CHAPTER VI.

DESCRIBES AN EFFECT WHICH PROVES THE PRAYER SPOKEN OF IN THE LAST CHAPTER TO

BE GENUINE AND NO DECEPTION, TREATS OF ANOTHER FAVOUR OUR LORD BESTOWS ON

THE SOUL TO MAKE IT PRAISE HIM FERVENTLY.

1. The soul longs for death. 2. The soul cannot help desiring these favours.

3. St. Teresa bewails her inability to serve God. 3. Fervour resulting from

ecstasies. 5. Excessive desires to see God should be restrained. 6. They

endanger health. 7. Tears often come from Physical causes. 8. St. Teresa's

own experience. 9. Works, not tears, are asked by God. 10. Confide entirely

in God. 11. The jubilee of the soul. 12. Impossibility of concealing this

joy. 13. The world's judgment of this jubilee. 14. Which is often felt by

the nuns of St. Joseph's. 15. The Saint's delight in this jubilee.

1. THESE sublime favours leave the soul so desirous of fully enjoying Him

Who has bestowed them that life becomes a painful though delicious torture,

and death is ardently longed for. Such a one often implores God with tears

to take her from this exile where everything she sees wearies her. [306]

Solitude alone brings great alleviation for a time, but soon her grief

returns and yet she cannot bear to be without it. In short, this poor little

butterfly can find no lasting rest. So tender is her love that at the

slightest provocation it flames forth and the soul takes flight. Thus in

this mansion raptures occur very frequently, nor can they be resisted even

in public. Persecutions and slanders ensue; [307] however she may try, she

cannot keep free from the fears suggested to her by so many people,

especially by her confessors.

2. Although in one way she feels great confidence within her soul,

especially when alone with God, yet on the other hand, she is greatly

troubled by misgivings lest she is deceived by the devil and so should

offend Him Whom she deeply loves. She cares little for blame, except when

her confessor finds fault with her as if she could help what happens. She

asks every one to pray for her [308] since she has been told to do so, and

begs His Majesty to direct her by some other way than this which is so full

of danger. Nevertheless, so great are the benefits left by these favours

that she cannot but see that they lead her on the way to heaven, [309] of

which she has read and heard and learnt in the law of God. As, strive how

she may, she cannot resist desiring to receive these graces, she resigns

herself into God's hands. Yet she is grieved at finding herself forced to

wish for these favours which appears to be disobedience to her confessor,

for she believes that in obedience, and in avoiding any offence against God,

lies her safeguard against deception. Thus she feels she would prefer to be

cut in pieces rather than wilfully commit a venial sin, yet is greatly

grieved at seeing that she cannot avoid unwittingly falling into a great

number. God bestows on such people so intense a desire neither ever to

displease Him in however small a matter, nor to commit any avoidable

imperfection, that, were there no other reason, they would try to avoid

society and they greatly envy those who live in deserts. [310] On the

other hand, they seek to live amidst men in the hopes of helping if but one

soul to praise God better. [311] In the case of a woman, she grieves over

the impediment offered by her sex [312] and envies those who are free to

proclaim aloud to all Who is this mighty God of hosts. [313]

3. O poor little butterfly! chained by so many fetters that stop thee from

flying where thou wouldst! Have pity on her, O my God, and so dispose her

ways that she may be able to accomplish some of her desires for Thy honour

and glory! Take no account of the poverty of her merits, nor of the vileness

of her nature, Lord, Thou Who hast the power to compel the vast ocean to

retire, and didst force the wide river Jordan to draw back so that the

Children of Israel might pass through! [314] Yet spare her not, for aided

by Thy strength she can endure many trials. She is resolved to do so--she

desires to suffer them. Stretch forth Thine arm, O Lord, to help her lest

she waste her life on trifles! Let Thy greatness appear in this Thy

creature, womanish and weak as she is, so that men, seeing the good in her

is not her own, may praise Theefor it! Let it cost her what it may and as

dear as she desires, for she longs to lose a thousand lives to lead one soul

to praise Thee but a little better. If as many lives were hers to give, she

would count them well spent in such a cause, knowing as a truth most certain

that she is unworthy to bear the lightest cross, much less to die for Thee.

4. I cannot tell why I have said this, sisters, nor what made me do so;

indeed I never intended it. You must know that these effects are bound to

follow from such trances or ecstasies: they are not transient, but permanent

desires; when opportunity occurs of acting on them, they prove genuine. How

can I say that they are permanent, when at times the soul feels cowardly in

the most trivial matters and too timorous to undertake any work for God?

5. I believe it is because our Lord, for its greater good, then leaves the

soul to its natural weakness, which at once convinces it so thoroughly that

any strength it possessed came from His Majesty as to destroy its self-love,

enduing it with a greater knowledge of the mercy and greatness of God which

He deigned to show forth in one so vile. However, the soul is usually in the

former state. Beware of one thing, sisters; these ardent desires to behold

our Lord are sometimes so distressing as to need rather to be checked than

to be encouraged--that is, if feasible, for in another kind of prayer of

which I shall speak later, it is not possible as you will see.

6. In the state I speak of these longings can sometimes be arrested, for the

reason is at liberty to conform to the will of God and can quote the words

of St. Martin; [315] should these desires become very oppressive, the

thoughts may be turned to some other matter. As such longings are generally

found in persons far advanced in perfection, the devil may excite them in

order to make us think we are of their number--in any case it is well to be

cautious. For my part, I do not believe he could cause the calm and peace

given by this pain to the soul, but would disturb it by such uneasiness as

we feel when afflicted concerning any worldly matter. A person inexperienced

in both kinds of sorrow cannot understand the difference, but thinking such

grief an excellent thing, will excite it as much as possible which greatly

injures the health, as these longings are incessant or at least very

frequent.

7. You must also notice that bodily weakness may cause such pain, especially

with people of sensitive characters who cry over every trifling trouble.

[316] Times without number do they imagine they are mourning for God's

sake when they are doing no such thing. If for a considerable space of time,

whenever such a person hears the least mention of God or thinks of Him at

all, these fits of uncontrollable weeping occur, [317] the cause may be an

accumulation of humour round the heart, which has a great deal more to do

with such tears than has the love of God. Such persons seem as if they would

never stop crying: believing that tears are beneficial, they do not try to

check them nor to distract their minds from the subject, but encourage them

as much as possible. The devil seizes this opportunity of weakening nuns so

that they become unable to pray or to keep their Rule.

8. I think you must be puzzling over this and would like to ask what I would

have you do, as I see danger in everything. If I am afraid of delusions in

so good a thing as tears, perhaps I myself am deluded, and may be I am! But

believe me, I do not say this without having witnessed it in other people

although not in my own case, for there is nothing tender about me and my

heart is so hard as often to grieve me. [318] However, when the fire burns

fiercely within, stony as my heart may be, it distils like an alembic. [319]

It is easy to know when tears come from this source, for they are soothing

and gentle rather than stormy and rarely do any harm. This delusion, when it

is one, has the advantage, with a humble person, of only injuring the body

and not the soul. But if one is not humble, it is well to be ever on one's

guard.

9. Let us not fancy that if we cry a great deal we have done all that is

needed--rather we must work hard and practise the virtues: that is the

essential--leaving tears to fall when God sends them, without trying to force

ourselves to shed them. Then, if we do not take too much notice of them,

they will leave the parched soil of our souls well watered, making it

fertile in good fruit; for this is the water which falls from heaven. [320]

However we may tire ourselves in digging to reach it, we shall never get

any water like this; indeed, we may often work and search until we are

exhausted without finding as much as a pool, much less a springing well!

10. Therefore, sisters, I think it best for us to place ourselves in the

presence of God, contemplate His mercy and grandeur and our own vileness and

leave Him to give us what He will, whether water or drought, for He knows

best what is good for us; thus we enjoy peace and the devil will have less

chance to deceive us.

11. Amongst these favours, at once painful and pleasant, Our Lord sometimes

causes in the soul a certain jubilation [321] and a strange and mysterious

kind of prayer. If He bestows this grace on you, praise Him fervently for

it; I describe it so that you may know that it is something real. I believe

that the faculties of the soul are closely united to God but that He leaves

them at liberty to rejoice in their happiness together with the senses,

although they do not know what they are enjoying nor how they do so. This

may sound nonsense but it really happens. So excessive is its jubilee that

the soul will not enjoy it alone but speaks of it to all around so that they

may help it to praise God, which is its one desire. [322]

12. Oh, what rejoicings would this person utter and what demonstrations

would she make, if possible, so that all might know her happiness! She seems

to have found herself again and wishes, like the father of the prodigal son,

to invite all her friends to feast with her [323] and to see her soul in

its rightful place, because (at least for the time being) she cannot doubt

its security. I believe she is right, for the devil could not possibly

infuse a joy and peace into the very centre of her being which make her

whole delight consist in urging others to praise God. It requires a painful

effort to keep silent and to dissemble such impulsive happiness. St. Francis

must have experienced this when, as the robbers met him rushing through the

fields crying aloud, he told them in answer to their questions that he was

the 'herald of the great King.' [324] So felt other saints who retired

into the deserts so that, like St. Francis, they might proclaim the praises

of their God.

13. I knew Fray Peter of Alcantara who used to do this. I believe he was a

saint on account of the life he led, yet people often took him for a fool

when they heard him. [325] Oh happy folly, sisters! Would that God might

let us all share it! What mercy He has shown you in placing you where, if He

gave you this grace and it were perceived by others, it would rather turn to

your advantage than bring on you contempt as it would do in the world, where

men so rarely hear God praised that it is no wonder they take scandal at it.

14. Oh miserable times and wretched life spent in the world! How blest are

those whose happy lot it is to be freed from them! [326] It often delights

me, when in my sisters' company to see how the joy of their hearts is so

great that they vie with one another in praising our Lord for placing them

in this convent: it is evident that their praises come from the very depths

of their souls. I should like you to do this often, sisters, for when one

begins she incites the rest to imitate her. How can your tongues be better

employed when you are together than in praising God, Who has given us so

much cause for it?

15. May His Majesty often grant us this kind of prayer which is most safe

and beneficial; we cannot acquire it for ourselves as it is quite

supernatural. Sometimes it lasts for a whole day and the soul is like one

inebriated, although not deprived of the senses; [327] nor like a person

afflicted with melancholia, [328] in which, though the reason is not

entirely lost, the imagination continually dwells on some subject which

possesses it and from which it cannot be freed. These are coarse comparisons

to make in connection with such a precious gift, yet nothing else occurs to

my mind. In this state of prayer a person is rendered by this jubilee so

forgetful of self and everything else that she can neither think nor speak

of anything but praising God, to which her joy prompts her. Let us all of us

join her, my daughters, for why should we wish to be wiser than she? What

can make us happier? And may all creatures unite their praises with ours for

ever and ever. Amen, amen, amen!

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[306] Excl. ii. See poem 4, 'Cuan triste es, Dios mio'; and the two versions

of 'Vivir sin vivir en mi.' (Poems 3 and 4. Minor Works.)

[307] Life, ch. xxv. 18.

[308] Ibid. ch. xxv. 20. Rel. vii. 7.

[309] Ibid. ch. xxvii. 1, 2.

[310] Rel. i. 6.

[311] Life, ch. ii. 14; xxxv. 13. Castle, M. vii. ch. iv. 21 . Found. ch.

i. 6, 7.

[312] Way of Perf. ch. i.

[313] III Reg. xix. 10.

[314] Ps. cxiii. 3; Exod. xiv. and Jos. iii.

[315] 'When St. Martin was dying, his brethren said to him: 'Why, dear

Father, will you leave us? Or to whom can you commit us in our desolation?

We know, indeed, that you desire to be with Christ, but your reward above is

safe and will not be diminished by delay; rather have pity on us whom you

are leaving desolate.' Then Martin, always pitiful, moved by these

lamentations, is said to have burst into tears. Turning to God, he replied

to the mourners around him only by crying: 'O Lord, if I am still necessary

to Thy people, I do not shrink from toil; Thy will be done.' (Sulpitius

Severus, Life of St. Martin, letter 3.)

[316] Way of Perf.. ch. xvii. 4; xix. 6.

[317] Life, ch. xxix. 12.

[318] Compare with this what we have said in note 1 to the second chapter of

the Fourth Mansions. Rel. ii. 12.

[319] Life, ch. xix. 1-3.

[320] Way of Perf. ch. xix. 6. Life, ch. xviii. 12 sqq.

[321] Philippus a SS. Trinit. l.c. p. iii. tr. i. disc. iv. art. 5. Antonius

a Sp. S. l.c. tr. iv. n.156.

[322] Rel. ii. 12.

[323] St. Luke xv. 23.

[324] 'He plunged into a large forest, and there in a loud voice and in

French, he made the echoes resound with the praises of God. Some robbers,

attracted by his singing, rushed out upon him. But the sight of so poor a

man destroyed their hopes of booty. They questioned him, and Francis gave

them no answer beyond saying in allegorical language: 'I am the herald of

the great King!' The robbers considered themselves insulted by these words.

They threw themselves upon him, beat him severely, and went off after having

thrown him into a ditch full of snow. This treatment only added fire to the

zeal of Francis. He sang his holy canticles with greater love than

before.' (Rev. Father L+¬on, Lives of the Saints of the Order of St. Francis,

vol. 1, ch, i,)

[325] 'St. Peter of Alcantara, in the jubilation of his soul through the

impetuosity of divine love, was occasionally unable to refrain from singing

the divine praises aloud in a wonderful manner. To do this more freely, he

sometimes went into the woods where the peasants who heard him sing took him

for one who was beside himself.' (Rev. Alban Butler, Lives of the Saints.)

[326] Way of Perf. ch. ii. 8; iii. i; viii. 1.

[327] Compare with this what has been said in the fourth chapter of this

Mansion, -º 17, note 17.

[328] Melancholia here as elsewhere means hysteria.

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