CHAPTER XI.

TREATS OF HOW GOD INSPIRES THE SOUL WITH SUCH VEHEMENT AND IMPETUOUS DESIRES

OF SEEING HIM AS TO ENDANGER LIFE. THE BENEFITS RESULTING FROM THIS DIVINE

GRACE.

1. Favours increase the soul's desire for God. 2. The dart of love. 3.

Spiritual sufferings produced. 4. Its physical effects. S. Torture of the

desire for God. 6. These sufferings are a purgatory. 7. The torments of

hell. 8. St. Teresa's painful desire after God. 9. This suffering

irresistible. 10. Effects of the dart of love. 11. Two spiritual dangers to

life. 12. Courage needed here and given by our Lord.

1. WILL all these graces bestowed by the Spouse upon the soul suffice to

content this little dove or butterfly (you see I have not forgotten her

after all!) so that she may settle down and rest in the place where she is

to die? No indeed: her state is far worse than ever; although she has been

receiving these favours for many years past, she still sighs and weeps

because each grace augments her pain. She sees herself still far away from

God, yet with her increased knowledge of His attributes her longing and her

love for Him grow ever stronger as she learns more fully how this great God

and Sovereign deserves to be loved. As, year by year her yearning after Him

gradually becomes keener, she experiences the bitter suffering I am about to

describe. I speak of 'years' because relating what happened to the person I

mentioned, though I know well that with God time has no limits and in a

single moment He can raise a soul to the most sublime state I have

described. His Majesty has the power to do all He wishes and He wishes to do

much for us. These longings, tears, sighs, and violent and impetuous desires

and strong feelings, which seem to proceed from our vehement love, are yet

as nothing compared with what I am about to describe and seem but a

smouldering fire, the heat of which, though painful, is yet tolerable.

2. While the soul is thus inflamed with love, i t often happens that, from a

passing thought or spoken word of how death delays its coming, the heart

receives, it knows not how or whence, a blow as from a fiery dart. [378] I

do not say that this actually is a 'dart,' but, whatever it may be,

decidedly it does not come from any part of our being. [379] Neither is it

really a 'blow' though I call it one, but it wounds us severely--not, I

think, in that part of our nature subject to physical pain but in the very

depths and centre of the soul, where this, thunderbolt, in its rapid course,

reduces all the earthly part of our nature to powder. At the time we cannot

even remember our own existence, for in an instant, the faculties of the

soul are so fettered as to be incapable of any action except the power they

retain of increasing our torture. Do not think I am exaggerating; indeed I

fall short of explaining what happens which cannot be described.

3. This is a trance of the senses and faculties except as regards what helps

to make the agony more intense. The understanding realizes acutely what

cause there is for grief in separation from God and His Majesty now augments

this sorrow by a vivid manifestation of Himself. This increases the anguish

to such a degree that the sufferer gives vent to loud cries which she cannot

stifle, however patient and accustomed to pain she may be, because this

torture is not corporal but attacks the innermost recesses of the soul. The

person I speak of learnt from this how much more acutely the spirit is

capable of suffering than the body; she understood that this resembled the

pains of purgatory, where the absence of the flesh does not prevent the

torture's being far worse than any we can feel in this world.

4. I saw some one in this condition who I really thought would have died,

nor would it have been surprising, for there is great danger of death in

this state. Short as is the time it lasts, it leaves the limbs all

disjointed and the pulse as feeble as if the soul were on the point of

departure, which is indeed the case, for the natural heat fails, while that

which is supernatural so burns the frame that were it increased ever so

little God would satisfy the soul's desire for death. Not that any pain is

felt by the body at the moment, although, as I said, all the joints are

dislocated so that for two or three days afterwards the suffering is too

severe for the person to have even the strength to hold a pen; [380]

indeed I believe that the health becomes permanently enfeebled in

consequence. At the time this is not felt, probably because the spiritual

torments are so much more keen that the bodily ones remain unnoticed; just

as when there is very severe pain in one part, slighter aches elsewhere are

hardly perceived, as I know by experience. During this favour there is no

physical suffering either great or small, nor do I think the person would

feel it were she torn to pieces.

5. Perhaps you will say this is an imperfection, and you may ask why she

does not conform herself to the will of God since she has so completely

surrendered herself to it. Hitherto she has been able to do so and she

consecrated her life to it; but now she cannot because her reason is reduced

to such a state that she is no longer mistress of herself; nor can she think

of anything but what tends to increase her torment--for why should she seek

to live apart from her only Good? She feels a strange loneliness, finding no

companionship in any earthly creature; nor could she, I believe, among those

who dwell in heaven, since they are not her Beloved: meanwhile all society

is a torture to her. She is like one suspended in mid-air, who can neither

touch the earth nor mount to heaven; she is unable to reach the water while

parched with thirst and this is not a thirst that can be borne, but one

which nothing will quench nor would she have it quenched save with that

water of which our Lord spoke to the Samaritan woman, but this is not given

to her. [381]

6. Alas, O Lord, to what a state dost Thou bring those who love Thee! Yet

these sufferings are as nothing compared with the reward Thou wilt give for

them. It is right that great riches should be dearly bought. Moreover, her

pains purify her soul so that it may enter the seventh mansion, as purgatory

cleanses spirits which are to enter heaven: [382] then indeed these trials

will appear like a drop of water compared to the sea. Though this torment

and grief could not, I think, be surpassed by any earthly cross (so at least

this person said and she had endured much both in body and mind), yet they

appeared to her as nothing in comparison with their recompense. The soul

realizes that it has not merited anguish which is of such measureless value.

This conviction, although bringing no relief; enables the sufferer to bear

her trials willingly--for her entire lifetime, if God so wills,--although

instead of dying once for all, this would be but a living death, for truly

it is nothing else.

7. Let us remember, sisters, how those who are in hell lack this submission

to the divine will and the resignation and consolation God gives such a soul

and the solace of knowing that their pains benefit them, for the damned will

continually suffer more and more; (more and more, I mean in regard to

accidental pains [383] ). The soul feels far more keenly than the body and

the torments I have just described are incomparably less severe than those

endured by the lost, who also know that their anguish will last for ever:

what, then, will become of these miserable souls? What can we do or suffer

during our short lives which is worth reckoning if it will free us from such

terrible and endless torments? I assure you that, unless you have learned by

experience, it would be impossible to make you realize how acute are

spiritual pangs and how different from physical pain. Our Lord wishes us to

understand this, so that we may realize what gratitude we owe Him for having

called us to a state where we may hope, by His mercy, to be freed from and

forgiven our sins.

8. Let us return to the soul we left in such cruel torment. This agony does

not continue for long in its full violence--never, I believe, longer than

three or four hours; were it prolonged, the weakness of our nature could not

endure it except by a miracle. In one case, where it lasted only a quarter

of an hour, the sufferer was left utterly exhausted; indeed, so violent was

the attack that she completely lost consciousness. This occurred when she

unexpectedly heard some verses to the effete that life seemed unending; she

was engaged in conversation at the time, which was on the last day of

Easter. All Eastertide she had suffered such aridity as hardly to realize

what mystery was being celebrated. [384]

9. It is as impossible to resist this suffering as it would be to prevent

the flame's having heat enough to burn us if we were thrown into a fire.

These feelings cannot be concealed: all who are present recognize the

dangerous condition of such a person although they are unable to see what is

passing within her. True, she knows her friends are near, but they and all

earthly things seem to her but shadows. To show you that, should you ever be

in this state, it is possible for your weakness and human nature to be of

help to you, I may tell you that at times, when a person seems dying from

her desire for death [385] which so oppresses her soul with grief that it

appears on the point of leaving her body, yet her mind, terrified at the

thought, tries to still its pain so as to keep death at bay. Evidently this

fear arises from human infirmity, for the soul's longings for death do not

abate meanwhile nor can its sorrows be stilled or allayed until God brings

it comfort. [386] This He usually does by a deep trance or by some vision

whereby the true Comforter consoles and strengthens the heart, which thus

becomes resigned to live as long as He wills. [387]

10. This favour entails great suffering but leaves most precious graces

within the soul, which loses all fear of any crosses it may henceforth meet

with, for in comparison with the acute anguish it has gone through all else

seems nothing. Seeing what she has gained, the sufferer would gladly endure

frequently the same pains [388] but can do nothing to help herself in the

matter. There are no means of reaching that state again until God chooses to

decree it, when neither resistance nor escape is possible. The mind feels

far deeper contempt for the world than before, realizing that nothing

earthly can succour it in its torture; it is also much more detached from

creatures, having learnt that no one but its Creator can bring it

consolation and strength. It is more anxious and careful not to offend God,

seeing that He can torment as well as comfort. [389]

11. Two things in this spiritual state seem to me to endanger life,--one is

that of which I have just spoken which is a real peril and no small one; the

other an excessive gladness and a delight so extreme that the soul appears

to swoon away and seems on the point of leaving the body, which indeed would

bring it no small joy.

12. Now you see. sisters, whether I had not reason to tell you that courage

was needed for these favours and that when any one asks for them from our

Lord He may well reply, as He did to the sons of Zebedee: 'Can you drink the

chalice that I shall drink?' [390] I believe, sisters, we should all

answer 'Yes'--and we should be perfectly right for His Majesty gives strength

when He sees it needed: He ever defends such souls and answers for them when

they are persecuted and slandered as He did for the Magdalen--if not in

words, at least in deeds. [391] At last, ah, at last! before they die He

repays them for all they have suffered, as you shall now learn. May He be

for ever blessed and may all creatures praise Him! Amen.

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[378] Life, ch. xxix. 17. (Transverberation.)

[379] Ibid. ch. xxix. 13, 14. Rel. viii. 16-19.

[380] St. John of the Cross, Obscure Night, bk. ii. ch. i. (in fine);

Spiritual Canticle, stanza xiii; xiv-xv. (in fine). When this happened to

St. Teresa she was unable to write for twelve days. Ribera, Acta SS. p. 555

(in fine). Rel. viii. 13. Life, ch. xx. 16.

[381] St. John iv. 15. Life, ch. . 24. Way of Perf. ch. xix. 4 sqq.

Concept. ch. vii. 7, 8. Found. ch. i. 42. See note, Life, ch. i. 6.

[382] St. John of the Cross, Obscure Night, bk. ii. ch. xii.

[383] Marginal note in the Saint's handwriting. The 'substantial' pain of

hell consists in the irrevocable loss of God, our last end and supreme Good;

this is incurred from the first moment in its fullest intensity and

therefore cannot increase. The physical pain with which the bodies will be

afflicted when united to the souls after the general resurrection may vary,

but will neither increase nor abate. The 'accidental' pain of the damned

arises from various causes, for instance from the ever-increasing effects of

evil actions, and therefore increases in the same proportion. Thus a

heresiarch will suffer keener accidental pain as more and more souls are

lost through his false teaching.

[384] Rel. iv. 1. Concept. ch. vii. 2. Isabel of Jesus, in her deposition in

the Acts of Canonisation (Fuente, Obras, vol. vi. 316) declares that she was

the singer. The words were:

V+¬ante mis ojos,

Dulce Jes+¦s bueno:

V+¬ante mis ojos,

Y mu+¬rame yo lu+¬go.

Fuente, l.c. vol. v. 143, note 1. +Æuvres, ii. 231. (Poem 36, English

version.) There is a slight difference in the two relations of this

occurrence. In Rel. iv. St. Teresa seems to imply that it happened on Easter

Sunday evening, but here she says distinctly: 'Pascua de Resurreccion, el

postrer dia,' that is, on Easter Tuesday, April 17, 1571, at Salamanca.

[385] Compare the words 'Que muero porque no muero' in the Glosa of St.

Teresa. Way of Perf. ch. xlii . 2. Castle, M. vii. ch. iii. 14.

[386] Way of Perf. ch. xix. 10. Excl. vi.; xii. a.; xiv.

[387] See the two versions of the poems written by the Saint on her recovery

from the trance into which she was thrown, beginning 'Vivir sin vivir in

me' and the poem, 'Cuan triste es, Dios mio' (Poems 2, 3, and 4, English

version). See also St. Teresa's poem, 'Ya toda me entregu+¬ y d+¡.' (Poem 7,

English version).

Struck by the gentle Hunter

And overthrown,

Within the arms of Love

My soul lay prone.

Raised to new life at last,

This contract 'tween us passed,

That the Beloved should be mine own,

I His alone.

[388] Rel. viii. 17.

[389] Acta SS. p. 64, n. 229.

[390] St. Matt. xx. 22: 'Potestis bibere calicem quem ego bibiturus sum?'

[391] St. Matt. xxvi. to: St. Mark xiv. 6; St. John xii. 7. Way of Perf. ch.

xvi. 7; xvii. 4. Excl. v. 2-4.

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