Interior Castle

St. Teresa of Avila

Translated and edited by E. Allison Peers

From the Critical Edition of P. Silverio de Stanta Teresa, C.D.

TO THE GRACIOUS MEMORY OF P. EDMUND GURDON SOMETIME PRIOR OF THE
CARTHUSIAN MONASTERY OF MIRAFLORES A MAN OF GOD

PRINCIPAL ABBREVIATIONS

A.V. -- Authorized Version of the Bible (1611).

D.V. -- Douai Version of the Bible (1609).

Letters -- Letters of St. Teresa. Unless otherwise stated, the
numbering of the Letters follows Vols. VII-IX of P. Silverio.
Letters (St.) indicates the translation of the Benedictines of
Stanbrook (London, 1919-24, 4 vols.).

Lewis -- The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, etc., translated by
David Lewis, 5th ed., with notes and introductions by the Very
Rev. Benedict Zimmerman, O.C.D., London, 1916.

P. Silverio -- Obras de Santa Teresa de Jes�s, editadas y anotadas
por el P. Silverio de Santa Teresa, C.D., Durgos, 1915-24, 9 vols.

Ribera -- Francisco de Ribera, Vida de Santa Teresa de Jes�s,
Nueva ed. aumentada, con introducci�n, etc., por el P. Jaime Pons,
Barcelona, 1908.

S.S.M. -- E. Allison Peers, Studies of the Spanish Mystics,
London, 1927-30, 2 vols.

St. John of the Cross -- The Complete Works of Saint John of the
Cross, Doctor of the Church, translated from the critical edition
of P. Silverio de Santa Teresa, C.D., and edited by E. Allison
Peers, London, 1934-35, 3 vols.

Yepes -- Diego de Yepes, Vida de Santa Teresa, Madrid, 1615.

INTERIOR CASTLE

(THE MANSIONS)1

INTRODUCTION

Towards the end of her life, probably near the end of the year
1579, St. Teresa was travelling with three of her nuns from Medina
del Campo, across the bleak Castilian plateau, on her way to St.
Joseph's, Avila. Accidentally (or, as it would be more accurate to
say, providentially) she fell in with an old friend, a
Hieronymite, Fray Diego de Yepes. Their meeting took place at an
inn in the town of Arevalo, where he had arrived some time
previously, and, as was fitting, he had been given the most
comfortable room. When the little party of nuns, half frozen but
still cheerful, reached the inn, there was mutual delight at the
encounter; and Fray Diego not only gave up his room to them but
appointed himself their personal servant for the period of their
stay. They spent, so he tells us, "a very great part of the night"
in conversation about their Divine Master. On the next day it was
snowing so hard that no one could leave. So Fray Diego said Mass
for the four nuns and gave them Communion, after which they spent
the day "as recollectedly as if they had been in their own
convent". In the evening, however, St. Teresa had a long
conversation with her former confessor, who later was to become
her biographer, and in the course of this she recounted to him the
story of how she came to write the Interior Castle. The report of
this narrative may suitably be given in the words of Fray Diego
himself, taken from a letter which he wrote to Fray Luis de Le�n
about nine years later.2

"This holy Mother," he writes, "had been desirous of obtaining
some insight into the beauty of a soul in grace. Just at that time
she was commanded to write a treatise on prayer, about which she
knew a great deal from experience. On the eve of the festival of
the Most Holy Trinity she was thinking what subject she should
choose for this treatise, when God, Who disposes all things in due
form and order, granted this desire of hers, and gave her a
subject. He showed her a most beautiful crystal globe, made in the
shape of a castle, and containing seven mansions, in the seventh
and innermost of which was the King of Glory, in the greatest
splendour, illumining and beautifying them all. The nearer one got
to the centre, the stronger was the light; outside the palace
limits everything was foul, dark and infested with toads, vipers
and other venomous creatures.

"While she was wondering at this beauty, which by God's grace can
dwell in the human soul, the light suddenly vanished. Although the
King of Glory did not leave the mansions, the crystal globe was
plunged into darkness, became as black as coal and emitted an
insufferable odour, and the venomous creatures outside the palace
boundaries were permitted to enter the castle.

"This was a vision which the holy Mother wished that everyone
might see, for it seemed to her that no mortal seeing the beauty
and splendour of grace, which sin destroys and changes into such
hideousness and misery, could possibly have the temerity to offend
God. It was about this vision that she told me on that day, and
she spoke so freely both of this and of other things that she
realized herself that she had done so and on the next morning
remarked to me: 'How I forgot myself last night! I cannot think
how it happened. These desires and this love of mine made me lose
all sense of proportion. Please God they may have done me some
good!' I promised her not to repeat what she had said to anyone
during her lifetime."

Some days before she was granted this marvellous vision, St.
Teresa had had a very intimate conversation on spiritual matters
with P. Jer�nimo Graci�n; the upshot of this was that she
undertook to write another book in which she would expound afresh
the teaching on perfection to be found in her Life, at that time
in the hands of the Inquisitors.3 This we learn from a manuscript
note, in Graci�n's hand, to the sixth chapter of the fourth book
of Ribera's biography of St. Teresa:

What happened with regard to the Book of the Mansions is this.
Once, when I was her superior, I was talking to her about
spiritual matters at Toledo, and she said to me: "Oh, how well
that point is put in the book of my life, which is at the
Inquisition!" "Well," I said to her, "as we cannot get at that,
why not recall what you can of it, and of other things, and write
a fresh book and expound the teaching in a general way, without
saying to whom the things that you describe have happened." It was
in this way that I told her to write this Book of the Mansions,
telling her (so as to persuade her the better) to discuss the
matter with Dr. Vel�zquez, who used sometimes to hear her
confessions; and he told her to do so too.4

Although she did as she was instructed, however, P. Graci�n tells
us that she made various objections, all of them dictated by her
humility. "Why do they want me to write things?" she would ask.
"Let learned men, who have studied, do the writing; I am a stupid
creature and don't know what I am saying. There are more than
enough books written on prayer already. For the love of God, let
me get on with my spinning and go to choir and do my religious
duties like the other sisters. I am not meant for writing; I have
neither the health nor the wits for it."5

Such was the origin of the Interior Castle, one of the most
celebrated books on mystical theology in existence. It is the most
carefully planned and arranged of all that St. Teresa wrote. The
mystical figure of the Mansions gives it a certain unity which
some of her other books lack. The lines of the fortress of the
soul are clearly traced and the distribution of its several parts
is admirable in proportion and harmony. Where the book sometimes
fails to maintain its precision of method, and falls into that
"sweet disorder" which in St. Teresa's other works makes such an
appeal to us, is in the secondary themes which it treats -- in the
furnishing of the Mansions, as we might say, rather than in their
construction. A scholastic writer, or, for that matter, anyone
with a scientific mind, would have carried the logical arrangement
of the general plan into every chapter. Such a procedure, however,
would have left no outlet for St. Teresa's natural spontaneity: it
is difficult, indeed, to say how far experiential mysticism can
ever lend itself to inflexible scientific rule without endangering
its own spirit. Since God is free to establish an ineffable
communion with the questing soul, the soul must be free to set
down its experiences as they occur to it.

In its language and style, the Interior Castle is more correct,
and yet at the same time more natural and flexible, than the Way
of perfection. Its conception, like that of so many works of
genius, is extremely simple. After a brief preface, the author
comes at once to her subject:

I began to think of the soul as if it were a castle made of a
single diamond or of very clear crystal, in which there are many
rooms, just as in Heaven there are many mansions.

These mansions are not "arranged in a row one behind another" but
variously -- "some above, others below, others at each side; and
in the centre and midst of them all is the chiefest mansion, where
the most secret things pass between God and the soul."

The figure is used to describe the whole course of the mystical
life -- the soul's progress from the First Mansions to the Seventh
and its transformation from an imperfect and sinful creature into
the Bride of the Spiritual Marriage. The door by which it first
enters the castle is prayer and meditation. Once inside, "it must
be allowed to roam through these mansions" and "not be compelled
to remain for a long time in one single room". But it must also
cultivate self-knowledge and "begin by entering the room where
humility is acquired rather than by flying off to the other rooms.
For that is the way to progress".

How St. Teresa applies the figure of the castle to the life of
prayer (which is also the life of virtue -- with her these two
things go together) may best be shown by describing each of the
seven stages in turn.6

FIRST MANSIONS. This chapter begins with a meditation on the
excellence and dignity of the human soul, made as it is in the
image and likeness of God: the author laments that more pains are
not taken to perfect it. The souls in the First Mansions are in a
state of grace, but are still very much in love with the venomous
creatures outside the castle -- that as, with occasions of sin --
and need a long and searching discipline before they can make any
progress. So they stay for a long time in the Mansions of
Humility, in which, since the heat and light from within reach
them only in a faint and diffused form, all is cold and dim.

SECOND MANSIONS. But all the time the soul is anxious to penetrate
farther into the castle, so it seeks every opportunity of
advancement -- sermons, edifying conversations, good company and
so on. It is doing its utmost to put its desires into practice:
these are the Mansions of the Practice of Prayer. It is not yet
completely secure from the attacks of the poisonous reptiles which
infest the courtyard of the castle, but its powers of resistance
are increasing. There is more warmth and light here than in the
First Mansions.

THIRD MANSIONS. The description of these Mansions of Exemplary
Life begins with stern exhortations on the dangers of trusting to
one's own strength and to the virtues one has already acquired,
which must still of necessity be very weak. Yet, although the soul
which reaches the Third Mansions may still fall back, it has
attained a high standard of virtue. Controlled by discipline and
penance and disposed to performing acts of charity toward others,
it has acquired prudence and discretion and orders its life well.
Its limitations are those of vision: it has not yet experienced to
the full the inspiring force of love. It has not made a full self-
oblation, a total self-surrender. Its love is still governed by
reason, and so its progress is slow. It suffers from aridity, and
is given only occasional glimpses into the Mansions beyond.

FOURTH MANSIONS. Here the supernatural element of the mystical
life first enters: that is to say, it is no longer by its own
efforts that the soul is acquiring what it gains. Henceforward the
soul's part will become increasingly less and God's part
increasingly greater. The graces of the Fourth Mansions, referred
to as "spiritual consolations", are identified with the Prayer of
Quiet, or the Second Water, in the Life. The soul is like a
fountain built near its source and the water of life flows into
it, not through an aqueduct, but directly from the spring. Its
love is now free from servile fear: it has broken all the bonds
which previously hindered its progress; it shrinks from no trials
and attaches no importance to anything to do with the world. It
can pass rapidly from ordinary to infused prayer and back again.
It has not yet, however, received the highest gifts of the Spirit
and relapses are still possible.

FIFTH MANSIONS. This is the state described elsewhere as the Third
Water, the Spiritual Betrothal, and the Prayer of Union -- that
is, incipient Union. It marks a new degree of infused
contemplation and a very high one. By means of the most celebrated
of all her metaphors, that of the silkworm, St. Teresa explains
how far the soul can prepare itself to receive what is essentially
a gift from God. She also describes the psychological conditions
of this state, in which, for the first time, the faculties of the
soul are "asleep". It is of short duration, but, while it lasts,
the soul is completely possessed by God.

SIXTH MANSIONS. In the Fifth Mansions the soul is, as it were,
betrothed to its future Spouse; in the Sixth, Lover and Beloved
see each other for long periods at a time, and as they grow in
intimacy the soul receives increasing favours, together with
increasing afflictions. The afflictions which give the description
of these Mansions its characteristic colour are dealt with in some
detail. They may be purely exterior -- bodily sickness;
misrepresentation, backbiting and persecution; undeserved praise;
inexperienced, timid or over-scrupulous spiritual direction. Or
they may come partly or wholly from within -- and the depression
which can afflict the soul in the Sixth Mansions, says St. Teresa,
is comparable only with the tortures of hell. Yet it has no desire
to be freed from them except by entering the innermost Mansions of
all.

SEVENTH MANSIONS. Here at last the soul reaches the Spiritual
Marriage. Here dwells the King -- "it may be called another
Heaven": the two lighted candles join and become one, the falling
rain becomes merged in the river. There is complete
transformation, ineffable and perfect peace; no higher state is
conceivable, save that of the Beatific Vision in the life to come.

While each of these seven Mansions is described with the greatest
possible clarity, St. Teresa makes it quite plain that she does
not regard her description as excluding others. Each of the series
of moradas (the use of the plural throughout, especially in the
title of each chapter, is noteworthy) may contain as many as a
million rooms; all matters connected with spiritual progress are
susceptible of numerous interpretations, for the grace of God
knows no limit or measure. Her description is based largely on her
own experience; and, though this has been found to correspond very
nearly with that of most other great mystics, there are various
divergences on points of detail. She never for a moment intended
her path to be followed undeviatingly and step by step, and of
this she is careful frequently to remind us.

At the end of this last, most mystical and most mature of her
books, St. Teresa invites all her daughters to enter the Interior
Castle, drawing a picturesque contrast between the material
poverty of the convents of the Reform and the spiritual luxuriance
and beauty of the Mansions -- where, as she delightfully puts it,
they can go as often as they please without needing to ask the
permission of their superiors. There is no doubt whatever that she
considered mystical experience to be within the reach of all her
daughters: we find this conviction enunciated in the nineteenth
chapter of the Way of perfection and repeated so frequently in the
Interior Castle that it is needless to give references. She does
not, of course, mean that every one of her nuns who prepares
herself as far as she can to receive mystical favours does in fact
receive them: she could not presume to pronounce upon the secret
judgments of God. But she evidently believes that, generally
speaking, infused contemplation is accessible to any Christian who
has the resolution to do all that in him lies towards obtaining
it.

It must not be forgotten that, notwithstanding the mystical
character of the greater part of the Interior Castle, it is also a
treasury of unforgettable maxims on such ascetic themes as self-
knowledge, humility, detachment and suffering. The finest of these
maxims alone would fill a book, and it would be as invidious as
self-indulgent to quote any of them here. Yet many have supposed
the Interior Castle to be concerned solely with raptures,
ecstasies and visions, with Illumination and Union; or to be a
work created by the imagination, instead of the record of a life.
There is no life more real than the interior life of the soul;
there is no writer who has a firmer hold on reality than St.
Teresa.

Sublime as is the Interior Castle, it would be difficult for any
conscientious student who practised what it taught to lose his way
in it. St. Teresa did not write it in any sense as a spiritual
autobiography or an account of the wonders which God's Spirit had
wrought in her soul -- still less as a literary work, a storehouse
of spiritual maxims or a treatise on psychology. She intended it
for the instruction of her own daughters and of all other souls
who, either in her own day or later, might have the ambition to
penetrate either the outer or the inner Mansions. At all times in
the history of Christian perfection there has been a dearth of
persons qualified to guide souls to the highest states of prayer:
the Interior Castle will both serve as an aid to those there are
and to a great extent supply the need for more.

The autograph of the Interior Castle is to be found in the convent
of the Discalced Carmelite nuns of Seville. When the book was
first written its author's intention was to divide it only into
seven main sections, or "Mansions", and not to make any
subdivision of these into chapters. But by the time the manuscript
was completed she had changed her mind, and, utilizing her
margins, she was able to subdivide each of the seven parts of the
book as she thought best. The titles of these sub-divisions she
wrote on a separate sheet and they have unfortunately been lost.
During her own lifetime, however, the nuns of her Toledo convent
made a copy of the book, including these titles, which me so
Teresan in style that their authenticity cannot for a moment be
doubted.7

From the note already referred to written by Graci�n in Ribera's
biography of St. Teresa we learn that the Interior Castle, on its
completion, was submitted to the closest scrutiny by himself and a
Dominican theologian, P. Yanguas, in the presence of the author.
The picture which he draws of these sessions is a memorable one.

I would take up numerous phrases in the book, saying that they did
not sound well to me, and Fray Diego would reply, while she (St.
Teresa) would tell us to expunge them. And we did expunge a few,
not because there was any erroneous teaching in them, but because
many would find them too advanced and too difficult to understand;
for such was the zeal of my affection for her that I tried to make
certain that there should be nothing in her writings which could
cause anyone to stumble.

These meetings took place in the parlour of the Discalced
Carmelite convent at Segovia during June and July 1580. It is
regrettable that Graci�n should not have described them in greater
detail, for, as she knew both her critics well enough to be quite
frank with them, and as her command of mystical theology was
stronger than theirs on the experiential side and weaker only on
the theoretical, many of her comments must have been well worthy
of preservation.

Few corrections, in actual fact, were made in the autograph and
none of them has any great doctrinal significance. It is a
striking thing that, at a time when such care had perforce to be
taken by writers on mystical theology, when false mystics of all
kinds were springing up continually and when the Inquisition was
therefore maintaining a greatly increased vigilance, so important
and so ambitious a work as this should need modifying only here
and there, merely to avoid the risk of misinterpretation by the
ill-informed or the hypercritical.

A few of the corrections, together with some erasures and marginal
additions, are in the hand of St. Teresa herself; the remainder,
including a few which have been incorrectly attributed to P.
Yanguas, were made by P. Graci�n. It would seem that Graci�n,
besides being the critic at these Segovian sessions, was also the
committee's secretary: that is to say, when the three had come to
an agreement about some alteration that had to be made, it was he
who would actually make it.

Some years later, the work of this committee was examined by
another critic, who took objection to many of the corrections,
including all those made by Graci�n, and restored the original
readings, adding to the first page of St. Teresa's manuscript a
short note which will be found on the corresponding page of this
edition.8 Both early and recent editors, without exception, have
believed this critic to have been Fray Luis de Le�n: its style and
content could not be more like that of St. Teresa's first editor
as we have it, for example, in the famous letter to the Carmelite
nuns of Madrid which he prefixed to his edition, but the
handwriting is certainly not that of Fray Luis. The note and the
additions are in fact the work of St. Teresa's biographer P.
Francisco de Ribera, whose concern for the fidelity with which her
writings should be reproduced we learn from the letter which he
wrote to M. Mar�a de Cristo, Vicaress of the Carmelite nuns at
Valladolid. As we have already said, Ribera had himself projected
a collected edition of St. Teresa's works, for which purpose he
borrowed the autographs of the Way of perfection and the Interior
Castle. There would therefore be no improbability in the
assumption of his having made these corrections; and a comparison
of them with manuscripts known to be his at the University of
Salamanca, the Royal Academy of History and elsewhere seems to put
the matter beyond doubt.

St. Teresa began the Interior Castle, as she herself tells us, on
Trinity Sunday (June 2), 1577. She was then in Toledo, where she
had been staying for nearly a year, but in July she left for St.
Joseph's, Avila, and it was there that she completed the book on
November 29 of the same year. When we remember the difficult times
through which the Reform was passing, the preoccupations of a
practical kind with which the Mother Foundress was continually
being assailed, and the large amount of time taken up by other
activities, and by the daily observance of her Rule, we may well
marvel at the serenity of mind which in so short a period could
produce a work of this length, containing some of the very finest
pages she ever wrote.

During the space of less than six months which elapsed between the
beginning of the book and its completion took place that change of
Nuncios which was so disastrous for the Reform, the transference
of St. Joseph's, Avila, from the jurisdiction of the Ordinary to
that of the Order and that stormy scene at the Incarnation when
the nuns endeavoured vainly to elect St. Teresa as their Prioress.
So it is not surprising that, as we learn from the fourth chapter
of the Fifth Mansions, "almost five months"9 out of the six had
gone by before she reached that chapter. As a Toledo nun copied
the book while the Saint wrote it, and had reached the second
chapter of the Fifth Mansions before she left for Avila, she would
seem to have worked hard at the book for the month or six weeks
which she spent at Toledo after beginning it and then to have done
nothing further unto late in October. This meant that the time
actually spent in writing was not six months, but less than three.

There is ample evidence as to the intensity with which St. Teresa
worked at the Interior Castle. It will suffice to quote one
witness. "At the time when our holy Mother was writing the book of
the Mansions at Toledo," deposed M. Mar�a del Nacimiento, "I often
saw her as she wrote, which was generally after Communion. She was
very radiant and wrote with great rapidity, and as a rule she was
so absorbed in her work that even if we made a noise she would
never stop, or so much as say that we were disturbing her."10 The
same nun, according to M. Mariana de los Angeles, once saw St.
Teresa caught in a rapture while she was writing the book and is
reported as asserting that she wrote a portion of it while in this
condition.11 This, however, is second-hand evidence, though it
tends to confirm the direct evidence. Not that even this can
always be trusted. Ana de la Encarnaci�n, for example, declares
that she saw St. Teresa writing the Interior Castle at Segovia,
which is next to impossible, for we know a great deal about the
Saint's movements during these years and there is no record of her
having been at Segovia in 1577.

When the book was written, St. Teresa entrusted it to the keeping
of P. Graci�n, who in his turn gave it for a time to M. Mar�a de
San Jose, Prioress of the Sevilian convent and a close friend of
the writer. In November 1581, we find her authorizing M. Mar�a to
read the chapters on the Seventh Mansions, under the seal of
confession, to a former confessor of her own, P. Rodrigo Alvarez.
"Read him the last Mansion," the letter runs, "and tell him that
that person (i.e., herself) has reached that point and has the
peace which goes with it".12 As we shall see, P. Alvarez left a
note on the manuscript attesting that the chapters in question had
been duly read to him and declaring that they were entirely
orthodox and in conformity with the teaching of the Saints.

Eventually P. Graci�n took back the manuscript, and, except for
short periods when it was lent to V. Ana de Jes�s for the
preparation of Luis de Le�n's edition, and, as already related, to
P. Ribera, he retained it for long after St. Teresa's death,
presenting it finally to a Sevilian gentleman who had been a great
benefactor of the Reform, Don Pedro Cerezo Pardo. When, in 1617,
this gentleman's daughter Catalina took the habit in the Sevilian
convent of the Reform, she brought the highly-prized manuscript as
part of her dowry. Thus by a strange concatenation of events the
autograph returned to the Sevilian house, where it has remained
ever since.

A few words may be added on the copies and editions of the
Interior Castle. The Toledo copy seems to be the oldest. It bears
the date 1577 -- which may refer to the year of the book's
composition but is generally supposed to indicate the year in
which the copy was made. The copyists were four nuns, one of whom,
as has been said, went as far as the second chapter of the Fifth
Mansions, the remainder of the work being shared by the other
three. The title given to the book by St. Teresa is placed at the
end of the fourth chapter and the copy ends with the table of
chapters and the summary of the contents of each chapter of which
the original is now lost. It is noteworthy that the first
amanuensis made no chapter-divisions, presumably because at that
time the autograph had none. Some of St. Teresa's additions are
not included and none of the corrections and glosses made by P.
Graci�n -- again, it must be supposed, because they were not then
in the autographs. All these facts point to the conclusion that
this copy was made as St. Teresa wrote, and that, when she left
Toledo for Avila, taking the unfinished autograph with her, she
left behind her an unfinished copy which was completed only at a
later date. As the corrections in Graci�n's hand were made in 1580
(Introduction, above), this date may be taken as falling between
1578 and 1580. Some critics believe that among the corrections in
this copy are a number made by St. Teresa herself. [P. Silverio,
however, does not share their opinion.]

An interesting copy, which belongs to the Discalced nuns of
C�rdoba, is that which was made by P. Graci�n before he disposed
of the autograph. The work is beautifully done in red and black
ink and nowhere is Graci�n's exquisite hand seen to better
advantage: indeed, the calligraphy rivals that of any professional
monastic copyist of the Middle Ages. The prologue and the epilogue
are omitted, the former possibly because of its allusive reference
to Graci�n himself. The titles given to the chapters by St. Teresa
are included. The copy makes a good many alterations, mainly
verbal, in the text, due probably to the repeated requests of St.
Teresa that, if it should ever be decided to print her writings,
he would polish and revise them.

The copy now in the University of Salamanca was made in 1588 by P.
Ribera and a Brother Antonio Arias at the College of the Society
of Jesus in that city. The date suggests that the autograph was
passed on to him after Luis de Le�n had finished with it. Of the
numerous other copies to be found in Carmelite houses the most
noteworthy are two which were made from the autograph by a
Discalced Carmelite, P. Tom�s de Aquino, in the eighteenth
century. One of these, used by La Fuente for his edition of 1861,
in the "Biblioteca de Autores Espa�oles", contains a critical
study from which the editor quotes.

Two editions -- one early and one comparatively recent -- merit
remark.

The earliest of all the editions, Luis de Le�n's (1588), rejects
Graci�n's emendations and respects only those in the handwriting
of St. Teresa. It makes, however a great many changes of its own,
mainly of a verbal kind, though such an omission as the reference
in Mansions V, iv to St. Ignatius of Loyola and the Society of
Jesus is a striking exception to this rule. The majority of Luis
de Le�n's modifications have not been adopted in this edition; a
few are referred to in the notes. Until La Fuente went to P. Tom�s
de Aquino's copy, the text of 1588 was followed by later editors
with but few modifications.

In commemoration of the third centenary of St. Teresa's death, the
Cardinal-Archbishop of Seville, a Carmelite of the Observance,
Fray Joaqu�n Lluch, published a photo-lithography edition of the
autograph which did a good deal to restore the respect due to it.
[P. Silverio's edition, however, is based on the autograph itself,
which he was able to study at Seville, so that past neglect of it
is now fully atoned for.]

INTERIOR CASTLE13

JHS.

FEW tasks which I have been commanded to undertake by obedience
have been so difficult as this present one of writing about
matters relating to prayer: for one reason, because I do not feel
that the Lord has given me either the spirituality or the desire
for it; for another, because for the last three months I have been
suffering from such noises and weakness in the head that I find it
troublesome to write even about necessary business. But, as I know
that strength arising from obedience has a way of simplifying
things which seem impossible, my will very gladly resolves to
attempt this task alhough the prospect seems to cause my physical
nature great distress; for the Lord has not given me strength
enough to enable me to wrestle continually both with sickness and
with occupations of many kinds without feeling a great physical
strain. May He Who has helped me by doing other and more difficult
things for me help also in this: in His mercy I put my trust.

I really think I have little to say that I have not already said
in other books which I have been commanded to write; indeed, I am
afraid that I shall do little but repeat myself, for I write as
mechanically14 as birds taught to speak, which, knowing nothing
but what is taught them and what they hear, repeat the same things
again and again. If the Lord wishes me to say anything new, His
Majesty will teach it me or be pleased to recall to my memory what
I have said on former occasions; and I should be quite satisfied
with this, for my memory is so bad that I should be delighted if I
could manage to write down a few of the things which people have
considered well said, so that they should not be lost. If the Lord
should not grant me as much as this, I shall still be the better
for having tried, even if this writing under obedience tires me
and makes my head worse, and if no one finds what I say of any
profit.

And so I begin to fulfil my obligation on this Day of the Holy
Trinity, in the year MDLXXVII,15 in this convent of St. Joseph of
Carmel in Toledo, where I am at this present, submitting myself as
regards all that I say to the judgment of those who have commanded
me to write, and who are persons of great learning. If I should
say anything that is not in conformity with what is held by the
Holy Roman Catholic Church,16 it will be through ignorance and not
through malice. This may be taken as certain, and also that,
through God's goodness, I am, and shall always be, as I always
have been, subject to her. May He be for ever blessed and
glorified. Amen.

I was told by the person who commanded me to write that, as the
nuns of these convents of Our Lady of Carmel need someone to solve
their difficulties concerning prayer, and as (or so it seemed to
him) women best understand each other's language, and also in view
of their love for me, anything I might say would be particularly
useful to them. For this reason he thought that it would be rather
important if I could explain things clearly to them and for this
reason it is they whom I shall be addressing in what I write --
and also because it seems ridiculous to think that I can be of any
use to anyone else. Our Lord will be granting me a great favour if
a single one of these nuns should find that my words help her to
praise Him ever so little better. His Majesty well knows that I
have no hope of doing more, and, if I am successful in anything
that I may say, they will of course understand that it does not
come from me. Their only excuse for crediting me with it could be
their having as little understanding as I have ability in these
matters if the Lord of His mercy does not grant it me.

FIRST MANSIONS

In which there are Two Chapters.

CHAPTER I

Treats of the beauty and dignity of our souls; makes a comparison
by the help of which this may be understood; describes the benefit
which comes from understanding it and being aware of the favours
which we receive from God; and shows how the door of this castle
is prayer.

WHILE I was beseeching Our Lord to-day that He would speak through
me, since I could find nothing to say and had no idea how to begin
to carry out the obligation laid upon me by obedience, a thought
occurred to me which I will now set down, in order to have some
foundation on which to build. I began to think of the soul as if
it were a castle made of a single diamond or of very clear
crystal, in which there are many rooms,17 just as in Heaven there
are many mansions.18 Now if we think carefully over this, sisters,
the soul of the righteous man is nothing but a paradise, in which,
as God tells us, He takes His delight.19 For what do you think a
room will be like which is the delight of a King so mighty, so
wise, so pure and so full of all that is good? I can find nothing
with which to compare the great beauty of a soul and its great
capacity. In fact, however acute our intellects may be, They will
no more be able to attain to a comprehension of this than to an
understanding of God; for, as He Himself says, He created us in
His image and likeness.20 Now if this is so -- and it is -- there
is no point in our fatiguing ourselves by attempting to comprehend
the beauty of this castle; for, though it is His creature, and
there is therefore as much difference between it and God as
between creature and Creator, the very fact that His Majesty says
it is made in His image means that we can hardly form any
conception of the soul's great dignity and beauty.21

It is no small pity, and should cause us no little shame, that,
through our own fault, we do not understand ourselves, or know who
we are. Would it not be a sign of great ignorance, my daughters,
if a person were asked who he was, and could not say, and had no
idea who his father or his mother was, or from what country he
came? Though that is great stupidity, our own is incomparably
greater if we make no attempt to discover what we are, and only
know that we are living in these bodies, and have a vague idea,
because we have heard it and because our Faith tells us so, that
we possess souls. As to what good qualities there may be in our
souls, or Who dwells within them, or how precious they are --
those are things which we seldom consider and so we trouble little
about carefully preserving the soul's beauty. All our interest is
centred in the rough setting of the diamond, and in the outer wall
of the castle -- that is to say, in these bodies of ours.

Let us now imagine that this castle, as I have said, contains many
mansions,22 some above, others below, others at each side; and in
the centre and midst of them all is the chiefest mansion where the
most secret things pass between God and the soul. You must think
over this comparison very carefully; perhaps God will be pleased
to use it to show you something of the favours which He is pleased
to grant to souls, and of the differences between them, so far as
I have understood this to be possible, for there are so many of
them that nobody can possibly understand them all, much less
anyone as stupid as I. If the Lord grants you these favours, it
will be a great consolation to you to know that such things are
possible; and, if you never receive any, you can still praise His
great goodness. For, as it does us no harm to think of the things
laid up for us in Heaven, and of the joys of the blessed, but
rather makes us rejoice and strive to attain those joys ourselves,
just so it will do us no harm to find that it is possible in this
our exile for so great a God to commune with such malodorous
worms, and to love Him for His great goodness and boundless mercy.
I am sure that anyone who finds it harmful to realize that it is
possible for God to grant such favours during this our exile must
be greatly lacking in humility and in love of his neighbour; for
otherwise how could we help rejoicing that God should grant these
favours to one of our brethren when this in no way hinders Him
from granting them to ourselves, and that His Majesty should
bestow an understanding of His greatness upon anyone soever?
Sometimes He will do this only to manifest His power, as He said
of the blind man to whom He gave his sight, when the Apostles
asked Him if he were suffering for his own sins or for the sins of
his parents.23 He grants these favours, then, not because those
who receive them are holier than those who do not, but in order
that His greatness may be made known, as we see in the case of
Saint Paul and the Magdalen, and in order that we may praise Him
in His creatures.

It may be said that these things seem impossible and that it is
better not to scandalize the weak. But less harm is done by their
disbelieving us than by our failing to edify those to whom God
grants these favours, and who will rejoice and will awaken others
to a fresh love of Him Who grants such mercies, according to the
greatness of His power and majesty. In any case I know that none
to whom I am speaking will run into this danger, because they all
know and believe that God grants still greater proofs of His love.
I am sure that, if any one of you does not believe this, she will
never learn it by experience. For God's will is that no bounds
should be set to His works. Never do such a thing, then, sisters,
if the Lord does not lead you by this road.

Now let us return to our beautiful and delightful castle and see
how we can enter it. I seem rather to be talking nonsense, for, if
this castle is the soul, there can clearly be no question of our
entering it. For we ourselves are the castle: and it would be
absurd to tell someone to enter a room when he was in it already!
But you must understand that there are many ways of "being" in a
place. Many souls remain in the outer court of the castle, which
is the place occupied by the guards; they are not interested in
entering it, and have no idea what there is in that wonderful
place, or who dwells in it, or even how many rooms it has. You
will have read certain books on prayer which advise the soul to
enter within itself: and that is exactly what this means.

A short time ago I was told by a very learned man that souls
without prayer are like people whose bodies or limbs are
paralysed: they possess feet and hands but they cannot control
them. In the same way, there are souls so infirm and so accustomed
to busying themselves with outside affairs that nothing can be
done for them, and it seems as though they are incapable of
entering within themselves at all. So accustomed have they grown
to living all the time with the reptiles and other creatures to be
found in the outer court of the castle that they have almost
become like them; and although by nature they are so richly
endowed as to have the power of holding converse with none other
than God Himself, there is nothing that can be done for them.
Unless they strive to realize their miserable condition and to
remedy it, they will be turned into pillars of salt for not
looking within themselves, just as Lot's wife was because she
looked back.24

As far as I can understand, the door of entry into this castle is
prayer and meditation: I do not say mental prayer rather than
vocal, for, if it is prayer at all, it must be accompanied by
meditation. If a person does not think Whom he is addressing, and
what he is asking for, and who it is that is asking and of Whom he
is asking it, I do not consider that he is praying at all even
though he be constantly moving his lips. True, it is sometimes
possible to pray without paying heed to these things, but that is
only because they have been thought about previously; if a man is
in the habit of speaking to God's Majesty as he would speak to his
slave, and never wonders if he is expressing himself properly, but
merely utters the words that come to his lips because he has
learned them by heart through constant repetition, I do not call
that prayer at all -- and God grant no Christian may ever speak to
Him so! At any rate, sisters, I hope in God that none of you will,
for we are accustomed here to talk about interior matters, and
that is a good way of keeping oneself from falling into such
animal-like habits.25

Let us say no more, then, of these paralysed souls, who, unless
the Lord Himself comes and commands them to rise, are like the man
who had lain beside the pool for thirty years:26 they are
unfortunate creatures and live in great peril. Let us rather think
of certain other souls, who do eventually enter the castle. These
are very much absorbed in worldly affairs; but their desires are
good; sometimes, though infrequently, they commend themselves to
Our Lord; and they think about the state of their souls, though
not very carefully. Full of a thousand preoccupations as they are,
they pray only a few times a month, and as a rule they are
thinking all the time of their preoccupations, for they are very
much attached to them, and, where their treasure is, there is
their heart also.27 From time to time, however, they shake their
minds free of them and it is a great thing that they should know
themselves well enough to realize that they are not going the
right way to reach the castle door. Eventually they enter the
first rooms on the lowest floor, but so many reptiles get in with
them that they are unable to appreciate the beauty of the castle
or to find any peace within it. Still, they have done a good deal
by entering at all.

You will think this is beside the point, daughters, since by the
goodness of the Lord you are not one of these. But you must be
patient, for there is no other way in which I can explain to you
some ideas I have had about certain interior matters concerning
prayer. May it please the Lord to enable me to say something about
them; for to explain to you what I should like is very difficult
unless you have had personal experience; and anyone with such
experience, as you will see, cannot help touching upon subjects
which, please God, shall, by His mercy, never concern us.

CHAPTER II

Describe the hideousness of a soul in mortal sin, some part of
which God was pleased to manifest to a certain person. Says
something also of self-knowledge. This chapter is profitable,
since it contains some noteworthy matters. Explains in what sense
the Mansions are to be understood.

BEFORE passing on, I want you to consider what will be the state
of this castle, so beautiful and resplendent this Orient pearl,
this tree of life, planted in the living waters of life28 --
namely, in God -- when the soul falls into a mortal sin. No
thicker darkness exists, and there is nothing dark and black which
is not much less so than this. You need know only one thing about
it -- that, although the Sun Himself, Who has given it all its
splendour and beauty, is still there in the centre of the soul, it
is as if He were not there for any participation which the soul
has in Him, though it is as capable of enjoying Him as is the
crystal of reflecting the sun. While in a state like this the soul
will find profit in nothing, and hence, being as it is in mortal
sin, none of the good works it may do will be of any avail29 to
win it glory; for they will not have their origin in that First
Principle, which is God, through Whom alone our virtue is true
virtue. And, since this soul has separated itself from Him, it
cannot be pleasing in His eyes; for, after all, the intention of a
person who commits a mortal sin is not to please Him but to give
pleasure to the devil; and, as the devil is darkness itself, the
poor soul becomes darkness itself likewise.

I know of a person30 to whom Our Lord wished to show what a soul
was like when it committed mortal sin. That person says that, if
people could understand this, she thinks they would find it
impossible to sin at all, and, rather than meet occasions of sin,
would put themselves to the greatest trouble imaginable. So she
was very anxious that everyone should realize this. May you be no
less anxious, daughters, to pray earnestly to God for those who
are in this state and who, with all their works, have become sheer
darkness. For, just as all the streamlets that flow from a clear
spring are as clear as the spring itself, so the works of a soul
in grace are pleasing in the eyes both of God and of men, since
they proceed from this spring of life, in which the soul is as a
tree planted. It would give no shade and yield no fruit if it
proceeded not thence, for the spring sustains it and prevents it
from drying up and causes it to produce good fruit. When the soul,
on the other hand, through its own fault, leaves this spring and
becomes rooted in a pool of pitch-black, evil-smelling water, it
produces nothing but misery and filth.

It should be noted here that it is not the spring, or the
brilliant sun which is in the centre of the soul, that loses its
splendour and beauty, for they are always within it and nothing
can take away their beauty. If a thick black cloth be placed over
a crystal in the sunshine, however, it is clear that, although the
sun may be shining upon it, its brightness will have no effect
upon the crystal.

O souls redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ! Learn to understand
yourselves and take pity on yourselves! Surely, if you understand
your own natures, it is impossible that you will not strive to
remove the pitch which blackens the crystal? Remember, if your
life were to end now, you would never enjoy this light again. O
Jesus! How sad it is to see a soul deprived of it! What a state
the poor rooms of the castle are in! How distracted are the senses
which inhabit them! And the faculties, which are their governors
and butlers and stewards -- how blind they are and how ill-
controlled! And yet, after all, what kind of fruit can one expect
to be borne by a tree rooted in the devil?

I once heard a spiritual man say that he was not so much
astonished at the things done by a soul in mortal sin as at the
things not done by it. May God, in His mercy, deliver us from such
great evil, for there is nothing in the whole of our lives that so
thoroughly deserves to be called evil as this, since it brings
endless and eternal evils in its train. It is of this, daughters,
that we should walk in fear, and this from which in our prayers we
must beg God to deliver us; for, if He keep not the city, we shall
labour in vain,31 since we are vanity itself. That person to whom
I referred just now said that the favour which God had granted her
had taught her too things: first, she had learned to have the
greatest fear of offending Him, for which reason she continually
begged Him not to allow her to fall, when she saw what legible
consequences a fall could bring; secondly, she had found it a
mirror of humility, for it had made her realize that any good
thing we do has its source, not in ourselves but rather in that
spring where this tree, which is the soul, is planted, and in that
sun which sheds its radiance on our works. She says that she saw
this so clearly that, whenever she did any good thing, or saw such
a thing done, she betook herself straightway to its Source,
realizing that without His help we are powerless. She then went on
at once to praise God; and, as a rule, when she did any good
action, she never gave a thought to herself at all.

If we can remember these two things, sisters, the time you have
spent in reading all this, and the time I have spent in writing
it, will not have been lost. Wise and learned men know them quite
well, but we women are slow and need instruction in everything. So
perhaps it may be the Lord's will that these comparisons shall be
brought to our notice. May He be pleased of His goodness to give
us grace to understand them.

These interior matters are so obscure to the mind that anyone with
as little learning as I will be sure to have to say many
superfluous and even irrelevant things in order to say a single
one that is to the point. The reader must have patience with me,
as I have with myself when writing about things of which I know
nothing; for really I sometimes take up my paper, like a perfect
fool, with no idea of what to say or of how to begin. I fully
realize how important it is for you that I should explain certain
interior matters to the best of my ability; for we continually
hear what a good thing prayer is, and our Constitutions oblige us
to engage in it for so many hours daily, yet they tell us nothing
beyond what we ourselves have to do and say very little about the
work done by the Lord in the soul -- I mean, supernatural work. As
I describe the things He does, and give various explanations of
them, it will be very helpful for us to think of this celestial
building which is within us and is so little understood by
mortals, although many of them frequent it. And although the Lord
has thrown some light upon many matters of which I have written, I
do not think I have understood some of them, especially the most
difficult, as well as I do now. The trouble, as I have said, is
that, before I can get to them, I shall have to explain many
things that are well known -- it is bound to be so when a person
is as stupid as I.

Let us now turn to our castle with its many mansions. You must not
imagine these mansions as arranged in a row, one behind another,
but fix your attention on the centre, the room or palace occupied
by the King. Think of a palmito,32 which has many outer rinds
surrounding the savoury part within, all of which must be taken
away before the centre can be eaten. Just so around this central
room are many more, as there also are above it. In speaking of the
soul we must always think of it as spacious, ample and lofty; and
this can be done without the least exaggeration, for the soul's
capacity is much greater than we can realize, and this Sun, Which
is in the palace, reaches every part of it. It is very important
that no soul which practises prayer, whether little or much,
should be subjected to undue constraint or limitation. Since God
has given it such dignity, it must be allowed to roam through
these mansions -- through those above, those below and those on
either side. It must not be compelled to remain for a long time in
one single room -- not, at least, unless it is in the room of
self-knowledge.33 How necessary that is (and be sure you
understand me here) even to those whom the Lord keeps in the same
mansion in which He Himself is! However high a state the soul may
have attained, self-knowledge is incumbent upon it, and this it
will never be able to neglect even should it so desire. Humility
must always be doing its work like a bee making its honey in the
hive: without humility all will be lost. Still, we should remember
that the bee is constantly flying about from flower to flower, and
in the same way, believe me, the soul must sometimes emerge from
self-knowledge and soar aloft in meditation upon the greatness and
the majesty of its God. Doing this will help it to realize its own
baseness better than thinking of its own nature, and it will be
freer from the reptiles which enter the first rooms -- that is,
the rooms of self-knowledge. For although, as I say, it is through
the abundant mercy of God that the soul studies to know itself,
yet one can have too much of a good thing, as the saying goes,34
and believe me, we shall reach much greater heights of virtue by
thinking upon the virtue of God than if we stay in our own little
plot of ground and tie ourselves down to it completely.

I do not know if I have explained this clearly: self-knowledge is
so important that, even if you were raised right up to the
heavens, I should like you never to relax your cultivation of it;
so long as we are on this earth, nothing matters more to us than
humility. And so I repeat that it is a very good thing --
excellent, indeed -- to begin by entering the room where humility
is acquired rather than by flying off to the other rooms. For that
is the way to make progress, and, if we have a safe, level road to
walk along, why should we desire wings to fly? Let us rather try
to get the greatest possible profit out of walking. As I see it,
we shall never succeed in knowing ourselves unless we seek to know
God: let us think of His greatness and then come back to our own
baseness; by looking at His purity we shall see our foulness; by
meditating upon His humility, we shall see how far we are from
being humble.

There are two advantages in this. First, it is clear that anything
white looks very much whiter against something black, just as the
black looks blacker against the white. Secondly, if we turn from
self towards God, our understanding and our will become nobler and
readier to embrace all that is good: if we never rise above the
slough of our own miseries we do ourselves a great disservice. We
were saying just now how black and noisome are the streams that
flow from souls in mortal sin. Similarly, although this is not the
same thing -- God forbid! It is only a comparison -- so long as we
are buried in the wretchedness of our earthly nature these streams
of ours will never disengage themselves from the slough of
cowardice, pusillanimity and fear. We shall always be glancing
around and saying: "Are people looking at me or not?" "If I take a
certain path shall I come to any harm?" "Dare I begin such and
such a task?" "Is it pride that is impelling me to do so?" "Can
anyone as wretched as I engage in so lofty an exercise as prayer?"
"Will people think better of me if I refrain from following the
crowd?" "For extremes are not good," they say, "even in virtue;
and I am such a sinner that if I were to fail I should only have
farther to fall; perhaps I shall make no progress and in that case
I shall only be doing good people harm; anyway, a person like
myself has no need to make herself singular."

Oh, God help my daughters, how many souls the devil must have
ruined in this way! They think that all these misgivings, and many
more that I could describe, arise from humility, whereas they
really come from our lack of self-knowledge. We get a distorted
idea of our own nature, and, if we never stop thinking about
ourselves, I am not surprised if we experience these fears and
others which are still worse. It is for this reason, daughters,
that I say we must set our eyes upon Christ our Good, from Whom we
shall learn true humility, and also upon His saints. Our
understanding, as I have said, will then be ennobled, and self-
knowledge will not make us timorous35 and fearful; for, although
this is only the first Mansion, it contains riches of great price,
and any who can elude the reptiles which are to be found in it
will not fail to go farther. Terrible are the crafts and wiles
which the devil uses to prevent souls from learning to know
themselves and understanding his ways.

With regard to these first Mansions I can give some very useful
information out of my own experience. I must tell you, for
example, to think of them as comprising not just a few rooms, but
a very large number.36 There are many ways in which souls enter
them, always with good intentions; but as the devil's intentions
are always very bad, he has many legions of evil spirits in each
room to prevent souls from passing from one to another, and as we,
poor souls, fail to realize this, we are tricked by all kinds of
deceptions. The devil is less successful with those who are nearer
the King's dwelling-place; but at this early stage, as the soul is
still absorbed in worldly affairs, engulfed in worldly pleasure
and puffed up with worldly honours and ambitions, its vassals,
which are the senses and the faculties given to it by God as part
of its nature, have not the same power, and such a soul is easily
vanquished, although it may desire not to offend God and may
perform good works. Those who find themselves in this state need
to take every opportunity of repairing to His Majesty, and to make
His blessed Mother their intercessor, and also His saints, so that
these may do battle for them, since their own servants have little
strength for defending themselves. In reality it is necessary in
every state of life for our help to come from God. May His Majesty
grant us this through His mercy. Amen.

How miserable is this life which we live! As I have said a great
deal elsewhere, daughters, about the harm which comes to us
through our not properly understanding this matter of humility and
self-knowledge, I am not saying more to you here, though it is a
matter of the greatest importance to us. May the Lord grant that
something I have said will be of use to you.

You must note that the light which comes from the palace occupied
by the King hardly reaches these first Mansions at all; for,
although they are not dark and black, as when the soul is in a
state of sin, they are to some extent darkened, so that they
cannot be seen (I mean by anyone who is in them); and this not
because of anything that is wrong with the room, but rather (I
hardly know how to explain myself) because there are so many bad
things -- snakes and vipers and poisonous creatures -- which have
come in with the soul that they prevent it from seeing the light.
It is as if one were to enter a place flooded by sunlight with his
eyes so full of dust37 that he could hardly open them. The room
itself is light enough, but he cannot enjoy the light because he
is prevented from doing so by these wild beasts and animals, which
force him to close his eyes to everything but themselves. This
seems to me to be the condition of a soul which, though not in a
bad state, is so completely absorbed in things of the world and so
deeply immersed, as I have said, in possessions or honours or
business, that, although as a matter of fact it would like to gaze
at the castle and enjoy its beauty, it is prevented from doing so,
and seems quite unable to free itself from all these impediments.
Everyone, however, who wishes to enter the second Mansions, will
be well advised, as far as his state of life permits, to try to
put aside all unnecessary affairs and business. For those who hope
to reach the principal Mansion, this is so important that unless
they begin in this way I do not believe they will ever be able to
get there. Nor, indeed, even though it has entered the castle, is
the soul free from great peril in the Mansion which it actually
inhabits; for, being among such poisonous things, it cannot, at
some time or another, escape being bitten by them.

What would happen, then, daughters, if those who, like ourselves,
are free from these obstacles, and have already entered much
farther into other secret mansions of the castle, should, through
their own fault, go out again into this hurly-burly? Our sins must
have led many people whom God has granted favours to relapse
through their faults into this wretched state. We here, so far as
outward things are concerned, are free; may it please the Lord to
make us free as regards inward things as well and to deliver us
from evil. Beware, my daughters, of cares which have nothing to do
with you. Remember that in few of the mansions of this castle are
we free from struggles with devils. It is true that in some of
them, the wardens, who, as I think I said, are the faculties, have
strength for the fight; but it is most important that we should
not cease to be watchful against the devil's wiles, lest he
deceive us in the guise of an angel of light. For there are a
multitude of ways in which he can deceive us, and gradually make
his way into the castle, and until he is actually there we do not
realize it.

As I told you before, he works like a noiseless file, and we must
be on the look-out for him from the beginning. In order to explain
this better I want to give you several illustrations. He inspires
a sister with yearnings to do penance, so that she seems to have
no peace save when she is torturing herself. This, in itself, is
good; but, if the prioress has ordered that no penance is to be
done without leave, and yet the sister thinks that she can venture
to persist in so beneficial a practice, and secretly orders her
life in such a way that in the end she ruins her health and is
unable to do what her Rule demands, you see what this apparently
good thing has led to. Another sister is inspired with zeal for
the greatest possible perfection. This, again, is a very good
thing; but the result of it might be that she would think any
little fault on the part of the sisters a serious failure, and
would always be looking out for such things and running to the
prioress about them; sometimes she might even be so zealous about
religious observances as to be unable to see her own faults; and
this the others, observing only her zeal about their misdeeds and
not understanding the excellence of her intentions, might well
take none too kindly.

The devil's aim here must not be made light of, for he is trying
to bring about a cooling of charity and love among the sisters,
and if he could do this he would be working a great deal of harm.
Let us realize, my daughters, that true perfection consists in the
love of God and of our neighbour, and the more nearly perfect is
our observance of these two commandments, the nearer to perfection
we shall be. Our entire Rule and Constitutions are nothing but
means which enable us to do this the more perfectly. Let us
refrain from indiscreet zeal, which may do us great harm: let each
one of you look to herself. As I have said a great deal to you
about this elsewhere38 I will not enlarge on it further.

This mutual love is so important for us that I should like you
never to forget it; for if the soul goes about looking for
trifling faults in others (which sometimes may not be
imperfections at all, though perhaps our ignorance may lead us to
make the worst of them) it may lose its own peace of mind and
perhaps disturb that of others. See, then, how dearly perfection
can be bought. The devil might also use this temptation in the
case of a prioress, and then it would be more dangerous still.
Much discretion is necessary here; for, if it were a question of
her contravening the Rule and Constitutions, it would not always
do to take a lenient view of the matter -- she would have to be
spoken to about it; and, if she did not then amend, the prelate
would have to be told: to do this would be a charity. This would
also apply to the sisters, where the fault was a grave one: to say
nothing through fear that taking the matter up would be yielding
to temptation would itself be to yield to temptation. However, to
prevent deception by the devil, it should be strongly stressed
that no sister must discuss such things with any other, for from
this practice the devil can pluck great advantage and start habits
of slander; these matters must be discussed, as I have said, only
with the person whose concern they are. Here, glory be to God, we
keep almost continuous silence, so that the opportunity does not
arise; none the less, it is well that we should be on our guard.

SECOND MANSIONS

In which there is One Chapter only.39

Treats of the great importance of perseverance if we are to reach
the final Mansions and of the fierce war which the devil wages
against us. Tells how essential it is, if we are to attain our
goal, not to miss our way at the beginning. Gives a method which
has proved very efficacious.

LET us now come to consider who the souls are that enter the
second Mansions and what they do there. I want to say very little
to you about this, because elsewhere I have written of it at
length,40 and it will be impossible for me to avoid repeating a
great deal of this, because I cannot remember anything of what I
said. If it could be arranged41 in a different form, I am quite
sure you would not mind, as we are never tired of books that treat
of this, numerous though they are.

This chapter has to do with those who have already begun to
practise prayer and who realize the importance of not remaining in
the first Mansions, but who often are not yet resolute enough to
leave those Mansions, and will not avoid occasions of sin, which
is a very perilous condition. But it is a very great mercy that
they should contrive to escape from the snakes and other poisonous
creatures, if only for short periods and should realize that it is
good to flee from them. In some ways, these souls have a much
harder time than those in the first Mansions; but they are in less
peril, for they seem now to understand their position and there is
great hope that they will get farther into the castle still. I say
they have a harder time because the souls in the first Mansions
are, as it were, not only dumb, but can hear nothing, and so it is
not such a trial to them to be unable to speak; the others, who
can hear and not speak, would find the trial much harder to bear.
But that is no reason for envying those who do not hear, for after
all it is a great thing to be able to understand what is said to
one.

These souls, then, can understand the Lord when He calls them;
for, as they gradually get nearer to the place where His Majesty
dwells, He becomes a very good Neighbour to them. And such are His
mercy and goodness that, even when we are engaged in our worldly
pastimes and businesses and pleasures and hagglings, when we are
falling into sins and rising from them again (because these
creatures are at once so venomous and so active and it is so
dangerous for us to be among them that it will be a miracle if we
escape stumbling over them and falling) -- in spite of all that,
this Lord of ours is so anxious that we should desire Him and
strive after His companionship that He calls us ceaselessly, time
after time, to approach Him; and this voice of His is so sweet
that the poor soul is consumed with grief at being unable to do
His bidding immediately, and thus, as I say, it suffers more than
if it could not hear Him.

I do not mean by this that He speaks to us and calls us in the
precise way which I shall describe later; His appeals come through
the conversations of good people, or from sermons, or through the
reading of good books; and there are many other ways, of which you
have heard, in which God calls us. Or they come through sicknesses
and trials, or by means of truths which God teaches us at times
when we are engaged in prayer; however feeble such prayers may be
God values them highly. You must not despise this first favour,
sisters, nor be disconsolate, even though you have not responded
immediately to the Lord's call; for His Majesty is quite prepared
to wait for many days, and even years, especially when He sees we
are persevering and have good desires. This is the most necessary
thing here; if we have this we cannot fail to gain greatly.
Nevertheless, the assault which the devils now make upon the soul,
in all kinds of ways, is terrible; and the soul suffers more than
in the preceding Mansions; for there it was deaf and dumb, or at
least it could hear very little, and so it offered less
resistance, like one who to a great extent has lost hope of
gaining the victory. Here the understanding is keener and the
faculties are more alert, while the clash of arms and the noise of
cannon are so loud that the soul cannot help hearing them. For
here the devils once more show the soul these vipers -- that is,
the things of the world -- and they pretend that earthly pleasures
are almost eternal: they remind the soul of the esteem in which it
is held in the world, of its friends and relatives, of the way in
which its health will be endangered by penances (which the soul
always wants to do when it first enters this Mansion) and of
impediments of a thousand other kinds.

Oh, Jesus! What confusion the devils bring about in the poor soul,
and how distressed it is, not knowing if it ought to proceed
farther or return to the room where it was before! On the other
hand, reason tells the soul how mistaken it is in thinking that
all these earthly things are of the slightest value by comparison
with what it is seeking, faith instructs it in what it must do to
find satisfaction; memory shows it how all these things come to an
end, and reminds it that those who have derived so much enjoyment
from the things which it has seen have died. Sometimes they have
died suddenly and been quickly forgotten by all: people whom we
once knew to be very prosperous are now beneath the ground, and we
trample upon their graves, and often, as we pass them, we reflect
that their bodies are seething with worms -- of these and many
other things the soul is reminded by memory. The will inclines to
love One in Whom it has seen so many acts and signs of love, some
of which it would like to return. In particular, the will shows
the soul how this true Lover never leaves it, but goes with it
everywhere and gives it life and being. Then the understanding
comes forward and makes the soul realize that, for however many
years it may live, it can never hope to have a better friend, for
the world is full of falsehood and these pleasures which the devil
pictures to it are accompanied by trials and cares and annoyances;
and tells it to be certain that outside this castle it will find
neither security nor peace: let it refrain from visiting one house
after another when its own house is full of good things, if it
will only enjoy them. How fortunate it is to be able to find all
that it needs, as it were, at home, especially when it has a Host
Who will put all good things into its possession, unless, like the
Prodigal Son, it desires to go astray and eat the food of the
swine!42

It is reflections of this kind which vanquish devils. But, oh, my
God and Lord, how everything is ruined by the vain habits we fall
into and the way everyone else follows them! So dead is our faith
that we desire what we see more than what faith tells us about --
though what we actually see is that people who pursue these
visible things meet with nothing but ill fortune. All this is the
work of these poisonous creatures which we have been describing.
For, if a man is bitten by a viper, his whole body is poisoned and
swells up; and so it is in this case, and yet we take no care of
ourselves. Obviously a great deal of attention will be necessary
if we are to be cured and only the great mercy of God will
preserve us from death. The soul will certainly suffer great
trials at this time, especially if the devil sees that its
character and habits are such that it is ready to make further
progress: all the powers of hell will combine to drive it back
again.

Ah, my Lord! It is here that we have need of Thine aid, without
which we can do nothing. Of Thy mercy, allow not this soul to be
deluded and led astray when its journey is but begun. Give it
light so that it may see how all its welfare consists in this and
may flee from evil companionship. It is a very great thing for a
person to associate with others who are walking in the right way:
to mix, not only with those whom he sees in the rooms where he
himself is, but with those whom he knows to have entered the rooms
nearer the centre, for they will be of great help to him and he
can get into such close touch with them that they will take him
with them. Let him have a fixed determination not to allow himself
to be beaten, for, if the devil sees that he has firmly resolved
to lose his life and his peace and everything that he can offer
him rather than to return to the first room, he will very soon
cease troubling him. Let him play the man and not be like those
who went down on their knees in order to drink when they went to
battle -- I forget with whom43 -- but let him be resolute, for he
is going forth to fight with an the devils and there are no better
weapons than the Cross.

There is one thing so important that, although I have said it on
other occasions,44 I will repeat it once more here: it is that at
the beginning one must not think of such things as spiritual
favours, for that is a very poor way of starting to build such a
large and beautiful edifice. If it is begun upon sand, it will all
collapse:45 souls which build like that will never be free from
annoyances and temptations. For it is not in these Mansions, but
in those which are farther on, that it rains manna; once there,
the soul has all that it desires, because it desires only what is
the will of God. It is a curious thing: here we are, meeting with
hindrances and suffering from imperfections by the thousand, with
our virtues so young that they have not yet learned how to walk --
in fact, they have only just been born: God grant that they have
even been born at all! -- and yet we are not ashamed to be wanting
consolations in prayer and to be complaining about periods of
aridity. This must not be true of you, sisters: embrace the Cross
which your Spouse bore upon His shoulders and realize that this
Cross is yours to carry too: let her who is capable of the
greatest suffering suffer most for Him and she will have the most
perfect freedom. All other things are of quite secondary
importance: if the Lord should grant them to you, give Him
heartfelt thanks.

You may think that you will be full of determination to resist
outward trials if God will only grant you inward favours. His
Majesty knows best what is suitable for us; it is not for us to
advise Him what to give us, for He can rightly reply that we know
not what we ask.46 All that the beginner in prayer has to do --
and you must not forget this, for it is very important -- is to
labour and be resolute and prepare himself with all possible
diligence to bring his will into conformity with the will of God.
As I shall say later, you may be quite sure that this comprises
the very greatest perfection which can be attained on the
spiritual road. The more perfectly a person practises it, the more
he will receive of the Lord and the greater the progress he will
make on this road; do not think we have to use strange jargon or
dabble in things of which we have no knowledge or understanding,
our entire welfare is to be found in what I have described. If we
go astray at the very beginning and want the Lord to do our will
and to lead us just as our fancy dictates, how can this building
possibly have a firm foundation? Let us see that we do as much as
in us lies and avoid these venomous reptiles, for often it is the
Lord's will that we should be persecuted and afflicted by evil
thoughts, which we cannot cast out, and also by aridities; and
sometimes He even allows these reptiles to bite us, so that we may
learn better how to be on our guard in the future and see if we
are really grieved at having offended Him.

If, then, you sometimes fail, do not lose heart, or cease striving
to make progress, for even out of your fall God will bring good,
just as a man selling an antidote will drink poison before he
takes it in order to prove its power. If nothing else could show
us what wretched creatures we are and what harm we do to ourselves
by dissipating our desires, this war which goes on within us would
be sufficient to do so and to lead us back to recollection. Can
any evil be greater than the evil which we find in our own house?
What hope can we have of being able to rest in other people's
homes47 if we cannot rest in our own? For none of our friends and
relatives are as near to us as our faculties, with which we have
always to live, whether we like it or not, and yet our faculties
seem to be making war upon us, as if they were resentful of the
war made upon them by our vices. "Peace, peace," said the Lord, my
sisters, and many a time He spoke words of peace to His
Apostles.48 Believe me, unless we have peace, and strive for peace
in our own home, we shall not find it in the homes of others. Let
this war now cease. By the blood which Christ shed for us, I beg
this of those who have not begun to enter within themselves; and
those who have begun to do so must not allow such warfare to turn
them back. They must realize that to fall a second time is worse
than to fall once. They can see that it will lead them to ruin:
let them place their trust, not in themselves, but in the mercy of
God, and they will see how His Majesty can lead them on from one
group of Mansions to another and set them on safe ground where
these beasts cannot harass or hurt them, for He will place the
beasts in their power and laugh them to scorn; and then they
themselves -- even in this life, I mean -- will enjoy many more
good things than they could ever desire.

As I said first of all, I have already written to you about how
you ought to behave when you have to suffer these disturbances
with which the devil torments you;49 and about how recollection
cannot be begun by making strenuous efforts, but must come gently,
after which you will be able to practise it for longer periods at
a time. So I will say no more about this now, except that it is
very important for you to consult people of experience; for
otherwise you will imagine that you are doing yourselves great
harm by pursuing your necessary occupations. But, provided we do
not abandon our prayer, the Lord will turn everything we do to our
profit, even though we may find no one to teach us. There is no
remedy for this evil of which we have been speaking except to
start again at the beginning; otherwise the soul will keep on
losing a little more every day -- please God that it may come to
realize this.

Some of you might suppose that, if it is such a bad thing to turn
back, it would have been better never to have begun, but to have
remained outside the castle. I told you, however, at the outset,
and the Lord Himself says this, that he who goes into danger shall
perish in it,50 and that the door by which we can enter this
castle is prayer. It is absurd to think that we can enter Heaven
without first entering our own souls -- without getting to know
ourselves, and reflecting upon the wretchedness of our nature and
what we owe to God, and continually imploring His mercy. The Lord
Himself says: "No one will ascend to My Father, but by Me"51 (I am
not sure if those are the exact words, but I think they are)52 and
"He that sees Me sees My Father."53 Well, if we never look at Him
or think of what we owe Him, and of the death which He suffered
for our sakes, I do not see how we can get to know Him or do good
works in His service. For what can be the value of faith without
works, or of works which are not united with the merits of our
Lord Jesus Christ? And what but such thoughts can arouse us to
love this Lord? May it please His Majesty to grant us to
understand how much we cost Him, that the servant is not greater
than his Lord,54 that we must needs work if we would enjoy His
glory, and that for that reason we must perforce pray, lest we
enter continually into temptation.55

THIRD MANSIONS

In which there are Two Chapters.

CHAPTER I

Treats of the insecurity from which we cannot escape in this life
of exile, however lofty a state we may reach, and of how good it
is for us to walk in fear. This chapter contains several good
points.

TO those who by the mercy of God have overcome in these combats,
and by dint of perseverance have entered the third Mansions, what
shall we say but "Blessed is the man that feareth the Lord"?56 As
I am so stupid in these matters, it has been no small thing that
His Majesty should have enabled me to understand the meaning of
this verse in the vernacular. We shall certainly be right in
calling such a man blessed, for, unless he turns back, he is, so
far as we can tell, on the straight road to salvation. Here,
sisters, you will see the importance of having overcome in your
past battles; for I am convinced that the Lord never fails to give
a person who does this security of conscience, which is no small
blessing. I say "security", but that is the wrong word, for there
is no security in this life, so, whenever I use it, you must
understand the words "unless he strays from the path on which he
has set out".

It is really a perfect misery to be alive when we have always to
be going about like men with enemies at their gates, who cannot
lay aside their arms even when sleeping or eating, and are always
afraid of being surprised by a breaching of their fortress in some
weak spot. Oh, my Lord and my God! How canst Thou wish us to
desire such a miserable life as that? It would be impossible to
refrain from wishing and begging Thee to take us from it, were it
not for our hope that we may lose it for Thy sake, or spend it
wholly in Thy service -- and, above all, for the realization that
it is Thy will for us. If that is indeed so, my God, let us die
with Thee, as Saint Thomas said,57 for life without Thee is
nothing but death many times over and constant dread at the
possibility of losing Thee for ever. So I think, daughters, that
the happiness we should pray for is to enjoy the complete security
of the blessed;58 for what pleasure can anyone have when beset by
these fears if his only pleasure consists in pleasing God?
Remember that all this, and much more, could be said of some of
the saints, and yet they fell59 into grave sins, and we cannot be
certain that God will give us His hand and help us to renounce
them60 and do penance for them. (This refers to particular
help.)61

Truly, my daughters, I am so fearful as I write this that, when it
comes to my mind, as is very often the case, I hardly know how to
get the words down, or how to go on living. Beseech His Majesty,
my daughters, always to live within me, for otherwise what
security can there be in a life as misspent as mine? And do not
let it depress you to realize that I am like that -- I have
sometimes seen you depressed when I have told you so. The reason
it affects you in that way is that you would like to think I had
been very holy. That is quite right of you: I should like to think
so myself. But what can I do about it when I have lost so much
through my own fault? I shall not complain that God ceased giving
me all the help I needed if your wishes were to be fulfilled: I
cannot say this without tears and great confusion when I realize
that I am writing for those who are themselves capable of teaching
me. Rigorous has been the task that obedience has laid upon me!62
May it please the Lord that, as it is being done for His sake, you
may gain some profit from it and may ask Him to pardon this
wretched and foolhardy woman. But His Majesty well knows that I
can count only upon His Mercy, and, as I cannot help having been
what I have, there is nothing for me to do but approach God and
trust in the merits of His Son, and of the Virgin, His Mother,
whose habit both you and I unworthily wear. Praise Him, my
daughters, for you are really the daughters of Our Lady, and when
you have as good a Mother as that there is no reason for you to be
scandalized at my unworthiness. Imitate Our Lady and consider how
great she must be and what a good thing it is that we have her for
our Patroness; even my sins and my being what I am have not been
sufficient to bring any kind of tarnish upon this sacred Order.

But of one thing I must warn you: although you are in this Order,
and have such a Mother, do not be too sure of yourselves; for
David was a very holy man, yet you know what Solomon63 became. Nor
must you set store by the fact that you are cloistered and lead
lives of penitence. Nor must you become confident because you are
always talking about God, continually engaging in prayer,
withdrawing yourselves completely from the things of this world
and (to the best of your belief) abhorring them. All that is good,
but, as I have said, it is not enough to justify us in laying
aside our fears. So you must repeat this verse and often bear it
in mind: Beatus vir, qui timet Dominum.64

And now I forget what I was saying -- I have been indulging in a
long digression. Whenever I think of myself I feel like a bird
with a broken wing and I can say nothing of any value. So I will
leave all this for now and return to what I had begun to explain
concerning the souls that have entered the third Mansions. In
enabling these souls to overcome their initial difficulties, the
Lord has granted them no small favour, but a very great one. I
believe that, through His goodness, there are many such souls in
the world: they are most desirous not to offend His Majesty; they
avoid committing even venial sins;65 they love doing penance, they
spend hours in recollection; they use their time well; they
practise works of charity toward their neighbours; and they are
very careful in their speech and dress and in the government of
their household if they have one. This is certainly a desirable
state and there seems no reason why they should be denied entrance
to the very last of the Mansions; nor will the Lord deny them this
if they desire it, for their disposition is such that He will
grant them any favour.

Oh, Jesus! How could anyone ever say that he has no desire for
such a wonderful thing, especially when he has got over the most
troublesome stages leading to it? Surely no one could do so. We
all say we desire it; but if the Lord is to take complete
possession of the soul more than that is necessary. Words are not
enough, any more than they were for the young man when the Lord
told him what to do if he wished to be perfect.66 Ever since I
began to speak of these Mansions I have had that young man in
mind, for we are exactly like him; and this as a rule is the
origin of our long periods of aridity in prayer, although these
have other sources as well. I am saying nothing here of interior
trials, which vex many good souls to an intolerable degree, and
through no fault of their own, but from which the Lord always
rescues them, to their great profit, as He does also those who
suffer from melancholy and other infirmities. In all things we
must leave out of account the judgments of God.

Personally, I think that what I have said is the most usual thing.
These souls know that nothing would induce them to commit a sin --
many of them would not intentionally commit even a venial sin --
and they make good use of their lives and their possessions. So
they cannot be patient when the door is closed to them and they
are unable to enter the presence of the King, Whose vassals they
consider themselves, and in fact are. Yet even on earth a king may
have many vassals and they do not all get so far as to enter his
chamber. Enter, then, enter within yourselves, my daughters; and
get right away from your own trifling good works, for these you
are bound, as Christians, to perform, and, indeed, many more. It
will be enough for you that you are vassals of God; do not try to
get so much that you achieve nothing. Look at the saints who have
entered the King's chamber and you will see the difference between
them and ourselves. Do not ask for what you have not deserved. For
we have offended God, and, however faithfully we serve Him, it
should never enter our heads that we can deserve anything.

Oh, humility, humility! I do not know why I have this temptation,
but whenever I hear people making so much of their times of
aridity, I cannot help thinking that they are somewhat lacking in
it. I am not, of course, referring to the great interior trials of
which I have spoken, for they amount to much more than a lack of
devotion. Let us test ourselves, my sisters, or allow the Lord to
test us; for He knows well how to do it, although often we refuse
to understand Him. And now let us return to these carefully-
ordered souls and consider what they do for God, and we shall then
see how wrong we are to complain of His Majesty. For, if, when He
tells us what we must do in order to be perfect, we turn our backs
upon Him and go away sorrowfully, like the young man in the
Gospel,67 what do you expect His Majesty to do, for the reward
which He is to give us must of necessity be proportionate with the
love which we bear Him? And this love, daughters, must not be
wrought in our imagination but must be proved by works. Yet do not
suppose God has any need of our works; what He needs is the
resoluteness of our will.

It may seem to us that we have done everything -- we who wear the
religious habit, having taken it of our own will and left all the
things of the world and all that we had for His sake (for
although, like Saint Peter, we may have left only our nets, yet He
esteems a person who gives all that he has as one who gives in
fullest measure).68 This is a very good beginning; and, if we
persevere in it, instead of going back, even if only in desire, to
consort with the reptiles in the first rooms, there is no doubt
that, by persevering in this detachment and abandonment of
everything, we shall attain our object. But it must be on this
condition -- and note that I am warning you of this -- that we
consider ourselves unprofitable servants, as we are told, either
by Saint Paul or by Christ,69 and realize that we have in no way
obliged Our Lord to grant us such favours; but rather that, the
more we have received of Him, the more deeply do we remain in His
debt. What can we do for so generous a God, Who died for us and
created us and gives us being, without counting ourselves
fortunate in being able to repay Him something of what we owe Him
for the way He has served us70 (I write this word reluctantly, but
it is the truth,71 for all the time He lived in the world He did
nothing but serve) without asking Him once more for gifts and
favours?

Consider carefully, daughters, these few things which have been
set down here, though they are in rather a jumbled state, for I
cannot explain them better; the Lord will make them clear to you,
so that these periods of aridity may teach you to be humble, and
not make you restless, which is the aim of the devil. Be sure
that, where there is true humility, even if God never grants the
soul favours, He will give it peace and resignation to His will,
with which it may be more content than others are with favours.
For often, as you have read, it is to the weakest that His Divine
Majesty gives favours, which I believe they would not exchange for
all the fortitude given to those who go forward in aridity. We are
fonder of spiritual sweetness than of crosses. Test us, O Lord,
Thou Who knowest all truth, that we may know ourselves.

CHAPTER II

Continues the same subject and treats of aridities in prayer and
of what the author thinks may result from them; and of how we must
test ourselves; and of how the Lord proves those who are in these
Mansions.

I HAVE known a few souls who have reached this state -- I think I
might even say a great many -- and who, as far as we can see, have
for many years lived an upright and carefully ordered life, both
in soul and in body and then, after all these years, when it has
seemed as if they must have gained the mastery over the world, or
at least must be completely detached from it, His Majesty has sent
them tests which have been by no means exacting and they have
become so restless and depressed in spirit that they have
exasperated me,72 and have even made me thoroughly afraid for
them. It is of no use offering them advice, for they have been
practising virtue for so long that they think they are capable of
teaching others and have ample justification for feeling as they
do.

Well, I cannot find, and have never found, any way of comforting
such people, except to express great sorrow at their trouble,
which, when I see them so miserable, I really do feel. It is
useless to argue with them, for they brood over their woes and
make up their minds that they are suffering for God's sake, and
thus never really understand that it is all due to their own
imperfection. And in persons who have made so much progress this
is a further mistake; one cannot be surprised if they suffer,
though I think this kind of suffering ought to pass quickly. For
often it is God's will that His elect should be conscious of their
misery and so He withdraws His help from them a little -- and no
more than that is needed to make us recognize our limitations very
quickly. They then realize that this is a way of testing them, for
they gain a clear perception of their shortcomings, and sometimes
they derive more pain from finding that, in spite of themselves,
they are still grieving about earthly things, and not very
important things either, than from the matter which is troubling
them. This, I think, is a great mercy on the part of God, and even
though they are at fault they gain a great deal in humility.

With those other persons of whom I am speaking it is different:
they consider they have acted in a highly virtuous way, as I have
said, and they wish others to think so too. I will tell you about
some of them so that we may learn to understand and test ourselves
before we are tested by the Lord -- and it would be a very great
advantage if we were prepared and had learned to know ourselves
first.

A rich man, who is childless and has no one to leave his money to,
loses part of his wealth; but not so much that he has not enough
for himself and his household -- he still has enough and to spare.
If he begins to get restless and worried, as though he had not a
crust of bread left to eat, how can Our Lord ask him to leave all
for His sake? It may be, of course, that he is suffering because
he wants to give the money to the poor. But I think God would
rather I were resigned to what His Majesty does, and kept my
tranquillity of soul, than that I should do such acts of charity
as these. If this man cannot resign himself, because the Lord has
not led him thus far, well and good; but he ought to realize that
he lacks this freedom of spirit and in that case he will pray for
it and prepare himself for the Lord to give it to him.

Another person, who has means enough to support himself, and
indeed an excess of means, sees an opportunity of acquiring more
property. Let him take such an opportunity, certainly, if it comes
to him; but if he strives after it, and, on obtaining it, strives
after more and more, however good his intention may be (and good
it must be, because, as I have said, these are all virtuous people
and given to prayer), he need not be afraid that he will ever
ascend73 to the Mansions which are nearest the King.

It is much the same thing if such people are despised in any way
or lose some of their reputation. God often grants them grace to
bear this well, for He loves to help people to be virtuous in the
presence of others, so that the virtue itself which they possess
may not be thought less of, or perhaps He will help them because
they have served Him, for this our God is good indeed. And yet
they become restless, for they cannot do as they would like to and
control their feelings all at once. Yet oh, dear me! Are not these
the same persons who some time ago were meditating upon how the
Lord suffered, and upon what a good thing it is to suffer, and who
were even desiring to suffer? They would like every one else to
live as well-ordered a life as they do themselves; all we can hope
is that they will not begin to imagine that the trouble they have
is somebody else's fault and represent it to themselves as
meritorious.

You will think, sisters, that I am wandering from the point, and
am no longer addressing myself to you, and that these things have
nothing to do with us, as we own no property and neither desire it
nor strive after it and nobody ever slights us. It is true that
these examples are not exactly applicable to us, but many others
which are can be deduced from them, though it is unnecessary, and
would be unseemly, for me to detail them. From these you will find
out if you are really detached from the things you have abandoned,
for trifling incidents arise, though not precisely of this kind,
which give you the opportunity to test yourselves and discover if
you have obtained the mastery over your passions. And believe me,
what matters is not whether or no we wear a religious habit; it is
whether we try to practise the virtues, and make a complete
surrender of our wills to God and order our lives as His Majesty
ordains: let us desire that not our wills, but His will, be
done.74 If we have not progressed as far as this, then, as I have
said, let us practise humility, which is the ointment for our
wounds; if we are truly humble, God, the Physician,75 will come in
due course, even though He tarry, to heal us.

The penances done by these persons are as carefully ordered as
their lives. They have a great desire for penance, so that by
means of it they may serve Our Lord -- and there is nothing wrong
in that -- and for this reason they observe great discretion in
their penances, lest they should injure their health. You need
never fear that they will kill themselves: they are eminently
reasonable folk! Their love is not yet ardent enough to overwhelm
their reason. How I wish ours would make us dissatisfied with this
habit of always serving God at a snail's pace! As long as we do
that we shall never get to the end of the road. And as we seem to
be walking along and getting fatigued all the time -- for, believe
me, it is an exhausting road -- we shall be very lucky if we
escape getting lost. Do you think, daughters, if we could get from
one country to another in a week, it would be advisable, with all
the winds and snow and floods and bad roads, to take a year over
it? Would it not be better to get the journey over and done with?
For there are all these obstacles for us to meet and there is also
the danger of serpents. Oh, what a lot I could tell you about
that! Please God I have got farther than this myself -- though I
often fear I have not!

When we proceed with all this caution, we find stumbling-blocks
everywhere; for we are afraid of everything, and so dare not go
farther, as if we could arrive at these Mansions by letting others
make the journey for us! That is not possible, my sisters; so, for
the love of the Lord, let us make a real effort: let us leave our
reason and our fears in His hands and let us forget the weakness
of our nature which is apt to cause us so much worry. Let our
superiors see to the care of our bodies; that must be their
concern: our own task is only to journey with good speed so that
we may see the Lord. Although we get few or no comforts here, we
shall be making a great mistake if we worry over our health,
especially as it will not be improved by our anxiety about it --
that I well know. I know, too, that our progress has nothing to do
with the body, which is the thing that matters least. What the
journey which I am referring to demands is great humility, and it
is the lack of this, I think, if you see what I mean, which
prevents us from making progress. We may think we have advanced
only a few steps, and we should believe that this is so and that
our sisters' progress is much more rapid; and further we should
not only want them to consider us worse than anyone else, but we
should contrive to make them do so.

If we act thus, this state is a most excellent one, but otherwise
we shall spend our whole lives in it and suffer a thousand
troubles and miseries. Without complete self-renunciation, the
state is very arduous and oppressive, because, as we go along, we
are labouring under the burden of our miserable nature, which is
like a great load of earth and has not to be borne by those who
reach the later Mansions. In these present Mansions the Lord does
not fail to recompense us with just measure, and even generously,
for He always gives us much more than we deserve by granting us a
spiritual sweetness much greater than we can obtain from the
pleasures and distractions of this life. But I do not think that
He gives many consolations, except when He occasionally invites us
to see what is happening in the remaining Mansions, so that we may
prepare to enter them.

You will think that spiritual sweetness and consolations are one
and the same thing: why, then, this difference of name? To me it
seems that they differ a very great deal, though I may be wrong. I
will tell you what I think about this when I write about the
fourth Mansions, which will follow these, because, as I shall then
have to say something about the consolations which the Lord gives
in those Mansions, it will come more appropriately. The subject
will seem an unprofitable one, yet none the less it may be of some
use, for, once you understand the nature of each, you can strive
to pursue the one which is better. This latter is a great solace
to souls whom God has brought so far, while it will make those who
think they have everything feel ashamed; and if they are humble
they will be moved to give thanks. Should they fail to experience
it, they will feel an inward discouragement -- quite
unnecessarily, however, for perfection consists not in
consolations, but in the increase of love; on this, too, will
depend our reward, as well as on the righteousness and truth which
are in our actions.

If this is true -- and it is -- you will wonder what is the use of
my discussing these interior favours, and explaining what they
are. I do not know: you must ask the person who commanded me to
write, for I am under an obligation not to dispute with my
superiors, but to obey them, and it would not be right for me to
dispute with them. What I can tell you truly is that, when I had
had none of these favours, and knew nothing of them by experience,
and indeed never expected to know about them all my life long (and
rightly so, though it would have been the greatest joy for me to
know, or even to conjecture, that I was in any way pleasing to
God), none the less, when I read in books of these favours and
consolations which the Lord grants to souls that serve Him, it
would give me the greatest pleasure and lead my soul to offer
fervent praises to God. Now if I, who am so worthless a person,
did that, surely those who are good and humble will praise Him
much more. If it only enables a single person to praise Him once,
I think it is a good thing that all this should be said, and that
we should realize what pleasure and what delights we lose through
our own fault. All the more so because, if they come from God,
they come laden with love and fortitude, by the help of which a
soul can progress with less labour and grow continually in good
works and virtues. Do not suppose that it matters little whether
or no we do what we can to obtain them. But if the fault is not
yours, the Lord is just, and what His Majesty denies you in this
way He will give you in other ways -- His Majesty knows how. His
secrets are hidden deep; but all that He does will be best for us,
without the slightest doubt.

What I think would be of the greatest profit to those of us who,
by the goodness of the Lord, are in this state -- and, as I have
said, He shows them no little mercy in bringing them to it, for,
when here, they are on the point of rising still higher -- is that
they should be most studious to render ready obedience. Even
though they be not in a religious Order, it would be a great thing
for them to have someone to whom they could go, as many people do,
so that they might not be following their own will in anything,
for it is in this way that we usually do ourselves harm. They
should not look for anyone (as the saying has it) cast in the same
mould as themselves76 who always proceeds with great
circumspection; they should select a man who is completely
disillusioned with the things of the world. It is a great
advantage for us to be able to consult someone who knows us, so
that we may learn to know ourselves. And it is a great
encouragement to see that things which we thought impossible are
possible to others, and how easily these others do them. It makes
us feel that we may emulate their flights and venture to fly
ourselves, as the young birds do when their parents teach them;
they are not yet ready for great flights but they gradually learn
to imitate their parents. This is a great advantage, as I know.
However determined such persons may be not to offend the Lord,
they will do well not to run any risk of offending Him; for they
are so near the first Mansions that they might easily return to
them, since their fortitude is not built upon solid ground like
that of souls who are already practised in suffering. These last
are familiar with the storms of the world, and realize how little
need there is to fear them or to desire worldly pleasures. If
those of whom I am speaking, however, had to suffer great
persecutions, they might well return to such pleasures and the
devil well knows how to contrive such persecutions in order to do
us harm; they might be pressing onward with great zeal, and trying
to preserve others from sin, and yet be unable to resist any
temptations which came to them.

Let us look at our own shortcomings and leave other people's
alone; for those who live carefully ordered lives are apt to be
shocked at everything and we might well learn very important
lessons from the persons who shock us. Our outward comportment and
behaviour may be better than theirs, but this, though good, is not
the most important thing: there is no reason why we should expect
everyone else to travel by our own road, and we should not attempt
to point them to the spiritual path when perhaps we do not know
what it is. Even with these desires that God gives us to help
others, sisters, we may make many mistakes, and thus it is better
to attempt to do what our Rule tells us -- to try to live ever in
silence and in hope, and the Lord will take care of His own. If,
when we beseech this of His Majesty, we do not become negligent
ourselves, we shall be able, with His help, to be of great profit
to them. May He be for ever blessed.

FOURTH MANSIONS

In which there are Three Chapters

CHAPTER I

Treats of the difference between sweetness or tenderness in prayer
and consolations, and tells of the happiness which the author
gained from learning how different thought is from understanding.
This chapter is very profitable for those who suffer greatly from
distractions during prayer.

BEFORE I begin to speak of the fourth Mansions, it is most
necessary that I should do what I have already done -- namely,
commend myself to the Holy Spirit, and beg Him from this point
onward to speak for me, so that you may understand what I shall
say about the Mansions still to be treated. For we now begin to
touch the supernatural77 and this is most difficult to explain
unless His Majesty takes it in hand, as He did when I described as
much as I understood of the subject, about fourteen years ago.78
Although I think I have now a little more light upon these favours
which the Lord grants to some souls, it is a different thing to
know how to explain them. May His Majesty undertake this if there
is any advantage to be gained from its being done, but not
otherwise.

As these Mansions are now getting near to the place where the King
dwells, they are of great beauty and there are such exquisite
things to be seen and appreciated in them that the understanding
is incapable of describing them in any way accurately without
being completely obscure to those devoid of experience. But any
experienced person will understand quite well, especially if his
experience has been considerable. It seems that, in order to reach
these Mansions, one must have lived for a long time in the others;
as a rule one must have been in those which we have just
described, but there is no infallible rule about it, as you must
often have heard, for the Lord gives when He wills and as He wills
and to whom He wills, and, as the gifts are His own, this is doing
no injustice to anyone.

Into these Mansions poisonous creatures seldom enter, and, if they
do, they prove quite harmless -- in fact they do the soul good. I
think in this state of prayer it is much better for them to enter
and make war upon the soul, for, if it had no temptations, the
devil might mislead it with regard to the consolations which God
gives, and do much more harm than he can when it is being tempted.
The soul, too, would not gain so much, for it would be deprived of
all occasions of merit and be living in a state of permanent
absorption. When a soul is continuously in a condition of this
kind I do not consider it at all safe, nor do I think it possible
for the Spirit of the Lord to remain in a soul continuously in
this way during our life of exile.

Returning to what I was saying I would describe here -- namely,
the difference between sweetness in prayer and spiritual
consolations -- it seems to me that we may describe as sweetness
what we get from our meditations and from petitions made to Our
Lord. This proceeds from our own nature, though, of course, God
plays a part in the process (and in everything I say you must
understand this, for we can do nothing without Him). This
spiritual sweetness arises from the actual virtuous work which we
perform, and we think we have acquired it by our labours. We are
quite right to feel satisfaction79 at having worked in such a way.
But, when we come to think of it, the same satisfaction80 can be
derived from numerous things that may happen to us here on earth.
When, for example, a person suddenly acquires some valuable
property; or equally suddenly meets a person whom he dearly loves;
or brings some important piece of business or some other weighty
matter to a successful conclusion, so that everyone speaks well of
him; or when a woman has been told that her husband or brother or
son is dead and he comes back to her alive. I have seen people
shed tears over some great joy81; sometimes, in fact, I have done
so myself.

It seems to me that the feelings82 which come to us from Divine
things are as purely natural as these, except that their source is
nobler, although these worldly joys are in no way bad. To put it
briefly, worldly joys have their source in our own nature and end
in God, whereas spiritual consolations have their source in God,
but we experience them in a natural way and enjoy them as much as
we enjoy those I have already mentioned, and indeed much more. Oh,
Jesus! How I wish I could make myself clear about this! For I
think I can see a very marked difference between these two things
and yet I am not clever enough to make my meaning plain: may the
Lord explain it for me!

I have just remembered a verse which we say at the end of the last
psalm at Prime. The last words of the verse are Cum dilatasti cor
meum.83 To anyone who has much experience, this will suffice to
explain the difference between the two; though, to anyone who has
not, further explanation is necessary. The spiritual sweetness
which has been described does not enlarge the heart; as a rule, it
seems to oppress it somewhat. The soul experiences a great
happiness84 when it realizes what it is doing for God's sake; but
it sheds a few bitter tears which seem in some way to be the
result of passion85. I know little about these passions of the
soul; if I knew more, perhaps I could make the thing clear, and
explain what proceeds from sensuality and what from our own
nature. But I am very stupid; I could explain this state if only I
could understand my own experience of it. Knowledge and learning
are a great help in everything.

My own experience of this state -- I mean of these favours and
this sweetness in meditation -- was that, if I began to weep over
the Passion, I could not stop until I had a splitting headache;
and the same thing happened when I wept for my sins. This was a
great grace granted me by Our Lord, and I will not for the moment
examine each of these favours and decide which is the better of
the two; I wish, however, that I could explain the difference
between them. In the state I am now describing, the tears and
longings sometimes arise partly from our nature and from the state
of preparedness we are in;86 but nevertheless, as I have said,
they eventually lead one to God. And this is an experience to be
greatly prized, provided the soul be humble, and can understand
that it does not make it any the more virtuous; for it is
impossible to be sure that these feelings are effects of love,
and, even so, they are a gift of God. Most of the souls which
dwell in the Mansions already described are familiar with these
feelings of devotion, for they labour with the understanding
almost continuously, and make use of it in their meditations. They
are right to do this, because nothing more has been given them;
they would do well, however, to spend short periods in making
various acts, and in praising God and rejoicing in His goodness
and in His being Who He is, and in desiring His honour and glory.
They should do this as well as they can, for it goes a long way
towards awakening the will. But, when the Lord gives them this
other grace, let them be very careful not to reject it for the
sake of finishing their customary meditation.

As I have written about this at great length elsewhere,87 I will
not repeat it here. I only want you to be warned that, if you
would progress a long way on this road and ascend to the Mansions
of your desire, the important thing is not to think much, but to
love much; do, then, whatever most arouses you to love. Perhaps we
do not know what love is: it would not surprise me a great deal to
learn this, for love consists, not in the extent of our happiness,
but in the firmness of our determination to try to please God in
everything, and to endeavour, in all possible ways, not to offend
Him, and to pray Him ever to advance the honour and glory of His
Son and the growth of the Catholic Church. Those are the signs of
love; do not imagine that the important thing is never to be
thinking of anything else and that if your mind becomes slightly
distracted all is lost.

I have sometimes been terribly oppressed by this turmoil of
thoughts and it is only just over four years ago that I came to
understand by experience that thought (or, to put it more clearly,
imagination88) is not the same thing as understanding. I asked a
learned man about this and he said I was right, which gave me no
small satisfaction. For, as the understanding is one of the
faculties of the soul, I found it very hard to see why it was
sometimes so timid89; whereas thoughts, as a rule, fly so fast
that only God can restrain them; which He does by uniting us in
such a way that we seem in some sense to be loosed from this
body.90 It exasperated me91 to see the faculties of the soul, as I
thought, occupied with God and recollected in Him, and the
thought, on the other hand, confused and excited.

O Lord, do Thou remember how much we have to suffer on this road
through lack of knowledge! The worst of it is that, as we do not
realize we need to know more when we think about Thee, we cannot
ask those who know; indeed we have not even any idea what there is
for us to ask them. So we suffer terrible trials because we do not
understand ourselves; and we worry over what is not bad at all,
but good, and think it very wrong. Hence proceed the afflictions
of many people who practise prayer, and their complaints of
interior trials -- especially if they are unlearned people -- so
that they become melancholy, and their health declines, and they
even abandon prayer altogether, because they fail to realize that
there is an interior world close at hand. Just as we cannot stop
the movement of the heavens, revolving as they do with such speed,
so we cannot restrain our thought. And then we send all the
faculties of the soul after it, thinking we are lost, and have
misused the time that we are spending in the presence of God. Yet
the soul may perhaps be wholly united with Him in the Mansions
very near His presence, while thought remains in the outskirts of
the castle, suffering the assaults of a thousand wild and venomous
creatures and from this suffering winning merit. So this must not
upset us, and we must not abandon the struggle, as the devil tries
to make us do. Most of these trials and times of unrest come from
the fact that we do not understand ourselves.

As I write this, the noises in my head are so loud that I am
beginning to wonder what is going on in it.92 As I said at the
outset, they have been making it almost impossible for me to obey
those who commanded me to write. My head sounds just as if it were
full of brimming rivers, and then as if all the water in those
rivers came suddenly rushing downward; and a host of little birds
seem to be whistling, not in the ears, but in the upper part of
the head, where the higher part of the soul is said to be; I have
held this view for a long time, for the spirit seems to move
upward with great velocity. Please God I may remember to explain
the cause of this when I am writing of the later Mansions: here it
does not fit in well. I should not be surprised to know that the
Lord has been pleased to send me this trouble in my head so that I
may understand it better, for all this physical turmoil is no
hindrance either to my prayer or to what I am saying now, but the
tranquillity and love in my soul are quite unaffected, and so are
its desires and clearness of mind.

But if the higher part of the soul is in the upper part of the
head, how is it that it experiences no disturbance? That I do not
know, but I do know that what I say is true. I suffer when my
prayer is not accompanied by suspension of the faculties, but,
when the faculties are suspended, I feel no pain until the
suspension is over; it would be a terrible thing if this obstacle
forced me to give up praying altogether. It is not good for us to
be disturbed by our thoughts or to worry about them in the
slightest; for if we do not worry and if the devil is responsible
for them they will cease, and if they proceed, as they do, from
the weakness which we inherit from the sin of Adam, and from many
other weaknesses, let us have patience and bear everything for the
love of God. Similarly we are obliged to eat and sleep, and we
cannot escape from these obligations, though they are a great
burden to us.

Let us recognize our weakness in these respects and desire to go
where nobody will despise us. I sometimes recall words I have
heard, spoken by the Bride in the Canticles,93 and really I
believe there is no point in our lives at which they can more
properly be used, for I do not think that all the scorn and all
the trials which we may have to suffer in this life can equal
these interior battles. Any unrest and any strife can be borne, as
I have already said, if we find peace where we live; but if we
would have rest from the thousand trials which afflict us in the
world and the Lord is pleased to prepare such rest for us, and yet
the cause of the trouble is in ourselves, the result cannot but be
very painful, indeed almost unbearable. For this causes Lord, do
Thou take us to a place where these weaknesses, which sometimes
seem to be making sport of the soul, do not cause us to be
despised. Even in this life the Lord will free the soul from this,
when it has reached the last Mansion, as, if it please God, we
shall explain.

These weaknesses will not give everyone so much trouble, or assail
everyone as violently, as for many years they troubled and
assailed me. For I was a wicked person and it seemed as though I
were trying to take vengeance on myself. As it has been such a
troublesome thing for me, it may perhaps be so for you as well, so
I am just going to describe it, first in one way and then in
another, hoping that I may succeed in making you realize how
necessary it is, so that you may not grow restless and distressed.
The clacking old mill must keep on going round and we must grind
our own flour: neither the will nor the understanding must cease
working.

This trouble will sometimes be worse, and sometimes better,
according to our health and according to the times and seasons.
The poor soul may not be to blame for this, but it must suffer
none the less, for, as we shall commit other faults, it is only
right that we should have patience. And as we are so ignorant that
what we read and are advised -- namely, that we should take no
account of these thoughts -- is not sufficient to teach us, it
does not seem to me a waste of time if I go into it farther and
offer you some consolation about it; though this will be of little
help to you until the Lord is pleased to give us light. But it is
necessary (and His Majesty's will) that we should take proper
measures and learn to understand ourselves, and not blame our
souls for what is the work of our weak imagination and our nature
and the devil.

CHAPTER II

Continues the same subject and explains by a comparison what is
meant by consolations and how we must obtain them without striving
to do so.

GOD help me in this task which I have embarked upon.94 I had quite
forgotten what I was writing about, for business matters and ill-
health forced me to postpone continuing it until a more suitable
time, and, as I have a poor memory, it will all be very much
confused, for I cannot read it through again. It may even be that
everything I say is confused; that, at least, is what I am afraid
of. I think I was talking about spiritual consolations and
explaining how they are sometimes bound up with our passions. They
often cause fits of sobbing; I have heard, indeed, that some
persons find they produce constrictions of the chest and even
exterior movements, which cannot be controlled, and which are
violent enough to make blood gush from the nose and produce
similar disconcerting symptoms. About this I can say nothing, for
I have not experienced it, but there must be some cause for
comfort in it, for, as I say, it all leads to a desire to please
God and to have fruition of His Majesty.

What I call consolations from God, and elsewhere have termed the
Prayer of Quiet, is something of a very different kind, as those
of you will know who by the mercy of God have experienced it. To
understand it better, let us suppose that we are looking at two
fountains, the basins of which can be filled with water. There are
certain spiritual things which I can find no way of explaining
more aptly than by this element of water; for, as I am very
ignorant, and my wits give me no help, and I am so fond of this
element, I have observed it more attentively than anything else.
In all the things that have been created by so great and wise a
God there must be many secrets by which we can profit, and those
who understand them do profit by them, although I believe that in
every little thing created by God there is more than we realize,
even in so small a thing as a tiny ant.

These two large basins can be filled with water in different ways:
the water in the one comes from a long distance, by means of
numerous conduits and through human skill; but the other has been
constructed at the very source of the water and fills without
making any noise. If the flow of water is abundant, as in the case
we are speaking of, a great stream still runs from it after it has
been filled; no skill is necessary here, and no conduits have to
be made, for the water is flowing all the time. The difference
between this and the carrying of the water by means of conduits
is, I think, as follows. The latter corresponds to the spiritual
sweetness which, as I say, is produced by meditation. It reaches
us by way of the thoughts; we meditate upon created things and
fatigue the understanding; and when at last, by means of our own
efforts, it comes, the satisfaction which it brings to the soul
fills the basin, but in doing so makes a noise, as I have said.

To the other fountain the water comes direct from its source,
which is God, and, when it is His Majesty's will and He is pleased
to grant us some supernatural favour, its coming is accompanied by
the greatest peace and quietness and sweetness within ourselves --
I cannot say where it arises or how. And that content and delight
are not felt, as earthly delights are felt, in the heart -- I mean
not at the outset, for later the basin becomes completely filled,
and then this water begins to overflow all the Mansions and
faculties, until it reaches the body. It is for that reason that I
said it has its source in God and ends in ourselves -- for it is
certain, and anyone will know this who has experienced it, that
the whole of the outer man enjoys this consolation and sweetness.

I was thinking just now, as I wrote this, that a verse which I
have already quoted, Dilatasti cor meum,95 speaks of the heart's
being enlarged. I do not think that this happiness has its source
in the heart at all. It arises in a much more interior part, like
something of which the springs are very deep; I think this must be
the centre of the soul, as I have since realized and as I will
explain hereafter. I certainly find secret things in ourselves
which often amaze me -- and how many more there must be! O my Lord
and my God! How wondrous is Thy greatness! And we creatures go
about like silly little shepherd-boys, thinking we are learning to
know something of Thee when the very most we can know amounts to
nothing at all, for even in ourselves there are deep secrets which
we cannot fathom. When I say "amounts to nothing at all" I mean
because Thou art so surpassingly great, not because the signs of
greatness that we see in Thy works are not very wonderful, even
considering how very little we can learn to know of them.

Returning to this verse, what it says about the enlargement of the
heart may, I think, be of some help to us. For apparently, as this
heavenly water begins to flow from this source of which I am
speaking -- that is, from our very depths -- it proceeds to spread
within us and cause an interior dilation and produce ineffable
blessings, so that the soul itself cannot understand all that it
receives there. The fragrance it experiences, we might say, is as
if in those interior depths there were a brazier on which were
cast sweet perfumes; the light cannot be seen, nor the place where
it dwells, but the fragrant smoke and the heat penetrate the
entire soul, and very often, as I have said, the effects extend
even to the body. Observe -- and understand me here -- that no
heat is felt, nor is any fragrance perceived: it is a more
delicate thing than that; I only put it in that way so that you
may understand it. People who have not experienced it must realize
that it does in very truth happen; its occurrence is capable of
being perceived, and the soul becomes aware of it more clearly
than these words of mine can express it. For it is not a thing
that we can fancy, nor, however hard we strive, can we acquire it,
and from that very fact it is clear that it is a thing made, not
of human metal, but of the purest gold of Divine wisdom. In this
state the faculties are not, I think, in union, but they become
absorbed and are amazed as they consider what is happening to
them.

It may be that in writing of these interior things I am
contradicting what I have myself said elsewhere. This is not
surprising, for almost fifteen years have passed since then,96 and
perhaps the Lord has now given me a clearer realization of these
matters than I had at first. Both then and now, of course, I may
be mistaken in all this, but I cannot lie about it: by the mercy
of God I would rather die a thousand deaths: I am speaking of it
just as I understand it.

The will certainly seems to me to be united in some way with the
will of God; but it is by the effects of this prayer and the
actions which follow it that the genuineness of the experience
must be tested and there is no better crucible for doing so than
this. If the person who receives such a grace recognizes it for
what it is, Our Lord is granting him a surpassingly great favour,
and another very great one if he does not turn back. You will
desire, then, my daughters, to strive to attain this way of
prayer, and you will be right to do so, for, is I have said, the
soul cannot fully understand the favours which the Lord grants it
there or the love which draws it ever nearer to Himself, it is
certainly desirable that we should know how to obtain this favour.
I will tell you what I have found out about it.

We may leave out of account occasions when the Lord is pleased to
grant these favours for no other reason than because His Majesty
so wills. He knows why He does it and it is not for us to
interfere. As well as acting, then, as do those who have dwelt in
the Mansions already described, have humility and again humility!
It is by humility that the Lord allows Himself to be conquered so
that He will do all we ask of Him, and the first way in which you
will see if you have humility is that if you have it you will not
think you merit these favours and consolations of the Lord or are
likely to get them for as long as you live. "But how," you will
ask, "are we to gain them if we do not strive after them?" I reply
that there is no better way than this one which I have described.
There are several reasons why they should not be striven for. The
first is because the most essential thing is that we should love
God without any motive of self-interest. The second is because
there is some lack of humility in our thinking that in return for
our miserable services we can obtain anything so great. The third
is because the true preparation for receiving these gifts is a
desire to suffer and to imitate the Lord, not to receive
consolations; for, after all, we have often offended Him. The
fourth reason is because His Majesty is not obliged to grant them
to us, as He is obliged to grant us glory if we keep His
commandments, without doing which we could not be saved, and He
knows better than we what is good for us and which of us truly
love Him. That is certain truth, as I know; and I also know people
who walk along the road of love, solely, as they should, in order
to serve Christ crucified, and not only do they neither ask for
consolations nor desire them, but they beg Him not to give them to
them in this life. The fifth reason is that we should be labouring
in vain; for this water does not flow through conduits, as the
other does, and so we gain nothing by fatiguing ourselves if it
cannot be had at the source. I mean that, however much we may
practise meditation, however much we do violence to ourselves,97
and however many tears we shed, we cannot produce this water in
those ways; it is given only to whom God wills to give it and
often when the soul is not thinking of it at all.

We are His, sisters; may He do with us as He will and lead us
along whatever way He pleases. I am sure that if any of us achieve
true humility and detachment (I say "true" because it must not be
in thought alone, for thoughts often deceive us; it must be total
detachment) the Lord will not fail to grant us this favour, and
many others which we shall not even know how to desire. May He be
for ever praised and blessed. Amen.

CHAPTER III

Describes what is meant by the Prayer of Recollection, which the
Lord generally grants before that already mentioned. Speaks of its
effects and of the remaining effects of the former kind of prayer,
which had to do with the consolations given by the Lord.

THE effects of this kind of prayer are numerous; some of them I
shall explain. First of all, I will say something (though not
much, as I have dealt with it elsewhere)98 about another kind of
prayer, which almost invariably begins before this one. It is a
form of recollection which also seems to me supernatural for it
does not involve remaining in the dark, or closing the eyes, nor
is it dependent upon anything exterior. A person involuntarily
closes his eyes and desires solitude; and, without the display of
any human skill there seems gradually to be built for him a temple
in which he can make the prayer already described; the senses and
all external things seem gradually to lose their hold on him,
while the soul, on the other hand, regains its lost control.

It is sometimes said that the soul enters within itself and
sometimes that it rises above itself;99 but I cannot explain
things in that kind of language, for I have no skill in it.
However, I believe you will understand what I am able to tell you,
though I may perhaps be intelligible only to myself. Let us
suppose that these senses and faculties (the inhabitants, as I
have said, of this castle, which is the figure that I have taken
to explain my meaning) have gone out of the castle, and, for days
and years, have been consorting with strangers, to whom all the
good things in the castle are abhorrent. Then, realizing how much
they have lost, they come back to it, though they do not actually
re-enter it, because the habits they have formed are hard to
conquer. But they are no longer traitors and they now walk about
in the vicinity of the castle. The great King, Who dwells in the
Mansion within this castle, perceives their good will, and in His
great mercy desires to bring them back to Him. So, like a good
Shepherd, with a call so gentle that even they can hardly
recognize it, He teaches them to know His voice and not to go away
and get lost but to return to their Mansion; and so powerful is
this Shepherd's call that they give up the things outside the
castle which had led them astray, and once again enter it.

I do not think I have ever explained this before as clearly as
here. When we are seeking God within ourselves (where He is found
more effectively and more profitably than in the creatures, to
quote Saint Augustine, who, after having sought Him in many
places, found Him within)100 it is a great help if God grants us
this favour. Do not suppose that the understanding can attain to
Him, merely by trying to think of Him as within the soul, or the
imagination, by picturing Him as there. This is a good habit and
an excellent kind of meditation, for it is founded upon a truth --
namely, that God is within us. But it is not the kind of prayer
that I have in mind, for anyone (with the help of the Lord, you
understand) can practise it for himself. What I am describing is
quite different. These people are sometimes in the castle before
they have begun to think about God at all. I cannot say where they
entered it or how they heard their Shepherd's call: it was
certainly not with their ears, for outwardly such a call is not
audible. They become markedly conscious that they are gradually
retiring101 within themselves; anyone who experiences this will
discover what I mean: I cannot explain it better. I think I have
read that they are like a hedgehog or a tortoise withdrawing into
itself102; and whoever wrote that must have understood it well.
These creatures, however, enter within themselves whenever they
like; whereas with us it is not a question of our will -- it
happens only when God is pleased to grant us this favour. For my
own part, I believe that, when His Majesty grants it, He does so
to people who are already leaving the things of the world. I do
not mean that people who are married must actually leave the world
-- they can do so only in desire: His call to them is a special
one and aims at making them intent upon interior things. I
believe, however, that if we wish to give His Majesty free course,
He will grant more than this to those whom He is beginning to call
still higher.

Anyone who is conscious that this is happening within himself
should give God great praise, for he will be very right to
recognize what a favour it is; and the thanksgiving which he makes
for it will prepare him for greater favours. One preparation for
listening to Him, as certain books tell us, is that we should
contrive, not to use our reasoning powers, but to be intent upon
discovering what the Lord is working in the soul; for, if His
Majesty has not begun to grant us absorption, I cannot understand
how we can cease thinking in any way which will not bring us more
harm than profit, although this has been a matter of continual
discussion among spiritual persons. For my own part, I confess my
lack of humility, but their arguments have never seemed to me good
enough to lead me to accept what they say. One person told me of a
certain book by the saintly Fray Peter of Alc�ntara (for a saint I
believe he is), which would certainly have convinced me, for I
know how much he knew about such things; but we read it together,
and found that he says exactly what I say, although not in the
same words; it is quite clear from what he says that love must
already be awake.103 It is possible that I am mistaken, but I base
my position on the following reasons.

First, in such spiritual activity as this, the person who does
most is he who thinks least and desires to do least:104 what we
have to do is to beg like poor and needy persons coming before a
great and rich Emperor and then cast down our eyes in humble
expectation. When from the secret signs He gives us we seem to
realize that He is hearing us, it is well for us to keep silence,
since He has permitted us to be near Him and there will be no harm
in our striving not to labour with the understanding -- provided,
I mean, that we are able to do so. But if we are not quite sure
that the King has heard us, or sees us, we must not stay where we
are like ninnies, for there still remains a great deal for the
soul to do when it has stilled the understanding; if it did
nothing more it would experience much greater aridity and the
imagination would grow more restless because of the effort caused
it by cessation from thought. The Lord wishes us rather to make
requests of Him and to remember that we are in His presence, for
He knows what is fitting for us. I cannot believe in the efficacy
of human activity in matters where His Majesty appears to have set
a limit to it and to have been pleased to reserve action to
Himself. There are many other things in which He has not so
reserved it, such as penances, works of charity and prayers;
these, with His aid, we can practise for ourselves, as far as our
miserable nature is capable of them.

The second reason is that all these interior activities are gentle
and peaceful, and to do anything painful brings us harm rather
than help. By "anything painful" I mean anything that we try to
force ourselves to do; it would be painful, for example, to hold
our breath. The soul must just leave itself in the hands of God,
and do what He wills it to do, completely disregarding its own
advantage and resigning itself as much as it possibly can to the
will of God. The third reason is that the very effort which the
soul makes in order to cease from thought will perhaps awaken
thought and cause it to think a great deal. The fourth reason is
that the most important and pleasing thing in God's eyes is our
remembering His honour and glory and forgetting ourselves and our
own profit and ease and pleasure. And how can a person be
forgetful of himself when he is taking such great care about his
actions that he dare not even stir, or allow his understanding and
desires to stir, even for the purpose of desiring the greater
glory of God or of rejoicing in the glory which is His? When His
Majesty wishes the working of the understanding to cease, He
employs it in another manner, and illumines the soul's knowledge
to so much higher a degree than any we can ourselves attain that
He leads it into a state of absorption, in which, without knowing
how, it is much better instructed than it could ever be as a
result of its own efforts, which would only spoil everything. God
gave us our faculties to work with, and everything will have its
due reward; there is no reason, then, for trying to cast a spell
over them -- they must be allowed to perform their office until
God gives them a better one.

As I understand it, the soul whom the Lord has been pleased to
lead into this Mansion will do best to act as I have said. Let it
try, without forcing itself or causing any turmoil, to put a stop
to all discursive reasoning, yet not to suspend the understanding,
nor to cease from all thought, though it is well for it to
remember that it is in God's presence and Who this God is. If
feeling this should lead it into a state of absorption, well and
good; but it should not try to understand what this state is,
because that is a gift bestowed upon the will. The will, then,
should be left to enjoy it, and should not labour except for
uttering a few loving words, for although in such a case one may
not be striving to cease from thought, such cessation often comes,
though for a very short time.

I have explained elsewhere105 the reason why this occurs in this
kind of prayer (I am referring to the kind which I began to
explain in this Mansion). With it I have included this Prayer of
Recollection which ought to have been described first, for it
comes far below the consolations of God already mentioned, and is
indeed the first step towards attaining them. For in the Prayer of
Recollection it is unnecessary to abandon meditation and the
activities of the understanding. When, instead of coming through
conduits, the water springs directly from its source, the
understanding checks its activity, or rather the activity is
checked for it when it finds it cannot understand what it desires,
and thus it roams about all over the place, like a demented
creature, and can settle down to nothing. The will is fixed so
firmly upon its God that this disturbed condition of the
understanding causes it great distress; but it must not take any
notice of this, for if it does so it will lose a great part of
what it is enjoying; it must forget about it, and abandon itself
into the arms of love, and His Majesty will teach it what to do
next; almost its whole work is to realize its unworthiness to
receive such great good and to occupy itself in thanksgiving.

In order to discuss106 the Prayer of Recollection I passed over
the effects or signs to be observed in souls to whom this prayer
is granted by God Our Lord. It is clear that a dilation or
enlargement of the soul takes place, as if the water proceeding
from the spring had no means of running away, but the fountain had
a device ensuring that, the more freely the water flowed, the
larger became the basin. So it is in this kind of prayer, and God
works many more wonders in the soul, thus fitting and gradually
disposing it to retain all that He gives it. So this gentle
movement and this interior dilation cause the soul to be less
constrained in matters relating to the service of God than it was
before and give it much more freedom. It is not oppressed, for
example, by the fear of hell, for, though it desires more than
ever not to offend God (of Whom, however, it has lost all servile
fear), it has firm confidence that it is destined to have fruition
of Him. A person who used to be afraid of doing penance lest he
should ruin his health now believes that in God he can do
everything, and has more desire to do such things than he had
previously. The fear of trials that he was wont to have is now
largely assuaged, because he has a more lively faith, and realizes
that, if he endures these trials for God's sake, His Majesty will
give him grace to bear them patiently, and sometimes even to
desire them, because he also cherishes a great desire to do
something for God. The better he gets to know the greatness of
God, the better he comes to realize the misery of his own
condition; having now tasted the consolations of God, he sees that
earthly things are mere refuse; so, little by little, he withdraws
from them and in this way becomes more and more his own master. In
short, he finds himself strengthened in all the virtues and will
infallibly continue to increase in them unless he turns back and
commits offenses against God -- when that happens, everything is
lost, however far a man may have climbed towards the crest of the
mountain. It must not be understood, however, that all these
things take place because once or twice God has granted a soul
this favour; it must continue receiving them, for it is from their
continuance that all our good proceeds.

There is one earnest warning which I must give those who find
themselves in this state: namely, that they exert the very
greatest care to keep themselves from occasions of offending God.
For as yet the soul is not even weaned but is like a child
beginning to suck the breast. If it be taken from its mother, what
can it be expected to do but die? That, I am very much afraid,
will be the lot of anyone to whom God has granted this favour if
he gives up prayer; unless he does so for some very exceptional
reason, or unless he returns to it quickly, he will go from bad to
worse. I am aware how much ground there is for fear about this and
I have been very much grieved by certain people I know, in whom I
have seen what I am describing; they have left Him Who in His
great love was yearning to give Himself to them as a Friend, and
to prove His friendship by His works. I earnestly warn such people
not to enter upon occasions of sin, because the devil sets much
more store by one soul in this state than by a great number of
souls to whom the Lord does not grant these favours. For those in
this state attract others, and so they can do the devil great harm
and may well bring great advantage to the Church of God. He may
see nothing else in them except that His Majesty is showing them
especial love, but this is quite sufficient to make him do his
utmost to bring about their perdition. The conflict, then, is
sterner for such souls than for others and if they are lost their
fate is less remediable. You, sisters, so far as we know, are free
from these perils. May God free you from pride and vainglory and
grant that the devil may not counterfeit these favours. Such
counterfeits, however, will be recognizable because they will not
produce these effects, but quite contrary ones.

There is one peril of which I want to warn you, though I have
spoken of it elsewhere; I have seen persons given to prayer fall
into it, and especially women, for, as we are weaker than men, we
run more risk of what I am going to describe. It is this: some
women, because of prayers, vigils and severe penances, and also
for other reasons, have poor health. When they experience any
spiritual consolation, therefore, their physical nature is too
much for them; and as soon as they feel any interior joy there
comes over them a physical weakness and languor, and they fall
into a sleep, which they call "spiritual", and which is a little
more marked than the condition that has been described. Thinking
the one state to be the same as the other, they abandon themselves
to this absorption; and the more they relax, the more complete
becomes this absorption, because their physical nature continues
to grow weaker. So they get it into their heads that it is
arrobamiento, or rapture. But I call it abobamiento,
foolishness;107 for they are doing nothing but wasting their time
at it and ruining their health.

One person was in this state for eight hours; she was not
unconscious, nor was she conscious of anything concerning God. She
was cured by being told to take more food and sleep and to do less
penance; for, though she had misled both her confessor and other
people and, quite involuntarily, deceived herself, there was one
person who understood her. I believe the devil would go to any
pains to gain such people as that and he was beginning to make
good progress with this one.

It must be understood that although, when this state is something
that really comes from God, there may be languor, both interior
and exterior, there will be none in the soul, which, when it finds
itself near God, is moved with great joy. The experience does not
last long, but only for a little while. Although the soul may
become absorbed again, yet this kind of prayer, as I have said,
except in cases of physical weakness, does not go so far as to
overcome the body or to produce in it any exterior sensation. Be
advised, then, and, if you experience anything of this kind, tell
your superior, and relax as much as you can. The superior should
give such persons fewer hours of prayer -- very few, indeed -- and
should see that they sleep and eat well, until their physical
strength, if it has become exhausted, comes back again. If their
constitution is so weak that this does not suffice, they can be
certain that God is not calling them to anything beyond the active
life. There is room in convents for people of all kinds; let
anyone of this type, then, be kept busy with duties, and let care
be taken that she is not left alone very much, or her health will
be completely ruined. This sort of life will be a great
mortification to her, but it is here that the Lord wishes to test
her love for Him by seeing how she bears His absence and after a
while He may well be pleased to restore her strength; if He is
not, her vocal prayer and her obedience will bring her as much
benefit and merit as she would have obtained in other ways, and
perhaps more.

There may also be some who are so weak in intellect and
imagination -- I have known such -- that they believe they
actually see all they imagine. This is highly dangerous and
perhaps we shall treat of it later, but no more shall be said
here; for I have written at great length of this Mansion, as it is
the one which the greatest number of souls enter. As the natural
is united with the supernatural in it, it is here that the devil
can do most harm; for in the Mansions of which I have not yet
spoken the Lord gives him fewer opportunities. May He be for ever
praised. Amen.

FIFTH MANSIONS

In which there are Four Chapters.

CHAPTER I

Begins to explain how in prayer the soul is united with God.
Describes how we may know that we are not mistaken about this.

OH, sisters! How shall I ever be able to tell you of the riches
and the treasures and the delights which are to be found in the
fifth Mansions? I think it would be better if I were to say
nothing of the Mansions I have not yet treated, for no one can
describe them, the understanding is unable to comprehend them and
no comparisons will avail to explain them, for earthly things are
quite insufficient for this purpose. Send me light from Heaven, my
Lord, that I may enlighten these Thy servants, to some of whom
Thou art often pleased to grant fruition of these joys, lest, when
the devil transfigures himself into an angel of light, he should
deceive them, for all their desires are occupied in desiring to
please Thee.

Although I said "to some", there are really very few who do not
enter these Mansions that I am about to describe. Some get farther
than others; but, as I say, the majority manage to get inside.
Some of the things which are in this room, and which I will
mention here, are, I am sure, attained by very few;108 but, if
they do no more than reach the door, God is showing them great
mercy by granting them this; for, though many are called, few are
chosen.109 So I must say here that, though all of us who wear this
sacred habit of Carmel are110 called to prayer and contemplation -
- because that was the first principle of our Order and because we
are descendent upon the line of those holy Fathers of ours from
Mount Carmel who sought this treasure, this precious pearl of
which we speak, in such great solitude and with such contempt for
the world -- few of us111 prepare ourselves for the Lord to reveal
it to us. As far as externals are concerned, we are on the right
road to attaining the essential virtues; but we shall need to do a
very great deal before we can attain to this higher state and we
must on no account be careless. So let us pause here, my sisters,
and beg the Lord that, since to some extent it is possible for us
to enjoy Heaven upon earth, He will grant us His help so that it
will not be our fault if we miss anything may He also show us the
road and give strength to our souls so that we may dig until we
find this hidden treasure, since it is quite true that we have it
within ourselves. This I should like to explain if the Lord is
pleased to give me the knowledge.

I said "strength to our souls", because you must understand that
we do not need bodily strength if God our Lord does not give it
us; there is no one for whom He makes it impossible to buy His
riches; provided each gives what he has, He is content. Blessed be
so great a God! But observe, daughters, that, if you are to gain
this, He would have you keep back nothing; whether it be little or
much, He will have it all for Himself, and according to what you
know yourself to have given, the favours He will grant you will be
small or great. There is no better test than this of whether or no
our prayer attains to union. Do not think it is a state, like the
last, in which we dream; I say "dream", because the soul seems to
be, as it were, drowsy, so that it neither seems asleep nor feels
awake. Here we are all asleep, and fast asleep, to the things of
the world, and to ourselves (in fact, for the short time that the
condition lasts, the soul is without consciousness and has no
power to think, even though it may desire to do so). There is no
need now for it to devise any method of suspending the thought.
Even in loving, if it is able to love, it cannot understand how or
what it is that it loves, nor what it would desire; in fact, it
has completely died to the world so that it may live more fully in
God. This is a delectable death, a snatching of the soul from all
the activities which it can perform while it is in the body; a
death full of delight, for, in order to come closer to God, the
soul appears to have withdrawn so far from the body that I do not
know if it has still life enough to be able to breathe.112 I have
just been thinking about this and I believe it has not; or at
least, if it still breathes, it does so without realizing it. The
mind would like to occupy itself wholly in understanding something
of what it feels, and, as it has not the strength to do this, it
becomes so dumbfounded that, even if any consciousness remains to
it, neither hands nor feet can move; as we commonly say of a
person who has fallen into a swoon, it might be taken for dead.
Oh, the secrets of God! I should never weary of trying to describe
them to you, if I thought I could do so successfully. I do not
mind if I write any amount of nonsense, provided that just once in
a way I can write sense, so that we may give great praise to the
Lord.

I said that there was no question here of dreaming, whereas as in
the Mansion that I have just described the soul is doubtful as to
what has really happened until it has had a good deal of
experience of it. It wonders if the whole thing was imagination,
if it has been asleep, if the favour was a gift of God, or if the
devil was transfigured into an angel of light. It retains a
thousand suspicions, and it is well that it should, for, as I
said, we can sometimes be deceived in this respect, even by our
own nature. For, although there is less opportunity for the
poisonous creatures to enter, a few little lizards, being very
agile, can hide themselves all over the place; and, although they
do no harm -- especially, as I said, if we take no notice of them
-- they correspond to the little thoughts which proceed from the
imagination and from what has been said it will be seen that they
are often very troublesome. Agile though they are, however, the
lizards cannot enter this Mansion, for neither imagination nor
memory nor understanding can be an obstacle to the blessings that
are bestowed in it. And I shall venture to affirm that, if this is
indeed union with God,113 the devil cannot enter or do any harm;
for His Majesty is in such close contact and union with the
essence of the soul114 that he will not dare to approach, nor can
he even understand this secret thing. That much is evident: for it
is said that he does not understand our thoughts;115 still less,
therefore, will he understand a thing so secret that God will not
even entrust our thoughts with it.116 Oh, what a great blessing is
this state in which that accursed one can do us no harm! Great are
the gains which come to the soul with God working in it and
neither we ourselves nor anyone else hindering Him. What will He
not give Who so much loves giving and can give all that He will?

I fear I may be leaving you confused by saying "if this is indeed
union with God" and suggesting that there are other kinds of
union. But of course there are! If we are really very fond of
vanities the devil will send us into transports over them; but
these are not like the transports of God, nor is there the same
delight and satisfaction for the soul or the same peace and joy.
That joy is greater than all the joys of earth, and greater than
all its delights, and all its satisfactions, so that there is no
evidence that these satisfactions and those of the earth have a
common origin; and they are apprehended, too, very differently, as
you will have learned by experience. I said once117 that it is as
if the one kind had to do with the grosser part of the body, and
the other kind penetrated to the very marrow of the bones; that
puts it well, and I know no better way of expressing it.

But I fancy that even now you will not be satisfied, for you will
think that you may be mistaken, and that these interior matters
are difficult to investigate. In reality, what has been said will
be sufficient for anyone who has experienced this blessing, for
there is a great difference between the false and the true. But I
will give you a clear indication which will make it impossible for
you to go wrong or to doubt if some favour has come from God; His
Majesty has put it into my mind only to-day, and I think it is
quite decisive. In difficult matters, even if I believe I
understand what I am saying and am speaking the truth, I use this
phrase "I think", because, if I am mistaken, I am very ready to
give credence to those who have great learning. For even if they
have not themselves experienced these things, men of great
learning have a certain instinct118 to prompt them. As God uses
them to give light to His Church, He reveals to them anything
which is true so that it shall be accepted; and if they do not
squander their talents, but are true servants of God, they will
never be surprised at His greatness, for they know quite well that
He is capable of working more and still more. In any case, where
matters are in question for which there is no explanation, there
must be others about which they can read, and they can deduce from
their reading that it is possible for these first-named to have
happened.

Of this I have the fullest experience; and I have also experience
of timid, half-learned men whose shortcomings have cost me very
dear. At any rate, my own opinion is that anyone who does not
believe that God can do much more than this, and that He has been
pleased, and is sometimes still pleased, to grant His creatures
such favours, has closed the door fast against receiving them.
Therefore, sisters, let this never be true of you, but trust God
more and more, and do not consider whether those to whom He
communicates His favours are bad or good. His Majesty knows all
about this, as I have said; intervention on our part is quite
unnecessary; rather must we serve His Majesty with humility and
simplicity of heart, and praise Him for His works and wonders.

Turning now to the indication which I have described as119 a
decisive one: here is this soul which God has made, as it were,
completely foolish in order the better to impress upon it true
wisdom. For as long as such a soul is in this state, it can
neither see nor hear nor understand: the period is always short
and seems to the soul even shorter than it really is. God implants
Himself in the interior of that soul in such a way that, when it
returns to itself, it cannot120 possibly doubt that God has been
in it and it has been in God; so firmly does this truth remain
within it that, although for years God may never grant it that
favour again, it can neither forget it nor doubt that it has
received it (and this quite apart from the effects which remain
within it, and of which I will speak later). This certainty of the
soul is very material.

But now you will say to me: How did the soul see it and understand
it if it can neither see nor understand? I am not saying that it
saw it at the time,121 but that it sees it clearly afterwards, and
not because it is a vision, but because of a certainty which
remains in the soul, which can be put there only by God. I know of
a person who had not learned that God was in all things by
presence and power and essence; God granted her a favour of this
kind, which convinced her of this so firmly122 that, although one
of those half-learned men whom I have been talking about, and whom
she asked in what way God was in us (until God granted him an
understanding of it he knew as little of it as she), told her that
He was in us only by grace, she had the truth so firmly implanted
within her that she did not believe him, and asked others, who
told her the truth, which was a great consolation to her.123

Do not make the mistake of thinking that this certainty has
anything to do with bodily form -- with the presence of Our Lord
Jesus Christ, for example, unseen by us, in the Most Holy
Sacrament. It has nothing to do with this -- only with His
Divinity. How, you will ask, can we become so convinced of what we
have not seen? That I do not know, it is the work of God. But I
know I am speaking the truth; and if anyone has not that
certainty, I should say that what he has experienced is not union
of the whole soul with God but only union of one of the faculties
or some one of the many other kinds of favour which God grants the
soul. In all these matters we must stop looking for reasons why
they happened; if our understanding cannot grasp them, why should
we try to perplex it? It suffices us to know that He Who brings
this to pass is all-powerful,124 and as it is God Who does it and
we, however hard we work, are quite incapable of achieving it, let
us not try to become capable of understanding it either.

With regard to what I have just said about our incapability, I
recall that, as you have heard, the Bride in the Songs says: "The
King brought me" (or "put me", I think the words are) "into the
cellar of wine."125 It does not say that she went. It also says
that she was wandering about in all directions seeking her
Beloved.126 This, as I understand it, is the cellar where the Lord
is pleased to put us, when He wills and as He wills. But we cannot
enter by any efforts of our own; His Majesty must put us right
into the centre127 of our soul, and must enter there Himself; and,
in order that He may the better show us His wonders, it is His
pleasure that our will, which has entirely surrendered itself to
Him, should have no part in this. Nor does He desire the door of
the faculties and senses, which are all asleep, to be opened to
Him; He will come into the centre of the soul without using a
door, as He did when He came in to His disciples, and said Pax
vobis,128 and when He left the sepulchre without removing the
stone. Later on you will see how it is His Majesty's will that the
soul should have fruition of Him in its very centre, but you will
be able to realize that in the last Mansion much better than here.

Oh, daughters, what a lot we shall see if we desire to see no more
than our own baseness and wretchedness and to understand that we
are not worthy to be the handmaidens of so great a Lord, since we
cannot comprehend His marvels. May He be for ever praised. Amen.

CHAPTER II

Continues the same subject. Explains the Prayer of Union by a
delicate comparison. Describes the effects which it produces in
the soul. Should be studied with great care.

YOU will suppose that all there is to be seen in this Mansion has
been described already, but there is much more to come yet, for,
as I said, some receive more and some less. With regard to the
nature of union, I do not think I can say any thing further; but
when the soul to which God grants these favours prepares itself
for them, there are many things to be said concerning what the
Lord works in it. Some of these I shall say now, and I shall
describe that soul's state. In order the better to explain this, I
will make use of a comparison which is suitable for the purpose;
and which will also show us how, although this work is performed
by the Lord, and we can do nothing to make His Majesty grant us
this favour, we can do a great deal to prepare ourselves for it.

You will have heard of the wonderful way in which silk is made --
a way which no one could invent but God -- and how it comes from a
kind of seed which looks like tiny peppercorns129 (I have never
seen this, but only heard of it, so if it is incorrect in any way
the Fault is not mine). When the warm weather comes, and the
mulberry-trees begin to show leaf, this seed starts to take life;
until it has this sustenance, on which it feeds, it is as dead.
The silkworms feed on the mulberry-leaves until they are full-
grown, when people put down twigs, upon which, with their tiny
mouths, they start spinning silk, making themselves very tight
little cocoons, in which they bury themselves. Then, finally, the
worm, which was large and ugly, comes right out of the cocoon a
beautiful white butterfly.

Now if no one had ever seen this, and we were only told about it
as a story of past ages, who would believe it? And what arguments
could we find to support the belief that a thing as devoid of
reason as a worm or a bee could be diligent enough to work so
industriously for our advantage, and that in such an enterprise
the poor little worm would lose its life? This alone, sisters,
even if I tell you no more, is sufficient for a brief meditation,
for it will enable you to reflect upon the wonders and the wisdom
of our God. What, then, would it be if we knew the properties of
everything? It will be a great help to us if we occupy ourselves
in thinking of these wonderful things and rejoice in being the
brides of so wise and powerful a King.

But to return to what I was saying. The silkworm is like the soul
which takes life when, through the heat which comes from the Holy
Spirit, it begins to utilize the general help which God gives to
us all, and to make use of the remedies which He left in His
Church -- such as frequent confessions, good books and sermons,
for these are the remedies for a soul dead in negligences and sins
and frequently plunged into temptation. The soul begins to live
and nourishes itself on this food, and on good meditations, until
it is full grown -- and this is what concerns me now: the rest is
of little importance.

When it is full-grown, then, as I wrote at the beginning, it
starts to spin its silk and to build the house in which it is to
die. This house may be understood here to mean Christ. I think I
read or heard somewhere that our life is hid in Christ, or in God
(for that is the same thing), or that our life is Christ.130 (The
exact form of this131 is little to my purpose.)

Here, then, daughters, you see what we can do, with God's favour.
May His Majesty Himself be our Mansion as He is in this Prayer of
Union which, as it were, we ourselves spin. When I say He will be
our Mansion, and we can construct it for ourselves and hide
ourselves in it, I seem to be suggesting that we can subtract from
God, or add to Him. But of course we cannot possibly do that! We
can neither subtract from, nor add to, God, but we can subtract
from, and add to, ourselves, just as these little silkworms do.
And, before we have finished doing all that we can in that
respect, God will take this tiny achievement of ours, which is
nothing at all, unite it with His greatness and give it such worth
that its reward will be the Lord Himself. And as it is He Whom it
has cost the most, so His Majesty will unite our small trials with
the great trials which He suffered, and make both of them into
one.

On, then, my daughters! Let us hasten to perform this task and
spin this cocoon. Let us renounce our self-love and self-will, and
our attachment to earthly things. Let us practise penance, prayer,
mortification, obedience, and all the other good works that you
know of. Let us do what we have been taught; and we have been
instructed about what our duty is. Let the silkworm die -- let it
die, as in fact it does when it has completed the work which it
was created to do. Then we shall see God and shall ourselves be as
completely hidden in His greatness as is this little worm in its
cocoon. Note that, when I speak of seeing God, I am referring to
the way in which, as I have said, He allows Himself to be
apprehended in this kind of union.

And now let us see what becomes of this silkworm, for all that I
have been saying about it is leading up to this. When it is in
this state of prayer, and quite dead to the world, it comes out a
little white butterfly. Oh, greatness of God, that a soul should
come out like this after being hidden in the greatness of God, and
closely united with Him, for so short a time -- never, I think,
for as long as half an hour! I tell you truly, the very soul does
not know itself. For think of the difference between an ugly worm
and a white butterfly; it is just the same here. The soul cannot
think how it can have merited such a blessing -- whence such a
blessing could have come to it, I meant to say, for it knows quite
well that it has not merited it at all.132 It finds itself so
anxious to praise the Lord that it would gladly be consumed and
die a thousand deaths for His sake. Then it finds itself longing
to suffer great trials and unable to do otherwise. It has the most
vehement desires for penance, for solitude, and for all to know
God. And hence, when it sees God being offended, it becomes
greatly distressed. In the following Mansion we shall treat of
these things further and in detail, for, although the experiences
of this Mansion and of the next are almost identical, their
effects come to have much greater power; for, as I have said, if
after God comes to a soul here on earth it strives to progress
still more, it will experience great things.

To see, then, the restlessness of this little butterfly -- though
it has never been quieter or more at rest in its life! Here is
something to praise God for -- namely, that it knows not where to
settle and make its abode. By comparison with the abode it has
had, everything it sees on earth leaves it dissatisfied,
especially when God has again and again given it this wine which
almost every time has brought it some new blessing. It sets no
store by the things it did when it was a worm -- that is, by its
gradual weaving of the cocoon. It has wings now: how can it be
content to crawl along slowly when it is able to fly? All that it
can do for God seems to it slight by comparison with its desires.
It even attaches little importance to what the saints endured,
knowing by experience how the Lord helps and transforms a soul, so
that it seems no longer to be itself, or even its own likeness.
For the weakness which it used to think it had when it came to
doing penance is now turned into strength. It is no longer bound
by ties of relationship, friendship or property. Previously all
its acts of will and resolutions and desires were powerless to
loosen these and seemed only to bind them the more firmly; now it
is grieved at having even to fulfil its obligations in these
respects lest these should cause it to sin against God. Everything
wearies it, because it has proved that it can find no true rest in
the creatures.

I seem to be enlarging on this subject and there is much more that
I could say: anyone to whom God has granted this favour will
realize that I have said very little. It is not surprising, then,
that, as this little butterfly feels a stranger to things of the
earth, it should be seeking a new resting-place. But where will
the poor little creature go? It cannot return to the place it came
from, for, as has been said, however hard we try, it is not in our
power to do that until God is pleased once again to grant us this
favour. Ah, Lord! What trials begin afresh for this soul! Who
would think such a thing possible after it had received so signal
a favour? But, after all,133 we must bear crosses in one way or
another for as long as we live. And if anyone told me that after
reaching this state he had enjoyed continual rest and joy, I
should say that he had not reached it at all, but that if he had
got as far as the previous Mansion, he might possibly have
experienced some kind of consolation the effect of which was
enhanced by physical weakness, and perhaps even by the devil, who
gives peace to the soul in order later to wage a far severer war
upon it.

I do not mean that those who attain to this state have no peace:
they do have it, and to a very high degree, for even their trials
are of such sublimity and come from so noble a source that, severe
though they are, they bring peace and contentment. The very
discontent caused by the things of the world arouses a desire to
leave it, so grievous that any alleviation it finds can only be in
the thought that its life in this exile is God's will. And even
this is insufficient to comfort it, for, despite all it has
gained, the soul is not wholly resigned to the will of God, as we
shall see later. It does not fail to act in conformity with God's
will, but it does so with many tears and with great sorrow at
being unable to do more because it has been given no more
capacity. Whenever it engages in prayer, this is a grief to it. To
some extent, perhaps, it is a result of the great grief caused by
seeing how often God is offended, and how little esteemed, in this
world, and by considering how many souls are lost, both of
heretics and of Moors; although its greatest grief is over the
loss of Christian souls, many of whom, it fears, are condemned,
though so great is God's mercy that, however evil their lives have
been, they can amend them and be saved.

Oh, the greatness of God! Only a few years since -- perhaps only a
few days -- this soul was thinking of nothing but itself. Who has
plunged it into such grievous anxieties? Even if we tried to
meditate for years on end, we could not feel this as keenly as the
soul does now. God help me! If I were able to spend many days and
years in trying to realize how great a sin it is to offend God,
and in reflecting that those who are damned are His children, and
my brothers and sisters, and in meditating upon the dangers in
which we live, and in thinking how good it would be for us to
depart from this miserable life, would all that suffice? No,
daughters; the grief I am referring to is not like that caused by
these kinds of meditation. That grief we could easily achieve,
with the Lord's help, by thinking a great deal about those things;
but it does not reach to the depths of our being, as does this
grief, which, without any effort on the soul's part, and sometimes
against its will, seems to tear it to pieces and grind it to
powder. What, then, is this grief? Whence does it come? I will
tell you.

Have you not heard concerning the Bride (I said this a little
while back,134 though not with reference to the same matter) that
God put her in the cellar of wine and ordained charity in her?
Well, that is the position here. That soul has now delivered
itself into His hands and His great love has so completely subdued
it that it neither knows nor desires anything save that God shall
do with it what He wills. Never, I think, will God grant this
favour save to the soul which He takes for His very own. His will
is that, without understanding how, the soul shall go thence
sealed with His seal. In reality, the soul in that state does no
more than the wax when a seal is impressed upon it -- the wax does
not impress itself; it is only prepared for the impress: that is,
it is soft -- and it does not even soften itself so as to be
prepared; it merely remains quiet and consenting. Oh, goodness of
God, that all this should be done at Thy cost! Thou dost require
only our wills and dost ask that Thy wax may offer no impediment.

Here, then, sisters, you see what our God does to the soul in this
state so that it may know itself to be His. He gives it something
of His own, which is what His Son had in this life: He can grant
us no favour greater than that. Who could have wanted to depart
from this life more than His Son did? As, indeed, His Majesty said
at the Last Supper: "With desire have I desired."135 "Did not the
painful death that Thou wert to die present itself to Thee, O
Lord, as something grievous and terrible?" "No, because My great
love and My desire that souls shall be saved transcend these pains
beyond all comparison and the very terrible things that I have
suffered since I lived in the world, and still suffer, are such
that by comparison with them these are nothing."

I have often thought about this: I know that the torment which a
certain person of my acquaintance136 has suffered, and suffers
still, at seeing the Lord offended, is so intolerable that she
would far sooner die than suffer it. And, I reflected, if a soul
which has so very little charity by comparison with Christ's that
it might be said to be almost nothing beside His felt this torment
to be so intolerable, what must the feelings of Our Lord Jesus
Christ have been, and what a life must He have lived, if He saw
everything and was continually witnessing the great offenses which
were being committed against His Father? I think this must
certainly have caused Him much greater grief than the pains of His
most sacred Passion; for there He could see the end of His trials;
and that sight, together with the satisfaction of seeing our
redemption achieved through His death, and of proving what love He
had for His Father by suffering so much for Him, would alleviate
His pains, just as, when those who have great strength of love
perform great penances, they hardly feel them, and would like to
do more and more, and everything that they do seems very small to
them. What, then, would His Majesty feel when He found Himself
able to prove so amply to His Father how completely He was
fulfilling the obligation of obedience to Him and showing His love
for His neighbour? Oh, the great delight of suffering in doing the
will of God! But the constant sight of so many offences committed
against His Majesty and so many souls going to hell must, I think,
have been so painful to Him that, had He not been more than man,
one day of that grief would have sufficed to put an end to any
number of lives that He might have had, let alone to one.

CHAPTER III

Continues the same matter. Describes another kind of union which,
with the help of God, the soul can attain, and the important part
played in it by the love of our neighbour. This chapter is of
great profit.

LET us now return to our little dove, and see something of what
God gives her in this state. It must always be understood that she
will try to advance in the service of Our Lord and in self-
knowledge. If she does no more than receive this favour, and, as
though she enjoyed complete security, begins to lead a careless
life and stray from the road to Heaven -- that is, from the
Commandments -- there will happen to her what happens to the
creature that comes out of the silkworm, which leaves seed for the
production of more silkworms and then dies for ever. I say it
leaves seed because for my own part I believe it is God's will
that so great a favour should not be given in vain, and that if
the soul that receives it does not profit by it others will do so.
For, as the soul possesses these aforementioned desires and
virtues, it will always profit other souls so long as it leads a
good life, and from its own heat new heat will be transmitted to
them. Even after losing this, it may still desire others to
profit, and take pleasure in describing the favours given by God
to those who love and serve Him.

I knew a person to whom this happened,137 and who, though having
herself gone far astray was glad that others should profit by the
favours God had shown her, she would describe the way of prayer to
those who did not understand it, and she brought them very, very
great profit.138 Later, the Lord gave her new light. It is true
that she had not yet experienced the effects which have been
mentioned. But how many are called by the Lord to apostleship, as
Judas was, and enjoy communion with Him, or are called to be made
kings, as Saul was, and afterwards, through their own fault, are
lost! From this, sisters, we may deduce that, if we are to acquire
increasing merit, and not, like Saul and Judas, to be lost, our
only possible safety consists in obedience and in never swerving
from the law of God; I am referring to those to whom He grants
these favours, and in fact to all.

Despite all I have said, this Mansion seems to me a little
obscure. There is a great deal to be gained by entering it, and
those from whom the Lord withholds such supernatural gifts will do
well to feel that they are not without hope; for true union can
quite well be achieved, with the favour of Our Lord, if we
endeavour to attain it by not following our own will but
submitting it to whatever is the will of God. Oh, how many of us
there are who say we do this and think we want nothing else, and
would die for this truth, as I believe I have said! For I tell
you, and I shall often repeat this, that when you have obtained
this favour from the Lord, you need not strive for that other
delectable union which has been described, for the most valuable
thing about it is that it proceeds from this union which I am now
describing; and we cannot attain to the heights I have spoken of
if we are not sure that we have the union in which we resign our
wills to the will of God.

Oh, how much to be desired is this union! Happy the soul that has
attained to it, for it will live peacefully both in this life and
in the next as well. Nothing that happens on earth will afflict it
unless it finds itself in peril of losing God, or sees that He is
offended -- neither sickness nor poverty nor death, except when
someone dies who was needed by the Church of God. For this soul
sees clearly that He knows what He does better than it knows
itself what it desires.

You must observe that there are many kinds of grief. Some of them
come upon us suddenly, in natural ways, just as pleasures do; they
may even arise from charity, which makes us pity our neighbours,
as Our Lord did when He raised Lazarus;139 and these do not
prevent union with the will of God, nor do they cause a restless,
unquiet passion which disturbs the soul and lasts for a long time.
They are griefs which pass quickly; for, as I said of joys in
prayer, they seem not to penetrate to the depth of the soul but
only reach these senses and faculties. They characterize all the
Mansions so far described but do not enter that which will be
dealt with last of all, from which the suspension of the faculties
already referred to is inseparable. The Lord can enrich souls in
many ways and bring them to these Mansions by many other paths
than the short cut which has been described.

But note very carefully, daughters, that the silkworm has of
necessity to die; and it is this which will cost you most; for
death comes more easily140 when one can see oneself living a new
life, whereas our duty now is to continue living this present
life, and yet to die of our own free will.141 I confess to you
that we shall find this much harder, but it is of the greatest
value and the reward will be greater too if you gain the victory.
But you must not doubt the possibility of this true union with the
will of God. This is the union which I have desired all my life;
it is for this that I continually beseech Our Lord; it is this
which is the most genuine and the safest.

But alas that so few of us are destined to attain it! A person who
takes care not to offend the Lord and has entered the religious
life may think he has done everything. But oh, there are always a
few little worms which do not reveal themselves until, like the
worm which gnawed through Jonas's ivy,142 they have gnawed through
our virtues. Such are self-love, self-esteem, censoriousness (even
if only in small things) concerning our neighbours, lack of
charity towards them, and failure to love them as we love
ourselves. For, although late in the day we may fulfil our
obligations and so commit no sin, we are far from attaining a
point necessary to complete union with the will of God.

What do you suppose His will is, daughters? That we should be
altogether perfect, and be one with Him and with the Father,143 as
in His Majesty's prayer. Consider what a long way we are from
attaining this. I assure you that it causes me real distress to
write in this way because I know how far I am from it myself, and
entirely through my own fault. For we do not require great favours
from the Lord before we can achieve this; He has given us all we
need in giving us His Son to show us the way. Do not think that
if, for example, my father or my brother dies, I ought to be in
such close conformity with the will of God that I shall not grieve
at his loss, or that, if I have trials or illnesses, I must enjoy
bearing them. It is good if we can do this and some times it is a
matter of common sense: being unable to help ourselves, we make a
virtue of necessity. How often philosophers used to act thus in
matters of this kind, or in similar matters -- and they were very
wise men! But here the Lord asks only two things of us: love for
His Majesty and love for our neighbour. It is for these two
virtues that we must strive, and if we attain them perfectly we
are doing His will and so shall be united with Him. But, as I have
said, how far we are from doing these two things in the way we
ought for a God Who is so great! May His Majesty be pleased to
give us grace so that we may deserve to reach this state, as it is
in our power to do if we wish.

The surest sign that we are keeping these two commandments is, I
think, that we should really be loving our neighbour; for we
cannot be sure if we are loving God, although we may have good
reasons for believing that we are, but we can know quite well if
we are loving our neighbour. And be certain that, the farther
advanced you find you are in this, the greater the love you will
have for God; for so dearly does His Majesty love us that He will
reward our love for our neighbour by increasing the love which we
bear to Himself, and that in a thousand ways: this I cannot doubt.

It is most important that we should proceed in this matter very
carefully, for, if we have attained great perfection here, we have
done everything. Our nature being so evil, I do not believe we
could ever attain perfect love for our neighbour unless it had its
roots in the love of God. Since this is so important, sisters, let
us strive to get to know ourselves better and better, even in the
very smallest matters, and take no notice of all the fine plans
which come crowding into our minds when we are at prayer, and
which we think we will put into practice and carry out for the
good of our neighbours in the hope of saving just one soul. If our
later actions are not in harmony with those plans, we can have no
reason for believing that we should ever have put them into
practice. I say the same of humility and of all the virtues; the
wiles of the devil are terrible, he will run a thousand times
round hell if by so doing he can make us believe that we have a
single virtue which we have not. And he is right, for such ideas
are very harmful, and such imaginary virtues, when they come from
this source, are never unaccompanied by vainglory; just as those
which God gives are free both from this and from pride.

I like the way in which some souls, when they are at prayer, think
that, for God's sake, they would be glad if they could be humbled
and put to open shame -- and then try to conceal quite a slight
failure. Oh, and if they should be accused of anything that they
have not done ---- ! God save us from having to listen to them
then! Let anyone who cannot bear trials like that be very careful
to pay no heed to the resolutions he may have made when he was
alone. For they could not in fact have been resolutions made by
the will (a genuine act of the will is quite another matter); they
must have been due to some freak of the imagination. The devil
makes good use of the imagination in practising his surprises and
deceptions, and there are many such which he can practise on
women, or on unlettered persons, because we do not understand the
difference between the faculties and the imagination, and
thousands of other things belonging to the interior life. Oh,
sisters, how clearly it can be seen what love of your neighbour
really means to some of you, and what an imperfect stage it has
reached in others! If you understood the importance of this virtue
to us all you would strive after nothing but gaining it.

When I see people very diligently trying to discover what kind of
prayer they are experiencing and so completely wrapt up144 in
their prayers that they seem afraid to stir, or to indulge in a
moment's thought, lest they should lose the slightest degree of
the tenderness and devotion which they have been feeling, I
realize how little they understand of the road to the attainment
of union. They think that the whole thing consists in this. But
no, sisters, no; what the Lord desires is works. If you see a sick
woman to whom you can give some help, never be affected by the
fear that your devotion will suffer, but take pity on her: if she
is in pain, you should feel pain too; if necessary, fast so that
she may have your food, not so much for her sake as because you
know it to be your Lord's will. That is true union with His will.
Again, if you hear someone being highly praised, be much more
pleased than if they were praising you; this is really easy if you
have humility, for in that case you will be sorry to hear yourself
praised. To be glad when your sisters' virtues are praised is a
great thing, and, when we see a fault in someone, we should be as
sorry about it as if it were our own and try to conceal it from
others.

I have said a great deal about this elsewhere,145 sisters, because
I know that, if we were to fail here, we should be lost. May the
Lord grant us never to fail, and, if that is to be so, I tell you
that you must not cease to beg His Majesty for the union which I
have described. It may be that you have experienced devotion and
consolations, so that you think you have reached this stage, and
even enjoyed some brief period of suspension in the Prayer of
Quiet, which some people always take to mean that everything is
accomplished. But, believe me, if you find you are lacking in this
virtue, you have not yet attained union. So ask Our Lord to grant
you this perfect love for your neighbour, and allow His Majesty to
work, and, if you use your best endeavours and strive after this
in every way that you can, He will give you more even than you can
desire. You must do violence to your own will, so that your
sister's will is done in everything, even though this may cause
you to forgo your own rights and forget your own good in your
concern for theirs, and however much your physical powers may
rebel. If the opportunity presents itself, too, try to shoulder
some trial in order to relieve your neighbour of it. Do not
suppose that it will cost you nothing or that you will find it all
done for you. Think what the love which our Spouse had for us cost
Him, when, in order to redeem us from death, He died such a
grievous death as the death of the Cross.

CHAPTER IV

Continues the same subject and gives a further explanation of this
kind of prayer. Describes the great importance of proceeding
carefully, since the devil is most careful to do all he can to
turn souls back from the road they have begun to tread.

I THINK you will be anxious now to learn what this little dove is
doing, and where it is going to settle, for of course it cannot
rest in spiritual consolations or in earthly pleasures. It is
destined to fly higher than this and I cannot fully satisfy your
anxiety until we come to the last Mansion. God grant I may
remember it then and find an opportunity to write about it, for
almost five months have passed since I began this book, and, as my
head is not in a fit state for me to read it through again, it
must all be very confused and I may possibly say a few things
twice over. As it is for my sisters, however, that matters little.

I want to explain to you still further what I think this Prayer of
Union is; and I will make a comparison as well as my wit will
allow. Afterwards we will say more about this little butterfly,
which never rests -- though it is always fruitful in doing good to
itself and to other souls -- because it has not yet found true
reposed.146 You will often have heard that God betrothes Himself
to souls spiritually. Blessed be His mercy, which is pleased so to
humble itself! I am only making a rough comparison, but I can find
no other which will better explain what I am trying to say than
the Sacrament of Matrimony. The two things work differently, for
in this matter which we are treating there is nothing that is not
spiritual: corporeal union is quite another thing and the
spiritual joys and consolations given by the Lord are a thousand
leagues removed from those experienced in marriage. It is all a
union of love with love, and its operations are entirely pure, and
so delicate and gentle that there is no way of describing them;
but the Lord can make the soul very deeply conscious of them.

It seems to me that this union has not yet reached the point of
spiritual betrothal, but is rather like what happens in our
earthly life when two people are about to be betrothed. There is a
discussion as to whether or no they are suited to each other and
are both in love; and then they meet again so that they may learn
to appreciate each other better. So it is here. The contract is
already drawn up and the soul has been clearly given to understand
the happiness of her lot and is determined to do all the will of
her Spouse in every way in which she sees that she can give Him
pleasure. His Majesty, Who will know quite well if this is the
case, is pleased with the soul, so He grants her this mercy,
desiring that she shall get to know Him better, and that, as we
may say, they shall meet together,147 and He shall unite her with
Himself. We can compare this kind of union to a short meeting of
that nature because it is over in the very shortest time. All
giving and taking have now come to an end and in a secret way the
soul sees Who this Spouse is that she is to take.148 By means of
the senses and faculties she could not understand in a thousand
years what she understands in this way in the briefest space of
time. But the Spouse, being Who He is, leaves her, after that one
visit, worthier to join hands (as people say) with Him; and the
soul becomes so fired with love that for her part she does her
utmost not to thwart this Divine betrothal. If she is neglectful,
however, and sets her affection on anything other than Himself,
she loses everything, and that is a loss every bit as great as are
the favours He has been granting her, which are far greater than
it is possible to convey.

So, Christian souls, whom the Lord has brought to this point on
your journey, I beseech you, for His sake, not to be negligent,
but to withdraw from occasions of sin -- for even in this state
the soul is not strong enough to be able to run into them safely,
as it is after the betrothal has been made -- that is to say, in
the Mansion which we shall describe after this one. For this
communication has been no more than (as we might say) one single
short meeting,149 and the devil will take great pains about
combating it and will try to hinder the betrothal. Afterwards,
when he sees that the soul is completely surrendered to the
Spouse, he dare not do this, for he is afraid of such a soul as
that, and he knows by experience that if he attempts anything of
the kind he will come out very much the loser and the soul will
achieve a corresponding gain.

I tell you, daughters, I have known people of a very high degree
of spirituality who have reached this state, and whom,
notwithstanding, the devil, with great subtlety and craft, has won
back to himself. For this purpose he will marshal all the powers
of hell, for, as I have often said, if he wins a single soul in
this way he will win a whole multitude. The devil has much
experience in this matter. If we consider what a large number of
people God can draw to Himself through the agency of a single
soul, the thought of the thousands converted by the martyrs gives
us great cause for praising God. Think of a maiden like Saint
Ursula. And of the souls whom the devil must have lost through
Saint Dominic and Saint Francis and other founders of Orders, and
is losing now through Father Ignatius, who founded the Company150
-- all of whom, of course, as we read, received such favours from
God! What did they do but endeavour that this Divine betrothal
should not be frustrated through their fault? Oh, my daughters,
how ready this Lord still is to grant us favours, just as He was
then! In some ways it is even more necessary that we should wish
to receive them, for there are fewer than there used to be who
think of the Lord's honour! We are so very fond of ourselves and
so very careful not to lose any of our rights! Oh, what a great
mistake we make! May the Lord in His mercy give us light lest we
fall into such darkness.

There are two things about which you may ask me, or be in doubt.
The first is this: If the soul is so completely at one with the
will of God, as has been said, how can it be deceived, since it
never desires to follow its own will? The second: By what avenues
can the devil enter and lead you into such peril that your soul
may be lost, when you are so completely withdrawn from the world
and so often approach the Sacraments? For you are enjoying the
companionship, as we might say, of angels, since, by the goodness
of the Lord, you have none of you any other desires than to serve
and please Him in everything. It would not be surprising, you
might add, if this should happen to those who are immersed in the
cares of the world. I agree that you are justified in asking this
-- God has been abundantly merciful to us. But when I read, as I
have said, that Judas enjoyed the companionship of the Apostles,
had continual intercourse with God Himself, and could listen to
His own words, I realize that even this does not guarantee our
safety.

To the first question, my reply would be that, if this soul
invariably followed the will of God, it is clear that it would not
be lost. But the devil comes with his artful wiles, and, under
colour of doing good, sets about undermining it in trivial ways,
and involving it in practices which, so he gives it to understand,
are not wrong; little by little he darkens its understanding, and
weakens its will, and causes its self-love to increase, until in
one way and another he begins to withdraw it from the love of God
and to persuade it to indulge its own wishes. And this is also an
answer to the second question, for there is no enclosure so
strictly guarded that he cannot enter it, and no desert so
solitary that he cannot visit it. And I would make one further
remark -- namely, that the reason the Lord permits this may
possibly be so that He may observe the behaviour of the soul which
He wishes to set up as a light to others; for, if it is going to
be a failure, it is better that it should be so at the outset than
when it can do many souls harm.

What we should be most diligent about, I think, is this. First, we
must continually ask God in our prayers to keep us in His hand,
and bear constantly in mind that, if He leaves us, we shall at
once be down in the depths, as indeed we shall. So we must never
have any confidence in ourselves -- that would simply be folly.
But most of all we must walk with special care and attention, and
watch what progress we make in the virtues, and discover if, in
any way, we are either improving or going back, especially in our
love for each other and in our desire to be thought least of, and
in ordinary things; for if we look to this, and beg the Lord to
give us light, we shall at once discern whether we have gained or
lost. Do not suppose, then, that when God brings a soul to such a
point He lets it go so quickly out of His hand that the devil can
recapture it without much labour. His Majesty is so anxious for it
not to be lost that He gives it a thousand interior warnings of
many kinds, and thus it cannot fail to perceive the danger.

Let the conclusion of the whole matter be this. We must strive all
the time to advance, and, if we are not advancing, we must cherish
serious misgivings, as the devil is undoubtedly anxious to
exercise his wiles upon us. For it is unthinkable that a soul
which has arrived so far should cease to grow: love is never idle,
so failure to advance would be a very bad sign. A soul which has
once set out to be the bride of God Himself, and has already had
converse with His Majesty and reached the point which has been
described, must not lie down and go to sleep again. And so that
you may see, daughters, how Our Lord treats those whom He makes
His brides, let us begin to discuss the sixth Mansions, and you
will see how slight is all the service we can render Him, all the
suffering we can undergo for Him, and all the preparation we can
make for such great favours. It may have been by Our Lord's
ordinance that I was commanded to write this so that we shall
forget our trivial earthly pleasures when we fix our eyes on the
reward and see how boundless is the mercy which makes Him pleased
to communicate and reveal Himself in this way to us worms. So,
fired by love of Him, we shall run our race, with our eyes fixed
upon His greatness.

May He be pleased to enable me to explain something of these
difficult things, which I know will be impossible unless His
Majesty and the Holy Spirit151 guide my pen. Were it not to be for
your profit I should beseech Him to prevent me from explaining any
of it, for His Majesty knows that, so far as I myself can judge,
my sole desire is that His name should be praised, and that we
should make every effort to serve a Lord Who gives us such a
reward here below, and thus conveys to us some idea of what He
will give us in Heaven, without the delays and trials and perils
incident to this sea of tempests. For, were it not that we might
lose Him and offend Him, it would be a comfort if our life did not
end until the end of the world, so that we could work for so great
a God and Lord and Spouse. May it please His Majesty that we be
worthy to do Him some service, unmarred by the many faults that we
always commit, even in doing our good works! Amen.

SIXTH MANSIONS

In which there are Eleven Chapters.

CHAPTER I

Shows how, when the Lord begins to grant the soul greater favours,
it has also to endure greater trials. Enumerates some of these and
describes how those who are in this Mansion must conduct
themselves. This is a good chapter for any who suffer interior
trials.

LET US now, with the help of the Holy Spirit, come to speak of the
sixth Mansions, in which the soul has been wounded with love for
the Spouse and seeks more opportunity of being alone, trying, so
far as is possible to one in its state, to renounce everything
which can disturb it in this its solitude. That sight of Him which
it has had is so deeply impressed upon it that its whole desire is
to enjoy it once more. Nothing, I must repeat, is seen in this
state of prayer which can be said to be really seen, even by the
imagination; I use the word "sight" because of the comparison I
made.

The soul is now completely determined to take no other spouse; but
the Spouse disregards its yearnings for the conclusion of the
Betrothal, desiring that they should become still deeper and that
this greatest of all blessings should be won by the soul at some
cost to itself. And although everything is of but slight
importance by comparison with the greatness of this gain, I assure
you, daughters, that, if the soul is to bear its trials, it has no
less need of the sign and token of this gain which it now holds.
Oh, my God, how great are these trials, which the soul will
suffer, both within and without, before it enters the seventh
Mansion!152 Really, when I think of them, I am sometimes afraid
that, if we realized their intensity beforehand, it would be most
difficult for us, naturally weak as we are, to muster
determination enough to enable us to suffer them or resolution
enough for enduring them, however attractively the advantage of so
doing might be presented to us, until we reached the seventh
Mansion, where there is nothing more to be feared, and the soul
will plunge deep into suffering for God's sake. The reason for
this is that the soul is almost continuously near His Majesty and
its nearness brings it fortitude. I think it will be well if I
tell you about some of the things which I know are certain to
happen here. Not all souls, perhaps, will be led along this path,
though I doubt very much if souls which from time to time really
taste the things of Heaven can live in freedom from earthly
trials, in one way or in another.

Although I had not intended to treat of this, it has occurred to
me that some soul finding itself in this state might be very much
comforted if it knew what happens to those whom God grants such
favours, at a time when everything really seems to be lost. I
shall not take these experiences in the order in which they
happen, but as each one presents itself to my memory. I will begin
with the least of them. An outcry is made by people with whom such
a person is acquainted, and even by those with whom she is not
acquainted and who she never in her life supposed would think
about her at all. "How holy she's getting!" they exclaim, or
"She's only going to these extremes to deceive the world and to
make other people look sinful, when really they are better
Christians than she is without any of these goings-on!" (Notice,
by the way, that she is not really indulging in any "goings-on" at
all: she is only trying to live up to her profession.) Then people
whom she had thought her friends abandon her and it is they who
say the worst things of all and express the deepest regret that
(as they put it) she is "going to perdition" and "obviously being
deluded", that "this is the devil's work", that "she's going the
way of So-and-so and So-and-so, who ruined their own lives and
dragged good people down with them", and that "she takes in all
her confessors". And they actually go to her confessors and tell
them so, illustrating what they say by stories of some who ruined
their lives in this way: and they scoff at the poor creature and
talk about her like this times without number.

I know of a person153 to whom these things were happening and who
was terribly afraid that there would be nobody willing to hear her
confession; but there is so much I could say about that that I
will not stop to tell it here. The worst of it is, these things
are not soon over -- they last all one's life long. People warn
each other to be careful not to have anything to do with persons
like oneself. You will tell me that there are also those who speak
well of one. But oh, daughters, how few there are who believe the
good things they say by comparison with the many who dislike us!
In any case, to be well spoken of is only one trial more and a
worse one than those already mentioned. For the soul sees quite
clearly that if there is any good in it this is a gift of God, and
not in the least due to itself, for only a short time previously
it saw itself in dire poverty and plunged deep into sin. So this
praise is an intolerable torment to it, at least at the beginning:
afterwards it is less so, and this for various reasons. The first
of these is that experience shows it clearly how people will speak
well of others as readily as ill, and so it takes no more notice
of the former class than of the latter. The second, that the Lord
has given it greater light and shown it that anything good it may
have does not come from itself, but is His Majesty's gift; so it
breaks into praises of God, but as though He were being gracious
to a third person, and forgetting that it is itself concerned at
all. The third reason is that, having seen others helped by
observing the favours which God is granting it, the soul thinks
that His Majesty has been pleased for them to think of it as good,
though in fact it is not, so that they may be profited. The fourth
is that, as the soul now prizes the honour and glory of God more
than its own honour and glory, it no longer suffers from a
temptation which beset it at first -- namely, to think that these
praises will do it harm, as it has seen them do to others. It
cares little about being dishonoured itself, provided that it can
be the cause of God's being even once praised -- come afterwards
what may.

These and other considerations mitigate the great distress caused
by such praises, although some distress is nearly always felt,
except when a soul takes no notice of such things whatsoever. But
to find itself publicly and unmeritedly described as good is an
incomparably greater trial than any of those already mentioned.
Once the soul has learned to care little about this, it cares very
much less about the other, which, indeed, makes it rejoice and
sounds to it like sweetest music. This is absolutely true. The
soul is fortified rather than daunted by censure, for experience
has shown how great are the benefits it can bring, and it seems to
the soul that its persecutors are not offending God, but that His
Majesty is permitting this for its great advantage. Being quite
clear about this, it conceives a special and most tender love for
them and thinks of them as truer friends and greater benefactors
than those who speak well of it.

The Lord is also in the habit of sending the most grievous
infirmities. This is a much greater trial, especially if the pains
are severe; in some ways, when they are very acute, I think they
are the greatest earthly trial that exists -- the greatest of
exterior trials, I mean -- however many a soul may suffer: I
repeat that it is only to very acute pains that I am referring.
For they affect the soul both outwardly and inwardly, till it
becomes so much oppressed as not to know what to do with itself,
and would much rather suffer any martyrdom than these pains.
Still, at the very worst, they do not last so long -- no longer,
as a rule, than other bad illnesses do. For, after all, God gives
us no more than we can bear, and He gives patience first.

I know a person of whom, since the Lord began to grant her this
favour aforementioned, forty years ago,154 it cannot be truly said
that she has been a day without pains and other kinds of
suffering; I mean because of her poor physical health, to say
nothing of other great trials. It is true that she had been very
wicked and it was all very slight by comparison with the hell that
she had merited. Others, who have not so greatly offended Our
Lord, will be led by Him along another way, but I should always
choose the way of suffering, if only to imitate Our Lord Jesus
Christ, and even were there no other special benefit to be
obtained from it -- and there are always a great many. But oh,
when we come to interior sufferings! If these could be described
they would make all physical sufferings seem very slight, but it
is impossible to describe interior sufferings and how they happen.

Let us begin with the torture which it costs us to have to do with
a confessor so scrupulous and inexperienced that he thinks nothing
safe: he is afraid of everything, and doubtful about everything,
as soon as he sees that he is dealing with anything out of the
ordinary. This is particularly so if he sees any imperfection in
the soul that is undergoing these experiences. He thinks that
people to whom God grants these favours must be angels; and, as
this is impossible while they are in the body, he attributes the
whole thing to melancholy or to the devil. The world is so full of
melancholy that this certainly does not surprise me; for there is
so much abroad just now, and the devil makes so much use of it to
work harm, that confessors have very good cause to be afraid of it
and to watch for it very carefully. But, when the poor soul,
harassed by the same fear, goes to the confessor as to a judge,
and he condemns her, she cannot fail to be upset and tortured by
what he says -- and only a person who has passed through such a
trial will know how great it is. For this is another of the great
trials suffered by these souls, especially if they have been
wicked -- namely, to think that because of their sins God will
permit them to be deceived -- and although, when His Majesty
grants them this favour, they feel secure and cannot believe that
it comes from any other spirit than a spirit of God, yet, as it is
a state which passes quickly, and the soul is ever mindful of its
sins, and it sees faults in itself -- for these are never lacking
-- it then begins to suffer this torture. When the confessor
reassures the soul, it becomes calm, though in due course it gets
troubled again; but when all he can do is to make it still more
fearful the thing grows almost intolerable, especially when on top
of everything else come periods of aridity, during which the soul
feels as if it has never known God and never will know Him, and as
if to hear His Majesty spoken of is like hearing of a person from
a great distance away.

All this would be nothing to the person concerned were it not
followed immediately by the thought that she cannot be describing
her case properly to her confessor and has been deceiving him;
and, although when she thinks about it she feels sure she has not
kept back even the first movement of her mind, it is of no use.
For her understanding is so dim that it is incapable of seeing the
truth, but believes what the imagination (now mistress of the
understanding) presents to it and the nonsense which the devil
attempts to present to it, when Our Lord gives him leave to test
her soul, and even to make her think herself cast off by God. For
there are many things which assault her soul with an interior
oppression so keenly felt and so intolerable that I do not know to
what it can be compared, save to the torment of those who suffer
in hell, for in this spiritual tempest no consolation is possible.

If she decides to take up the matter with her confessor, it would
look as if the devils have come to his aid so that he may torture
her soul the more. A certain confessor, dealing with a person who
had been in this state of torment, after it had passed away,
thought that the oppression must have been of a dangerous type,
since it had involved her in so many trials; so he told her,
whenever she was in this state, to report to him; but this made
her so much worse that he came to realize that he could no longer
do anything with her. For, although she was quite able to read,
she found that, if she took up a book written in the vernacular,
she could understand no more of it than if she had not known her
alphabet; her understanding was not capable of taking it in.

Briefly, in this tempest, there is no help for it but to wait upon
the mercy of God, Who suddenly, at the most unlooked-for hour,
with a single word, or on some chance occasion, lifts the whole of
this burden from the soul, so that it seems as if it has never
been clouded over, but is full of sunshine and far happier than it
was before. Then, like one who has escaped from a perilous battle
and gained the victory, the soul keeps praising Our Lord, for it
is He Who has fought and enabled it to conquer. It knows very well
that it did not itself do the fighting. For it saw that all the
weapons with which it could defend itself were in the hands of its
enemy, and was thus clearly aware of its misery and realized how
little we can do of ourselves if the Lord should forsake us.

We have no need of reflection to enable us to understand this, for
the soul's experience of enduring it, and of having found itself
completely powerless, has made it realize that it is utterly
helpless and that we are but miserable creatures. For, though it
cannot be devoid of grace, since despite all this torment it does
not offend God, and would not do so for anything upon earth, yet
this grace is buried so deeply that the soul seems not to feel the
smallest spark of any love for God, nor has it ever done so. If it
has done anything good, or His Majesty has granted it any favour,
the whole thing seems to it like a dream or a fancy: all it knows
for certain is that it has sinned.

Oh, Jesus! How sad it is to see a soul thus forsaken, and how
little, as I have said, can it gain from any earthly consolation!
So do not suppose, sisters, if you ever find yourselves in this
condition, that people who are wealthy, or free to do as they
like, have any better remedy for such times. No, no; to offer them
earthly consolations would be like telling criminals condemned to
death about all the joys that there are in the world; not only
would this fail to comfort them -- it would but increase their
torment; comfort must come to them from above, for earthly things
are of no value to them any more. This great God desires us to
know that He is a King and we are miserable creatures -- a point
of great importance for what follows.

Now what will a poor creature like that do if such a thing goes on
for a very long time?155 If she prays, she might as well not be
doing so at all -- I mean for all the comfort it will bring her,
for interiorly she is incapable of receiving any comfort, nor,
even when her prayer is vocal, can she understand what she is
saying; while mental prayer at such a time is certainly impossible
-- her faculties are not capable of it. Solitude is still worse
for her, though it is also torture for her to be in anyone's
company or to be spoken to; and so, despite all her efforts to
conceal the fact, she becomes outwardly upset and despondent, to a
very noticeable extent. Is it credible that she will be able to
say what is the matter with her? The thing is inexpressible, for
this distress and oppression are spiritual troubles and cannot be
given a name. The best medicine -- I do not say for removing the
trouble, for I know of none for that, but for enabling the soul to
endure it -- is to occupy oneself with external affairs and works
of charity and to hope in God's mercy, which never fails those who
hope in Him. May He be blessed for ever. Amen.156

Other trials caused by devils, which are of an exterior kind, will
not occur so commonly and thus there is no reason to speak of them
nor are they anything like so grievous. For, whatever these devils
do, they cannot, in my opinion, go so far as to inhibit the
working of the faculties or to disturb the soul, in the way
already described. After all, it thinks (and rightly), they cannot
do more than the Lord permits, and, so long as it is not lost,
nothing matters much by comparison with what has been described
above.

We shall next deal with other interior troubles which occur in
these Mansions, treating of the different kinds of prayer and
favours of the Lord; for, although a few are still harder to bear
than those referred to, as will be seen by the effects which they
leave upon the body, they do not merit the name of trial, nor is
it right that we should give them that name, since they are such
great favours of the Lord and the soul understands them to be so,
and far beyond its deservings. This severe distress comes just
before the soul's entrance into the seventh Mansion, together with
many more, only a few of which I shall describe, as it would be
impossible to speak of them all, or even to explain their nature.
For they are of another type than those already mentioned, and a
much higher one; and if, in dealing with those of a lower kind, I
have not been able to explain myself in greater detail, still less
shall I be able to explain these others. The Lord give me His help
in everything I do, through the merits of His Son. Amen.

CHAPTER II

Treats of several ways in which Our Lord awakens the soul; there
appears to be nothing in these to be feared, although the
experience is most sublime and the favours are great ones.

WE seem to have left the little dove a long way behind, but we
have not done so in reality, for these very trials enable it to
make a higher flight. So let us now begin to treat of the way in
which the Spouse deals with it, and see how, before it is wholly
one with Him, He fills it with fervent desire, by means so
delicate that the soul itself does not understand them, nor do I
think I shall succeed in describing them in such a way as to be
understood, except by those who have experienced it; for these are
influences so delicate and subtle that they proceed from the very
depth of the heart and I know no comparison that I can make which
will fit the case.

All this is very different from what one can achieve in earthly
maters, and even from the consolations which have been described.
For often when a person is quite unprepared for such a thing, and
is not even thinking of God, he is awakened by His Majesty, as
though by a rushing comet or a thunderclap. Although no sound is
heard,157 the soul is very well aware that it has been called by
God, so much so that sometimes, especially at first, it begins to
tremble and complain, though it feels nothing that causes it
affliction. It is conscious of having been most delectably
wounded, but cannot say how or by whom; but it is certain that
this is a precious experience and it would be glad if it were
never to be healed of that wound. It complains to its Spouse with
words of love, and even cries aloud, being unable to help itself,
for it realizes that He is present but will not manifest Himself
in such a way as to allow it to enjoy Him, and this is a great
grief, though a sweet and delectable one; even if it should desire
not to suffer it, it would have no choice -- but in any case it
never would so desire. It is much more satisfying to a soul than
is the delectable absorption, devoid of distress, which occurs in
the Prayer of Quiet.

I am straining every nerve,158 sisters, to explain to you this
operation of love, yet I do not know any way of doing so. For it
seems a contradiction to say that the Beloved is making it very
clear that He is with the soul and seems to be giving it such a
clear sign that He is calling it that it cannot doubt the fact,
and that the call is so penetrating that it cannot fail to hear
Him. For the Spouse, Who is in the seventh Mansion, seems to be
calling the soul in a way which involves no clear utterance of
speech, and none of the inhabitants of the other Mansions -- the
senses, the imagination or the faculties -- dares to stir. Oh, my
powerful God, how great are Thy secrets, and how different are
spiritual things from any that can be seen or understood here
below. There is no way of describing this favour, small though it
is by comparison with the signal favours which souls are granted
by Thee.

So powerful is the effect of this upon the soul that it becomes
consumed with desire, yet cannot think what to ask, so clearly
conscious is it of the presence of its God. Now, if this is so,
you will ask me what it desires or what causes it distress. What
greater blessing can it wish for? I cannot say; I know that this
distress seems to penetrate to its very bowels; and that, when He
that has wounded it draws out the arrow, the bowels seem to come
with it, so deeply does it feel this love. I have just been
wondering if my God could be described as the fire in a lighted
brazier, from which some spark will fly out and touch the soul, in
such a way that it will be able to feel the burning heat of the
fire; but, as the fire is not hot enough to burn it up, and the
experience is very delectable, the soul continues to feel that
pain and the mere touch suffices to produce that effect in it.
This seems the best comparison that I have been able to find, for
this delectable pain, which is not really pain, is not continuous:
sometimes it lasts for a long time, while sometimes it comes
suddenly to an end, according to the way in which the Lord is
pleased to bestow it, for it is a thing which no human means can
procure. Although occasionally the experience lasts for a certain
length of time, it goes and comes again; it is, in short, never
permanent, and for that reason it never completely enkindles the
soul; for, just as the soul is about to become enkindled, the
spark dies, and leaves the soul yearning once again to suffer that
loving pain of which it is the cause.

It cannot for a moment be supposed that this is a phenomenon which
has its source in the physical nature, or that it is caused by
melancholy, or that it is a deception of the devil, or a mere
fancy. It is perfectly clear that it is a movement of which the
source is the Lord, Who is unchangeable; and its effects are not
like those of other devotions whose genuineness we doubt because
of the intense absorption of the joy which we experience. Here all
the senses and faculties are active, and there is no absorption;
they are on the alert to discover what can be happening, and, so
far as I can see, they cause no disturbance, and can neither
increase this delectable pain nor remove it. Anyone to whom Our
Lord has granted this favour will recognize the fact on reading
this; he must give Him most heartfelt thanks and must not fear
that it may be deception; let his chief fear be rather lest he
show ingratitude for so great a favour, and let him endeavour to
serve God and to grow better all his life long and he will see the
result of this and find himself receiving more and more. One
person who was granted this favour spent several years in the
enjoyment of it and so completely did it satisfy her that, if she
had served the Lord for very many years by suffering great trials,
she would have felt well rewarded. May He be blessed for ever and
ever. Amen.

It may be that you wonder why greater security can be felt about
this than about other things. For the following reasons, I think.
First, because so delectable a pain can never be bestowed upon the
soul by the devil: he can give pleasures and delights which seem
to be spiritual, but it is beyond his power to unite pain -- and
such a great pain! -- with tranquillity and joy in the soul; for
all his powers are in the external sphere, and, when he causes
pain, it is never, to my mind, delectable or peaceful, but
restless and combative. Secondly, this delectable tempest comes
from another region than those over which he has authority.
Thirdly, great advantages accrue to the soul, which, as a general
rule, becomes filled with a determination to suffer for God's sake
and to desire to have many trials to endure, and to be very much
more resolute in withdrawing from the pleasures and intercourse of
this world, and other things like them.

That this is no fancy is very evident; on other occasions the
devil may create fancies of the kind, but he will never be able to
counterfeit this. It is so wonderful a thing that it cannot
possibly be created by the fancy (I mean, one cannot think it is
there when it is not) nor can the soul doubt that it is there; if
any doubt about it remains -- I mean, if the soul doubts whether
or no it has experienced it -- it can be sure that the impulses
are not genuine, for we perceive it as clearly as we hear a loud
voice with our ears. Nor is there any possible way in which it can
be due to melancholy, for the fancies created by melancholy exist
only in the imagination, whereas this proceeds from the interior
of the soul. I may conceivably be mistaken; but, until I hear
arguments to the contrary from someone who understands the matter,
I shall always be of this opinion; I know, for example, of a
person who was terribly afraid of being deceived in this way, and
yet who never had any fears about this kind of prayer.

Our Lord, too, has other methods of awakening the soul. Quite
unexpectedly, when engaged in vocal prayer and not thinking of
interior things, it seems, in some wonderful way, to catch fire.
It is just as though there suddenly assailed it a fragrance so
powerful that it diffused itself through all the senses or
something of that kind (I do not say it is a fragrance; I merely
make the comparison) in order to convey to it the consciousness
that the Spouse is there. The soul is moved by a delectable desire
to enjoy Him and this disposes it to make many acts and to sing
praises to Our Lord. The source of this favour is that already
referred to; but there is nothing here that causes pain, nor are
the soul's desires to enjoy God in any way painful. This is what
is most usually felt by the soul. For several of the reasons
already alleged I do not think there is much reason here for fear;
one must endeavour to receive this favour and give thanks for it.

CHAPTER III

Treats of the same subject and describes the way in which, when He
is pleased to do so, God speaks to the soul. Gives instructions as
to how we should behave in such a case: we must not be guided by
our own opinions. Sets down a few signs by which we may know when
this favour is, and when it is not, a deception. This chapter is
very profitable.

THERE is another way in which God awakens the soul, and which,
although in some respects it seems a greater favour than the
others, may also be more perilous. For this reason I will spend a
short time in describing it. This awakening of the soul is
effected by means of locutions, which are of many kinds.159 Some
of them seem to come from without; others from the innermost
depths of the soul; others from its higher part; while others,
again, are so completely outside the soul that they can be heard
with the ears, and seem to be uttered by a human voice. Sometimes
-- often, indeed -- this may be a fancy, especially in persons who
are melancholy -- I mean, are affected by real melancholy -- or
have feeble imaginations.

Of persons of these two kinds no notice should be taken, in my
view, even if they say they see or hear or are given to understand
things, nor should one upset them by telling them that their
experiences come from the devil. One should listen to them as one
would to sick persons; and the prioress, or the confessor, or
whatever person they confide in, should advise them to pay no heed
to the matter, because the service of God does not consist in
things like these, over which many have been deceived by the
devil, although this may not be so with them. One should humour
such people so as not to distress them further. If one tells them
they are suffering from melancholy, there will be no end to it.
They will simply swear they see and hear things, and really
believe that they do.

The real solution is to see that such people have less time for
prayer, and also that, as far as is possible, they attach no
importance to these fancies. For the devil is apt to take
advantage of the infirmity of these souls, to the injury of
others, if not to their own as well. Both with infirm and with
healthy souls there is invariably cause for misgivings about these
things until it becomes clear what kind of spirit is responsible.
I believe, too, that it is always better for them to dispense with
such things at first, for, if they are of God, dispensing with
them will help us all the more to advance, since, when put to the
proof in this way, they will tend to increase. Yet the soul should
not be allowed to become depressed or disquieted, for it really
cannot help itself.

Returning now to what I was saying about locutions, these may come
from God, in any of the ways I have mentioned, or they may equally
well come from the devil or from one's own imagination. I will
describe, if I can, with the Lord's help, the signs by which these
locutions differ from one another and when they are dangerous. For
there are many people given to prayer who experience them, and I
would not have you think you are doing wrong, sisters, whether or
no you give them credence, when they are only for your own
benefit, to comfort you or to warn you of your faults. In such
cases it matters little from whom they proceed or if they are only
fancies. But of one thing I will warn you: do not think that, even
if your locutions come from God, you will for that reason be any
the better. After all, He talked a great deal with the Pharisees:
any good you may gain will depend upon how you profit by what you
hear. Unless it agrees strictly with the Scriptures, take no more
notice of it than you would if it came from the devil himself. The
words may, in fact, come only from your weak imagination, but they
must be taken as a temptation against things pertaining to the
Faith and must therefore invariably be resisted so that they may
gradually cease; and cease they will, because they will have
little power of their own.

To return, then, to our first point: whether they come from
within, from above or from without, has nothing to do with their
coming from God. The surest signs that one can have of their doing
this are, in my opinion, as follows. The first and truest is the
sense of power and authority which they bear with them, both in
themselves and in the actions which follow them. I will explain
myself further. A soul is experiencing all the interior
disturbances and tribulations which have been described, and all
the aridity and darkness of the understanding. A single word of
this kind -- just a "Be not troubled" -- is sufficient to calm it.
No other word need be spoken; a great light comes to it; and all
its trouble is lifted from it, although it had been thinking that,
if the whole world, and all the learned men in the world, were to
combine to give it reasons for not being troubled, they could not
relieve it from its distress, however hard they might strive to do
so. Or a soul is distressed because its confessor, and others,
have told it that what it has is a spirit sent by the devil, and
it is full of fear. Yet that single word which it hears: "It is I,
fear not,"160 takes all its fear from it, and it is most
marvellously comforted, and believes that no one will ever be able
to make it feel otherwise. Or it is greatly exercised because of
some important piece of business and it has no idea how this will
turn out. It is then given to understand that it must be, and all
will turn out well; and it acquires a new confidence and is no
longer troubled. And so with many other things.

The second sign is that a great tranquillity dwells in the soul,
which becomes peacefully and devoutly recollected, and ready to
sing praises to God. Oh, Lord, if there is such power in a word
sent by one of Thy messengers (for they say that, in this Mansion,
at least, such words are uttered, not by the Lord Himself, but by
some angel), what power wilt Thou not leave in the soul that is
bound to Thee, as art Thou to it, by love.

The third sign is that these words do not vanish from the memory
for a very long time: some, indeed, never vanish at all. Words
which we hear on earth -- I mean, from men, however weighty and
learned they may be -- we do not bear so deeply engraven upon our
memory, nor, if they refer to the future, do we give credence to
them as we do to these locutions. For these last impress us by
their complete certainty, in such a way that, although sometimes
they seem quite impossible of fulfilment, and we cannot help
wondering if they will come true or not, and although our
understanding may hesitate about it, yet within the soul itself
there is a certainty which cannot be overcome. It may seem to the
soul that everything is moving in the contrary direction to what
it had been led to expect, and yet, even if many years go by, it
never loses its belief that, though God may use other means
incomprehensible to men, in the end what He has said will come
true; as in fact it does. None the less, as I say, the soul is
distressed when it sees things going badly astray. It may be some
time since it heard the words; and both their working within it
and the certainty which it had at the time that they came from God
have passed away. So these doubts arise, and the soul wonders if
the whole thing came from the devil, or can have been the work of
the imagination. Yet at the time it had no such doubts and it
would have died in defence of their veracity. But, as I say, all
these imaginings must be put into our minds by the devil in order
to distress us and make us fearful, especially if the matter is
one in which obeying the locutions will bring others many
blessings, or produce good works tending greatly to the honour and
service of God but presenting considerable difficulties. What will
the devil not do in this case by encouraging such misgivings? At
the very least he will weaken the soul's faith, for it is most
harmful not to believe that God is powerful and can do works which
are incomprehensible to our understanding.

Despite all these conflicts, despite the assertions of some (I
refer to confessors) that these locutions are pure nonsense; and
despite all the unfortunate happenings which may persuade the soul
that they cannot come true, there still remains within it such a
living spark of conviction that they will come true (whence this
arises I cannot tell) that, though all other hopes may be dead,
this spark of certainty could not fail to remain alive, even if
the soul wished it to die. And in the end, as I have said, the
Lord's word is fulfilled, and the soul is so happy and glad that
it would like to do nothing but praise His Majesty everlastingly -
- much more, however, because it has seen His assurances come true
than because of the occurrence itself, even though this may be of
very great consequence to it.

I do not know why it is, but the soul is so anxious for these
assurances to be proved true that it would not, I think, feel it
so much if it were itself caught in the act of lying -- as though
it could do anything more in the matter than repeat what is said
to it! In this connection a certain person used continually to
recall what happened to the prophet Jonas, when he feared that
Ninive was not to be destroyed.161 Of course, as the locutions
come from the Spirit of God, it is right that we should have this
trust in Him, and desire that He should never be thought false,
since He is Supreme Truth. Great, therefore, is the joy of one
who, after a thousand vicissitudes and in the most difficult
circumstances, sees His word come true; such a person may himself
have to suffer great trials on that account, but he would rather
do this than that what he holds the Lord most certainly told him
should not come to pass. Not everybody, perhaps, will have this
weakness -- if weakness it is, for I cannot myself condemn it as
wrong.

If the locutions come from the imagination, none of these signs
occur, nor is there any certainty or peace or interior
consolation. It might, however, happen (and I even know of a few
people to whom it has happened) that, when a person is deeply
absorbed in the Prayer of Quiet and in spiritual sleep (for some,
because of the weakness of their constitution, or of their
imagination, or for some other reason, are so entirely carried out
of themselves in this act of deep recollection, that they are
unconscious of everything external, and all their senses are in
such a state of slumber that they are like a person asleep -- at
times, indeed, they may even be asleep), he thinks that the
locutions come to him in a kind of dream, and sees things and
believes that these things are of God, and the effects of these
locutions resemble those of a dream. It may also happen that, when
such a person asks something of Our Lord with a great love, he
thinks that the voices are telling him what he wants to be told;
this does in fact sometimes happen. But anyone who has much
experience of locutions coming from God will not, I think, be
deceived in this way by the imagination.

The devil's locutions are more to be feared than those which come
from the imagination; but, if the locutions are accompanied by the
signs already described, one may be very confident that they are
of God, although not to such an extent that, if what is said is of
great importance and involves some action on the part of the
hearer, or matters affecting a third person, one should do
anything about it, or consider doing anything, without taking the
advice of a learned confessor, a man of clear insight and a
servant of God, even though one may understand the locutions
better and better and it may become evident that they are of God.
For this is His Majesty's will, so by carrying it out we are not
failing to do what He commands: He has told us that we are to put
our confessor in His place, even when it cannot be doubted that
the words are His. If the matter is a difficult one, these words
will help to give us courage and Our Lord will speak to the
confessor and if such is His pleasure will make him recognize the
work of His spirit; if He does not, we have no further
obligations. I consider it very dangerous for a person to do
anything but what he has been told to do and to follow his own
opinion in this matter; so I admonish you, sisters, in Our Lord's
name, never to act thus.

There is another way in which the Lord speaks to the soul, which
for my own part I hold to be very certainly genuine, and that is
by a kind of intellectual vision, the nature of which I will
explain later. So far down in the depths of the soul does this
contact take place, so clearly do the words spoken by the Lord
seem to be heard with the soul's own faculty of hearing, and so
secretly are they uttered, that the very way in which the soul
understands them, together with the effects produced by the vision
itself, convinces it and makes it certain that no part in the
matter is being played by the devil. The wonderful effects it
produces are sufficient to make us believe this; at least one is
sure that the locutions do not proceed from the imagination, and,
if one reflects upon it, one can always be certain of this, for
the following reasons.

The first reason is that some locutions are very much clearer than
others. The genuine locution is so clear that, even if it consists
of a long exhortation, the hearer notices the omission of a single
syllable, as well as the phraseology which is used; but in
locutions which are created fancifully by the imagination the
voice will be less clear and the words less distinct, they will be
like something heard in a half-dream.

The second reason is that often the soul has not been thinking of
what it hears -- I mean that the voice comes unexpectedly,
sometimes even during a conversation, although it frequently has
reference to something that was passing quickly through the mind
or to what one was previously thinking of. But often it refers to
things which one never thought would or could happen, so that the
imagination cannot possibly have invented them, and the soul
cannot be deceived about things it has not desired or wished for
or that have never been brought to its notice.

The third reason is that in genuine locutions the soul seems to be
hearing something, whereas in locutions invented by the
imagination someone seems to be composing bit by bit what the soul
wishes to hear.

The fourth reason is that there is a great difference in the words
themselves: in a genuine locution one single word may contain a
world of meaning such as the understanding alone could never put
rapidly into human language.

The fifth reason is that frequently, not only can words be heard,
but, in a way which I shall never be able to explain, much more
can be understood than the words themselves convey and this
without any further utterance. Of this way of understanding I
shall say more elsewhere; it is a very subtle thing, for which Our
Lord should be praised. Some people (especially one person with
experience of these things, and no doubt others also) have been
very dubious about this way of understanding locutions and about
the differences between them, and have been quite unable to get
the matter straight. I know that this person has thought it all
over very carefully, because the Lord has granted her this favour
very frequently indeed; her most serious doubt, which used to
occur when she first experienced it, was whether she was not
imagining the whole thing. When locutions come from the devil
their source can be more quickly recognized, though his wiles are
so numerous that he can readily counterfeit the spirit of light.
He will do this, in my view, by pronouncing his words very
clearly, so that there will be no more doubt about their being
understood than if they were being spoken by the spirit of truth.
But he will not be able to counterfeit the effects which have been
described, or to leave in the soul this peace or light, but only
restlessness and turmoil. He can do little or no harm if the soul
is humble and does what I have said -- that is, if it refrains
from action, whatever the locutions may say.

If gifts and favours come to it from the Lord, the soul should
consider carefully and see if they make it think any the better of
itself; and if, as the words grow more and more precious, it does
not suffer increasing confusion, it can be sure that the spirit is
not of God; for it is quite certain that, when it is so, the
greater the favour the soul receives, the less by far it esteems
itself, the more keenly it remembers its sins, the more forgetful
it is of its own interest, the more fervent are the efforts of its
will and memory in seeking nothing but the honour of God rather
than being mindful of its own profit, and the greater is its fear
of departing in the least from the will of God and its certainty
that it has never deserved these favours, but only hell. When
these are the results of all the experiences and favours that come
to the soul in prayer, it need not be afraid, but may rest
confidently in the mercy of the Lord, Who is faithful, and will
not allow the devil to deceive it, though it always does well to
retain its misgivings.

It may be that those whom the Lord does not lead by this road
think that such souls need not listen to these words which are
addressed to them; that, if they are interior words, they should
turn their attention elsewhere so as not to hear them; and that in
this way they will run no risk of incurring these perils. My
answer is that that is impossible -- and I am not referring now to
locutions invented by the fancy, a remedy for which is to be less
anxious about certain things and to try to take no notice of one's
own imaginings. When the locutions come from God there is no such
remedy, for the Spirit Himself, as He speaks, inhibits all other
thought and compels attention to what He says. So I really think
(and I believe this to be true) that it would be easier for
someone with excellent hearing not to hear a person who spoke in a
very loud voice, because he might simply pay no heed and occupy
his thought and understanding with something else. In the case of
which we are speaking, however, that is impossible. We have no
ears which we can stop nor have we the power to refrain from
thought; we can only think of what is being said; for He who was
able, at the request of Josue (I think it was), to make the sun
stand still,162 can still the faculties and all the interior part
of the soul in such a way that the soul becomes fully aware that
another Lord, greater than itself, is governing that Castle and
renders Him the greatest devotion and humility. So it cannot do
other than listen: it has no other choice. May His Divine Majesty
grant us to fix our eyes only on pleasing Him and to forget
ourselves, as I have said: Amen. May He grant that I have
succeeded in explaining what I have attempted to explain and that
I may have given some help to any who have experience of these
locutions.

CHAPTER IV

Treats of occasions when God suspends the soul in prayer by means
of rapture, or ecstasy, or trance (for I think these are all the
same), and of how great courage is necessary if we are to receive
great favours from His Majesty.

HOW much rest can this poor little butterfly have amid all these
trials and other things that I have described? Its whole will is
set on desiring to have ever-increasing fruition of its Spouse;
and His Majesty, knowing our weakness, continues to grant it the
things it wants, and many more, so that it may have the courage to
achieve union with so great a Lord and to take Him for its Spouse.

You will laugh at my saying this and call it ridiculous, for you
will all think courage is quite unnecessary and suppose there is
no woman, however lowly, who would not be brave enough to betroth
herself to the King. This would be so, I think, with an earthly
king, but for betrothal with the King of Heaven I must warn you
that there is more need of courage than you imagine, because our
nature is very timid and lowly for so great an undertaking, and I
am certain that, unless God granted us strength,163 it would be
impossible. And now you are going to see what His Majesty does to
confirm this betrothal, for this, as I understand it, is what
happens when He bestows raptures, which carry the soul out of its
senses; for if, while still in possession of its senses, the soul
saw that it was so near to such great majesty, it might perhaps be
unable to remain alive. It must be understood that I am referring
to genuine raptures, and not to women's weaknesses, which we all
have in this life, so that we are apt to think everything is
rapture and ecstasy. And, as I believe I have said, there are some
people who have such poor constitutions that one experience of the
Prayer of Quiet kills them. I want to enumerate here some
different kinds of rapture which I have got to know about through
conversations with spiritual people. I am not sure if I shall
succeed in doing so, any more than when I wrote of this before.164
For various reasons it has been thought immaterial if I should
repeat myself in discussing this and other matters connected with
it, if for no other object than that of setting down in one place
all that there is to be said about each Mansion.

One kind of rapture is this. The soul, though not actually engaged
in prayer, is struck by some word, which it either remembers or
hears spoken by God. His Majesty is moved with compassion at
having seen the soul suffering so long through its yearning for
Him, and seems to be causing the spark of which we have already
spoken to grow within it, so that, like the phoenix, it catches
fire and springs into new life. One may piously believe that the
sins of such a soul are pardoned, assuming that it is in the
proper disposition and has used the means of grace, as the Church
teaches.165 When it is thus cleansed, God unites it with Himself,
in a way which none can understand save it and He, and even the
soul itself does not understand this in such a way as to be able
to speak of it afterwards, though it is not deprived of its
interior senses; for it is not like one who suffers a swoon or a
paroxysm so that it can understand nothing either within itself or
without.

The position, in this case, as I understand it, is that the soul
has never before been so fully awake to the things of God or had
such light or such knowledge of His Majesty. This may seem
impossible; because, if the faculties are so completely absorbed
that we might describe them as dead, and the senses are so as
well, how can the soul be said to understand this secret? I cannot
say, nor perhaps can any creature, but only the Creator Himself,
nor can I speak of many other things that happen in this state --
I mean in these two Mansions, for this and the last might be fused
in one: there is no closed door to separate the one from the
other. As, however, there are things in the latter Mansion which
are not shown to those who have not yet reached it, I have thought
it best to separate them.

When the soul is in this state of suspension and the Lord sees fit
to reveal to it certain mysteries, such as heavenly things and
imaginary visions, it is able subsequently to describe these, for
they are so deeply impressed upon the memory that they can never
again be forgotten. But when they are intellectual visions they
cannot be so described; for at these times come visions of so
sublime a kind that it is not fitting for those who live on earth
to understand them in such a way that they can describe them;
although after regaining possession of their senses they can often
describe many of these intellectual visions.

It may be that some of you do not understand what is meant by a
vision, especially by an intellectual vision. I shall explain this
in due course, as I have been commanded to do so by him who has
authority over me; and although it may seem irrelevant there may
possibly be souls who will find it helpful. "But," you will say to
me, "if the soul is not going to remember these sublime favours
which the Lord grants it in this state, how can they bring it any
profit?" Oh, daughters, the profit is so great that it cannot be
exaggerated, for, although one cannot describe these favours, they
are clearly imprinted in the very depths of the soul and they are
never forgotten. "But," you will say next, "if the soul retains no
image of them and the faculties are unable to understand them, how
can they be remembered?" This, too, is more than I can understand;
but I know that certain truths concerning the greatness of God
remains so firmly in the soul that even had it not faith which
will tell it Who He is and that it is bound to believe Him to be
God, the soul would adore Him as such from that very moment, just
as Jacob adored Him when he saw the ladder.166 He must, of course,
have learned other secrets which he could not describe; for, if he
had not had more interior light, he would not have understood such
great mysteries merely from seeing a ladder on which angels were
descending and ascending.

I do not know if I am right in what I am saying, for, although I
have heard of the incident, I am not sure if I remember it
correctly. Moses, again, could not describe all that he saw in the
bush, but only as much as God willed him to;167 yet, if God had
not revealed secret things to his soul in such a way as to make
him sure of their truth, so that he should know and believe Him to
be God, he would not have taken upon himself so many and such
arduous labours. Amid the thorns of that bush he must have learned
marvellous things, for it was these things which gave him courage
to do what he did for the people of Israel. Therefore, sisters, we
must not seek out reasons for understanding the hidden things of
God; rather, believing, as we do, in His great power, we must
clearly realize that it is impossible for worms like ourselves,
with our limited powers, to understand His greatness. Let us give
Him hearty praise for being pleased to allow us to understand some
part of it.

I am wishing I could find a suitable comparison which would give
some sort of explanation of what I am saying. But I can think of
none that will answer my purpose. Let us put it like this,
however. You enter a private apartment in the palace of a king or
a great lord (I think they call it a camar�n), where they have an
infinite variety of glassware, and earthenware, and all kinds of
things, set out in such a way that you can see almost all of them
as you enter. I was once taken into a room of this kind in the
house of the Duchess of Alba, where I was commanded by obedience
to stay,168 in the course of a journey, at her pressing
invitation. When I went in I was astounded and began to wonder
what all this mass of things could be used for, and then I
realized that the sight of so many different things might lead one
to glorify the Lord. It occurs to me now how useful an experience
it was for my present purpose. Although I was there for some time,
there was so much to be seen that I could not remember it all, so
that I could no more recall what was in those rooms than if I had
never seen them, nor could I say what the things were made of; I
can only remember having seen them as a whole.169 It is just like
that here. The soul becomes one with God. It is brought into this
mansion of the empyrean Heaven which we must have in the depths of
our souls; for it is clear that, since God dwells in them, He must
have one170 of these mansions. And although while the soul is in
ecstasy the Lord will not always wish it to see these secrets (for
it is so much absorbed in its fruition of Him that that great
blessing suffices it), He is sometimes pleased that it should
emerge from its absorption, and then it will at once see what
there is in this room; in which case, after coming to itself, it
will remember that revelation of the great things it has seen. It
will not, however, be able to describe any of them, nor will its
nature be able to apprehend more of the supernatural than God has
been pleased to reveal to it.

Is this tantamount to an admission on my part that it has really
seen something and that this is an imaginary vision? I do not mean
that at all, for it is not of imaginary, but of intellectual
visions that I am treating; only I have no learning and am too
stupid to explain anything; and I am quite clear that, if what I
have said so far about this kind of prayer is put correctly, it is
not I who have said it. My own belief is that, if the soul to whom
God has given these secrets in its raptures never understands any
of them, they proceed, not from raptures at all, but from some
natural weakness, which is apt to affect people of feeble
constitution, such as women. In such cases the spirit, by making a
certain effort, can overcome nature and remain in a state of
absorption, as I believe I said when dealing with the Prayer of
Quiet. Such experiences as these have nothing to do with raptures;
for when a person is enraptured you can be sure that God is taking
her entire soul to Himself, and that, as she is His own property
and has now become His bride, He is showing her some little part
of the kingdom which she has gained by becoming so. This part may
be only a small one, but everything that is in this great God is
very great. He will not allow her to be disturbed either by the
faculties or by the senses; so He at once commands that all the
doors of these Mansions shall be shut, and only the door of the
Mansion in which He dwells remains open so that we may enter.
Blessed be such great mercy! Rightly shall those who will not
profit by it, and who thus forgo the presence of their Lord, be
called accursed.

Oh, my sisters, what nothingness is all that we have given up, and
all that we are doing, or can ever do, for a God Who is pleased to
communicate Himself in this way to a worm! If we have the hope of
enjoying this blessing while we are still in this life, what are
we doing about it and why are we waiting? What sufficient reason
is there for delaying even a short time instead of seeking this
Lord, as the Bride did, through streets and squares?171 Oh, what a
mockery is everything in the world if it does not lead us and help
us on the way towards this end, -- and would be even though all
the worldly delights and riches and joys that we can imagine were
to last for ever! For everything is cloying and degrading by
comparison with these treasures, which we shall enjoy eternally.
And even these are nothing by comparison with having for our own
the Lord of all treasures and of Heaven and earth.

Oh, human blindness! How long, how long shall it be before this
dust is removed from our eyes? For although, as far as we
ourselves are concerned, it seems not to be bad enough to blind us
altogether, I can see some motes and particles which, if we allow
them to become more numerous, will be sufficient to do us great
harm. For the love of God, then, sisters, let us profit by these
faults and learn from them what wretched creatures we are, and may
they give us clearer sight, as did the clay to the blind man who
was healed by our Spouse;172 and thus, realizing our own
imperfections, we shall beseech Him more and more earnestly to
bring good out of our wretchedness, so that we may please His
Majesty in everything.

Without realizing it, I have strayed far from my theme. Forgive
me, sisters; and believe me, now that I have come to these great
things of God (come to write about them, I mean), I cannot help
feeling the pity of it when I see how much we are losing, and all
through our own fault. For, true though it is that these are
things which the Lord gives to whom He will, He would give them to
us all if we loved Him as He loves us. For He desires nothing else
but to have those to whom He may give them, and His riches are not
diminished by His readiness to give.

Returning now to what I was saying, the Spouse orders the doors of
the Mansions to be shut, and even those of the Castle and its
enclosure. For when He means to enrapture this soul, it loses its
power of breathing, with the result that, although its other
senses sometimes remain active a little longer, it cannot possibly
speak. At other times it loses all its powers at once, and the
hands and the body grow so cold that the body seems no longer to
have a soul -- sometimes it even seems doubtful if there is any
breath in the body. This lasts only for a short time (I mean, only
for a short period at any one time) because, when this profound
suspension lifts a little, the body seems to come partly to itself
again, and draws breath, though only to die once more, and, in
doing so, to give fuller life to the soul. Complete ecstasy,
therefore, does not last long.

But, although relief comes, the ecstasy has the effect of leaving
the will so completely absorbed and the understanding so
completely transported -- for as long as a day, or even for
several days -- that the soul seems incapable of grasping anything
that does not awaken the will to love; to this it is fully awake,
while asleep as regards all that concerns attachment to any
creature.

Oh, what confusion the soul feels when it comes to itself again
and what ardent desires it has to be used for God in any and every
way in which He may be pleased to employ it! If such effects as
have been described result from the former kinds of prayer, what
can be said of a favour as great as this? Such a soul would gladly
have a thousand lives so as to use them all for God, and it would
like everything on earth to be tongue so that it might praise Him.
It has tremendous desires to do penance; and whatever penance it
does it counts as very little, for its love is so strong that it
feels everything it does to be of very small account and realizes
clearly that it was not such a great matter for the martyrs to
suffer all their tortures, for with the aid of Our Lord such a
thing becomes easy. And thus these souls make complaint to Our
Lord when He offers them no means of suffering.

When this favour is granted them secretly they esteem it very
highly; for so great are the shame and the confusion caused them
by having to suffer before others that to some extent they lessen
the soul's absorption in what it was enjoying, because of the
distress and the anxiety which arise from its thoughts of what
others who have seen it will think. For, knowing the malice of the
world, they realize that their suffering may perhaps not be
attributed to its proper cause but may be made an occasion for
criticism instead of for glorifying the Lord. This distress and
shame are no longer within the soul's own power of control, yet
they seem to me to denote a lack of humility; for if such a person
really desires to be despitefully treated, how can she mind if she
is? One who was distressed in this way heard Our Lord say: "Be not
afflicted, for either they will praise Me or murmur at thee, and
in either case thou wilt be the gainer."173 I learned afterwards
that that person had been greatly cheered and consoled by those
words; and I set them down here for the sake of any who find
themselves in this affliction. It seems that Our Lord wants
everyone to realize that such a person's soul is now His and that
no one must touch it. People are welcome to attack her body, her
honour, and her possessions, for any of these attacks will be to
His Majesty's honour. But her soul they may not attack, for
unless, with most blameworthy presumption, it tears itself away
from its Spouse, He will protect it from the whole world, and
indeed from all hell.

I do not know if I have conveyed any impression of the nature of
rapture: to give a full idea of it, as I have said, is impossible.
Still, I think there has been no harm in my saying this, so that
its nature may be understood, since the effects of feigned
raptures are so different. (I do not use the word "feigned"
because those who experience them wish to deceive, but because
they are deceived themselves.)174

As the signs and effects of these last do not harmonize with the
reception of this great favour, the favour itself becomes
discredited, so that those to whom the Lord grants it later on are
not believed. May He be for ever blessed and praised. Amen. Amen.

CHAPTER V

Continues the same subject and gives an example of how God exalts
the soul through flights of the spirit in a way different from
that described. Gives some reasons why courage is necessary here.
Says something of this favour which God grants in a way so
delectable. This chapter is highly profitable.

THERE is another kind of rapture, or flight of the spirit, as I
call it, which, though substantially the same, is felt within the
soul175 in a very different way. Sometimes the soul becomes
conscious of such rapid motion that the spirit seems to be
transported with a speed which, especially at first, fills it with
fear, for which reason I told you that great courage is necessary
for anyone in whom God is to work these favours, together with
faith and confidence and great resignation, so that Our Lord may
do with the soul as He wills. Do you suppose it causes but little
perturbation to a person in complete possession of his senses when
he experiences these transports of the soul? We have even read in
some authors that the body is transported as well as the soul,
without knowing whither it is going, or who is bearing it away, or
how, for when this sudden motion begins the soul has no certainty
that it is caused by God.

Can any means of resisting this be found? None whatever: on the
contrary, resistance only makes matters worse. This I know from a
certain person who said that God's will seems to be to show the
soul that, since it has so often and so unconditionally placed
itself in His hands, and has offered itself to Him with such
complete willingness, it must realize that it is no longer its own
mistress, and so the violence with which it is transported becomes
markedly greater. This person, therefore, decided to offer no more
resistance than a straw does when it is lifted up by amber (if you
have ever observed this) and to commit herself into the hands of
Him Who is so powerful, seeing that it is but to make a virtue of
necessity. And, speaking of straw, it is a fact that a powerful
man cannot bear away a straw more easily than this great and
powerful Giant of ours can bear away the spirit.

I think that basin of water, of which we spoke in (I believe) the
fourth Mansion (but I do not remember exactly where),176 was being
filled at that stage gently and quietly -- I mean without any
movement. But now this great God, Who controls the sources of the
waters and forbids the sea to move beyond its bounds, has loosed
the sources whence water has been coming into this basin; and with
tremendous force there rises up so powerful a wave that this
little ship -- our soul -- is lifted up on high. And if a ship can
do nothing, and neither the pilot nor any of the crew has any
power over it, when the waves make a furious assault upon it and
toss it about at their will, even less able is the interior part
of the soul to stop where it likes, while its senses and faculties
can do no more than has been commanded them: the exterior senses,
however, are quite unaffected by this.

Really, sisters, the mere writing of this makes me astounded when
I reflect how the great power of this great King and Emperor
manifests itself here. What, then, must be the feelings of anyone
who experiences it? For my own part I believe that, if His Majesty
were to reveal Himself to those who journey through the world to
their perdition as He does to these souls, they would not dare --
out of very fear, though not perhaps out of love -- to offend Him.
Oh, how great, then, are the obligations attending souls who have
been warned in so sublime a way to strive with all their might so
as not to offend this Lord! For His sake, sisters, I beseech you,
to whom His Majesty has granted these favours or others like them,
not merely to receive them and then grow careless, but to remember
that anyone who owes much has much to pay.177

This is another reason why the soul needs great courage, for the
thought is one which makes it very fearful, and, did Our Lord not
give it courage, it would continually be in great affliction. When
it reflects what His Majesty is doing with it, and then turns to
reflect upon itself, it realizes what a little it is doing towards
the fulfilment of its obligations and how feeble is that little
which it does do and how full of faults and failures. If it does
any good action, rather than remember how imperfect this action
is, it thinks best to try to forget it, to keep nothing in mind
but its sins, and to throw itself upon the mercy of God; and,
since it has nothing with which to pay, it craves the compassion
and mercy which He has always shown to sinners.

He may perhaps answer it as He answered someone who was very much
distressed about this, and was looking at a crucifix and thinking
that she had never had anything to offer God or to give up for His
sake. The Crucified Himself comforted her by saying that He was
giving her all the pains and trials which He had suffered in His
Passion, so that she should have them for her own to offer to His
Father.178 That soul, as I have understood from her, was so much
comforted and enriched by this experience that she cannot forget
it, and, whenever she feels miserable, she remembers it and it
comforts and encourages her. There are several other remarks on
this subject which I might add; for, as I have had to do with many
saintly and prayerful people, I know of a number of such cases,
but I do not want you to think that it is to myself that I am
referring, so I pass them over. This incident which I have
described seems to me a very apt one for helping you to understand
how glad Our Lord is when we get to know ourselves and keep trying
all the time to realize our poverty and wretchedness, and to
reflect that we possess nothing that we have not been given.
Therefore, my sisters, courage is necessary for this and for many
other things that happen to a soul which the Lord has brought to
this state; and, to my thinking, if the soul is humble, more
courage is necessary for this last state than for any other. May
the Lord, of His own bounty, grant us humility.

Turning now to this sudden transport of the spirit, it may be said
to be of such a kind that the soul really seems to have left the
body; on the other hand, it is clear that the person is not dead,
though for a few moments he cannot even himself be sure if the
soul is in the body or no. He feels as if he has been in another
world, very different from this in which we live, and has been
shown a fresh light there, so much unlike any to be found in this
life that, if he had been imagining it, and similar things, all
his life long, it would have been impossible for him to obtain any
idea of them. In a single instant he is taught so many things all
at once that if he were to labour for years on end in trying to
fit them all into his imagination and thought, he could not
succeed with a thousandth part of them. This is not an
intellectual, but an imaginary vision, which is seen with the eyes
of the soul very much more clearly than we can ordinarily see
things with the eyes of the body; and some of the revelations are
communicated to it without words. If, for examples he sees any of
the saints, he knows them as well as if he had spent a long time
in their company.

Sometimes, in addition to the things which he sees with the eyes
of the soul, in intellectual vision, others are revealed to him --
in particular, a host of angels, with their Lord; and, though he
sees nothing with the eyes of the body or with the eyes of the
soul, he is shown the things I am describing and many others which
are indescribable, by means of an admirable kind of knowledge.
Anyone who has experience of this, and possesses more ability than
I, will perhaps know how to express it; to me it seems extremely
difficult. If the soul is in the body or not while all this is
happening I cannot say; I would not myself swear that the soul is
in the body, nor that the body is bereft of the soul.

I have often thought that if the sun can remain in the heavens and
yet its rays are so strong that without its moving thence they can
none the less reach us here, it must be possible for the soul and
the spirit, which are as much the same thing as are the sun and
its rays, to remain where they are, and yet, through the power of
the heat that comes to them from the true Sun of Justice, for some
higher part of them to rise above itself. Really, I hardly know
what I am saying; but it is a fact that, as quickly as a bullet
leaves a gun when the trigger is pulled, there begins within the
soul a flight (I know no other name to give it) which, though no
sound is made, is so clearly a movement that it cannot possibly be
due to fancy. When the soul, as far as it can understand, is right
outside itself, great things are revealed to it; and, when it
returns to itself, it finds that it has reaped very great
advantages and it has such contempt for earthly things that, in
comparison with those it has seen, they seem like dirt to it.
Thenceforward to live on earth is a great affliction to it, and,
if it sees any of the things which used to give it pleasure, it no
longer cares for them. Just as tokens of the nature of the
Promised Land were brought back by those whom the Israelites sent
on there,179 so in this case the Lord's wish seems to have been to
show the soul something of the country to which it is to travel,
so that it may suffer the trials of this trying road,180 knowing
whither it must travel in order to obtain its rest. Although you
may think that a thing which passes so quickly cannot be of great
profit, the help which it gives the soul is so great that only the
person familiar with it can understand its worth.

Clearly, then, this is no work of the devil; such an experience
could not possibly proceed from the imagination, and the devil
could never reveal things which produce such results in the soul
and leave it with such peace and tranquillity and with so many
benefits. There are three things in particular which it enjoys to
a very high degree. The first is knowledge of the greatness of
God: the more we see of this, the more deeply we are conscious of
it. The second is self-knowledge and humility at realizing how a
thing like the soul, so base by comparison with One Who is the
Creator of such greatness, has dared to offend Him and dares to
raise its eyes to Him. The third is a supreme contempt for earthly
things, save those which can be employed in the service of so
great a God.

These are the jewels which the Spouse is beginning to give to His
bride, and so precious are they that she will not fail to keep
them with the greatest care. These meetings181 with the Spouse
remain so deeply engraven in the memory that I think it is
impossible for the soul to forget them until it is enjoying them
for ever; if it did so, it would suffer the greatest harm. But the
Spouse Who gives them to the soul has power also to give it grace
not to lose them.

Returning now to the soul's need of courage, I ask you: Does it
seem to you such a trifling thing after all? For the soul really
feels that it is leaving the body when it sees the senses leaving
it and has no idea why they are going. So He Who gives everything
else must needs give courage too. You will say that this fear of
the soul's is well rewarded; so too say I. May He Who can give so
much be for ever praised. And may it please His Majesty to grant
us to be worthy to serve Him. Amen.

CHAPTER VI

Describes one effect of the prayer referred to in the last
chapter, by which it will be known that it is genuine and no
deception. Treats of another favour which the Lord grants to the
soul so that He may use it to sing His praises.

HAVING won such great favours, the soul is so anxious to have
complete fruition of their Giver that its life becomes sheer,
though delectable, torture. It has the keenest longings for death,
and so it frequently and tearfully begs God to take it out of this
exile. Everything in this life that it sees wearies it; when it
finds itself alone it experiences great relief, but immediately
this distress returns till it hardly knows itself when it is
without it. In short, this little butterfly can find no lasting
repose; indeed, her love is so full of tenderness that any
occasion whatever which serves to increase the strength of this
fire causes the soul to take flight; and thus in this Mansion
raptures occur continually and there is no way of avoiding them,
even in public. Further, although the soul would fain be free from
tears, these persecutions and murmurings never leave her; for
these all kinds of persons are responsible, especially confessors.

Although on the one hand she seems to be feeling great interior
security, especially when alone with God, on the other hand she is
in great distress, for she is afraid that the devil may be going
to deceive her so that she shall offend Him for Whom she has such
love. She is not hurt by what people say about her except when her
own confessor blames her, as though she could prevent these
raptures. She does nothing but beg everyone to pray for her and
beseech His Majesty to lead her by another road, as she is advised
to do, since the road she is on is very dangerous. But she has
gained so much from following it (for she cannot help seeing, and
she reads and hears and learns from the commandments of God that
it leads to Heaven) that, try as she may, she feels unable to
desire any other; all she wants to do is to leave herself in His
hands. And even this impotence of will distresses her, because she
thinks she is not obeying her confessor, for she believes that her
only remedy against deception consists in obeying and not
offending Our Lord. So she feels that she would not intentionally
commit so much as a venial sin, even were she to be cut in pieces;
and thus she is greatly distressed to find that, without being
aware of the fact, she cannot avoid committing a great many.

God gives these souls the keenest desire not to displease Him in
any respect whatsoever, however trivial, or to commit so much as
an imperfection if they can avoid doing so. For this reason alone,
if for no other, the soul would like to flee from other people,
and greatly envies those who lived, or have lived, in deserts. On
the other hand it would like to plunge right into the heart of the
world, to see if by doing this it could help one soul to praise
God more; a woman in this state will be distressed at being
prevented from doing this by the obstacle of sex and very envious
of those who are free to cry aloud and proclaim abroad Who is this
great God of Hosts.

Oh, poor little butterfly, bound by so many fetters, which prevent
you from flying whithersoever you will! Have pity on her, my God;
and dispose things so that she may be able to do something towards
fulfilling her desires to Thy honour and glory. Remember not the
slightness of her merits and the baseness of her nature. Mighty
art Thou, Lord, for Thou didst make the great sea to draw back,
and the great Jordan, and didst allow the Children of Israel to
pass over them.182 And yet Thou needest not have pity on her, for,
with the aid of Thy strength, she is capable of enduring many
trials. And this she is determined to do: to suffer them is her
desire. Stretch out Thy mighty arm, O Lord, and let not her life
be spent in things so base. Let Thy greatness appear in this
creature, womanish and base though she is, so that men may realize
that nothing she does comes from herself and may give Thee praise.
Cost what it may, it is this that she desires, and she would give
a thousand lives, if she had them, so that on her account one soul
might praise Thee a little more. She would consider them all well
spent, for she knows that in actual fact she deserves not to
suffer the very smallest trial for Thy sake, still less to die for
Thee.

I do not know why I have said this, sisters, nor to what purpose,
for I have not understood it all myself. It should be realized
that such, without any kind of doubt, are the effects which remain
after these suspensions or ecstasies; the desires they inspire are
not fleeting but permanent; and when any opportunity occurs of
demonstrating the fact, it becomes evident that the experience was
not feigned. You may ask why I use the word "permanent", since
sometimes and in the most trifling matters the soul feels
cowardly, and is so fearful and devoid of courage that it seems
impossible it can be courageous enough to do anything whatsoever.
But this, I take it, occurs at a time when the Lord leaves it to
its own nature -- an experience which is extremely good for it,
making it realize that any usefulness it may have had has been a
gift bestowed upon it by His Majesty. And this it realizes with a
clearness which annihilates any self-interest in it and imbues it
with a greater knowledge of the mercy of God and of His greatness,
which He has been pleased to demonstrate to it in so small a
matter. But more usually it is as we have already said.

Note one thing, sisters, concerning these great desires of the
soul to see Our Lord: that they will sometimes oppress you so much
that you must not encourage them but put them from you -- if you
can, I mean; because there are other desires, of which I shall
write later, which cannot possibly be so treated, as you will see.
These of which I am now speaking it is sometimes possible to put
from you, since the reason is free to resign itself to the will of
God, and you can echo the words of Saint Martin183; in such a
case, where the desires are very oppressive, the thoughts may be
deflected from them. For, as such desires are apparently found in
souls which are very proficient, the devil might encourage them in
us, so as to make us think ourselves proficient too; and it is
always well to proceed with caution. But I do not myself believe
he could ever fill the soul with the quietness and peace caused it
by this distress; the feelings he arouses are apt to be passionate
ones, like those which we experience when we are troubled about
things of the world. Anyone without experience of each kind of
distress will not understand that, and, thinking it a great thing
to feel like this, will stimulate the feeling as much as possible.
To do this, however, may be to injure the health, for the distress
is continuous, or, at the least, occurs with great frequency.

Note also that distress of this kind is apt to be caused by weak
health, especially in emotional people, who weep for the slightest
thing; again and again they will think they are weeping for
reasons which have to do with God but this will not be so in
reality. It may even be the case (I mean when they shed floods of
tears -- and for some time they cannot refrain from doing so
whenever they think of God or hear Him spoken of) that some humour
has been oppressing the heart, and that it is this, rather than
their love of God, which has excited their tears. It seems as if
they will never make an end of weeping, having come to believe
that tears are good, they make no attempt to control them. In
fact, they would not do otherwise than weep even if they could,
and they make every effort they can to induce tears. The devil
does his best, in such cases, to weaken them, so that they may be
unable either to practise prayer or to keep their Rule.

I seem to hear you asking whatever you are to do, as I am telling
you there is danger in everything. If I think deception possible
in anything as beneficial as shedding tears may I not be deceived
myself? Yes, of course I may; but, believe me, I am not talking
without having observed this in certain persons. I have never been
like it myself, however, for I am not in the least emotional; on
the contrary, my hardness of heart sometimes worries me; though,
when the fire within my soul is strong, however hard my heart may
be, it distils as if in an alembic. You will easily recognize when
tears arise from this source, because they are comforting and
tranquillizing rather than disturbing, and seldom do any harm. The
great thing about this deception, when such it is, will be that,
although it may harm the body, it cannot (if the soul is humble, I
mean) hurt the soul. If it is not humble, it will do it no harm to
keep its suspicions.

Do not let us suppose that if we weep a great deal we have done
everything that matters; let us also set to and work hard, and
practise the virtues, for these are what we most need. Let the
tears come when God is pleased to send them: we ourselves should
make no efforts to induce them. They will leave this dry ground of
ours well watered and will be of great help in producing fruit;
but the less notice we take of them, the more they will do,
because they are the water which comes from Heaven.184 When we
ourselves draw water, we tire ourselves by digging for it, and the
water we get is not the same; often we dig till we wear ourselves
out without having discovered so much as a pool of water, still
less a wellspring. For this reason, sisters, I think our best plan
is to place ourselves in the Lord's presence, meditate upon His
mercy and grace and upon our own lowliness, and leave Him to give
us what He wills, whether it be water or aridity. He knows best
what is good for us, and in this way we shall walk in tranquillity
and the devil will have less opportunity to fool us.

Together with these things, which are at once distressing and
delectable, Our Lord sometimes bestows upon the soul a jubilation
and a strange kind of prayer, the nature of which it cannot
ascertain. I set this down here, so that, if He grants you this
favour, you may give Him hearty praise and know that such a thing
really happens. I think the position is that the faculties are in
close union, but that Our Lord leaves both faculties and senses
free to enjoy this happiness, without understanding what it is
that they are enjoying and how they are enjoying it. That sounds
nonsense but it is certainly what happens. The joy of the soul is
so exceedingly great that it would like, not to rejoice in God in
solitude, but to tell its joy to all, so that they may help it to
praise Our Lord, to which end it directs its whole activity. Oh,
what high festival such a one would make to this end and how she
would show forth her joy, if she could, so that all should
understand it! For she seems to have found herself, and, like the
father of the Prodigal Son,185 she would like to invite everybody
and have great festivities because she sees her soul in a place
which she cannot doubt is a place of safety, at least for a time.
And, for my own part, I believe she is right; for such interior
joy in the depths of the soul's being, such peace and such
happiness that it calls upon all to praise God cannot possibly
have come from the devil.

Impelled as it is by this great joy, the soul cannot be expected
to keep silence and dissemble: it would find this no light
distress. That must have been the state of mind of Saint Francis,
when robbers met him as he was going about the countryside crying
aloud and he told them that he was the herald of the great King.
Other saints retire to desert places, where they proclaim the same
thing as Saint Francis -- namely, the praises of their God. I knew
one of these, called Fray Peter of Alc�ntara. Judging from the
life he led, I think he is certainly a saint, yet those who heard
him from time to time called him mad. Oh, what a blessed madness,
sisters! If only God would give it to us all! And how good He has
been to you in placing you where, if the Lord should grant you
this grace and you show others that He has done so, you will not
be spoken against as you would be in the world (where there are so
few to proclaim God's praise that it is not surprising if they are
spoken against,) but will be encouraged to praise Him the more.

Oh, unhappy are the times and miserable is the life which we now
live, and happy are those who have had the good fortune to escape
from it! Sometimes it makes me specially glad when we are together
and I see these sisters of mine so full of inward joy that each
vies with the rest in praising Our Lord for bringing her to the
convent; it is very evident that those praises come from the
inmost depths of the soul. I should like you to praise Him often,
sisters, for, when one of you begins to do so, she arouses the
rest. How can your tongues be better employed, when you are
together, than in the praises of God, which we have so many
reasons for rendering Him?

May it please His Majesty often to bestow this prayer upon us
since it brings us such security and such benefit. For, as it is
an entirely supernatural thing, we cannot acquire it. It may last
for a whole day, and the soul will then be like one who has drunk
a great deal, but not like a person so far inebriated as to be
deprived of his senses; nor will it be like a melancholiac, who,
without being entirely out of his mind, cannot forget a thing that
has been impressed upon his imagination, from which no one else
can free him either. These are very unskilful comparisons to
represent so precious a thing, but I am not clever enough to think
out any more: the real truth is that this joy makes the soul so
forgetful of itself, and of everything, that it is conscious of
nothing, and able to speak of nothing, save of that which proceeds
from its joy -- namely, the praises of God. Let us join with this
soul, my daughters all. Why should we want to be more sensible
than she? What can give us greater pleasure than to do as she
does? And may all the creatures join with us for ever and ever.
Amen, amen, amen.

CHAPTER VII

Treats of the kind of grief felt for their sins by the souls to
Whom God grants the favours aforementioned. Says that, however
spiritual people may be, it is a great mistake for them not to
practise keeping in mind the Humanity of Our Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ, His most sacred Passion and life, and His glorious
Mother and the Saints. This chapter is of great profit.

You will think, sisters, that these souls to whom the Lord
communicates Himself in so special a way (I am speaking now
particularly to those who have not attained these favours, for if
they have been granted the enjoyment of such favours by God, they
will know what I am about to say) will by now be so sure that they
are to enjoy Him for ever that they will have no reason to fear or
to weep for their sins. This will be a very great mistake, for,
the more they receive from our God, the greater grows their sorrow
for sin; I believe myself that this will never leave us until we
reach that place where nothing can cause us affliction.

It is true that this sorrow can be more oppressive at one time
than at another, and also that it is of different kinds, for the
soul does not now think of the pain which it is bound to suffer on
account of its sins, but only of how ungrateful it has been to Him
Whom it owes so much, and Who so greatly merits our service. For
through these manifestations of His greatness which He
communicates to it the soul gains a much deeper knowledge of the
greatness of God. It is aghast at having been so bold; it weeps
for its lack of reverence; its foolish mistakes in the past seem
to it to have been so gross that it cannot stop grieving, when it
remembers that it forsook so great a Majesty for things so base.
It thinks of this much more than of the favours it receives, great
as they are like those which we have described and like those
which remain to be described later. It is as if a mighty river
were running through the soul and from time to time bringing these
favours with it. But its sins are like the river's slimy bed; they
are always fresh in its memory, and this is a heavy cross to it.

I know of a person who had ceased wishing she might die so as to
see God, but was desiring death in order that she might not suffer
such constant distress at the thought of her ingratitude to One to
Whom her debts were so great. She thought nobody's evil deeds
could equal hers, for she believed there was no one with whom God
had borne for so long and to whom He had shown so many favours.

With regard to fear of hell, these souls have none; they are
sometimes sorely oppressed by the thought that they may lose God,
but this happens seldom. Their sole fear is that God may let them
out of His hand and that they may then offend Him, and thus find
themselves in as miserable a state as before. They have no anxiety
about their own pain or glory. If they desire not to stay long in
Purgatory, it is less for the pain which they will have to suffer
than because while they are there they will not be with God.

However favoured by God a soul may be, I should not think it
secure were it to forget the miserable state it was once in, for,
distressing though the reflection is, it is often profitable.
Perhaps it is because I myself have been so wicked that I feel
like this and for that reason always keep it in mind; those who
have been good will have nothing to grieve for, although for as
long as we live in this mortal body we shall always have failures.
It affords us no relief from this distress to reflect that Our
Lord has forgiven and forgotten our sins; in fact the thought of
so much goodness and of favours granted to one who has merited
only hell makes the distress greater. I think these reflections
must have been a regular martyrdom for Saint Peter and for the
Magdalen; because, as their love was so great and they had
received so many favours and had learned to understand the
greatness and majesty of God, they would find them terribly hard
to bear, and must have been moved with the deepest emotion.

You will also think that anyone who enjoys such sublime favours
will not engage in meditation on the most sacred Humanity of Our
Lord Jesus Christ, because by that time he will be wholly
proficient in love. This is a thing of which I have written at
length elsewhere,186 and, although I have been contradicted about
it and told that I do not understand it, because these are paths
along which Our Lord leads us, and that, when we have got over the
first stages, we shall do better to occupy ourselves with matters
concerning the Godhead and to flee from corporeal things, they
will certainly not make me admit that this is a good way. I may be
wrong and we may all be meaning the same thing; but it was clear
to me that the devil was trying to deceive me in this way, and I
have had to learn my lesson. So, although I have often spoken
about this,187 I propose to speak to you about it again, so that
you may walk very warily. And observe that I am going so far as to
advise you not to believe anyone who tells you otherwise. I will
try to explain myself better than I did before. If by any chance a
certain person has written about it, as he said he would, it is to
be hoped that he has explained it more fully; to write about it in
a general way to those of us who are not very intelligent may do a
great deal of harm.

Some souls also imagine that they cannot dwell upon the Passion,
in which case they will be able still less to meditate upon the
most sacred Virgin and the lives of the saints, the remembrance of
whom brings us such great profit and encouragement. I cannot
conceive what they are thinking of; for, though angelic spirits,
freed from everything corporeal, may remain permanently enkindled
in love, this is not possible for those of us who live in this
mortal body. We need to cultivate, and think upon, and seek the
companionship of those who, though living on earth like ourselves,
have accomplished such great deeds for God; the last thing we
should do is to withdraw of set purpose from our greatest help and
blessing, which is the most sacred Humanity of Our Lord Jesus
Christ. I cannot believe that people can really do this; it must
be that they do not understand themselves and thus do harm to
themselves and to others. At any rate, I can assure them that they
will not enter these last two Mansions; for, if they lose their
Guide, the good Jesus, they will be unable to find their way; they
will do well if they are able to remain securely in the other
Mansions. For the Lord Himself says that He is the Way;188 the
Lord also says that He is light189 and that no one can come to the
Father save by Him;190 and "he that seeth Me seeth my Father."191
It may be said that these words have another meaning. I do not
know of any such meaning myself; I have got on very well with the
meaning which my soul always feels to be the true one.

There are some people (and a great many of them have spoken to me
about this) on whom Our Lord bestows perfect contemplation and who
would like to remain in possession of it for ever. That is
impossible; but they retain something of this Divine favour, with
the result that they can no longer meditate upon the mysteries of
the Passion and the life of Christ, as they could before. I do not
know the reason for this, but it is quite a common experience in
such cases for the understanding to be less apt for meditation. I
think the reason must be that the whole aim of meditation is to
seek God, and once He is found, and the soul grows accustomed to
seeking Him again by means of the will, it has no desire to
fatigue itself with intellectual labour. It also seems to me that,
as the will is now enkindled, this generous faculty would have no
desire to make use of that other faculty,192 even if it could.
There would be nothing wrong in its setting it aside, but it is
impossible for it to do so, especially before the soul has reached
these last Mansions, and it will only lose time by attempting it,
for the aid of the understanding is often needed for the
enkindling of the will.

Note this point, sisters, for it is important, so I will explain
it further. The soul is desirous of employing itself wholly in
love and it would be glad if it could meditate on nothing else.
But this it cannot do even if it so desires; for, though the will
is not dead, the fire which habitually kindles it is going out,
and, if it is to give off heat of itself, it needs someone to fan
it into flame. Would it be a good thing for the soul to remain in
that state of aridity, hoping for fire to come down from Heaven to
burn up this sacrifice of itself which it is making to God as did
our father Elias?193 No, certainly not; nor is it a good thing to
expect miracles: the Lord will perform them for this soul when He
sees fit to do so, as has been said and as will be said again
later. But His Majesty wants us to realize our wickedness, which
makes us unworthy of their being wrought, and to do everything we
possibly can to come to our own aid. And I believe myself that,
however sublime our prayer may be, we shall have to do this until
we die.

It is true that anyone whom Our Lord brings to the seventh Mansion
very rarely, or never, needs to engage in this activity, for the
reason that I shall set down, if I remember to do so, when I come
to deal with that Mansion, where in a wonderful way the soul never
ceases to walk with Christ our Lord but is ever in the company of
both His Divine and His human nature. When, therefore, the
aforementioned fire is not kindled in the will, and the presence
of God is not felt, we must needs seek it, since this is His
Majesty's desire, as the Bride sought it in the Songs.194 Let us
ask the creatures who made them, as Saint Augustine says that he
did (in his Meditations or Confessions,195 I think) and let us not
be so foolish as to lose time by waiting to receive what has been
given us once already. At first it may be that the Lord will not
give it us, for as long as a year, or even for many years: His
Majesty knows why; it is not our business to want to know, nor is
there any reason why we should. Since we know the way we have to
take to please God -- namely, that of keeping His commandments and
counsels -- let us be very diligent in doing this, and in
meditating upon His life and death, and upon all that we owe Him;
and let the rest come when the Lord wills.

Such people will reply that they cannot stop to meditate upon
these things, and here they may to some extent be right, for the
reason already given. You know, of course, that it is one thing to
reason with the understanding and quite another for the memory to
represent truths to the understanding. You will say, perhaps, that
you do not understand me, and it may very well be that I do not
understand the matter myself sufficiently to be able to explain
it; but I will deal with it as well as I can. By meditation I mean
prolonged reasoning with the understanding, in this way. We begin
by thinking of the favour which God bestowed upon us by giving us
His only Son; and we do not stop there but proceed to consider the
mysteries of His whole glorious life. Or we begin with the prayer
in the Garden and go on rehearsing the events that follow until we
come to the Crucifixion. Or we take one episode of the Passion --
Christ's arrest, let us say -- and go over this mystery in our
mind, meditating in detail upon the points in it which we need to
think over and to try to realize, such as the treason of Judas,
the flight of the Apostles, and so on. This is an admirable and a
most meritorious kind of prayer.

This is the kind of prayer I was referring to which those whom God
has raised to supernatural things and to perfect contemplation are
right in saying they cannot practise. As I have said, I do not
know why this should be the case; but as a rule they are in fact
unable to do so. A man will not be right, however, to say that he
cannot dwell upon these mysteries, for he often has them in his
mind, especially when they are being celebrated by the Catholic
Church; nor is it possible that a soul which has received so much
from God should forget all these precious signs of His love, for
they are living sparks which will enkindle the soul more and more
in its love for Our Lord. But these mysteries will not be
apprehended by the understanding: the soul will understand them in
a more perfect way. First, the understanding will picture them to
itself, and then they will be impressed upon the memory, so that
the mere sight of the Lord on His knees, in the Garden, covered
with that terrible sweat, will suffice us, not merely for an hour,
but for many days. We consider, with a simple regard, Who He is
and how ungrateful we have been to One Who has borne such pain for
us. Then the will is aroused, not perhaps with deep emotion but
with a desire to make some kind of return for this great favour,
and to suffer something for One Who has suffered so much Himself.
And so it is with other subjects, in which both memory and
understanding will have a place. This, I think, is why the soul
cannot reason properly about the Passion, and it is because of
this that it believes itself unable to meditate upon it at all.

But if it does not already meditate in this way, it will be well
advised to attempt to do so; for I know that the most sublime kind
of prayer will be no obstacle to it and I believe omission to
practise it often would be a great mistake. If while the soul is
meditating the Lord should suspend it, well and good; for in that
case He will make it cease meditation even against its own will. I
consider it quite certain that this method of procedure is no
hindrance to the soul but a great help to it in everything that is
good; whereas, if it laboured hard at meditation in the way I have
already described, this would indeed be a hindrance -- in fact, I
believe such labour is impossible for a person who has attained
greater heights. This may not be so with everyone, since God leads
souls by many ways, but those who are unable to take this road
should not be condemned or judged incapable of enjoying the great
blessings contained in the mysteries of Jesus Christ our Good. No
one, however spiritual, will persuade me that to neglect these
mysteries can be profitable for him.

Some souls, at the beginning of the spiritual life, or even when
well advanced in it, get as far as the Prayer of Quiet, and are
about to enjoy the favours and consolations given by the Lord in
that state, and then think it would be a very great thing to be
enjoying these gifts all the time. Let them take my advice, and
become less absorbed in them, as I have said elsewhere.196 For
life is long and there are many trials in it and we have need to
look at Christ our Pattern, and also at His Apostles and Saints,
and to reflect how they bore these trials, so that we, too, may
bear them perfectly. The good Jesus is too good company for us to
forsake Him and His most sacred Mother. He is very glad when we
grieve for His afflictions although sometimes we may be forsaking
our own pleasures and consolations in order to do so -- though for
that matter, daughters, consolations in prayer are not so frequent
that there is not time for everything. If anyone told me that she
experienced them continuously (I mean so continuously that she
could never meditate in the way I have described) I should
consider it suspicious. Keep on with your meditation, then, and
endeavour to be free from this error, and make every effort to
avoid this absorption. If your efforts are not sufficient, tell
the prioress, in order that she may give you some work which will
keep you so busy that this danger will no longer exist. Any
continuous exposure to it would be very bad for the brain and the
head, if nothing worse.

I think I have explained what it is well for you to know -- namely
that, however spiritual you are, you must not flee so completely
from corporeal things as to think that meditation on the most
sacred Humanity can actually harm you. We are sometimes reminded
that the Lord said to His disciples that it was expedient for them
that He should go away:197 I cannot, however, allow that as an
argument. He did not say this to His most sacred Mother, because
she was firm in the faith and knew that He was God and Man; and,
although she loved Him more than they, her love was so perfect
that His being on earth was actually a help to her. The Apostles
could not at that time have been as firm in the faith as they were
later and as we have reason to be now. I assure you, daughters,
that I consider this a perilous road and that if we took it the
devil might end by causing us to lose our devotion to the Most
Holy Sacrament.

The mistake, I think, which I used to make myself did not go as
far as this; it was only that I would take less pleasure than
previously in thinking of Our Lord Jesus Christ and would go about
in that state of absorption, expecting to receive spiritual
consolation. Then I saw clearly that I was going wrong; for, as it
was impossible always to be having consolations, my thoughts would
keep passing from one subject to another, until my soul, I think,
got like a bird flying round and round in search of a resting-
place and losing a great deal of time, without advancing in the
virtues or making progress in prayer. I could not understand the
cause -- nor, I believe, should I ever have understood it, because
I thought I was on the proper road, until one day, when I was
telling a person who was a servant of God about my method of
prayer, he gave me some counsel. This showed me clearly how far I
had gone astray and I have never ceased regretting that there was
once a time when I failed to realize that so great a loss could
not possibly result in gain. Even if I could obtain it, I want no
blessing save that which I acquire through Him by Whom all
blessings come to us. May He be praised for ever. Amen.

CHAPTER VIII

Treats of the way in which God communicates Himself to the soul
through intellectual vision.198 Describes the effects which this
produces when genuine. Charges that these favours be kept secret.

IN order, sisters, that you may the better appreciate the accuracy
of what I have been saying to you and see that the farther a soul
progresses the closer becomes its companionship with this good
Jesus, it will be well for us to consider how, when His Majesty so
wills, we cannot do otherwise than walk with Him all the times as
is clear from the ways and methods whereby His Majesty
communicates Himself to us, and reveals His love for us by means
of such wonderful appearances and visions. Should the Lord grant
you any of the favours which I shall describe (I mean, if He
grants me ability to describe any of them), you must not be
dismayed. Even though it be not to us that He grants them, we must
give Him hearty praise that He should be pleased to commune with a
creature -- He Who is of such great majesty and power.

It may happen that, while the soul is not in the least expecting
Him to be about to grant it this favour, which it has never
thought it can possibly deserve, it is conscious that Jesus Christ
Our Lord is near to it, though it cannot see Him either with the
eyes of the body or with those of the soul. This (I do not know
why) is called an intellectual vision. I saw a person to whom God
had granted this favour, together with other favours which I shall
describe later. At first that person was greatly perturbed, for
she could not understand what the vision was, not having seen
anything. She realized with such certainty that it was Jesus
Christ Our Lord Who had revealed Himself to her in that way that
she could not doubt it -- I mean, could not doubt that that vision
was there. But as to its being from God or no she had great
misgivings, although the effects which it produced were so
remarkable that they suggested it came from Him. She had never
heard of an intellectual vision, or realized that there was any
such thing, but she understood quite clearly that it was this Lord
Who often spoke to her in the way I have described: until He
granted her this favour to which I am referring she never knew Who
was speaking to her, although she understood the words.

Being frightened about this vision (for it is not like an
imaginary vision, which is quickly gone, but lasts for many days -
- sometimes for more than a year), she went off to her confessor
in a state of great perturbation.199 "If you see nothing," he
asked her, "how do you know it is Our Lord?" Then he told her to
tell him what His face was like. She replied that she did not
know, that she had seen no face, and that she could not tell him
more than she had done already: what she did know was that it was
He Who was speaking to her and that it was no fancy. And, although
people aroused grievous misgivings in her about it, she felt again
and again that she could not doubt its genuineness, especially
when He said to her: "Be not afraid: it is I." These words had
such power that when she heard them she could not doubt, and she
was greatly strengthened and gladdened by such good companionship.
For she saw plainly that it was a great help to her to be
habitually thinking of God wherever she went and to be taking such
care to do nothing which would displease Him because she felt that
He was always looking at her. Whenever she wanted to draw near to
His Majesty in prayer, and at other times as well, she felt He was
so near that He could not fail to hear her, although she was
unable to hear Him speaking to her whenever she wished, but did so
at quite unexpected times, when it became necessary. She was
conscious that He was walking at her right hand, but this
consciousness arose, not from those senses which tell us that
another person is near us, but in another and a subtler way which
is indescribable. It is quite as unmistakable, however, and
produces a feeling of equal certainty, or even greater. Other
things of the kind might be attributable to fancy, but this thing
is not, for it brings such great benefits and produces such
effects upon the interior life as could not occur if it were the
result of melancholy. The devil again, could not do so much good:
were it his work, the soul would not have such peace and such
constant desires to please God and such scorn for everything that
does not lead it to Him. Later, this person attained a clear
realization that it was not the work of the devil and came to
understand it better and better.

None the less, I know she sometimes felt the gravest misgivings,
and at other times the greatest confusion,200 because she had no
idea whence such a great blessing had come to her. She and I were
so intimate that nothing happened in her soul of which I was
ignorant and thus I can be a good witness and you may be sure that
everything I say about it is true. This favour of the Lord brings
with it the greatest confusion and humility. If it came from the
devil, it would be just the reverse. As it is a thing which can be
clearly recognized as the gift of God and such feelings could not
possibly be produced by human effort, anyone who has it must know
it does not in reality come from him, but is a gift from the hand
of God. And although, as I believe, some of the other experiences
that have been described are greater favours than this, yet this
brings a special knowledge of God, and from this constant
companionship is born a most tender love toward His Majesty, and
yearnings, even deeper than those already described, to give
oneself wholly up to His service, and a great purity of
conscience; for the Presence Which the soul has at its side makes
it sensitive to everything. For though we know quite well that God
is present in all that we do, our nature is such that it makes us
lose sight of the fact; but when this favour is granted it can no
longer do so, for the Lord, Who is near at hand, awakens it. And
even the favours aforementioned occur much more commonly, as the
soul experiences a vivid and almost constant love for Him Whom it
sees or knows to be at its side.

In short, the greatness and the precious quality of this favour
are best seen in what the soul gains from it. It thanks the Lord,
Who bestows it on one that has not deserved it, and would exchange
it for no earthly treasure or joy. When the Lord is pleased to
withdraw it, the soul is left in great loneliness; yet all the
possible efforts that it might make to regain His companionship
are of little avail, for the Lord gives this when He wills and it
cannot be acquired. Sometimes, again, the companionship is that of
a saint and this is also a great help to us.

You will ask how, if this Presence cannot be seen, the soul knows
that it is that of Christ, or when it is a saint, or His most
glorious Mother. This is a question which the soul cannot answer,
nor can it understand how it knows what it does; it is perfectly
certain, however, that it is right. 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 more remarkable. There are also other spiritual
experiences which cannot be described, but they all help to show
us how impotent our nature is, when it comes to understanding the
great wonders of God, for we are not capable of understanding
these but can only marvel and praise His Majesty for giving them
to us. So let us give Him special thanks for them; for, as this is
not a favour which is granted to all, it is one which should be
highly esteemed and we must try to render the greatest services to
God Who has so many ways of helping us. For this reason no one
thus favoured has any better opinion of himself on that account.
On the contrary, he feels that he is serving God less than anyone
else on the earth, and yet that no one else has so great an
obligation to serve Him. Any fault which he commits, therefore,
pierces his very vitals and has every reason to do so.

These above-described effects which such visions cause in the soul
may be observed by any one of you whom the Lord leads by this way,
and you will then see that they are due neither to deception nor
to fancy. For, as I have said, if they are of the devil, I do not
think they can possibly last so long or do the soul such a great
deal of good, or bring it such inward peace. It is not usual for
one who is so evil to do so much good; he could not, in fact, even
if he would. The soul would soon become clouded over by the mist
of self-esteem and would begin to think itself better than others.
But its continual occupation with God and its fixing of the
thought on Him would make the devil so furious that, though he
might attempt such a thing once, he would not do so often. God is
so faithful that He will not allow the devil to have all this
power over a soul whose one aim is to please Him and to devote its
whole life to His honour and glory; He will see to it that the
devil is speedily disillusioned.

My point is, and will continue to be, that, if the soul walks in
the manner described above, and these favours of God are withdrawn
from it, His Majesty will see that it is the gainer, and if He
sometimes allows the devil to attack it, his efforts will be
brought to confusion. Therefore, daughters, if any of you travel
along this road, as I have said, do not be alarmed. It is well for
us to have misgivings and walk the more warily; and you must not
presume upon having received these favours and become careless,
for if you do not find them producing in you the result already
described it will be a sign that they are not of God. It will be
well at first for you to communicate this, in confession, to some
very learned man (for it is from such men that we must seek
illumination) or to any highly spiritual person if you know one.
Should your confessor not be a very spiritual man, someone with
learning is better; or, if you know such a person, it is best to
consult one both spiritual and learned. If he tells you that it is
fancy, do not let that trouble you, for fancy can have little
effect on your soul, either for good or for evil: commend yourself
to the Divine Majesty and pray Him not to allow you to be
deceived. If he tells you that it is the devil, this will be a
greater trial to you, though no learned man would say such a thing
if you have experienced the effects described; but, if he says it,
I know that the Lord Himself, Who is walking at your side, will
console you and reassure you, and will continue to give him light,
so that he in his turn may give it to you.

If your director, though a man of prayer, has not been led in this
way by the Lord, he will at once become alarmed and condemn it;
that is why I advise you to go to a man who has both spirituality
and great learning if such a one can be found. Your prioress
should give you leave to do this; for although, seeing you are
leading a good life, she may think your soul is safe, she will be
bound to allow you to consult someone for your own safety and for
hers as well. When you have finished these consultations, calm
yourself and do not go on talking about the matter, for sometimes,
when there is no reason for fear, the devil implants such
excessive misgivings that they prevent the soul from being content
with a single consultation, especially if the confessor has had
little experience and treats the matter timorously and enjoins you
to go and consult others. In such a case what should by rights be
a close secret gets noised abroad and the penitent is persecuted
and tormented; for she finds that what she thought was secret has
become public, and this leads to many sore trials, which, as
things are at present, might affect the Order. Great caution,
then, is necessary here and such caution I strongly recommend to
prioresses.

And let none of you imagine that, because a sister has had such
experiences, she is any better than the rest; the Lord leads each
of us as He sees we have need. Such experiences, if we use them
aright, prepare us to be better servants of God; but sometimes it
is the weakest whom God leads by this road; and so there is no
ground here either for approval or for condemnation. We must base
our judgments on the virtues. The saintliest will be she who
serves Our Lord with the greatest mortification and humility and
purity of conscience. Little, however, can be known with any
certainty about this on earth, nor until the true Judge gives each
his deserts. Then we shall be amazed to see how different His
judgment is from the ideas which we have formed on earth. May He
be for ever praised. Amen.

CHAPTER IX

Treats of the way in which the Lord communicates Himself to the
soul through imaginary visions and gives an emphatic warning that
we should be careful not to desire to walk in this way. Gives
reasons for the warning. This chapter is of great profit.

LET us now come to imaginary visions, in which the devil is said
to interfere more frequently than in those already described. This
may well be the case; but when they come from Our Lord they seem
to me in some ways more profitable because they are in closer
conformity with our nature, except for those which the Lord
bestows in the final Mansion, and with which no others can
compare.

Let us now imagine, as I said in the last chapter, that this Lord
is here. It is as if in a gold reliquary there were hidden a
precious stone of the highest value and the choicest virtues:
although we have never seen the stone, we know for certain that it
is there and if we carry it about with us we can have the benefit
of its virtues. We do not prize it any the less for not having
seen it, because we have found by experience that it has cured us
of certain illnesses for which it is a sovereign remedy. But we
dare not look at it, or open the reliquary in which it is
contained, nor are we able to do so; for only the owner of the
jewel knows how to open it, and though he has lent it to us so
that we may benefit by it, he has kept the key and so it is still
his own. He will open it when he wants to show it to us and he
will take it back when he sees fit to do so. And that is what God
does, too.

And now let us suppose that on some occasion the owner of the
reliquary suddenly wants to open it, for the benefit of the person
to whom he has lent it. Obviously this person will get much
greater pleasure from it if he can recall the wonderful brilliance
of the stone, and it will remain the more deeply engraven upon his
memory. This is what happens here. When Our Lord is pleased to
bestow greater consolations upon this soul, He grants it, in
whatever way He thinks best, a clear revelation of His sacred
Humanity, either as He was when He lived in the world, or as He
was after His resurrection; and although He does this so quickly
that we might liken the action to a flash of lightning, this most
glorious image is so deeply engraven upon the imagination that I
do not believe it can possibly disappear until it is where it can
be enjoyed to all eternity.

I speak of an "image", but it must not be supposed that one looks
at it as at a painting; it is really alive, and sometimes even
speaks to the soul and shows it things both great and secret. But
you must realize that, although the soul sees this for a certain
length of time, it can no more be gazing at it all the time than
it could keep gazing at the sun. So the vision passes very
quickly, though this is not because its brilliance hurts the
interior sight -- that is, the medium by which all such things are
seen -- as the brilliance of the sun hurts the eyes. When it is a
question of exterior sight, I can say nothing about it, for the
person I have mentioned, and of whom I can best speak, had not
experienced this; and reason can testify only inadequately to
things of which it has no experience. The brilliance of this
vision is like that of infused light or of a sun covered with some
material of the transparency of a diamond, if such a thing could
be woven. This raiment looks like the finest cambric. Almost
invariably the soul on which God bestows this favour remains in
rapture, because its unworthiness cannot endure so terrible a
sight.

I say "terrible", because, though the sight is the loveliest and
most delightful imaginable, even by a person who lived and strove
to imagine it for a thousand years, because it so far exceeds all
that our imagination and understanding can compass, its presence
is of such exceeding majesty that it fills the soul with a great
terror. It is unnecessary to ask here how, without being told, the
soul knows Who it is, for He reveals Himself quite clearly as the
Lord of Heaven and earth. This the kings of the earth never do:
indeed, they would be thought very little of for what they are,
but that they are accompanied by their suites, or heralds proclaim
them.

O, Lord, how little do we Christians know Thee! What will that day
be like when Thou comest to judge us? If when Thou comest here in
such a friendly way to hold converse with Thy bride the sight of
Thee causes us such fear, what will it be, O daughters, when with
that stern voice He says: "Depart, accursed of My Father"!201

Let us keep that in mind when we remember this favour which God
grants to the soul, and we shall find it of no small advantage to
us. Even Saint Jerome, holy man though he was, did not banish it
from his memory. If we do that we shall care nothing for all we
have suffered through keeping strictly to the observances of our
Order, for, however long this may take us, the time will be but
short by comparison with eternity. I can tell you truly that,
wicked as I am, I have never feared the torments of hell, for they
seem nothing by comparison with the thought of the wrath which the
damned will see in the Lord's eyes -- those eyes so lovely and
tender and benign. I do not think my heart could bear to see that;
and I have felt like this all my life. 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!202
It must be for this reason that the soul remains in suspension;
the Lord helps it in its weakness so that this may be united with
His greatness in this sublime communion with God.

When the soul is able to remain for a long time looking upon the
Lord, I do not think it can be a vision at all. It must rather be
that some striking idea creates a picture in the imagination: but
this will be a dead image by comparison with the other.

Some persons -- and I know this is the truth, for they have
discussed it with me; and not just three or four of them, but a
great many -- find that their imagination is so weak, or their
understanding is so nimble, or for some other reason their
imagination becomes so absorbed, that they think they can actually
see everything that is in their mind. If they had ever seen a true
vision they would realize their error beyond the possibility of
doubt. Little by little they build up the picture which they see
with their imagination, but this produces no effect upon them and
they remain cold -- much more so than they are after seeing a
sacred image. No attention, of course, should be paid to such a
thing, which will be forgotten much more quickly than a dream.

The experience we are discussing here is quite different. The soul
is very far from expecting to see anything and the thought of such
a thing has never even passed through its mind. All of a sudden
the whole vision is revealed to it and all its faculties and
senses are thrown into the direst fear and confusion, and then
sink into that blessed state of peace. It is just as when Saint
Paul was thrown to the ground and there came that storm and tumult
in the sky, just so, in this interior world, there is a great
commotion; and then all at once, as I have said, everything grows
calm, and the soul, completely instructed in such great truths,
has no need of another master. True wisdom, without any effort on
its own part, has overcome its stupidity and for a certain space
of time it enjoys the complete certainty that this favour comes
from God. However often it may be told that this is not so it
cannot be induced to fear that it may have been mistaken. Later,
when the confessor insinuates this fear, God allows the soul to
begin to hesitate as to whether He could possibly grant this
favour to such a sinner. But that is all; for, as I have said in
these other cases, in speaking of temptations in matters of faith,
the devil can disturb the soul, but he cannot shake the firmness
of its belief. On the contrary, the more fiercely he attacks it,
the more certain it becomes that he could never endow it with so
many blessings -- which is actually true, for over the interior of
the soul he wields less power. He may be able to reveal something
to it, but not with the same truth and majesty, nor can he produce
the same results.

As confessors cannot see all this for themselves, and a soul to
whom God has granted such a favour may be unable to describe it,
they have misgivings about it, and quite justifiably. So they have
to proceed cautiously, and even to wait for some time to see what
results these apparitions produce, and to observe gradually how
much humility they leave in the soul and to what extent it is
strengthened in virtue; if they come from the devil there will
soon be signs of the fact, for he will be caught out in a thousand
lies. If the confessor is experienced, and has himself been
granted such visions, it will not be long before he is able to
form a judgment, for the account which the soul gives will at once
show him whether they proceed from God or from the imagination or
from the devil, especially if His Majesty has granted him the gift
of discerning spirits. If he has this and is a learned man, he
will be able to form an opinion perfectly well, even though he may
be without experience.

The really essential thing, sisters, is that you should speak to
your confessor very plainly and candidly -- I do not mean here in
confessing your sins, for of course you will do so then, but in
describing your experiences in prayer. For unless you do this, I
cannot assure you that you are proceeding as you should or that it
is God Who is teaching you. God is very anxious for us to speak
candidly and clearly to those who are in His place, and to desire
them to be acquainted with all our thoughts, and still more with
our actions, however trivial these may be. If you do this, you
need not be disturbed, or worried, for, even if these things be
not of God, they will do you no harm if you are humble and have a
good conscience. His Majesty is able to bring good out of evil and
you will gain by following the road by which the devil hoped to
bring you to destruction. For, as you will suppose that it is God
Who is granting you these great favours, you will strive to please
Him better and keep His image ever in your mind. A very learned
man used to say that the devil is a skilful painter, and that, if
he were to show him an absolutely lifelike image of the Lord, it
would not worry him, because it would quicken his devotion, and so
he would be using the devil's own wicked weapons to make war on
him. However evil the painter be, one cannot fail to reverence the
picture that he paints, if it is of Him Who is our only Good.

This learned man thought that the counsel, given by some people,
to treat any vision of this kind with scorn,203 was very wrong: we
must reverence a painting of our King, he said, wherever we see
it. I think he is right; even on a worldly plane we should feel
that. If a person who had a great friend knew that insulting
things were being said about his portrait he would not be pleased.
How much more incumbent upon us is it, then, always to be
respectful when we see a crucifix or any kind of portrait of our
Emperor!

Although I have written this elsewhere, I have been glad to set it
down here, for I knew someone who was in great distress because
she had been ordered to adopt this derisive remedy. I do not know
who can have invented such advice, for, if it came from her
confessor, it would have been a torture to her: she would be bound
to obey him, and would have thought herself a lost soul unless she
had done so. My own advice is that, if you are given such counsel,
you should not accept it and should with all humility put forward
this argument that I have given you. I was extremely struck by the
good reasons against the practice alleged by the person who
advised me in this case.

The soul derives great profit from this favour bestowed by the
Lord, for thinking upon Him or upon His life and Passion recalls
His most meek and lovely face, which is the greatest comfort, just
as in the earthly sphere we get much more comfort from seeing a
person who is a great help to us than if we had never known him. I
assure you that such a delectable remembrance gives the greatest
help and comfort. It also brings many other blessings with it, but
as so much has been said about the effects caused by these things,
and there is more still to come, I will not fatigue myself or you
by adding more just now. I will only warn you that, when you learn
or hear that God is granting souls these graces, you must never
beseech or desire Him to lead you along this road. Even if you
think it a very good one, and to be greatly prized and reverenced,
there are certain reasons why such a course is not wise.

The first reason is that it shows a lack of humility to ask to be
given what you have never deserved, so I think anyone who asks for
this cannot be very humble. A peasant of lowly birth would never
dream of wishing to be a king; such a thing seems to him
impossible because he does not merit it. Anyone who is humble
feels just the same about these other things. I think they will
never be bestowed on a person devoid of humility, because before
the Lord grants a soul these favours He always gives it a high
degree of self-knowledge. And how could one who has such ambitions
realize that He is doing him a great favour in not casting him
into hell?

The second reason is that such a person is quite certain to be
deceived, or to be in great peril, because the devil has only to
see a door left slightly ajar to enter and play a thousand tricks
on us.

The third reason is to be found in the imagination. When a person
has a great desire for something, he persuades himself that he is
seeing or hearing what he desires, just as those who go about
desiring something all day think so much about it that after a
time they begin to dream of it.

The fourth reason is that it is very presumptuous in me to wish to
choose my path, because I cannot tell which path is best for me. I
must leave it to the Lord, Who knows me, to lead me by the path
which is best for me, so that in all things His will may be done.

In the fifth place, do you suppose that the trials suffered by
those to whom the Lord grants these favours are light ones? No,
they are very heavy, and of many kinds. How do you know if you
would be able to bear them?

In the sixth place, you may well find that the very thing from
which you had expected gain will bring you loss, just as Saul only
lost by becoming a king.

And besides these reasons, sisters, there are others. Believe me,
the safest thing is to will only what God wills, for He knows us
better than we know ourselves, and He loves us. Let us place
ourselves in His hands so that His will may be done in us; if we
cling firmly to this maxim and our wills are resolute we cannot
possibly go astray. And you must note that you will merit no more
glory for having received many of these favours; on the contrary,
the fact that you are receiving more imposes on you greater
obligations to serve. The Lord does not deprive us of anything
which adds to our merit, for this remains in our own power. There
are many saintly people who have never known what it is to receive
a favour of this kind, and there are others who receive a favour
of this kind, and there are others who received such favours,
although they are not saintly. Do not suppose, again, that they
occur continually. Each occasion on which the Lord grants them
brings with it a great many trials; and thus the soul does not
think about receiving more, but only about how to put those it
receives to a good use.

It is true that to have these favours must be the greatest help
towards attaining a high degree of perfection in the virtues; but
anyone who has attained the virtues at the cost of his own toil
has earned much more merit. I know of a person to whom the Lord
had granted some of these favours -- of two indeed; one was a man.
Both were desirous of serving His Majesty, at their own cost, and
without being given any of these great consolations; and they were
so anxious to suffer that they complained to Our Lord because He
bestowed favours on them, which, had it been possible, they would
have excused themselves from receiving. I am speaking here, not of
these visions, which bring us great gain, and are very much to be
prized, but of consolations which the Lord gives in contemplation.

It is true that, in my opinion, these desires are supernatural,
and come from souls fired with love, who would like the Lord to
see that they are not serving Him for pay; for which reason, as I
have said, they never spur themselves to greater efforts in God's
service by thinking of the glory which they will receive for
anything they do; rather do they serve Him for the satisfaction of
their love, for the nature of love invariably finds expression in
work of a thousand kinds. If it were able, the soul would invent
methods by which to be come consumed in Him, and if, for the
greater honour of God, it were necessary that it should remain
annihilated for ever, it would agree to this very willingly. May
He be for ever praised Who is pleased to show forth His greatness
by stooping to commune with such miserable creatures. Amen.

CHAPTER X

Speaks of other favours which God grants to the soul in a
different way from those already mentioned, and of the great
profit that they bring.

THERE are many ways in which the Lord communicates Himself to the
soul by means of these apparitions. Some of them come when the
soul is afflicted; others, when it is about to be visited by some
heavy trial; others, so that His Majesty may take His delight in
it and at the same time may comfort it. There is no need to
particularize about each of these; my intention is only to explain
in turn the different experiences which occur on this road, as far
as I understand them, so that you, sisters, may understand their
nature and the effects which they cause. And I am doing this so
that you may not suppose everything you imagine to be a vision,
and so that, when you do see a vision, you will know that such a
thing is possible and will not be disturbed or distressed. For,
when you are, it is a great gain for the devil; he is delighted to
see a soul distressed and uneasy, because he knows that this will
hinder it from employing itself in loving and praising God. His
Majesty also communicates Himself in other ways, which are much
more sublime, and are also less dangerous, because, I think, the
devil cannot counterfeit them. But, being very secret things, they
are difficult to describe, whereas imaginary visions can be
explained more readily.

When the Lord so wills, it may happen that the soul will be at
prayer, and in possession of all its senses, and that then there
will suddenly come to it a suspension in which the Lord
communicates most secret things to it, which it seems to see
within God Himself. These are not visions of the most sacred
Humanity; although I say that the soul "sees" Him, it really sees
nothing, for this is not an imaginary, but a notably intellectual,
vision, in which is revealed to the soul how all things are seen
in God, and how within Himself He contains them all. Such a vision
is highly profitable because, although it passes in a moment, it
remains engraven upon the soul. It causes us the greatest
confusion, by showing us clearly how wrongly we are acting when we
offend God, since it is within God Himself -- because we dwell
within Him, I mean -- that we are committing these great sins. I
want, if I can, to draw a comparison to explain this, for,
although it is a fact and we hear it stated frequently, we either
pay no heed to it or refuse to understand it; if we really
understood it, I do not think we could possibly be so
presumptuous.

Let us imagine that God is like a very large and beautiful mansion
or palace. This palace, then, as I say, is God Himself. Now can
the sinner go away from it in order to commit his misdeeds?
Certainly not, these abominations and dishonourable actions and
evil deeds which we sinners commit are done within the palace
itself -- that is, within God. Oh, fearful thought, worthy of deep
consideration and very profitable for us who are ignorant and
unable to understand these truths -- for if we could understand
them we could not possibly be guilty of such foolish presumption!
Let us consider, sisters, the great mercy and long-suffering of
God in not casting us straight into the depths, and let us render
Him the heartiest thanks and be ashamed of worrying over anything
that is done or said against us. It is the most dreadful thing in
the world that God our Creator should suffer so many misdeeds to
be committed by His creatures within Himself, while we ourselves
are sometimes worried about a single word uttered in our absence
and perhaps not even with a wrong intention.

Oh, human misery! How long will it be, daughters, before we
imitate this great God in any way? Oh, let us not deceive
ourselves into thinking that we are doing anything whatever by
merely putting up with insults! Let us endure everything, and be
very glad to do so, and love those who do us wrong; for, greatly
as we have offended this great God, He has not ceased loving us,
and so He has very good reason for desiring us all to forgive
those who have wronged us. I assure you, daughters, that, although
this vision passes quickly, it is a great favour for the Lord to
bestow it upon those to whom He grants it if they will try to
profit by having it habitually present in their minds.

It may also happen that, very suddenly and in a way which cannot
be described, God will reveal a truth that is in Himself and that
makes any truth to be found in the creatures seem like thick
darkness; He will also manifest very clearly that He alone is
truth and cannot lie. This is a very good explanation of David's
meaning in that Psalm where he says that every man is a liar.204
One would never take those words in that sense of one's own
accord, however many times one heard them, but they express a
truth which is infallible. I remember that story about Pilate, who
asked Our Lord so many questions, and at the time of His Passion
said to Him: '"What is truth?"205 And then I reflect how little we
understand of this Sovereign Truth here on earth.

I should like to be able to say more about this matter, but it is
impossible. Let us learn from this, sisters, that if we are in any
way to grow like our God and Spouse, we shall do well always to
study earnestly to walk in this truth. I do not mean simply that
we must not tell falsehoods, for as far as that is concerned --
glory be to God! -- I know that in these convents of ours you take
very great care never to lie about anything for any reason
whatsoever. I mean that we must walk in truth, in the presence of
God and man, in every way possible to us. In particular we must
not desire to be reputed better than we are and in all we do we
must attribute to God what is His, and to ourselves what is ours,
and try to seek after truth in everything. If we do that, we shall
make small account of this world, for it is all lying and
falsehood and for that reason cannot endure.

I was wondering once why Our Lord so dearly loved this virtue of
humility; and all of a sudden -- without, I believe, my having
previously thought of it -- the following reason came into my
mind: that it is because God is Sovereign Truth and to be humble
is to walk in truth, for it is absolutely true to say that we have
no good thing in ourselves, but only misery and nothingness; and
anyone who fails to understand this is walking in falsehood. He
who best understands it is most pleasing to Sovereign Truth
because he is walking in truth. May it please God, sisters, to
grant us grace never to fail to have this knowledge of ourselves.
Amen.

Our Lord grants the soul favours like these because He is pleased
to treat her like a true bride, who is determined to do His will
in all things, and to give her some knowledge of the way in which
she can do His will and of His greatness. I need say no more; I
have said these two things because they seem to me so helpful; for
there is no reason to be afraid of these favours, but only to
praise the Lord, because He gives them. In my opinion, there is
little scope here either for the devil or for the soul's own
imagination, and when it knows this the soul experiences a great
and lasting happiness.

CHAPTER XI

Treats of the desires to enjoy God which He gives the soul and
which are so great and impetuous that they endanger its life.
Treats also of the profit which comes from this favour granted by
the Lord.

HAVE all these favours which the Spouse has granted the soul been
sufficient to satisfy this little dove or butterfly (do not
suppose that I have forgotten her) and to make her settle down in
the place where she is to die? Certainly not; she is in a much
worse state than before; for, although she may have been receiving
these favours for many years, she is still sighing and weeping,
and each of them causes her fresh pain. The reason for this is
that, the more she learns about the greatness of her God, while
finding herself so far from Him and unable to enjoy Him, the more
her desire increases. For the more is revealed to her of how much
this great God and Lord deserves to be loved, the more does her
love for Him grow. And gradually, during these years, her desire
increases, so that she comes to experience great distress, as I
will now explain. I have spoken of years, because I am writing
about the experiences of the particular person about whom I have
been speaking here. But it must be clearly understood that no
limitations can be set to God's acts, and that He can raise a soul
to the highest point here mentioned in a single moment. His
Majesty has the power to do all that He wishes and He is desirous
of doing a great deal for us.

The soul, then, has these yearnings and tears and sighs, together
with the strong impulses which have already been described. They
all seem to arise from our love, and are accompanied by great
emotion, but they are all as nothing by comparison with this
other, for they are like a smouldering fire, the heat of which is
quite bearable, though it causes pain. While the soul is in this
condition, and interiorly burning, it often happens that a mere
fleeting thought of some kind (there is no way of telling whence
it comes, or how) or some remark which the soul hears about
death's long tarrying, deals it, as it were, a blow, or, as one
might say, wounds it with an arrow of fire. I do not mean that
there actually is such an arrow, but, whatever it is, it obviously
could not have come from our own nature. Nor is it actually a
blow, though I have spoken of it as such; but it makes a deep
wound, not, I think, in any region where physical pain can be
felt, but in the soul's most intimate depths. It passes as quickly
as a flash of lightning and leaves everything in our nature that
is earthly reduced to powder. During the time that it lasts we
cannot think of anything that has to do with our own existence: it
instantaneously enchains the faculties in such a way that they
have no freedom to do anything, except what will increase this
pain.

I should not like this to sound exaggerated: in reality I am
beginning to see, as I go on, that all I say falls short of the
truth, which is indescribable. It is an enrapturing of the senses
and faculties, except, as I have said, in ways which enhance this
feeling of distress. The understanding is keenly on the alert to
discover why this soul feels absent from God, and His Majesty now
aids it with so lively a knowledge of Himself that it causes the
distress to grow until the sufferer cries out aloud. However
patient a sufferer she may be, and however accustomed to enduring
great pain, she cannot help doing this, because this pain, as I
have said, is not in the body, but deep within the soul. It was in
this way that the person I have mentioned discovered how much more
sensitive the soul is than the body, and it was revealed to her
that this suffering resembles that of souls in purgatory; despite
their being no longer in the body they suffer much more than do
those who are still in the body and on earth.

I once saw a person in this state who I really believed was dying;
and this was not at all surprising, because it does in fact
involve great peril of death. Although it lasts only for a short
time, it leaves the limbs quite disjointed, and, for as long as it
continues, the pulse is as feeble as though the soul were about to
render itself up to God. It really is quite as bad as this. For,
while the natural heat of the body fails, the soul burns so
fiercely within that, if the flame were only a little stronger,
God would have fulfilled its desires. It is not that it feels any
bodily pain whatsoever, notwithstanding such a dislocation of the
limbs that for two or three days afterwards it is in great pain
and has not the strength even to write; in fact the body seems to
me never to be as strong as it was previously. The reason it feels
no pain must be that it is suffering so keenly within that it
takes no notice of the body. It is as when we have a very acute
pain in one spot; we may have many other pains but we feel them
less; this I have conclusively proved. In the present case, the
soul feels nothing at all, and I do not believe it would feel
anything if it were cut into little pieces.

You will tell me that this is imperfection and ask why such a
person does not resign herself to the will of God, since she has
surrendered herself to Him so completely. Down to this time she
had been able to do so, and indeed had spent her life doing so;
but now she no longer can because her reason is in such a state
that she is not her own mistress, and can think of nothing but the
cause of her suffering. Since she is absent from her Good, why
should she wish to live? She is conscious of a strange solitude,
since there is not a creature on the whole earth who can be a
companion to her -- in fact, I do not believe she would find any
in Heaven, save Him Whom she loves: on the contrary, all earthly
companionship is torment to her. She thinks of herself as of a
person suspended aloft, unable either to come down and rest
anywhere on earth or to ascend into Heaven. She is parched with
thirst, yet cannot reach the water; and the thirst is not a
tolerable one but of a kind that nothing can quench, nor does she
desire it to be quenched, except with that water of which Our Lord
spoke to the Samaritan woman,206 and that is not given to her.

Ah, God help me! Lord, how Thou dost afflict Thy lovers! Yet all
this is very little by comparison with what Thou bestowest upon
them later. It is well that great things should cost a great deal,
especially if the soul can be purified by suffering and enabled to
enter the seventh Mansion, just as those who are to enter Heaven
are cleansed in purgatory. If this is possible, its suffering is
no more than a drop of water in the sea. So true is this that,
despite all its torment and distress, which cannot, I believe, be
surpassed by any such things on earth (many of which this person
had endured, both bodily and spiritual, and they all seemed to her
nothing by comparison), the soul feels this affliction to be so
precious that it fully realizes it could never deserve it. But the
anguish is of such a kind that nothing can relieve it; none the
less the soul suffers it very gladly, and, if God so willed, would
suffer it all its life long, although this would be not to die
once, but to be always dying, for it is really quite as bad as
that.

And now, sisters, let us consider the condition of those who are
in hell. They are not resigned, as this soul is, nor have they
this contentment and delight which God gives it. They cannot see
that their suffering is doing them any good, yet they keep
suffering more and more -- I mean more and more in respect of
accidental pains207 -- for the torment suffered by the soul is
much more acute than that suffered by the body and the pains which
such souls have to endure are beyond comparison greater than what
we have here been describing. These unhappy souls know that they
will have to suffer in this way for ever and ever: what, then,
will become of them? And what is there that we can do -- or even
suffer -- in so short a life as this which will matter in the
slightest if it will free us from these terrible and eternal
torments? I assure you it is impossible to explain to anyone who
has not experienced it what a grievous thing is the soul's
suffering and how different it is from the suffering of the body.
The Lord will have us understand this so that we may be more
conscious of how much we owe Him for bringing us to a state in
which by His mercy we may hope that He will set us free and
forgive us our sins.

Let us now return to what we were discussing when we left this
soul in such affliction. It remains in this state only for a short
time (three or four hours at most, I should say); for, if the pain
lasted long, it would be impossible, save by a miracle, for
natural weakness to suffer it. On one occasion it lasted only for
a quarter of an hour and yet produced complete prostration. On
that occasion, as a matter of fact, the sufferer entirely lost
consciousness. The violent attack came on through her hearing some
words about 'life not ending".208 She was engaged in conversation
at the time -- it was the last day of Eastertide, and all that
Easter she had been affected with such aridity that she hardly
knew it was Easter at all. So just imagine anyone thinking that
these attacks can be resisted! It is no more possible to resist
them than for a person thrown into a fire to make the flames lose
their heat and not burn her. She cannot hide her anguish, so all
who are present realize the great peril in which she lies, even
though they cannot witness what is going on within her. It is true
that they can bear her company, but they only seem to her like
shadows -- as all other earthly things do too.

And now I want you to see that, if at any time you should find
yourselves in this condition, it is possible for your human
nature, weak as it is, to be of help to you. So let me tell you
this. It sometimes happens that, when a person is in this state
that you have been considering, and has such yearnings to die,209
because the pain is more than she can bear, that her soul seems to
be on the very point of leaving the body, she is really afraid and
would like her distress to be alleviated lest she should in fact
die. It is quite evident that this fear comes from natural
weakness, and yet, on the other hand, the desire does not leave
her, nor can she possibly find any means of dispelling the
distress until the Lord Himself dispels it for her. This He does,
as a general rule, by granting her a deep rapture or some kind of
vision, in which the true Comforter comforts and strengthens her
so that she can wish to live for as long as He wills.

This is a distressing thing, but it produces the most wonderful
effects and the soul at once loses its fear of any trials which
may befall it; for by comparison with the feelings of deep anguish
which its spirit has experienced these seem nothing. Having gained
so much, the soul would be glad to suffer them all again and
again; but it has no means of doing so nor is there any method by
which it can reach that state again until the Lord wills, just as
there is no way of resisting or escaping it when it comes. The
soul has far more contempt for the world than it had previously,
for it sees that no worldly thing was of any avail to it in its
torment; and it is very much more detached from the creatures,
because it sees that it can be comforted and satisfied only by the
Creator, and it has the greatest fear and anxiety not to offend
Him, because it sees that He can torment as well as comfort.

There are two deadly perils, it seems to me, on this spiritual
road. This is one of them -- and it is indeed a peril and no light
one. The other is the peril of excessive rejoicing and delight,
which can be carried to such an extreme that it really seems as if
the soul is swooning, and as if the very slightest thing would be
enough to drive it out of the body: this would really bring it no
little happiness.

Now, sisters, you will see if I was not right in saying that
courage is necessary for us here and that if you ask the Lord for
these things He will be justified in answering you as He answered
the sons of Zebedee: "Can you drink the chalice?"210 I believe,
sisters, that we should all reply: "We can"; and we should be
quite right to do so, for His Majesty gives the strength to those
who, He sees, have need of it, and He defends these souls in every
way and stands up for them if they are persecuted and spoken ill
of, as He did for the Magdalen211 -- by His actions if not in
words. And in the end -- ah, in the end, before they die, He
repays them for everything at once, as you are now going to see.
May He be for ever blessed and may all creatures praise Him. Amen.

SEVENTH MANSIONS

In which there are Four Chapters.

CHAPTER I

Treats of great favours which God bestows on the souls that have
attained entrance to the Seventh Mansions. Describes how in the
author's opinion there is some difference between the soul and the
spirit although both are one. There are notable things in this
chapter.

YOU will think, sisters, that so much has been said about this
spiritual road that there cannot possibly be any more to say. It
would be a great mistake to think that; just as the greatness of
God is without limit, even so are His works. Who will ever come to
an end of recounting His mercies and wonders? It is impossible
that any should do so; do not be surprised, therefore, at what has
been said and at what will be said now, for it is only a fraction
of the things that still remain to be related about God. Great is
the mercy that He shows us in communicating these things in such a
way that we may come to learn of them; for the more we know of His
communion with creatures, the more we shall praise His greatness,
and we shall strive not to despise a soul in which the Lord takes
such delight. Each of us possesses a soul, but we do not prize our
souls as creatures made in God's image deserve and so we do not
understand the great secrets which they contain. If it be His
Majesty's will, may it please Him to guide my pen, and give me to
understand how I may tell you some of the many things which there
are to be said and which God reveals to every soul that He brings
into this Mansion. Earnestly have I besought His Majesty, since He
knows my intention is that His mercies be not hidden, to the
greater praise and glory of His name.

I am hopeful, sisters, that, not for my sake but for your sakes,
He will grant me this favour, so that you may understand how
important it is that no fault of yours should hinder the
celebration of His Spiritual Marriage with your souls, which, as
you will see, brings with it so many blessings. O great God!
Surely a creature as miserable as I must tremble to treat of
anything so far beyond what I deserve to understand. And indeed I
have been in a state of great confusion and have wondered if it
will not be better for me in a few words to bring my account of
this Mansion to an end. I am so much afraid it will be thought
that my knowledge of it comes from experience, and this makes me
very much ashamed; for, knowing myself as I do for what I am, such
a thought is terrible. On the other hand, whatever your judgment
about it may be, it has seemed to me that this shame is due to
temptation and weakness. Let the whole world cry out upon me, so
long as God is praised and understood a little better. At all
events I may perhaps be dead when this comes to be seen. Blessed
be He Who lives and shall live for ever. Amen.

When Our Lord is pleased to have pity upon this soul, which
suffers and has suffered so much out of desire for Him, and which
He has now taken spiritually to be His bride, He brings her into
this Mansion of His, which is the seventh, before consummating the
Spiritual Marriage. For He must needs have an abiding-place in the
soul, just as He has one in Heaven, where His Majesty alone
dwells: so let us call this a second Heaven. It is very important,
sisters, that we should not think of the soul as of something
dark. It must seem dark to most of us, as we cannot see it, for we
forget that there is not only a light which we can see, but also
an interior light, and so we think that within our soul there is
some kind of darkness. Of the soul that is not in grace, I grant
you, that is true -- not, however, from any defect in the Sun of
Justice, Who is within it and is giving it being, but because, as
I think I said in describing the first Mansion, this soul is not
capable212 of receiving the light. A certain person came to see
that these unhappy souls are, as it were, in a dark prison, with
their feet and hands bound so that they can do no good thing which
will help them to win merit;213 they are both blind and dumb. We
do well to take pity on them, realizing that there was a time when
we were ourselves like them and that the Lord may have mercy on
them also.

Let us take especial care, sisters, to pray to Him for them, and
not be negligent. To pray for those who are in mortal sin is the
best kind of almsgiving -- a much better thing than it would be to
loose a Christian whom we saw with his hands tied behind him,
bound with a stout chain, made fast to a post and dying of hunger,
not for lack of food, since he has beside him the most delicious
things to eat, but because he cannot take them and put them into
his mouth although he is weary to death and actually knows that he
is on the point of dying, and not merely a death of the body, but
one which is eternal. Would it not be extremely cruel to stand
looking at such a man and not give him this food to eat? And
supposing you could loose his chains by means of your prayers? You
see now what I mean. For the love of God, I beg you always to
remember such souls when you pray.214

However, it is not of these that we are now speaking, but of those
who, by God's mercy, have done penance for their sins and are in
grace. We must not think of souls like theirs as mean and
insignificant; for each is an interior world, wherein are the many
and beauteous Mansions that you have seen; it is reasonable that
this should be so, since within each soul there is a mansion for
God. Now, when His Majesty is pleased to grant the soul the
aforementioned favour of this Divine Marriage, He first of all
brings it into His own Mansion. And His Majesty is pleased that it
should not be as on other occasions, when He has granted it
raptures, in which I certainly think it is united with Him, as it
is in the above-mentioned Prayer of Union, although the soul does
not feel called to enter into its own centre, as here in this
Mansion, but is affected only in its higher part. Actually it
matters little what happens: whatever it does, the Lord unites it
with Himself, but He makes it blind and dumb, as He made Saint
Paul at his conversion,215 and so prevents it from having any
sense of how or in what way that favour comes which it is
enjoying; the great delight of which the soul is then conscious is
the realization of its nearness to God. But when He unites it with
Him, it understands nothing; the faculties are all lost.

But in this Mansion everything is different. Our good God now
desires to remove the scales from the eyes of the soul,216 so that
it may see and understand something of the favour which He is
granting it, although He is doing this in a strange manner. It is
brought into this Mansion by means of an intellectual vision,217
in which, by a representation of the truth in a particular way,
the Most Holy Trinity reveals Itself, in all three Persons.218
First of all the spirit becomes enkindled and is illumined, as it
were, by a cloud of the greatest brightness. It sees these three
Persons, individually, and yet, by a wonderful kind of knowledge
which is given to it, the soul realizes that most certainly and
truly all these three Persons are one Substance and one Power and
one Knowledge and one God alone; so that what we hold by faith the
soul may be said here to grasp219 by sight, although nothing is
seen by the eyes, either of the body or of the soul,220 for it is
no imaginary vision. Here all three Persons communicate Themselves
to the soul and speak to the soul and explain to it those words
which the Gospel attributes to the Lord -- namely, that He and the
Father and the Holy Spirit will come to dwell with the soul which
loves Him and keeps His commandments.221

Oh, God help me! What a difference there is between hearing and
believing these words222 and being led in this way to realize how
true they are! Each day this soul wonders more, for she feels that
they have never left her, and perceives quite clearly, in the way
I have described, that They are in the interior of her heart -- in
the most interior place of all and in its greatest depths. So
although, not being a learned person, she cannot say how this is,
she feels within herself this Divine companionship.

This may lead you to think that such a person will not remain in
possession of her senses but will be so completely absorbed that
she will be able to fix her mind upon nothing. But no: in all that
belongs to the service of God she is more alert than before; and,
when not otherwise occupied, she rests in that happy
companionship. Unless her soul fails God, He will never fail, I
believe, to give her the most certain assurance of His Presence.
She has great confidence that God will not leave her, and that,
having granted her this favour, He will not allow her to lose it.
For this belief the soul has good reason, though all the time she
is walking more carefully than ever, so that she may displease Him
in nothing.

This Presence is not of course always realized so fully -- I mean
so clearly -- as it is when it first comes, or on certain other
occasions when God grants the soul this consolation; if it were,
it would be impossible for the soul to think of anything else, or
even to live among men. But although the light which accompanies
it may not be so clear, the soul is always aware that it is
experiencing this companionship. We might compare the soul to a
person who is with others in a very bright room; and then suppose
that the shutters are closed so that the people are all in
darkness. The light by which they can be seen has been taken away,
and, until it comes back, we shall be unable to see them, yet we
are none the less aware that they are there. It may be asked if,
when the light returns, and this person looks for them again, she
will be able to see them. To do this is not in her power; it
depends on when Our Lord is pleased that the shutters of the
understanding shall be opened. Great is the mercy which He grants
the soul in never going away from her and in willing that she
shall understand this so clearly.

It seems that the Divine Majesty, by means of this wonderful
companionship, is desirous of preparing the soul for yet more. For
clearly she will be greatly assisted to go onward in perfection
and to lose the fear which previously she sometimes had of the
other favours that were granted to her, as has been said above.
The person already referred to found herself better in every way,
however numerous were her trials and business worries, the
essential part of her soul seemed never to move from that
dwelling-place. So in a sense she felt that her soul was divided;
and when she was going through great trials, shortly after God had
granted her this favour, she complained of her soul, just as
Martha complained of Mary.223 Sometimes she would say that it was
doing nothing but enjoy itself in that quietness, while she
herself was left with all her trials and occupations so that she
could not keep it company.

You will think this absurd, daughters, but it is what actually
happens. Although of course the soul is not really divided, what I
have said is not fancy, but a very common experience. As I was
saying, it is possible to make observations concerning interior
matters and in this way we know that there is some kind of
difference, and a very definite one, between the soul and the
spirit, although they are both one. So subtle is the division
perceptible between them that sometimes the operation of the one
seems as different from that of the other as are the respective
joys that the Lord is pleased to give them. It seems to me, too,
that the soul is a different thing from the faculties and that
they are not all one and the same. There are so many and such
subtle things in the interior life that it would be presumptuous
for me to begin to expound them. But we shall see everything in
the life to come if the Lord, of His mercy, grants us the favour
of bringing us to the place where we shall understand these
secrets.

CHAPTER II

Continues the same subject. Describes the difference between
spiritual union and spiritual marriage. Explains this by subtle
comparisons.

LET us now come to treat of the Divine and Spiritual Marriage,
although this great Favour cannot be fulfilled perfectly in us
during our lifetime, for if we were to withdraw ourselves from God
this great blessing would be lost. When granting this favour for
the first time, His Majesty is pleased to reveal Himself to the
soul through an imaginary vision of His most sacred Humanity, so
that it may clearly understand what is taking place and not be
ignorant of the fact that it is receiving so sovereign a gift. To
other people the experience will come in a different way. To the
person of whom we have been speaking the Lord revealed Himself one
day, when she had just received Communion, in great splendour and
beauty and majesty, as He did after His resurrection, and told her
that it was time she took upon her His affairs as if they were her
own and that He would take her affairs upon Himself; and He added
other words which are easier to understand than to repeat.224

This, you will think, was nothing new, since on other occasions
the Lord had revealed Himself to that soul in this way. But it was
so different that it left her quite confused and dismayed: for one
reason, because this vision came with great force; for another,
because of the words which He spoke to her, and also because, in
the interior of her soul, where He revealed Himself to her, she
had never seen any visions but this. For you must understand that
there is the greatest difference between all the other visions we
have mentioned and those belonging to this Mansion, and there is
the same difference between the Spiritual Betrothal and the
Spiritual Marriage as there is between two betrothed persons and
two who are united so that they cannot be separated any more.

As I have already said, one makes these comparisons because there
are no other appropriate ones, yet it must be realized that the
Betrothal has no more to do with the body than if the soul were
not in the body, and were nothing but spirit. Between the
Spiritual Marriage and the body there is even less connection, for
this secret union takes place in the deepest centre of the soul,
which must be where God Himself dwells, and I do not think there
is any need of a door by which to enter it. I say there is no need
of a door because all that has so far been described seems to have
come through the medium of the senses and faculties and this
appearance of the Humanity of the Lord must do so too. But what
passes in the union of the Spiritual Marriage is very different.
The Lord appears in the centre of the soul, not through an
imaginary, but through an intellectual vision (although this is a
subtler one than that already mentioned),225 just as He appeared
to the Apostles, without entering through the door, when He said
to them: "Pax vobis".226 This instantaneous communication of God
to the soul is so great a secret and so sublime a favour, and such
delight is felt by the soul, that I do not know with what to
compare it, beyond saying that the Lord is pleased to manifest to
the soul at that moment the glory that is in Heaven, in a sublimer
manner than is possible through any vision or spiritual
consolation. It is impossible to say more than that, as far as one
can understand, the soul (I mean the spirit of this soul) is made
one with God, Who, being likewise a Spirit, has been pleased to
reveal the love that He has for us by showing to certain persons
the extent of that love, so that we may praise His greatness. For
He has been pleased to unite Himself with His creature in such a
way that they have become like two who cannot be separated from
one another: even so He will not separate Himself from her.

The Spiritual Betrothal is different: here the two persons are
frequently separated, as is the case with union, for, although by
union is meant the joining of two things into one, each of the
two, as is a matter of common observation, can be separated and
remain a thing by itself. This favour of the Lord passes quickly
and afterwards the soul is deprived of that companionship -- I
mean so far as it can understand. In this other favour of the Lord
it is not so: the soul remains all the time in that centre with
its God. We might say that union is as if the ends of two wax
candles were joined so that the light they give is one: the wicks
and the wax and the light are all one, yet afterwards the one
candle can be perfectly well separated from the other and the
candles become two again, or the wick may be withdrawn from the
wax. But here it is like rain falling from the heavens into a
river or a spring; there is nothing but water there and it is
impossible to divide or separate the water belonging to the river
from that which fell from the heavens. Or it is as if a tiny
streamlet enters the sea, from which it will find no way of
separating itself, or as if in a room there were two large windows
through which the light streamed in: it enters in different places
but it all becomes one.

Perhaps when St. Paul says: "He who is joined to God becomes one
spirit with Him,"227 he is referring to this sovereign Marriage,
which presupposes the entrance of His Majesty into the soul by
union. And he also says: Mihi vivere Christus est, mori lucrum.228
This, I think, the soul may say here, for it is here that the
little butterfly to which we have referred dies, and with the
greatest joy, because Christ is now its life.

This, with the passage of time, becomes more evident through its
effects; for the soul clearly understands, by certain secret
aspirations, that it is endowed with life by God. Very often these
aspirations are so vehement that what they teach cannot229
possibly be doubted: though they cannot be described, the soul
experiences them very forcibly. One can only say that this feeling
is produced at times by certain delectable words which, it seems,
the soul cannot help uttering, such as: "O life of my life, and
sustenance that sustaineth me!" and things of that kind. For from
those Divine breasts, where it seems that God is ever sustaining
the soul, flow streams of milk, which solace all who dwell in the
Castle; it seems that it is the Lord's will for them to enjoy all
that the soul enjoys, so that, from time to time, there should
flow from this mighty river, in which this tiny little spring is
swallowed up, a stream of this water, to sustain those who in
bodily matters have to serve the Bridegroom and the bride. And
just as a person suddenly plunged into such water would become
aware of it, and, however unobservant he might be, could not fail
to become so, the same thing may be said, with even greater
confidence, of these operations to which I refer. For just as a
great stream of water could never fall on us without having an
origin somewhere, as I have said, just so it becomes evident that
there is someone in the interior of the soul who sends forth these
arrows and thus gives life to this life, and that there is a sun
whence this great light proceeds, which is transmitted to the
faculties in the interior part of the soul. The soul, as I have
said, neither moves from that centre nor loses its peace, for He
Who gave His peace to the Apostles when they were all together230
can give peace to the soul.

It has occurred to me that this salutation of the Lord must mean
much more than the mere words suggest, as must also His telling
the glorious Magdalen to go in peace;231 for the words of the Lord
are like acts wrought in us, and so they must have produced some
effect in those who were already prepared to put away from them
everything corporeal and to leave the soul in a state of pure
spirituality, so that it might be joined with Uncreated Spirit in
this celestial union. For it is quite certain that, when we empty
ourselves of all that is creature and rid ourselves of it for the
love of God, that same Lord will fill our souls with Himself.
Thus, one day, when Jesus Christ was praying for His Apostles (I
do not know where this occurs),232 He asked that they might become
one with the Father and with Him, even as Jesus Christ our Lord is
in the Father and the Father is in Him. I do not know what greater
love there can be than this. And we shall none of us fail to be
included here, for His Majesty went on to say: "Not for them alone
do I pray, but also for all who believe in Me"233; and again: "I
am in them."234

Oh, God help me! How true are these words and how well the soul
understands them, for in this state it can actually see their
truth for itself. And how well we should all understand them were
it not for our own fault! The words of Jesus Christ our King and
Lord cannot fail; but, because we ourselves fail by not preparing
ourselves and departing from all that can shut out this light, we
do not see ourselves in this mirror into which we are gazing and
in which our image is engraved.235

Let us now return to what we were saying. When Our Lord brings the
soul into this Mansion of His, which is the centre of the soul
itself (for they say that the empyrean heaven, where Our Lord is,
does not move like the other heavens), it seems, on entering, to
be subject to none of the usual movements of the faculties and the
imagination, which injure it and take away its peace. I may seem
to be giving the impression that, when the soul reaches the state
in which God grants it this favour, it is sure of its salvation
and free from the risk of backsliding. But that is not my meaning,
and whenever I treat of this matter and say that the soul seems to
be in safety I should be understood as meaning for so long as the
Divine Majesty holds it thus by the hand and it does not offend
Him. At all events, I know for certain that, even when it finds
itself in this state, and even if the state has lasted for years,
it does not consider itself safe, but goes on its way with much
greater misgiving than before and refrains more carefully from
committing the smallest offence against God. It is also strongly
desirous of serving Him, as will be explained later on, and is
habitually afflicted and confused when it sees how little it is
able to do and how great is the extent of its obligations, which
is no small cross to it and a very grievous penance; for the
harder the penance which this soul performs, the greater is its
delight. Its real penance comes when God takes away its health and
strength so that it can no longer perform any. I have described
elsewhere the great distress which this brings, but it is much
greater here. This must be due to the nature of the ground in
which the soul is planted, for a tree planted by the streams of
water is fresher and gives more fruit,236 so how can we marvel at
the desires of this soul, since its spirit is verily made one with
the celestial water of which we have been speaking?

Returning to what I was saying, it must not be thought that the
faculties and senses and passions are always in this state of
peace, though the soul itself is. In the other Mansions there are
always times of conflict and trial and weariness, but they are not
of such a kind as to rob the soul of its peace and stability -- at
least, not as a rule. This "centre" of our soul, or "spirit," is
something so difficult to describe, and indeed to believe, that I
think, sisters, as I am so bad at explaining myself, I will not
subject you to the temptation of disbelieving what I say, for it
is difficult to understand how the soul can have trials and
afflictions and yet be in peace. I want to put before you one or
two comparisons: God grant they may be of some value, but, if they
are not, I know that what I have said is the truth.

A king is living in His palace: many wars are waged in his kingdom
and many other distressing things happen there, but he remains
where he is despite them all. So it is here: although in the other
Mansions there are many disturbances and poisonous creatures, and
the noise of all this can be heard, nobody enters this Mansion and
forces the soul to leave it; and, although the things which the
soul hears cause it some distress, they are not of a kind to
disturb it or to take away its peace, for the passions are already
vanquished, and thus are afraid to enter there because to do so
would only exhaust them further. Our whole body may be in pain,
yet if our head is sound the fact that the body is in pain will
not cause it to ache as well. These comparisons make me smile and
I do not like them at all, but I know no others. Think what you
will; what I have said is the truth.

CHAPTER III

Treats of the striking effects produced by this prayer
aforementioned. It is necessary to observe and remember the
effects it produces, for the difference between them and those
already described is remarkable.

As we are saying, then, this little butterfly has now died, full
of joy at having found rest, and within her lives Christ. Let us
see what her new life is like, and how different it is from her
earlier one, for it is by the effects which result from this
prayer that we shall know if what has been said is true. As far as
I can understand, the effects are these.

First, there is a self-forgetfulness which is so complete that it
really seems as though the soul no longer existed, because it is
such that she has neither knowledge nor remembrance that there is
either heaven or life or honour for her, so entirely is she
employed in seeking the honour of God. It appears that the words
which His Majesty addressed to her have produced their effect --
namely, that she must take care of His business and He will take
care of hers.237 And thus, happen what may, she does not mind in
the least, but lives in so strange a state of forgetfulness that,
as I say, she seems no longer to exist, and has no desire to exist
-- no, absolutely none -- save when she realizes that she can do
something to advance the glory and honour of God, for which she
would gladly lay down her life.

Do not understand by this, daughters, that she neglects to eat and
sleep (though having to do this is no little torment to her), or
to do anything which is made incumbent upon her by her profession.
We are talking of interior matters: as regards exterior ones there
is little to be said. Her great grief is to see that all she can
do of her own strength is as nothing. Anything that she is capable
of doing and knows to be of service to Our Lord she would not fail
to do for any reason upon earth.

The second effect produced is a great desire to suffer, but this
is not of such a kind as to disturb the soul, as it did
previously. So extreme is her longing for the will of God to be
done in her that whatever His Majesty does she considers to be for
the best: if He wills that she should suffer, well and good; if
not, she does not worry herself to death as she did before.

When these souls are persecuted again, they have a great interior
joy, and much more peace than in the state described above. They
bear no enmity to those who ill-treat them, or desire to do so.
Indeed they conceive a special love for them, so that, if they see
them in some trouble, they are deeply grieved and would do
anything possible to relieve them; they love to commend them to
God, and they would rejoice at not being given some of the honours
which His Majesty bestows upon them if their enemies might have
them instead and thus be prevented from offending Our Lord.

What surprises me most is this. You have already seen what trials
and afflictions these souls have suffered because of their desire
to die and thus to enjoy Our Lord. They have now an equally strong
desire to serve Him, and to sing His praise, and to help some soul
if they can. So what they desire now is not merely not to die but
to live for a great many years and to suffer the severest trials,
if by so doing they can become the means whereby the Lord is
praised, even in the smallest thing. If they knew for certain
that, on leaving the body, they would have fruition of God, their
attitude would not be affected, nor is it altered when they think
of the glory which belongs to the saints, for they do not desire
as yet to attain this. Their conception of glory is of being able
in some way to help the Crucified, especially when they see how
often people offend Him and how few there are who really care
about His honour and are detached from everything else.

True, they sometimes forget this, turn with tender longing to the
thought of enjoying God and desire to escape from this exile,
especially when they see how little they are doing to serve Him.
But then they turn back and look within themselves and remember
that they have Him with them continually; and they are content
with this and offer His Majesty their will to live as the most
costly oblation they can give Him. They are no more afraid of
death than they would be of gentle rapture. The explanation of
this is that it is He Who gave the soul those earlier desires,
accompanied by such excessive torment, that now gives it these
others. May He be blessed and praised for ever.

In short, the desires of these souls are no longer for
consolations or favours, for they have with them the Lord Himself
and it is His Majesty Who now lives in them. His life, of course,
was nothing but a continual torment and so He is making our life
the same, at least as far as our desires go. In other respects, He
treats us as weaklings, though He has ample fortitude to give us
when He sees that we need it. These souls have a marked detachment
from everything and a desire to be always either alone or busy
with something that is to some soul's advantage. They have no
aridities or interior trials but a remembrance of Our Lord and a
tender love for Him, so that they would like never to be doing
anything but giving Him praise. When the soul is negligent, the
Lord Himself awakens it in the way that has been described, so
that it sees quite clearly that this impulse, or whatever it is
called, proceeds from the interior of the soul, as we said when
discussing these impulses. It is now felt very gently, but it
proceeds neither from the thought nor from the memory, nor can it
be supposed that the soul has had any part in it. This is so usual
and occurs so frequently that it has been observed with special
care: just as the flames of a fire, however great, never travel
downwards, but always upwards, so here it is evident that this
interior movement proceeds from the centre of the soul and awakens
the faculties.

Really, were there nothing else to be gained from this way of
prayer but our realization of God's special care for us in His
communing with us and of the way He keeps begging us to dwell with
Him (for He seems to be doing nothing less), I believe that all
trials would be well endured if they led to the enjoyment of these
gentle yet penetrating touches of His love. This, sisters, you
will have experienced, for I think that, when the soul reaches the
Prayer of Union, the Lord begins to exercise this care over us if
we do not neglect the keeping of His commandments. When this
experience comes to you, remember that it belongs to this
innermost Mansion, where God dwells in our souls, and give Him
fervent praise, for it is He who sends it to you, like a message,
or a letter, written very lovingly and in such a way that He would
have you alone be able to understand what He has written and what
He is asking of you in it.238 On no account must you fail to
answer His Majesty, even if you are busy with exterior affairs and
engaged in conversation. It may often happen that Our Lord will be
pleased to bestow this secret favour upon you in public, as your
reply must needs be an interior one, it will be very easy for you
to do what I say and make an act of love or exclaim with Saint
Paul: "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?"239 Then He will show
you many ways of pleasing Him. For now is the accepted time: He
seems indeed to be listening to us and this delicate touch almost
always prepares the soul to be able to do, with a resolute will,
what He has commanded it.

The difference between this Mansion and the rest has already been
explained. There are hardly any of the periods of aridity or
interior disturbance in it which at one time or another have
occurred in all the rest, but the soul is almost always in
tranquility. It is not afraid that this sublime favour may be
counterfeited by the devil but retains the unwavering certainty
that it comes from God. For, as has been said, the senses and
faculties have no part in this: His Majesty has revealed Himself
to the soul and taken it with Him into a place where, as I
believe, the devil will not enter, because the Lord will not allow
him to do so; and all the favours which the Lord grants the soul
here, as I have said, come quite independently of the acts of the
soul itself, apart from that of its having committed itself wholly
to God.

So tranquilly and noiselessly does the Lord teach the soul in this
state and do it good that I am reminded of the building of
Solomon's temple, during which no noise could be heard; just so,
in this temple of God, in this Mansion of His, He and the soul
alone have fruition of each other in the deepest silence. There is
no reason now for the understanding to stir, or to seek out
anything, for the Lord Who created the soul is now pleased to calm
it and would have it look, as it were, through a little chink, at
what is passing. Now and then it loses sight of it and is unable
to see anything; but this is only for a very brief time. The
faculties, I think, are not lost here; it is merely that they do
not work but seem to be dazed.

And I am quite dazed myself when I observe that, on reaching this
state, the soul has no more raptures (accompanied, that is to say,
by the suspension of the senses),240 save very occasionally, and
even then it has not the same transports and flights of the
spirit. These raptures, too, happen only rarely, and hardly ever
in public as they very often did before.241 Nor have they any
connection, as they had before, with great occasions of devotion;
if we see a devotional image or hear a sermon, it is almost as if
we had heard nothing, and it is the same with music. Previously,
the poor little butterfly was always so worried that everything
frightened her and made her fly away. But it is not so now,
whether because she has found her rest, or because the soul has
seen so much in this Mansion that it can be frightened at nothing,
or because it no longer has that solitude which it was wont to
have, now that it is enjoying such companionship. Well, sisters, I
do not know what the reason may be, but, when the Lord begins to
reveal the contents of this Mansion and brings souls into it, they
lose the great weakness which was such a trial to them and of
which previously they could not rid themselves. Perhaps the reason
is that the Lord has so greatly strengthened and dilated and
equipped the soul, or it may be that, for reasons which His
Majesty alone knows, He was anxious to make a public revelation of
His secret dealings with such souls, for His judgments surpass all
that we can imagine here on earth.

These effects God bestows, together with all those other good
effects already described in the above-mentioned degrees of
prayer, when the soul approaches Him, and He also gives the soul
that kiss for which the Bride besought Him; for I understand it to
be in this Mansion that that petition is fulfilled. Here to this
wounded hart are given waters in abundance. Here the soul delights
in the tabernacle of God.242 Here the dove sent out by Noe to see
if the storm is over finds the olive-branch243 -- the sign that it
has discovered firm ground amidst the waters and storms of this
world.

Oh, Jesus! If only one knew how many things there are in Scripture
which describe this peace of the soul! My God, since Thou seest
how needful it is for us, do Thou inspire Christians to desire to
seek it; take it not, by Thy mercy, from those to whom Thou hast
given it, and who, until Thou give them true peace and take them
where peace will never end, must always live in fear. I say "true"
peace, not because I think this peace is not true, but because in
this life war might always begin again if we were to withdraw from
God.

And what will be the feeling of these souls when they realize that
they might lack so great a blessing? The thought makes them walk
the more warily and endeavour to bring strength out of their
weakness, so as not to be responsible for losing any opportunity
which might offer itself to them of pleasing God better. The more
they are favoured by God, the more timorous and fearful do they
become concerning themselves, and as they have learned more about
their own wretchedness by comparing it with His greatness and
their sins are now so much more serious to them, they often go
about, like the Publican, without daring to lift up their eyes.244
At other times, they long to reach the end of their lives so as to
be in safety, though they are soon anxious again to live longer so
that they may serve Him because of the love which they bear Him,
as has been said, and they trust all that concerns themselves to
His mercy. Sometimes the many favours they receive leave them
overwhelmed, and afraid lest they be like an overladen ship
sinking to the bottom of the sea.

I assure you, sisters, that they have no lack of crosses, but
these do not unsettle them or deprive them of their peace. The few
storms pass quickly, like waves of the sea, and fair weather
returns, and then the Presence of the Lord which they have within
them makes them forget everything. May He be for ever blessed and
praised by all His creatures. Amen.

CHAPTER IV

Concludes by describing what appears to be Our Lord's aim in
granting the soul such great favours and says how necessary it is
for Martha and Mary to walk in each other's company. This chapter
is very profitable.

You must not take it, sisters, that the effects which I have
described as occurring in these souls are invariably present all
the time; it is for this reason that, whenever I have remembered
to do so, I have referred to them as being present "habitually".
Sometimes Our Lord leaves such souls to their own nature, and when
that happens, all the poisonous things in the environs and
mansions of this castle seem to come together to avenge themselves
on them for the time during which they have not been able to have
them in their power.

It is true that this lasts only for a short time -- for a single
day, or a little longer, at the most -- and in the course of the
ensuing turmoil, which as a rule is the result of some chance
happening, it becomes clear what the soul is gaining from the good
Companion Who is with it. For the Lord gives it great
determination, so that it will on no account turn aside from His
service and from its own good resolutions. On the contrary, these
resolutions seem to increase, and so the soul will not make the
slightest move which may deflect it from its resolve. This, as I
say, happens rarely, but Our Lord's will is for the soul not to
forget what it is -- for one reason, so that it may always be
humble; for another, so that it may the better realize what it
owes to His Majesty and what a great favour it is receiving, and
may praise Him.

Do not, of course, for one moment imagine that, because these
souls have such vehement desires and are so determined not to
commit a single imperfection for anything in the world, they do
not in fact commit many imperfections, and even sins. Not
intentionally, it is true, for the Lord will give such persons
very special aid as to this: I am referring to venial sins, for
from mortal sins, as far as they know, they are free, though they
are not completely proof against them; and the thought that they
may commit some without knowing it will cause them no small agony.
It also distresses them to see so many souls being lost; and,
although on the one hand they have great hopes of not being among
them, yet, when they remember some whom the Scriptures describe as
having been favoured of the Lord -- like Solomon, who enjoyed such
converse with His Majesty245 -- they cannot, as I have said, but
be afraid. And let whichever of you feels surest of herself fear
most, for, says David, "Blessed is the man that feareth God."246
May His Majesty always protect us; let us beseech Him to do so,
that we may not offend Him; this is the greatest security that we
can have. May He be for ever praised. Amen.

It will be a good thing, sisters, if I tell you why it is that the
Lord grants so many favours in this world. Although you will have
learned this from the effects they produce, if you have observed
them, I will speak about it further here, so that none of you
shall think that He does it simply to give these souls pleasure.
That would be to make a great error. For His Majesty can do
nothing greater for us than grant us a life which is an imitation
of that lived by His Beloved Son. I feel certain, therefore, that
these favours are given us to strengthen our weakness, as I have
sometimes said here, so that we may be able to imitate Him in His
great sufferings.

We always find that those who walked closest to Christ Our Lord
were those who had to bear the greatest trials. Consider the
trials suffered by His glorious Mother and by the glorious
Apostles. How do you suppose Saint Paul could endure such terrible
trials? We can see in his life the effects of genuine visions and
of contemplation coming from Our Lord and not from human
imagination or from the deceit of the devil. Do you imagine that
he shut himself up with his visions so as to enjoy those Divine
favours and pursue no other occupation? You know very well that,
so far as we can learn, he took not a day's rest, nor can he have
rested by night, since it was then that he had to earn his
living247 I am very fond of the story of how, when Saint Peter was
fleeing from prison, Our Lord appeared to him and told him to go
back to Rome and be crucified. We never recite the Office on his
festival, in which this story is found, without my deriving a
special consolation from it.248 How did Saint Peter feel after
receiving this favour from the Lord? And what did he do? He went
straight to his death; and the Lord showed him no small mercy in
providing someone to kill him.

Oh, my sisters, how little one should think about resting, and how
little one should care about honours, and how far one ought to be
from wishing to be esteemed in the very least if the Lord makes
His special abode in the soul. For if the soul is much with Him,
as it is right it should be, it will very seldom think of itself;
its whole thought will be concentrated upon finding ways to please
Him and upon showing Him how it loves Him. This, my daughters, is
the aim of prayer: this is the purpose of the Spiritual Marriage,
of which are born good works and good works alone.

Such works, as I have told you, are the sign of every genuine
favour and of everything else that comes from God. It will profit
me a little if I am alone and deeply recollected, and make acts of
love to Our Lord and plan and promise to work wonders in His
service, and then, as soon as I leave my retreat and some occasion
presents itself, I do just the opposite. I was wrong when I said
it will profit me little, for anyone who is with God must profit
greatly, and, although after making these resolutions we may be
too weak to carry them out, His Majesty will sometimes grant us
grace to do so, even at great cost to ourselves, as often happens.
For, when He sees a very timorous soul, He sends it, much against
its own will, some very sore trial the bearing of which does it a
great deal of good; and later, when the soul becomes aware of
this, it loses its fear and offers itself to Him the more readily.
What I meant was that the profit is small by comparison with the
far greater profit which comes from conformity between our deeds
on the one hand and our resolutions and the words we use on the
other. Anyone who cannot achieve everything at once must progress
little by little. If she wishes to find help in prayer, she must
learn to subdue her own will and in these little nooks of ours
there will be very many occasions when you can do this.

Reflect carefully on this, for it is so important that I can
hardly lay too much stress on it. Fix your eyes on the Crucified
and nothing else will be of much importance to you. If His Majesty
revealed His love to us by doing and suffering such amazing
things, how can you expect to please Him by words alone? Do you
know when people really become spiritual? It is when they become
the slaves of God and are branded with His sign, which is the sign
of the Cross, in token that they have given Him their freedom.
Then He can sell them as slaves to the whole world, as He Himself
was sold, and if He does this He will be doing them no wrong but
showing them no slight favour. Unless they resolve to do this,
they need not expect to make great progress. For the foundation of
this whole edifice, as I have said, is humility, and, if you have
not true humility, the Lord will not wish it to reach any great
height: in fact, it is for your own good that it should not; if it
did, it would fall to the ground. Therefore, sisters, if you wish
to lay good foundations, each of you must try to be the least of
all, and the slave of God, and must seek a way and means to please
and serve all your companions. If you do that, it will be of more
value to you than to them and your foundation will be so firmly
laid that your Castle will not fall.

I repeat that if you have this in view you must not build upon
foundations of prayer and contemplation alone, for, unless you
strive after the virtues and practise them, you will never grow to
be more than dwarfs. God grant that nothing worse than this may
happen -- for, as you know, anyone who fails to go forward begins
to go back, and love, I believe, can never be content to stay for
long where it is.

You may think that I am speaking about beginners, and that later
on one may rest: but, as I have already told you, the only repose
that these souls enjoy is of an interior kind; of outward repose
they get less and less, and they have no wish to get more. What is
the purpose, do you suppose, of these inspirations -- or, more
correctly, of these aspirations -- which I have described, and of
these messages which are sent by the soul from its innermost
centre to the folk outside the Castle and to the Mansions which
are outside that in which it is itself dwelling? Is it to send
them to sleep? No, no, no. The soul, where it now is, is fighting
harder to keep the faculties and senses and every thing to do with
the body from being idle than it did when it suffered with them.
For it did not then understand what great gain can be derived from
trials, which may indeed have been means whereby God has brought
it to this state, nor did it realize how the companionship which
it now enjoys would give it much greater strength than it ever had
before. For if, as David says, with the holy we shall be holy,249
it cannot be doubted that, if we are made one with the Strong, we
shall gain strength through the most sovereign union of spirit
with Spirit, and we shall appreciate the strength of the saints
which enabled them to suffer and die.

It is quite certain that, with the strength it has gained, the
soul comes to the help of all who are in the Castle, and, indeed,
succours the body itself. Often the body appears to feel nothing,
but the strength derived from the vigour gained by the soul after
it has drunk of the wine from this cellar, where its Spouse has
brought it and which He will not allow it to leave, overflows into
the weak body, just as on the earthly plane the food which is
introduced into the stomach gives strength to the head and to the
whole body. In this life, then, the soul has a very bad time, for,
however much it accomplishes, it is strong enough inwardly to
attempt much more and this causes such strife within it that
nothing it can do seems to it of any importance. This must be the
reason for the great penances done by many saints, especially by
the glorious Magdalen, who had been brought up in such luxury all
her life long; there was also that hunger for the honour of his
God suffered by our father Elias;250 and the zeal of Saint Dominic
and Saint Francis for bringing souls to God, so that He might be
praised. I assure you that, forgetful as they were of themselves,
they must have endured no little suffering.

This, my sisters, I should like us to strive to attain: we should
desire and engage in prayer, not for our enjoyment, but for the
sake of acquiring this strength which fits us for service. Let us
not try to walk along an untrodden path, or at the best we shall
waste our time: it would certainly be a novel idea to think of
receiving these favours from God through any other means than
those used by Him and by all His saints. Let us not even consider
such a thing: believe me, Martha and Mary must work together when
they offer the Lord lodging, and must have Him ever with them, and
they must not entertain Him badly and give Him nothing to eat. And
how can Mary give Him anything, seated as she is at His feet,
unless her sister helps her? His food consists in our bringing Him
souls, in every possible way, so that they may be saved and may
praise Him for ever.

You will reply to me by making two observations. The first, that
Mary was said to have chosen the better part251 -- and she had
already done the work of Martha and shown her love for the Lord by
washing His feet and wiping them with her hair.252 And do you
think it would be a trifling mortification to a woman in her
position to go through those streets -- perhaps alone, for her
fervour was such that she cared nothing how she went -- to enter a
house that she had never entered before and then to have to put up
with uncharitable talk from the Pharisee253 and from very many
other people, all of which she was forced to endure? What a sight
it must have been in the town to see such a woman as she had been
making this change in her life! Such wicked people as we know the
Jews to have been would only need to see that she was friendly
with the Lord, Whom they so bitterly hated, to call to mind the
life which she had lived and to realize that she now wanted to
become holy, for she would of course at once have changed her
style of dress and everything else. Think how we gossip about
people far less notorious than she and then imagine what she must
have suffered. I assure you, sisters, that that better part came
to her only after sore trials and great mortification -- even to
see her Master so much hated must have been an intolerable trial
to her. And how many such trials did she not endure later, after
the Lord's death! I think myself that the reason she was not
granted martyrdom was that she had already undergone it through
witnessing the Lord's death.254 The later years of her life, too,
during which she was absent from Him, would have been years of
terrible torment; so she was not always enjoying the delights of
contemplation at the Lord's feet.

The other thing you may say is that you are unable to lead souls
to God, and have no means of doing so; that you would gladly do
this, but, being unable to teach and preach like the Apostles, you
do not know how. That is an objection which I have often answered
in writing, though I am not sure if I have done so in discussing
this Castle. But, as it is a thing which I think must occur to
you, in view of the desires which the Lord implants in you, I will
not omit to speak of it here. I told you elsewhere that the devil
sometimes puts ambitious desires into our hearts, so that, instead
of setting our hand to the work which lies nearest to us, and thus
serving Our Lord in ways within our power, we may rest content
with having desired the impossible. Apart from praying for people,
by which you can do a great deal for them, do not try to help
everybody, but limit yourselves to your own companions; your work
will then be all the more effective because you have the greater
obligation to do it. Do you imagine it is a small advantage that
you should have so much humility and mortification, and should be
the servants of all and show such great charity towards all, and
such fervent love for the Lord that it resembles a fire kindling
all their souls, while you constantly awaken their zeal by your
other virtues? This would indeed be a great service to the Lord
and one very pleasing to Him. By your doing things which you
really can do, His Majesty will know that you would like to do
many more, and thus He will reward you exactly as if you had won
many souls for Him.

"But we shall not be converting anyone," you will say, "for all
our sisters are good already." What has that to do with it? If
they become still better, their praises will be more pleasing to
the Lord, and their prayers of greater value to their neighbours.
In a word, my sisters, I will end by saying that we must not build
towers without foundations, and that the Lord does not look so
much at the magnitude of anything we do as at the love with which
we do it. If we accomplish what we can, His Majesty will see to it
that we become able to do more each day. We must not begin by
growing weary; but during the whole of this short life, which for
any one of you may be shorter than you think, we must offer the
Lord whatever interior and exterior sacrifice we are able to give
Him, and His Majesty will unite it with that which He offered to
the Father for us upon the Cross, so that it may have the value
won for it by our will, even though our actions in themselves may
be trivial.

May it please His Majesty, my sisters and daughters, to bring us
all to meet where we may praise Him and to give me grace to do
some of the things of which I have told you, through the merits of
His Son, Who liveth and reigneth for ever, Amen. As I say this to
you I am full of shame and by the same Lord I beg you not to
forget this poor miserable creature in your prayers.

JHS.

Although when I began to write what I have set down here it was
with great reluctance, as I said at the beginning, I am very glad
I did so now that it is finished, and I think my labour has been
well spent, though I confess it has cost me very little. And
considering how strictly you are cloistered, my sisters, how few
opportunities you have of recreation and how insufficient in
number are your houses, I think it will be a great consolation for
you, in some of your convents, to take your delight in this
Interior Castle, for you can enter it and walk about in it at any
time without asking leave from your superiors.

It is true that, however strong you may think yourselves, you
cannot enter all the Mansions by your own efforts: the Lord of the
Castle Himself must admit you to them. So, if you meet with any
resistance, I advise you not to make any effort to get in, for if
you do you will displease Him so much that He will never admit
you. He is a great Lover of humility. If you consider yourselves
unworthy of entering even the third Mansions, He will more quickly
give you the will to reach the fifth, and thenceforward you may
serve Him by going to these Mansions again and again, till He
brings you into the Mansion which He reserves as His own and which
you will never leave, except when you are called away by the
prioress, whose wishes this great Lord is pleased that you should
observe as if they were His own. And even if, at her command, you
are often outside these Mansions, He will always keep the door
open against your return. Once you have been shown how to enjoy
this Castle, you will find rest in everything, even in the things
which most try you, and you will cherish a hope of returning to it
which nobody can take from you.

Although I have spoken here only of seven Mansions, yet in each
there are comprised many more, both above and below and around,
with lovely gardens and fountains255 and things so delectable that
you will want to lose yourselves in praise of the great God Who
created it in His image and likeness. If you find anything good in
this book which helps you to learn to know Him better, you can be
quite sure that it is His Majesty Who has said it, and if you find
anything bad, that it has been said by me.

By the earnest desire that I have to be of some use in helping you
to serve this my God and Lord, I beg you, in my own name, whenever
you read this, to give great praise to His Majesty and beg Him to
multiply His Church and to give light to the Lutherans and to
pardon my sins and set me free from Purgatory, where perhaps, by
the mercy of God,256 I shall be when this is given you to read,
if, after being revised by learned men, it is ever published. And
if there is any error in it, that is due to my lack of
understanding, for in all things I submit to what is held by the
Holy Roman Catholic Church, in which I live, and protest and
promise that I will both live and die. Praised and blessed for
ever be God our Lord. Amen, Amen.

The writing of this was finished in the convent of Saint Joseph of
Avila, in the year one thousand five hundred and seventy seven, on
the vigil of Saint Andrew, to the glory of God, Who liveth and
reigneth for ever and ever. Amen.

ENDNOTES

1 [As has been said above, it is as Las Moradas ("The Mansions")
that this book is known in Spain.]

2 The letter [printed, in Spanish, by P. Silverio, II, 490-505] is
dated September 4, 1588. The anecdote is told more briefly in
Yepes' biography of St. Teresa, Bk. II, Chap. XX.

3 Cf. The Life of Teresa of Jesus, translated and edited by E.
Allison Peers; Image Books Edition, p. 62.

4 Cf. Relations, VI (Vol. I, The Complete Works of St. Teresa,
translated and edited by E. Allison Peers; Sheed and Ward, p.
334).

5 Dilucidario del verdadero esp�ritu, Chap. V.

6 [A fuller exposition, in English, will be found in S.S.M., I,
162-91.]

7 The titles are here given in the form in which they appear in
the editio princeps, which is practically identical with that of
the Toledo copy.

8 See p. 23, n. 1, below.

9 Cf. p. 264, below. Some critics write as if there were an
interruption of five months during the composition of the book,
but that is not what the passage says. Were it so, it would mean
that the book was written in about four weeks.

10 [Cit. P. Silverio, IV, xxxvi.]

11 Op. cit., IV, xxxvii.

12 Op. Cit., IV, xxxviii.

13 As a kind of sub-title St. Teresa wrote on the back of the
first page of the autograph: "This treatise, called 'Interior
Castle', was written by Teresa of Jesus, nun of Our Lady of Carmel
to her sisters and daughters the Discalced Carmelite nuns." Below
this is a note by P. Ribera (formerly attributed to Fray Luis de
Le�n) which asserts [somewhat verbosely, for which reason the full
text is not here translated] that the marginal emendations in the
autograph are often inconsistent with other parts of the text and
in any case are inferior to the author's own words, and begs
readers to respect "the words and letters written by that most
holy hand". [It is noteworthy that the word "mansions (moradas: n.
18, below), by which the book is generally known in Spain, does
not appear in the title or sub-title of the autograph, though it
occurs in the title of each of the seven sections of the book.]

14 Lit.: "literally."

15 June 2, 1577.

16 The words "Roman Catholic" are inserted by the author
interlineally.

17 [Aposentos -- a rather more pretentious word than the English
"room": dwellingplace, abode, apartment.]

18 [Moradas: derived from morar, to dwell, and not, therefore,
absolute identical in sense with "mansions". The reference,
however, is to St. John xiv, 2.]

19 Proverbs viii, 31.

20 Genesis i, 26.

21 Here the Saint erased several words and inserted others,
leaving the phrase as it is in the text.

22 [Moradas (see n. 18, above).]

23 St. John ix, 2.

24 Genesis xix, 26.

25 [Lit., "into such bestiality".] P. Graci�n deletes "bestiality"
and substitutes "abomination." [I think the translation in the
text, however, is a more successful way of expressing what was in
St. Teresa's mind: cf. St. John of the Cross's observations on
"animal penances"  -- penitencias de bestias -- in his Dark Night,
I, vi (Complete Works, I, 365-6.)]

26 P. Graci�n corrects this to "thirty-eight years." St. John v,
5.

27 St. Matthew vi, 21.

28 Psalm i, 3.

29 Lit.: "fruit", for which P. Graci�n substitutes "merit."

30 St. Teresa herself. See Relation XXIV (Vol. I, The Complete
Works of St. Teresa, translated and edited by E. Allison Peers, p.
345).

31 Psalm cxxvi, 2 [AV., cxxvii, 1].

32 The palmito is a shrub, common in the south and east of Spain,
with thick layers of leaves enclosing a succulent edible kernel.

33 [The autograph has, after the word "room", "Oh, but if it is
(Uh, que si es) in (the room of) self-knowledge!" Previous editors
have altered this difficult Spanish phrase to aunque sea, "not
even if it is." St. Teresa's meaning however, seems to me quite
clearly the opposite of this, though it is impossible to translate
her exclamation literally.]

34 [Lit.: "excess is as bad as defect."]

35 [Ratero: creeping, flying low, content with a low standard.]

36 Lit., "a million."

37 Lit: "and had earth on his eyes."

38 See Life, Chapter XIII and Method for the visitation of
convents.

39 Below this line St. Teresa wrote "Chapter," to which Luis de
Le�n prefixed the word "Only."

40 Life, Chaps. XI-XIII; Way of perfection, The Complete Works of
St. Teresa, Chaps. XX-XXIX.

41 [The word (guisar: "season", "dress") is a homely one: "dished
up" would hardly be too colloquial a translation.]

42 [St. Luke xv, 15-16].

43 Judges vii, 5. "With Gedeon in the Judges," adds P. Graci�n in
the margin, crossing out the words "I forget with whom".

44 Life, Chap. XI.

45 [Probably a conscious reference to St. Matthew vii, 26-7.]

46 St. Matthew xx, 22.

47 The autograph has, not casas ("homes") but cosas ("things").
Luis de Le�n, however, read casas and succeeding editors have
followed him.

48 St. John xx, 21.

49 Life, Chaps. XI, XIX.

50 Ecclesiasticus iii, 27.

51 St. John xiv, 6.

52 P. Graci�n crossed through the bracketed words and wrote in the
margin: "Both are said by St. John, Chapter xiv." [Actually the
words are: "No man cometh. . . ."]

53 St. John xiv, 9.

54 St. Matthew x, 24.

55 St. Matthew xxiv, 41.

56 Psalm cxi, 1 (A.V. cxii, 1).

57 St. John xi, 16. The last four words are a marginal addition of
the author's.

58 Graci�n adds "in Heaven"; the addition is deleted by Ribera.

59 Graci�n alters this to: "some who, although they are saints [a
more exact translation would be "are saintly"], yet fell," but
Ribera restores St. Teresa's reading.

60 Graci�n alters this to: "we have no certainty of abandoning
them and of doing, etc."

61 The bracketed words, which St. Teresa wrote in the margin of
the autograph, are crossed out with two strokes. But Ribera has
written underneath them: "This is not to be deleted."

62 [A striking example of St. Teresa's untranslatably concise
language. The original is: Recia obediencia ha sido! Lit.:
"Rigorous obedience (it) has been!"]

63 Graci�n altered this word to "Absalom" but Ribera wrote in the
margin: 'This should read 'Solomon', as the holy Mother said."

64 Psalm cxi, 1 (A.V., cxii, 1).

65 The autograph makes this sentence negative, but partially
deletes the negative particle. Luis de Le�n, followed by later
editors, omits it.

66 St. Matthew xix, 16-22.

67 The phrase "like . . . Gospel" was written by St. Teresa in the
margin. [No doubt she recalled the reference to St. Matthew xix,
16-22, which she had made just above.]

68 [Or this clause might mean: "yet a person who gives all that he
has thinks that he gives in fullest measure." But the
interpretation in the text seems preferable.]

69 [St. Luke xvii, 10.] Graci�n, in a note, gives the correct
authorship.

70 "For what He has suffered for us" was substituted for the
phrase by Graci�n but the original text was restored by Ribera.

71 Graci�n deleted the words "I write . . . truth" but Ribera
wrote in the margin: "Nothing is to be deleted, for what the Saint
says is well said."

72 [Lit.: "drove me silly" -- "me tra�an tonta": a typically
homely and forcible expression. Cf. n. 91, below.]

73 "Very easily," added Graci�n, interlinearly, but the addition
is crossed out.

74 St. Luke xxii, 42.

75 [Lit.: "the Surgeon".]

76 [The Spanish phrase means, literally, "anyone of their humour",
but there is no such "saying" as this in English.]

77 Cf. St. Teresa's definition of supernatural prayer in Relation
V (Vol. I, p. 327).

78 From the outline of St. Teresa's life, Image Books Edition,
(Vol. 1, pp. 27-37), it will be seen that this computation is
approximately correct. The reference is to Life, Chaps. XI-XXVII.

79 [The word is the same as is used above for "sweetness" -- i.e.,
contentos, but in the singular. Such word-play, as we have seen,
is common in St. Teresa: in the title of this very chapter we have
an identical play on contentos ("sweetness") and contento
("happiness").]

80 [contentos.]

81 [contento.]

82 [contentos.]

83 [Psalm cxviii, 32: "(I have run the way of thy commandments,)
when thou didst enlarge my heart". A.V. cxix, 32.]

84 [contento.]

85 The remainder of this paragraph was scored through in the
autograph by Graci�n and are omitted from the C�rdoba copy. They
are, however, quite legible.

86 [Lit.: "from how the disposition is."]

87 Life, Chap. XII.

88 The words in brackets were written in the margin by St. Teresa
and lightly scored out. Ribera, however, adds: "Nothing to be
deleted." Graci�n has added, interlineally, after "imagination":
"for so we women generally call it."

89 [tan tortolito, an expressive phrase: "so like a little t�rtola
(turtle-dove)" -- i.e. not only timid, but irresolute and
apparently stupid, like an inexperienced fledgling.]

90 [Here there is a play on words difficult to render in English:
the word translated both "restrain" and "uniting" is atar --
"tie", "bind."]

91 [Tra�ame tonta. Cf. n. 72, above.]

92 Graci�n scores out this sentence in the autograph.

93 Canticles viii, 1. Graci�n has copied in the margin of the
autograph the Spanish text of Canticles viii, 1-4.

94 [The original is quite colloquial: "in the mess I have got
into" or "in what I have let myself in for" would be nearer its
spirit.]

95 Psalm cxviii, 32 (A.V., cxix, 32). Cf. n. 83, above.

96 Again, as above (n. 78), the Saint's computation is exactly
correct.

97 [A very strong word, estrujarse. In its non-reflexive form, the
verb means to squeeze, crush or press hard, or to extract
something by so doing. The sense is, therefore, that with all our
efforts we cannot squeeze out a drop of this water.]

98 Life, Chap. XVI; Way of perfection, Chaps. XXVIII, XXIX;
Relations, V.

99 There is little doubt that St. Teresa is here using Bk. IX,
Chap. VII of Francisco de Osuna's Third Spiritual Alphabet.

100 Confessions, Bk. X, Chap. XXVII [or Soliloquies, Chap. XXXI:
cf. St. John of the Cross: II, 33, 196, n. 9.]

101 [Lit.: "conscious of a gentle interior shrinking":
encogimiento, the noun used, means "shrinkage", "contraction"; it
should be distinguished from recogimiento, a word often used by
St. Teresa and translated "recollection".]

102 Osuna (op. cit., Bk. VI, Chap. IV) uses this simile of the
hedgehog in much the same way.

103 The reference is presumably to the famous "Eighth Counsel" of
the Treatise of Prayer and Meditation [Cf. S.S.M., II, 113-14].

104 "With his human skill", adds Graci�n, interlinearly.

105 Way of perfection, Chap. XXXI.

106 St. Teresa had written "to discuss the effects of"' but
deleted the last three words.

107 [The two Spanish words, on which St. Teresa plays so
trenchantly, are added to their English equivalents so as to make
the phrase intelligible.]

108 Graci�n has scored through part of this sentence in the
autograph.

109 St. Matthew xx, 16.

110 Graci�n substitutes for "are": "follow the rule of being."

111 Graci�n inserts the word "perhaps".

112 Luis de Le�n modifies this passage [which has been slightly
paraphrased in translation, the construction in the Spanish being
rather obscure], reading, after "delight": "for, although it [the
soul] is in Him, according to the truth, it appears to have
withdrawn so far from the body, in order to come closer to God,
that I do not know, etc."

113 "Of the soul alone", inserts Graci�n, interlineally.

114 Graci�n deletes "the essence of".

115 Graci�n substitutes "understanding" for "thoughts" and adds a
marginal note: "This is (to be) understood of acts of the
understanding and the will, for the thoughts of the imagination
are clearly seen by the devil unless God blinds him in that
respect." Luis de Le�n included the marginal note in the text of
his edition but Graci�n did not reproduce it in either the text or
the margin of the C�rdoba copy though he altered "thoughts" to
"understanding".

116 Graci�n inserts the word "nature" here, interlineally.

117 [P. Silverio refers here to Way of perfection, Chap. XXXI, but
I hardly think this can be meant. Perhaps the author's allusion is
to the first chapter of the Fourth Mansions or possibly to
something she once said viva voce.]

118 [Lit.: "a something": the Spanish is un no se que, an
expression corresponding to the French un je ne sais quoi.]

119 Graci�n alters "as" to "as being, I think".

120 Graci�n inserts: "it thinks."

121 Graci�n amends the following phrase to read: "but that there
has since remained with it, as it thinks, a certainty, etc."

122 Graci�n alters this phrase to: "which made her understand this
in such a way."

123 St. Teresa refers to this experience of hers in Life, Chap.
XVIII (Image Books Edition, p. 180). Later, a favour which she
received (Relations, LIV: Vol. I, p. 361.) enlightened her further
on this point. According to Yepes (II, xx) she asked him for
theological guidance about it just before she began the Interior
Castle.

124 The rest of this paragraph was omitted by Luis de Le�n.

125 Canticles i, 3; ii, 4. Graci�n deletes the bracketed phrase
but writes "put" above "brought".

126 Canticles iii, 2.

127 Here and just below Graci�n has crossed out the word "centre".

128 St. John xx, 19.

129 "Mustard-seeds," writes Graci�n, interlineally, deleting the
bracketed sentence which follows and adding the words: "It is so,
for I have seen it."

130 Colossians iii, 3. Graci�n deletes "for that . . . my purpose"
and supplies text and source in the margin.

131 [Lit.: "Whether this be so or not." But the meaning is clear
from the context.]

132 The words "I meant . . . at all" are omitted from the editio
princeps.

133 A characteristically emphatic phrase -- en fin, fin.

134 [Cf. Ch. 1, above. The reference here is clearly to Canticles
ii, 4.]

135 St. Luke xxii, 15.

136 St. Teresa herself.

137 St. Teresa herself. Cf. Life, Chap. VII (Image Books Edition,
p. 105).

138 [The phrase is very emphatic: Harto provecho, harto --
"exceedingly great profit, exceedingly."]

139 St. John xi, 35.

140 St. Teresa added here the word acull�, "yonder", which Luis de
Le�n altered to en lo susodicho, "in what is (said) above". [This
affects the sense: Luis de Le�n's alteration suggests that the
silkworm is referred to, which seems to me unlikely. I take acull�
to refer to the end of one's life and ac� to mean "here and now".]

141 [Lit.: "to kill it ourselves." By "it", which in the Spanish
can only stand for "life", is presumably meant the Pauline "old
man".]

142 Jonas iv, 6-7 [The "gourd" of A.V.]

143 St. John xvii, 22.

144 [Encapotadas: lit., covering their faces with a cloak, muffled
up. Metaphorically, the word can mean "frowning", "sullen". Here a
less reprehensible meaning seems indicated.]

145 Cf. Way of perfection, Chap. VII.

146 The words "in . . . souls" were written by St. Teresa
interlineally and "because . . . repose" were added by her in the
margin.

147[Vengan a vistas: lit., "have sight of each other", "have an
interview with each other"; and, in that sense, "come together" or
"meet".]

148 [This sounds contradictory, but the word "take" (tomar each
time in the Spanish) is of course used in two different senses.]

149 No fue m�s de una vista. [Cf. n. 147, above.]

150 Luis de Le�n omitted the reference to St. Ignatius of Loyola
and the Society of Jesus from his edition, reading: "and other
founders of Orders, all of whom, as we read, etc."

151 Graci�n deletes, and Le�n omits, the words "and the Holy
Spirit".

152 [St. Teresa is not always consistent in her use of singular
and plural in referring to each stage of the Mystic Way. The
translation, throughout, follows her here exactly.]

153 St. Teresa herself: cf. Life, Chap. XXVIII.

154 The person referred to is no doubt the author. [It was almost
exactly forty years since she had professed at the Incarnation.]

155 [Lit.: "for many days"; but, as we have already seen, St.
Teresa often uses that phrase vaguely.]

156 At this point in the autograph, St. Teresa wrote the word
"Chapter", evidently intending to end the first chapter of the
Sixth Mansions here, but deleted it again. Luis de Le�n treated
the insertion as valid and began the new chapter with the
following paragraph: he was followed by other editors until the
mid-nineteenth century. The autograph, however, does not support
this procedure.

157 The author had first written: "or a lightning-flash. Although
no light is seen"; but she deleted this and substituted the phrase
in the text.

158 [The verb used is deshacerse, "to undo oneself", implying here
the utmost effort.]

159 A. Francisco de Santo Tom�s, O.C.D., in his Medula mystica
(Trat. VI, Cap. i), has a succinct description of the three types
of locution referred to by St. Teresa, a classification applicable
to visions also: "Some are corporeal, some imaginary and some
spiritual or intellectual. Corporeal locutions are those actually
heard by the physical powers of hearing. . . . Imaginary locutions
are not heard in that way but the impression apprehended and
received by the imaginative faculty is the same as though they had
been. . . . In spiritual or intellectual locutions God imprints
what He is about to say in the depth of the spirit: there is no
sound, or voice, or either corporeal or imaginary representation
of such, but an expression of (certain) concepts in the depth of
the spirit and in the faculty of the understanding, and as this is
not corporeal, but spiritual, the species, or similitudes, under
which it is apprehended are not corporeal, but spiritual."
Intellectual locutions, as explained by St. John of the Cross
(Ascent of Mount Carmel, Book II, Chaps. XXVI-XXX), are of three
kinds: successive, formal and substantial.

160 [St. Luke xxiv, 36.]

161 Jonas iv.

162 Josue x, 12-13.

163 [The original here interpolates two clauses, con cuanto veis,
u que nos est� bien, which, translated literally as "with all that
you see or that it is acceptable to us", make no sense. I suspect
that, if St. Teresa had re-read her work, the phrase would have
been omitted or clarified. Freely it might be rendered: "wonderful
as you see it to be and much as we appreciate it", or, "however
many visions you see or however much we desire them", but I am not
convinced that either of these translations represents the
author's meaning and other paraphrases are admissible.]

164 Life, Chap. XX; Relations, V.

165 The phrase "assuming . . . teaches" was added by St. Teresa,
in the autograph, as a marginal note.

166 Genesis xxviii, 12.

167 Exodus iii, 2.

168 "Two days" adds the editio princeps. The visit was made at the
beginning of 1574: see "Outline, etc.", Vol. I, p. xxxi, above.

169 The sentence "I can . . . whole" was written by St. Teresa in
the margin of the autograph.

170 [Or "some": the Spanish word, alguna, can have either a
singular or a plural sense.]

171 [The "streets and the broad ways" of Canticles iii, 2.]

172 St. John ix, 6-7.

173 Cf. Life, Chap. XXXI [Image Books Edition, 292].

174 This is Luis de Le�n's emendation of the sentence in the
autograph, which reads: "I do not use the word 'feigned', because
those who experience them do not wish to deceive, but because
[sic] they are deceived themselves." Graci�n, in the C�rdoba copy,
emends similarly, though not identically. Both evidently express
what St. Teresa meant but failed to put clearly.

175 The mystics concur with St. Thomas in holding that ecstasy,
rapture, transport, flight of the spirit, etc., are in substance
one and the same, though there are accidental differences between
them, as St. Teresa explains here, in Life, Chap. XX, and in
Relations, V.

176 IV, chapter ii.

177 St. Luke xii, 28.

178 St. Teresa received this favour at Seville about 1575-6. Cf.
Relations, LI (Vol. I, The Complete Works of St. Teresa, p. 360.)

179 Numbers xiii, 18-24.

180 [Los trabajos de este camino tan trabajoso: the word-play is
intentional.]

181 [Vistas. Cf. n. 147, above.]

182 Exodus xiv, 21-2; Josue iii, 13.

183 In the office of this Saint the Church recalls these words of
his: "Lord, if I am still necessary to Thy people, I do not refuse
toil: Thy will be done."

184 [Cf. Life, Chap. XVIII: Image Books Edition, p. 168].

185 St. Luke xv, 11-32.

186 Life, Chap. XXII.

187 Life, Chaps. XXII-XXIV.

188 St. John xiv, 6.

189 The words "the Lord . . . light" [which clearly interrupt the
thought of the passage] are in the author's hand, but are
marginal.

190 St. John xiv, 6.

191 St. John xiv, 9.

192 [I.e., the understanding.]

193 3 Kings [A.V., 1 Kings] xviii, 30-9.

194 Canticles iii, 3.

195 "Or Confessions" is a marginal addition in St. Teresa's hand.
The passage alluded to comes from Chapter XXXI of the Soliloquies,
a work first published in Spanish at Venice in 1512 and often
reprinted in Spain during the sixteenth century. A passage very
similar to this will be found in the Confessions, Bk. X, Chap. VI.

196 Foundations, Chap. VI.

197 St. John xvi, 7.

198 For St. Teresa's treatment of intellectual vision, see Life,
Chaps. XXVII, XXVIII.

199 [Cf. Life, Chap. XXVII.]

200 Ibid.

201 St. Matthew xxv, 41. [The abrupt change of pronoun is
reproduced exactly from the Spanish.]

202 [This characteristic example of St. Teresa's word-play is
allowed to stand in translation, though to English ears it may
sound artificial. See Introduction, Life; Image Books Edition, pp.
20-21].

203 [Dar higas. Cf. note on this phrase, The Life of Teresa of
Avila, trans. and edited, by E. Allison Peers; Image Books
Edition, p. 243, n: 9. The theologian referred to was P. B��ez:
cf. Life, Chap. XXIX, Foundations, Chap. VIII.]

204 Psalm cxv, 11 [: "I said in my excess: 'Every man as a liar,'"
Cf. A.V., Psalm cxvi. 11.]

205 St. John xvii, 38.

206 St. John iv, 7-13.

207 The words of the parenthesis were inserted by St. Teresa in
the margin of the autograph.

208 Cf. Relations XV. [The Complete Works of St. Teresa Vol. I.,
p. 340. This incident took place at Salamanca in 1571. The singer
was M. Isabel de Jes�s. The song begins:

Let mine eyes behold Thee,
Sweetest Jesu, nigh;
Let mine eyes behold Thee,
And at once I'll die.

[It has no verbal reference, as our text suggests, to "life not
ending", but this is its general theme, as it is also that of
several poems by St. Teresa herself.]

209[Lit.: "and is dying in order to die" -- a reference, no doubt,
to the poem to be found in Vol. III, The Complete Works of St.
Teresa, pp. 277-9].

210 St. Matthew xx, 22: "'Can you drink the chalice that I shall
drink?' They say to Him: 'We can."'

211 St. Luke vii, 44.

212 Graci�n altered "capable" to "prepared".

213 "To win merit" is the Saint's marginal addition.

214 This paragraph was considerably altered in the editio
princeps.

215 Acts ix, 8.

216 [Acts ix, 18.]

217 Graci�n reads: "vision or knowledge, born of faith."

218 Luis de Le�n added the following note here: "Though man in
this life, if so raised by God, may lose the use of his senses and
have a fleeting glimpse of the Divine Essence, as was probably the
case with St. Paul and Moses and certain others, the Mother is not
speaking here of this kind of vision, which, though fleeting, is
intuitive and clear, but of a knowledge of this mystery which God
gives to certain souls, through a most powerful light which He
infuses into them, not without created species. But as this
species is not corporeal, nor figured in the imagination, the
Mother says that this vision is intellectual and not imaginary.

219 Graci�n reads: "grasp better, it seems."

220 Graci�n reads: "either of the body (for God is Spirit) or of
the imagination.

221 St. John xiv, 23.

222 Graci�n adds: "as they are commonly believed and heard."

223 St. Luke x, 40.

224 Cf. Relations, XXXV (Vol. I, The Complete Works of St. Teresa,
pp. 351-2.)

225 The words "but through an intellectual" and "although . . .
mentioned" are substituted by St. Teresa for others which she has
deleted.

226 St. John xx, 19, 21.

227 1 Corinthians vi, 17. [The Spanish has two verbs, arrimarse
and allegarse, corresponding to "joined", and linked by the word
"and". The Scriptural text reads: "He who is joined to the Lord is
one spirit."] The whole of the passage "He who . . . by union" is
St. Teresa's interlinear substitution for something deleted.

228 Philippians i, 21: "For to me, to live is Christ; and to die
is gain."

229 [Lit.: "that they cannot."] The words "that what . . .
doubted" are scored through in the original -- we suspect by
Graci�n.

230 St. John xx, 19, 21 [Cf. p. 214, n. 226, above.]

231 St. Luke vi, 50.

232 Graci�n deletes the bracketed words and substitutes the
Scriptural test, giving its source (St. John xvii, 21) in the
margin.

233 St. John xvii, 20.

234 St. John xvii, 23.

235 [Cf. St. Teresa's poem on this theme, Vol. III, The Complete
Words of St. Teresa, pp. 287-8.]

236 Psalm i, 3.

237 [Cf. VII, n. 224, above;] Relations, XXXV (Vol. I, The
Complete Works of St. Teresa, p. 352).

238 In the margin of the autograph St. Teresa wrote at this point:
"Cuando dice aqu�: os pide, lease luego este papel." ["When you
get to the words asking of you in it, go straight on to this
paper."] "This paper" is no longer extant, but Luis de Le�n
evidently had it, as the rest of this paragraph, though not in the
autograph, figures in his edition. It is also found, with slight
modifications, in early copies.

239 Acts ix, 6.

240 The bracketed phrase is St. Teresa's marginal addition.

241 Luis de Le�n modifies this paragraph thus. After "save very
occasionally" he adds, in parenthesis: "that is, as I say here,
with respect to these exterior epoch of the suspension of the
senses and loss of heat; but they tell me that only the accidents
disappear and that interiorly there is rather an increase." He
then continues: "So the raptures, in the way I describe, cease,
and it [the soul] has not these raptures and Bights of the spirit;
or, if it has them, only rarely, and hardly ever in public as it
very often had before."

242 Apocalypse xxi, 3.

243 Genesis viii, 8, 9.

244 St. Luke xviii, 13.

245 3 Kings [A.V. 1 Kings] xi.

246 Psalm cxi [A.V., cxii], 1.

247 1 Thessalonians ii, 9.

248 In the old Carmelite Breviary, which St. Teresa would have
used, the Antiphon of the Magnificat at First Vespers on June 29
runs: "The Blessed Apostle Peter saw Christ coming to meet him.
Adoring Him, he said: 'Lord, whither goest Thou?' 'I am going to
Rome to be crucified afresh.'" The story has it that St. Peter
returned to Rome and was crucified.

249 Psalm xvii (A.V. xviii), 26.

250 3 Kings [A.V. 1 Kings] xix, 10.

251 St. Luke x, 42.

252 St. Luke vii, 37-8.

253 St. Luke vii, 39.

254  This sentence is authentic but marginal.

255 "And mazes", adds Luis de Le�n. The words also occur in
several copies of the autograph, including that of Toledo, but not
in the autograph itself. There is reason to suppose, however, that
there may have been two autographs of this epilogue.

256 "By the mercy of God" is the Saint's marginal addition.

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