
lack of humility, a desire on the soul's part to nse before the Lord 
raises it, a dissatisfaction with merely meditating on something 
so precious, and a longing to be Mary before one has laboured 
with Martha. When the Lord wishes one to be Mary, there is no 
need for fear, even on the very first day, but we must go carefully 
about it, as I believe I have said already. This little mote of 
deficient humility, though it seems to be of no importance, does a 
great deal of harm to those who wish to make progress in 
contemplation. 

To come now to the second point: we are not angels and we 
have bodies. To want to become angels while we are still on earth, 
and as much on earth as I was, is ridiculous. As a rule, our thoughts 
must have something to lean upon, though sometimes the soul may 
go out from itself and very often may be so full of God that it 
will need no created thing to assist it in recollection. But this is 
not very usual: when we are busy, or suffering persecutions or 
trials, when we cannot get as much quiet as we should like, and 
at seasons of aridity, we have a very good Friend in Christ. We 
look at Him as a Man; we think of His moments of weakness and 
times of trial; and He becomes our Companion. Once we have 
made a habit of thinking of Him in this way, it becomes very easy 



XXII] LIFE 141 

to find Him at our side, though there will come times when it is 
impossible to do either the one thing or the other. For that 
reason it is advisable to do as I have already said: we must not 
show ourselves to be striving after spiritual consolations; come 
what may, the great thing for us to do is to embrace the Cross. 
The Lord was deprived of all consolation; they left Him alone 
in His trials. Let us not leave Him; for His hand will help us 
to rise more effectually than our own efforts; and He will with- 
draw Himself when He sees that it is good for us and when He is 
pleased to draw the soul out of itself, as I have said. 

God is well pleased to see a soul humbly taking His Son as 
Mediator, and yet loving Him so much that, even if His Majesty is 
pleased to raise it to the highest contemplation, as I have said, 
it realizes its unworthiness, and says with Saint Peter: ee Depart 
from me. Lord, for I am a sinful man." 1 I have proved this, for 
it is in this way that God has led my soul. Others, as I have said, 
will take another and a shorter road. What I have learned is this : 
that the entire foundation of prayer must be established in humil- 
ity, and that, the more a soul abases itself in prayer, the higher 
God raises it. I do not remember that He has ever granted me 
any of the outstanding favours of which I shall speak later save 
when I have been consumed with shame by realizing my own 
wickedness; and His Majesty has even managed to help me to 
know myself by revealing to me things which I myself could nDt 
have imagined. I believe myself that, when a soul does anything 
to further its own progress in this Prayer of Union, it may seem 
to be deriving some immediate benefit but will very quickly 
fall again, because it has not laid the proper foundations. Indeed, 
I fear it will never attain to true poverty of spirit, which consists 
in seeking, not comfort or pleasure in prayer (for it has already 
abandoned earthly comforts and pleasures), but consolation in 
trials for the love of Him Who suffered trials all His life long; 
and we must endure these trials, and be calm amidst aridities, 
though we may feel some regret at having to suffer them. They 
should not cause us the unrest and distress which they cause some 
people who think that, if they are not for ever labouring with the 
understanding and striving after feelings of devotion, they are 
going completely astray, as if by so labouring they were meriting 
some great blessing. I do not mean that these things should not 
be sought after, or that we should not be careful how we approach 
the presence of God, but merely that, as I have said elsewhere, 
we must not worry ourselves to death if we cannot think one 
single good thought. We are unprofitable servants : 2 what do we 
suppose it is in our power to accomplish? 

1 St. Luke v, 8. * [St. Luke xvii, 10.] 



142 LIFE [CHAP. 

But it is the Lord's will that we should know this and be like 
the little donkeys that draw the above-described water-wheel. 
Though their eyes are shut and they have no idea what they are 
doing, these donkeys will draw more water than the gardener 
can with all his efforts. After placing ourselves in the hands of 
God, we must walk along this road quite freely. If His Majesty 
is pleased to promote us to be among those of His chamber and 
privy council, we must go with Him willingly; if He is not, we 
must serve Him in lowly offices and not sit down in the best places, 
as I have said elsewhere. God cares for us better than we can care 
for ourselves and He knows of what each of us is capable. What is 
the use of governing oneself if one has surrendered one's whole 
will to God? In my view this is much less tolerable here than in 
the first degree of prayer and does much greater harm: these 
blessings are supernatural. If a man has a bad voice, however 
often he forces himself to sing, he will never make it a good one; 
whereas, if God is pleased to give him a good one, he has no need 
to practise singing. 1 Let us, then, continually beseech Him to 
grant us favours, resigned in spirit and yet trusting in God's 
greatness. Since the soul is given leave to sit at Christ's feet, let it 
contrive not to stir thence; let it remain where it will; and let 
it imitate the Magdalen, and, when it is strong, God will lead 
it into the desert. 

Your Reverence must be satisfied with this until you find 
someone who has more experience and more knowledge of the 
matter than I. When people tell you that they are beginning to 
taste of God, do not believe them if they think they are making 
more progress and receiving more consolations by making efforts 
of their own. Oh, how well God can jreveal Himself, when it is 
His will to do so, without these puny efforts of ours ! Do what we 
may, He transports the spirit as easily as a giant might take up a 
straw, and it is useless for us to resist Him. What a strange kind 
of belief is this, that, when God has willed that a toad should fly, 
He should wait for it to do so by its own efforts. And it seems to 
me that for our spirits to be lifted up is a more difficult and 
troublesome matter even than this if God does not lift them up 
for us. For they are weighed down by the earth and by a thousand 
impediments, and the fact that they want to fly is of no help 
to them; for, though flying comes more naturally to them than 
to a toad, they are so completely sunk in the mire that through 
their own fault they have lost the ability. 

1 [The exact sense of this clause is doubtful. Dor voces means to cry or shout aloud 
and the meaning 1 may well be "he has no need to .make a fuss about it". I translate 
"practise singing" only out of deference to the context. P. Silveno has "He" for 
"he" : if we adopt this, we must read: "He [God] has no need to proclaim the fact." 
But this seems to me a definitely inferior interpretation.] 



XXII] LIFE 14 

I will conclude^ then, by saying that, whenever we think o 
Christ, we should remember with what love He has bestowec 
all these favours upon us, and how great is the love which Goc 
has revealed to us in giving us such a pledge of the love which H< 
bears us; for love begets love. And though we may be onh 
beginners, and very wicked, let us strive ever to bear this in mine 
and awaken our own love, for, if once the Lord grants us th< 
favour of implanting this love in our hearts, everything will b< 
easy for us and we shall get things done in a very short time anc 
with very little labour. May His Majesty give us this love, sina 
He knows how much we need it, for the sake of the love whicf 
He bore us and through His glorious Son, Who revealed it to us ai 
such great cost to Himself. Amen. 

One thing which I should like to ask Your Reverence is this 
How is it, when the Lord begins to grant a soul such sublime 
favours as that of bringing it to perfect contemplation, that il 
does not, as by rights it should, become perfect all at once? B) 
rights there is no doubt that it should, for anyone who receives 
so great a favour ought not to seek any further comforts on earth, 
Why is it, then, that raptures, and the soul's growing habituation 
to the receiving of favours, seem to produce results of great and 
growing sublimity and the more detached the soul becomes 
the sublimer they are when the Lord might leave the sou] 
completely sanctified in the same moment that He comes to it? 
How is it that it is only later, as time goes on, that the same Lord 
leaves it perfect in the virtues? I want to know the reason of this, 
for I am quite ignorant of it. What I do know is that there is a 
great difference between the degree of fortitude bestowed by God 
in the early stages of rapture, when this favour lasts no longer 
than the twinkling of an eye and, save for the effects which it 
leaves, is hardly noticed, and in the later stages, when it is 
bestowed in more bountiful measure. And I often think that the 
reason may be that the soul does not at once completely prepare 
itself for this, but that the Lord gradually trains it, and gives it 
determination and manly strength so that it may trample every- 
thing under its feet. It was thus that He dealt with the Magda- 
len, doing His work in her very quickly; and it is thus that He 
deals with other people, according to the way in which they allow 
His Majesty to work. We cannot bring ourselves to realize that 
even in this life God rewards us a hundredfold. 

I have also been thinking of the comparison which follows. 
Assuming that what is given to the most advanced soul is the same 
as what is given to beginners, it is like food shared by many people; 
those Who eat very little of it experience the pleasant taste only 
for a short time; those who eat more derive some sustenance 



144 LIFE [CHAP. 

from it; while those who eat a great deal derive life and strength. 
It is possible to eat of this food of life so frequently and with such 
satisfaction as to derive no pleasure from eating any other. 
For the soul sees how much good it is deriving from it and its 
palate is now so completely accustomed to its sweetness that it 
would rather not live than have to eat any other food, for that 
would do nothing but spoil the pleasant taste left by the good food. 
Again, the companionship of good people does not afford us such 
profitable conversation in one day as in many; and if we have the 
help of God and are long enough in their company, we may 
become like them. In fact, everything depends upon His Majesty's 
good pleasure and upon the person on whom He wishes to bestow 
this favour. But it is very important that anyone who is beginning 
to receive it should resolve to detach himself from everything 
else and hold it in due esteem. 

I think, too, that His Majesty goes about seeking to prove 
who the people are that love Him whether this person does, 
or that person and reveals Himself to us with the sublimest 
joy, so as to quicken our faith, if it is dead, concerning what He 
will give us. "See," He says, "this is but a drop in a vast sea of 
blessings"; for He leaves nothing undone for those He loves, and, 
when He sees that they accept His gifts, He gives and gives 
Himself. He loves every one who loves Him and how well loved 
He is 1 and how good a Friend! Oh, Lord of my soul, if only 
one had words to explain what Thou givest to those that trust in 
Thee, and what is lost by those who reach this state and yet do 
not give themselves to Thee! 2 It is not Thy will, Lord, that this 
should be so, for Thou doest more than this when Thou comest to 
a lodging as wretched as mine. Blessed be Thou for ever and ever! 

I beseech Your Reverence once more, if you discuss these 
things that I have written about prayer with spiritual persons, 
to be sure they are really spiritual. For if they know only one 
path, or have gone half way and then remained where they are, 
they will not be able to discover what it all means. There are 
some, of course, whom God leads by a very exalted road; and 
these think that others can make progress in the same way by 
quieting the understanding and making no use of corporeal aids 
to devotion but if such persons act thus they will remain as dry 
as sticks. There are others who have attained a certain degree 
of quiet and at once think that, as they have done this, they can 
do everything else. But, instead of gaining in this way, they will 
lose, as I have said. So experience and discretion are necessary 
in everything. May the Lord give us these of His goodness. 

1 [Or, "and how well loved is he who loves Him . . . !"] 
*[Lit.: "and keep themselves (to themselves)."] 



XXIII] LIFE 145 



CHAPTER XXIII 

Resumes the description of the course of her life and tells how and by what 

means she began to aim at greater perfection. It is of advantage 

for persons who are concerned in the direction of souls that practise 

prayer to know how they must conduct themselves in the early stages. 

The profit that she herself gained thereby. 



now return to the place where I left off the description of 
my life, for I have digressed longer, I think, than I ought 
in order that what is to come may be the better understood. 
From this point onward, I am speaking of another and a new 
book I mean, of another and a new life. Until now the life I 
was describing was my own; but the life I have been living since 
I began to expound these matters concerning prayer is the life 
which God has been living in me or so it has seemed to me. For 
I believe it to be impossible in so short a time to escape from such 
wicked deeds and habits. Praised be the Lord, Who has delivered 
me from myself! 

Now when I began to avoid occasions of sin and to devote 
myself more to prayer, the Lord began to bestow favours upon 
me and it looked as though He were desirous that I should wish 
to receive them. His Majesty began to grant me quite frequently 
the Prayer of Quiet, and often, too, the Prayer of Union, which 
lasted for a long time. As there have been cases recently in which 
women have been subjected by the devil to serious illusions and 
deceptions, 1 1 began to be afraid, for the delight and the sweetness 
which I felt were so great and often I could not help feeling them. 
But on the other hand I was conscious of a very deep inward 
assurance that this was of God, especially when I was engaged in 
prayer, and I found that I was the better for it and developed 
greater fortitude. But as soon as I became a little distracted, I 
would grow afraid again and begin to wonder if it was the devil 
who wanted to suspend my understanding, and make me believe 
it was a good thing, so that he might deprive me of mental 
prayer, and prevent me from thinking of the Passion and making 
use of my understanding. It seemed to me that I was losing rather 
than gaining, but I did not understand the matter properly. 

As His Majesty, however, was now pleased to give me light so 
that I should not offend Him and should understand how much 

1 Such were the notorious Sor Magdalena de la Cruz of Cordoba [and Maria de la 
Visitacion, the Lisbon prioress who was credited with having received the Stigmata; 
cf. SSJVf.,!, 37-8]. 



146 LIFE [CHAP. 

I owed Him, my fear increased, to such an extent that it made me 
seek diligently after spiritual persons with whom to discuss this. 
I already knew of some, for the Fathers of the Company of Jesus 
had come here, 1 and, though I was unacquainted with any of 
them, I was attracted to them by my knowledge of their method 
of life and prayer alone. But I did not consider myself ^ worthy 
to speak to them or strong enough to obey them, and this made 
me still more afraid; for I felt that it would be unthinkable 2 
foi rne to discuss these matters with them and yet remain as I was. 

I went on for some time in this way, until, after experiencing 
much inward strife and many fears, I determined to have a 
talk with a spiritual person, to ask him what that kind of prayer 
was which I was practising and to make it clear to me if I was 
going astray. I also determined to do all I could not to offend 
God, for, as I have said, my lack of fortitude, of which I was so 
conscious, made me very timid. God help me, what a great 
mistake I was making by giving up what was good when I wanted 
to be good all the time! The devil must think this very important 
at the outset of a soul's growth in virtue, for I was quite unable 
to take myself in hand. 3 He knows that the great means of 
progress for a soul is converse with friends of God, and thus 
it was for this reason that I could not come to a decision. First 
of all, I waited till I had amended my life, just as I had done 
when I gave up prayer. It may be that I should never have 
amended it, for I was such a slave to my little bad habits that I 
could not bring myself to realize that they were bad at all : I 
needed the help of others, who would take me by the hand and 
raise me up. Blessed be the Lord that, in the end, the first hand 
to raise me was His ! 

When I found that my fear was getting such a hold over me, 
because I was progressing in the practice of prayer, it seemed to 
me that there must either be something very good about this or 
something terribly bad; for I was quite sure that my experiences 
were supernatural because sometimes I was unable to resist 
them, nor could I come by them whenever I wanted to. I 
thought to myself that there was nothing I could do but keep a 
clear conscience and avoid all occasions of even venial sin; 
for, if it was the Spirit of God at work, I was obviously the gainer, 
whereas, if it was the devil, he could do me little harm provided 

l Itwasin 1554 that the Society of Jesus founded the College of St. Giles (San Gil) at 
Avila, to which foundation St. Teresa owed a great deal of the spiritual help which she 
received from the Jesuit Fathers. 

8 [Cosa recta. Lit. : "a stout (tough, hard) thing " As we might savin conversation: 
"A little too strong."] 

3 [Aea&urto conmtgo. A stronger rendering, such as "put an end to it all'% would 
not be out of place.] 



XXIII] LIFE 147 

I strove to please the Lord and not to offend Him in fact, the 
devil could not fail to be the loser. Having resolved upon this, 
and begging God all the time to help me, I strove for some days 
to live in this way, but found that my soul was not strong enough 
by itself to achieve such a high degree of perfection; for I was 
attached in certain ways to things which, though not wrong in 
themselves, were sufficient to spoil all my efforts. 

They told me of a learned cleric who lived in that place, and 
whose goodness and holy life the Lord was beginning to make 
known among the people. 1 I got to know him through a saintly 
gentleman who lived there also. 2 This gentleman is married, 
but his life is so exemplary and virtuous, and so outstanding in 
prayer and charity, that everything he does is resplendent with 
his goodness and perfection. And with good reason, for many 
souls have been greatly benefited by him: such great talents 
has he that, although his being married is anything but a help 
to him, he cannot do otherwise than use them. He is a man of 
great intelligence, and very gentle with everybody; and his 
conversation is never wearisome, but so pleasant and gracious, 
not to say upright and holy, that it gives great delight to those 
with whom he has to do. He directs all he does to the great good 
of the souls with whom he holds converse and he seems to have no 
other aim than to do whatever he can for everyone he meets 
and to give everyone pleasure. 

Well, so diligent on my behalf was this blessed and holy man 
that he seems to me to have been the beginning of my soul's 
salvation. The humility he has shown me is astounding; for 
he has practised prayer, I believe, for nearly forty years perhaps 
two or three years less and the life he lives, I think, is as nearly 
perfect as his married state permits. His wife, too, is so great a 
servant of God and so charitable a woman that she is no hindrance 
to him: indeed, she was chosen to be the wife of one who God 
knew would be a great servant of His. 

Some of their relatives were married to some of mine 3 and 
I also had a good deal to do with another great servant of God who 
was married to one of my cousins. It was in this way that I 
arranged for this cleric who, as I say, was such a servant of God 
to come to speak with me: he was a great friend of this gentle- 
man and I thought of having him as my confessor and director. 

1 This was Caspar Daza, a pious and learned priest who for some time was St. 
Teresa's confessor and helped her a great deal with the foundation of St. Joseph's. 
He died in 1592. 

2 Don Francisco de Salcedo, an Avilan gentleman whose wife, Dona Mencia del 
Aguila, was a cousin of the wife of Don Pedro de Gepeda, St. Teresa's uncle (cf. 
p. 23, above). He had studied theology at the Dominican College of St Thomas* 
in Avila, and after the death of his wife, took Holy Orders. He died in 1580. 

8 One of these links is mentioned in the preceding note* 



148 LIFE [CHAP. 

When he had brought him to talk to me, I, in the greatest confu- 
sion at finding myself in the presence of so holy a man, spoke 
to him about my soul and my method of prayer, but he would 
not hear my confession, saying that he was very much occupied, 
as indeed he was. He began with the holy determination to 
treat me as if I were strong (and so I ought to have been, con- 
sidering the extent to which, as he saw, I practised prayer), 
so that I should give no offence of any kind to God. But when I 
saw how determinedly he was attacking these little habits of 
mine which I have already mentioned, and that I had not 
courage enough to live more perfectly, I became distressed, and, 
realizing that he was treating me in spiritual matters as though I 
were going to become perfect immediately, I saw that I should 
have to be much more carefuL 

In due course I realized that I should not improve by using 
the means which he employed with me, for they were meant 
for a soul which was much more perfect, and I, though advanced 
in Divine favours, was, as regards virtues and mortification, 
still quite a beginner. Really, if I had had nobody else to consult, 
I think my soul would never have shown any improvement, 
for the distress which it caused me to find that I was not doing 
what he told me, and felt unable to do so, was sufficient to make 
me lose hope and give up the whole thing. I sometimes marvel 
that, though he was a person with a particular gift for leading 
beginners to God, it was not God's will that he should under- 
stand my own soul or desire to take it into his charge. But I see 
now that it was all for my good, so that I should get to know 
and consult people as holy as those of the Company of Jesus. 

So I made an arrangement with this saintly gentleman that 
he should sometimes come to see me. It showed what great 
humility he had, that he should have been willing to have to do 
with anyone as wicked as I. He begaii to pay me visits and to 
encourage me and to tell me not to think that I could get rid of 
all my troubles in a day but to be sure that God would help me 
to get rid of them by degrees. He himself, he said, had for many 
years been troubled by some quite trivial imperfections, which 
he had never been able to get rid of. O humility, what great 
blessings dost thou bring to those who possess thee and also to those 
who have to do with the humble-minded! This saint (for so I 
think I can rightly call him) would tell me about his own weak- 
nesses or what his humility led him to think of as such so 
that he might help me. Considered in relation to his state of life, 
they were neither faults nor imperfections, though they would 
be great faults in the life of a religious like myself. I am not 
saying this without a reason; I seem to be enlarging upon small 



XXIII] LIFE 149 

points, and yet these are most important if a soul which is not 
yet fledged, as they say, is to begin to make progress and learn 
to fly, though no one will believe this who has not experienced it. 
And as I hope in God that Your Reverence will benefit many 
souls, I say this here, for my whole salvation was due to the fact 
that this gentleman knew how to treat me and had the humility 
and charity necessary for dealing with me and could put up with 
me when he saw that in some respects I was not amending my 
life. Gradually and discreetly he showed me ways of vanquishing 
the devil. So great was the love which I began to bear him that 
I found nothing more restful than seeing him, though there were 
few days when I was able to do so. Whenever a long time passed 
without a visit from him I would at once become very much 
worried, thinking that he was not coming to see me because I was 
so wicked. 

When he began to realize the seriousness of my imperfections, 
which may even have been sins (though I improved after I got to 
know him), and when, in order to obtain light from him, I told 
him of the graces which God was bestowing upon me, he warned 
me that these two things were not consistent, that such favours 
were given to persons who were very far advanced and greatly 
mortified, and that he could not help having misgivings lest in 
some of these matters an evil spirit might be at work in me, 
though he was not sure. But he told me to think well over 
my experiences in prayer, so far as I understood them, and to 
tell him about them. But that was the difficulty: I simply could 
not describe these experiences; it is only quite recently that God 
has granted me the grace of being able to understand their nature 
and to describe them. 

When he said this to me, fearful as I already was, I was greatly 
distressed and wept sorely; for I really desired to please God 
and I could not persuade myself that this was the work of the 
devil, but I was afraid lest on account of my great sins God might 
be blinding me so that I could not realize it. Looking through 
books to see if I could learn how to describe my method of prayer, 
I found in one, called The Ascent of the Mount,* which describes 
the union of the soul with God, all the symptoms I had when I 
was unable to think of anything. It was exactly this that I was 
always saying that when I was experiencing that type of prayer 
I could think of nothing. So I marked the relevant passages 
and gave him the book, in. order that he and that other cleric 
to whom I have referred, a holy man and a servant of God, 

1 [She refers to the Ascent of Mount Sion, published at Seville, in 1535, by a Fran- 
ciscan lay-brother, Bernardino de Laredo. An account of Laredo and his book will 
be found in SJSM., II, 41-76.] 



150 LIFE [CHAP. 

should look at it and tell me what I ought to do. If they thought 
it well, I would give up prayer altogether, for why should I run 
into these dangers? If after almost twenty years' experience of 
prayer I had gained nothing, but had been deluded by the 
devil, surely it was better for me not to pray at all though this 
would also have been very difficult, for I had already discovered 
what my soul was like without prayer. Whichever way I looked, 
then, I was beset by trials. I was like a person who has fallen 
into a river: whatever the direction he takes, he is afraid the dan- 
ger will be greater and yet he is almost drowning. This is a very 
great trial, and I have experienced many such, as I shall say 
later: it may seem unimportant but it may possibly be of great 
advantage to learn how spirituality is to be tested. 

And certainly this is a grievous trial to experience and one 
needs to be careful women especially so, since we are very weak, 
and may come to great harm if we are told in so many words 
that we are being deluded by the devil. The matter should be 
very carefully considered and women protected from all possible 
dangers. They should be advised to keep their experiences very 
secret and it is well that their advisers should observe secrecy 
too. I speak of this from knowledge, for I have been caused great 
distress by the indiscretion of certain persons with whom I have 
discussed my experiences in prayer. By talking about them to 
each other they have done me great harm, divulging things 
which should have been kept very secret, for tiey are not meant 
for everyone to know, and it looked as though I were publishing 
them myself. The fault, I believe, was not theirs: the Lord 
permitted it so that I might suffer, I do not mean that they 
divulged what I had told them in confessidh, but none the less, 
as they were people whom I had consulted about my fears, so 
that I might obtain light from them, I thought they ought to 
have kept silence. In spite of this, however, 1 never dared to hide 
anything from such persons. I think, then, that women should 
be counselled with great discretion, and encouraged, and the righs 
moment should be awaited, at which the Lord will help them at 
He has helped me: had He not done so, I should have come to 
great harm, so timorous was I and so fearful. Considering the 
serious heart trouble from which I was suffering, I am amazed 
that this did not greatly harm me. 

Well, when I had given him the book, together with the best 
general account of my life and sins that I could (not in confession, 
as he was a layman, but I made it very clear to him how wicked 
I was), these two servants of God 1 considered with great charity 
and love what would be best for me. At length they gave me 

1 Salcedo and Daza. 



XXIII] LIFE 151 

the reply which I had awaited with such dread. During the 
intervening days I had begged many persons to commend me to 
God and had prayed continually. But, when this gentleman 
came to me, it was to tell me with great distress that to the best of 
their belief my trouble came from the devil, and the wisest thing 
for me to do would be to discuss it with a Father of the Company 
of Jesus, who would come to see me if I asked him to do so and 
told him what I needed. I could then give him a perfectly 
clear description of my whole life and spiritual state in the form 
of a general confession; and through the virtue of the Sacrament 
of Confession God would give him more light on my case: these 
Fathers were men of great experience in spiritual matters. I 
ought not, they said, to depart in the very least from whatever he 
might say, because if I had no one to direct me I was in great 
peril. 

This caused me such distress and fear that I did not know 
what to do : I could only weep. But while I was in an oratory, in 
great affliction, and not knowing what was to become of me, I 
read in a book, which it seemed as if the Lord had put into my 
hands, those words of Saint Paul, that God is very faithful and 
never allows people who love Him to be deluded by the devil. 1 
This was the greatest comfort to me. I began to think over my 
general confession and to write down all my good and bad points 
and prepare the clearest account of my life that I possibly could, 
leaving nothing unsaid. I remember that, after writing it, I 
found so many bad points and so little that was good that it 
caused me the greatest distress and affliction. I was also troubled 
that my sisters in the convent should see me consulting such 
saintly people as those of the Company of Jesus; for I was afraid 
of my wickedness and thought that I should now be obliged to 
abandon it and to give up my pastimes, and that if I did not do 
so I should grow worse; and so I arranged with the sacristan 
and portress that they should not talk about it to anyone. How- 
ever, this was of little use, because when I was sent for there was 
someone at the door who talked about it all over the convent. 
What a -lot of obstacles and fears the devil sets before those who 
are anxious to approach God! 

I told that servant of God 2 all about my soul (and he was 
indeed a servant of God and a very prudent one, too) ; and, being 
well versed in the subject, he told me what was wrong and greatly 
encouraged me. He said that I was very evidently being led by 

1 i Corinthians x. 13. "And God is faithful, who \vill not suffer you to be tempted 
above that which you are able: but will make also with temptation issue, that you 
may be able to bear it." 

2 This was P. Juan de Ptddanos, who was St. Teresa's confessor for two months 
and probably the first Jesuit confessor she ever had. He died at Valladolid, in 1597. 



152 LIFE [CHAP. 

the Spirit of God and that I needed to return to my prayer: I 
was not working upon a good foundation, nor had I begun to 
understand the nature of mortification (which was true: I 
do not believe I even understood the meaning of the word). 
I must on no account give up prayer; on the contrary, since God 
was granting me such special favours, I must work hard at it. 
How did I know, he asked me, that the Lord was not desirous 
of using me in order to help a great number of people and 
perhaps to do other things (it seems now that he was prophesying 
what the Lord afterwards did with me) ? I should be very much 
to blame, he added, if I were not responsive to the favours that 
God was showing me. Throughout, as it seemed to me, the Holy 
Spirit was speaking through him, for the good of my soul, to 
judge from the way that his words impressed themselves upon it. 

He made me very much ashamed; and led me along paths 
which seemed to make me quite a different person. What a great 
thing it is to understand a soul! He told me that my daily prayer 
should be based upon one of the incidents of the Passion, and 
that I should get all I could out of that incident, think only of 
Christ's Humanity and as far as possible resist the desire for 
recollection and consolations; these I was not to indulge again 
until he gave me further instructions. 

He left me comforted and strengthened. The Lord helped us 
both, enabled him to understand my spiritual condition and 
showed him how to direct me. I made a determination not to 
depart in any way from what he commanded me and to that 
determination I have remained true until this day. Praised be 
the Lord, Who has given me grace to obey my confessors, however 
imperfectly! These have almost always been chosen from the 
blessed Fathers of the Company of Jesus, although, as I say, I have 
followed them imperfectly. My soul began to grow notably 
better, as I shall now relate. 



CHAPTER XXIV 

Continues the subject already begun. Describes how her soul profited 
more and more after she began to obey, how little it availed her to 
resist the favours of God and how His Majesty went on giving them 
to her in increasing measure. 

After I had made this confession my soul became so amenable 
that I thought there could be nothing which I should not be 
prepared to do; and so I began to make many changes in my 



XXIV] LIFE 153 

habits, although my confessor did not press me to do so and in fact 
seemed to trouble about it all very little. But this moved me the 
more, for he led me by the way of love for God, which brought me, 
not oppression, as it would if I had not done it out of love, but 
freedom. I remained in that state for nearly two months, doing 
all I could to resist the favours and graces of God. The change 
in me was manifest even superficially, for the Lord was already 
beginning to encourage me to suffer things which persons who 
knew me, and even the nuns in my own house, 1 considered and 
described as extreme. And they were right: these things were 
indeed extreme by comparison with what I had been doing before. 
But they fell short of the obligations of my habit and profession. 

By resisting the consolations and favours of God I gained this 
that His Majesty Himself taught rne. For previously I had thought 
that, if I was to receive favours in prayer, I must go apart by 
myself a great deal, and so I had hardly dared to stir. Then I 
began to see how little this had to do with it; the more I tried 
to think of other things, the more completely the Lord enveloped 
me in that sweetness and glory until I felt so completely sur- 
rounded by it that I could not flee from it in any direction; 
and thus matters continued. I was so much concerned about 
this that it caused me distress. The Lord, however, was much 
more concerned, during those two months, to grant me favours 
and to reveal Himself to me more than He had been wont to do, 
so that I might the better understand that resistance was no longer 
in my power. I began to conceive a new love for the most sacred 
Humanity. My prayers now began to take shape like an edifice 
with solid foundations, and I grew fonder of penances, which I had 
neglected because of my frequent indispositions. 

That holy man 2 who heard my confessions told me that there 
were certain things which could not hurt me; and suggested that 
God might perhaps be giving me ill-health just because I did 
not perform penances that is, that His Majesty was being 
pleased to give me the penances Himself. My confessor ordered 
me to practise certain mortifications which I did not find very 
agreeable. But I performed them all, because his commands 
seemed to me to come feom the Lord, and I thanked him for 
giving them to me so that I could obey Him. Any offence, 
however slight, which I might commit against God I would feel 
in my soul so deeply that if I had anything I did not need 3 I 
could not become recollected again until it had been taken away. 
I prayed earnestly that the Lord would hold me by His hand, 

1 The Convent of the Incarnation, Avila. * P. Juan de PrAdanos. 

8 [Ltt. "any superfluous thing" presumably referring to small comforts ox 
luxuries.] 



154 LIFE [CHAP. 

and, now that I was in touch with His servants, would grant me 
grace not to turn back. For to do this, I thought, would be a great 
failing, since it would detract from their credit. 

During this period the town was visited by Father Francis, 
who was Duke of Gandia but some years before had given up 
everything and entered the Company of Jesus. 1 My confessor 
and the gentleman I have spoken of arranged for him to come 
and see me so that I might talk to him and tell him about my 
experiences in prayer, as they knew him to be very proficient 
in this and to be receiving great favours and graces from God, 
as rewards in this life for all that he had given up for Him. When 
he had heard my story, he told me that I was being led by the 
Spirit of God and that he thought I should not be doing right to 
resist Him further. It had been right to do so, he said, uiLtil 
now; but he suggested that I should always begin my prayers 
with a meditation on one of the incidents of the Passion, and, 
if the Lord should then transport my spirit, I should not resist 
Him but should allow His Majesty to have it and make no effort 
to keep it back. He gave me this medicine and counsel as one 
who had himself made great progress: in this matter there is 
much potency