The Effects of This Fourth State of Prayer. Earnest Exhortations
to Those Who Have Attained to It Not to Go Back, Nor to Cease
from Prayer, Even if They Fall. The Great Calamity of
Going Back.
1. There remains in the soul, when the prayer of union is over,
an exceedingly great tenderness; so much so, that it would undo
itself--not from pain, but through tears of joy it finds itself
bathed therein, without being aware of it, and it knows not how
or when it wept them. But to behold the violence of the fire
subdued by the water, which yet makes it burn the more, gives it
great delight. It seems as if I were speaking an unknown
language. So it is, however.
2. It has happened to me occasionally, when this prayer was over,
to be so beside myself as not to know whether I had been
dreaming, or whether the bliss I felt had really been mine; and,
on finding myself in a flood of tears--which had painlessly
flowed, with such violence and rapidity that it seemed as if a
cloud from heaven [1] had shed them--to perceive that it was no
dream. Thus it was with me in the beginning, when it passed
quickly away. The soul remains possessed of so much courage,
that if it were now hewn in pieces for God, it would be a great
consolation to it. This is the time of resolutions, of heroic
determinations, of the living energy of good desires, of the
beginning of hatred of the world, and of the most clear
perception of its vanity. The soul makes greater and higher
progress than it ever made before in the previous states of
prayer; and grows in humility more and more, because it sees
clearly that neither for obtaining nor for retaining this grace,
great beyond all measure, has it ever done, or ever been able to
do, anything of itself. It looks upon itself as most
unworthy--for in a room into which the sunlight enters strongly,
not a cobweb can be hid; it sees its own misery; self-conceit is
so far away, that it seems as if it never could have had any--for
now its own eyes behold how very little it could ever do, or
rather, that it never did anything, that it hardly gave even its
own consent, but that it rather seemed as if the doors of the
senses were closed against its will in order that it might have
more abundantly the fruition of our Lord. It is abiding alone
with Him: what has it to do but to love Him? It neither sees nor
hears, unless on compulsion: no thanks to it. Its past life
stands before it then, together with the great mercy of God, in
great distinctness; and it is not necessary for it to go forth to
hunt with the understanding, because what it has to eat and
ruminate upon, it sees now ready prepared. It sees, so far as
itself is concerned, that it has deserved hell, and that its
punishment is bliss. It undoes itself in the praises of God, and
I would gladly undo myself now.
3. Blessed be Thou, O my Lord, who, out of a pool so filthy as I
am, bringest forth water so clean as to be meet for Thy table!
Praised be Thou, O Joy of the Angels, who hast been thus pleased
to exalt so vile a worm!
4. The good effects of this prayer abide in the soul for some
time. Now that it clearly apprehends that the fruit is not its
own, the soul can begin to share it with others, and that without
any loss to itself. It begins to show signs of its being a soul
that is guarding the treasures of heaven, and to be desirous of
communicating them to others, [2] and to pray to God that itself
may not be the only soul that is rich in them. It begins to
benefit its neighbours, as it were, without being aware of it, or
doing anything consciously: its neighbours understand the matter,
because the odour of the flowers has grown so strong as to make
them eager to approach them. They understand that this soul is
full of virtue: they see the fruit, how delicious it is, and they
wish to help that soul to eat it.
5. If this ground be well dug by troubles, by persecutions,
detractions, and infirmities,--they are few who ascend so high
without this,--if it be well broken up by great detachment from
all self-interest, it will drink in so much water that it can
hardly ever be parched again. But if it be ground which is mere
waste, and covered with thorns (as I was when I began); if the
occasions of sin be not avoided; if it be an ungrateful soil,
unfitted for so great a grace,--it will be parched up again.
If the gardener become careless,--and if our Lord, out of His
mere goodness, will not send down rain upon it,--the garden is
ruined. Thus has it been with me more than once, so that I am
amazed at it; and if I had not found it so by experience, I could
not have believed it.
6. I write this for the comfort of souls which are weak, as I am,
that they may never despair, nor cease to trust in the power of
God; even if they should fall after our Lord has raised them to
so high a degree of prayer as this is, they must not be
discouraged, unless they would lose themselves utterly.
Tears gain everything, and one drop of water attracts another.
7. One of the reasons that move me, who am what I am, under
obedience to write this, and give an account of my wretched life,
and of the graces our Lord has wrought in me,--though I never
served Him, but offended Him rather,--is what I have just given:
and, certainly, I wish I was a person of great authority, that
people might believe what I say. I pray to our Lord that His
Majesty would be pleased to grant me this grace. I repeat it,
let no one who has begun to give himself to prayer be
discouraged, and say: If I fall into sin, it will be worse for me
if I go on now with the practice of prayer. I think so too, if
he gives up prayer, and does not correct his evil ways; but if he
does not give up prayer, let him be assured of this--prayer will
bring him to the haven of light.
8. In this the devil turned his batteries against me, and I
suffered so much because I thought it showed but little humility
if I persevered in prayer when I was so wicked, that--as I have
already said [3]--I gave it up for a year and a half--at least,
for a year, but I do not remember distinctly the other six
months. This could not have been, neither was it, anything else
but to throw myself down into hell; there was no need of any
devils to drag me thither. O my God, was there ever blindness so
great as this? How well Satan prepares his measures for his
purpose, when he pursues us in this way! The traitor knows that
he has already lost that soul which perseveres in prayer, and
that every fall which he can bring about helps it, by the
goodness of God, to make greater progress in His service.
Satan has some interest in this.
9. O my Jesus, what a sight that must be--a soul so highly
exalted falling into sin, and raised up again by Thee; who, in
Thy mercy, stretchest forth Thine hand to save! How such a soul
confesses Thy greatness and compassion and its own wretchedness!
It really looks on itself as nothingness, and confesses Thy
power. It dares not lift up its eyes; it raises them, indeed,
but it is to acknowledge how much it oweth unto Thee. It becomes
devout to the Queen of Heaven, that she may propitiate Thee; it
invokes the Saints, who fell after Thou hadst called them, for
succour. Thou seemest now to be too bountiful in Thy gifts,
because it feels itself to be unworthy of the earth it treads on.
It has recourse to the Sacraments, to a quickened faith, which
abides in it at the contemplation of the power which Thou hast
lodged in them. It praises Thee because Thou hast left us such
medicines and ointment for our wounds, which not only heal them
on the surface, but remove all traces whatever of them.
10. The soul is amazed at it. Who is there, O Lord of my soul,
that is not amazed at compassion so great and mercy so
surpassing, after treason so foul and so hateful? I know not how
it is that my heart does not break when I write this, for I am
wicked. With these scanty tears which I am now weeping, but yet
Thy gift,--water out of a well, so far as it is mine, so
impure,--I seem to make Thee some recompense for treachery so
great as mine, in that I was always doing evil, labouring to make
void the graces Thou hast given me. Do Thou, O Lord, make my
tears available; purify the water which is so muddy; at least,
let me not be to others a temptation to rash judgments, as I have
been to myself, when I used to think such thoughts as these.
Why, O Lord, dost Thou pass by most holy persons, who have always
served Thee, and who have been tried; who have been brought up in
religion, and are really religious--not such as I am, having only
the name--so as to make it plain that they are not recipients of
those graces which Thou hast bestowed upon me?
11. I see clearly now, O Thou my Good, Thou hast kept the reward
to give it them all at once: my weakness has need of these
succours. They, being strong, serve Thee without them, and Thou
dealest with them as with a strong race, free from all
self-interest. But yet Thou knowest, O my Lord, that I have
often cried unto Thee, making excuses for those who murmured
against me; for I thought they had reason on their side. This I
did then when Thou of Thy goodness hadst kept me back from
offending Thee so much, and when I was departing from everything
which I thought displeasing unto Thee. It was when I did this
that Thou, O Lord, didst begin to lay open Thy treasures for Thy
servant. It seemed as if Thou wert looking for nothing else but
that I should be willing and ready to receive them; accordingly,
Thou didst begin at once, not only to give them, but also to make
others know that Thou wert giving them.
12. When this was known, there began to prevail a good opinion of
her, of whom all had not yet clearly understood how wicked she
was, though much of that wickedness was plain enough. Calumny and
persecution began at once, and, as I think, with good reason; so
I looked on none of them as an enemy, but made my supplications
to Thee, imploring Thee to consider the grounds they had.
They said that I wished to be a saint, and that I invented
novelties; but I had not then attained in many things even to the
observance of my rule; nor had I come near those excellent and
holy nuns who were in the house,--and I do not believe I ever
shall, if God of His goodness will not do that for me Himself; on
the contrary, I was there only to do away with what was good, and
introduce customs which were not good; at least, I did what I
could to bring them in, and I was very powerful for evil.
Thus it was that they were blameless, when they blamed me. I do
not mean the nuns only, but the others as well: they told me
truths; for it was Thy will.
13. I was once saying the Office,--I had had this temptation for
some time,--and when I came to these words, "Justus es, Domine,
et rectum judicium tuum," [4] I began to think what a deep truth
it was. Satan never was strong enough to tempt me in any way to
doubt of Thy goodness, or of any article of the faith: on the
contrary, it seems to me that the more these truths were above
nature, the more firmly I held them, and my devotion grew; when I
thought of Thy omnipotence, I accepted all Thy wonderful works,
and I say it again, I never had a doubt. Then, as I was thinking
how it could be just in Thee to allow so many, who, as I said,
are Thy most faithful servants, to remain without those
consolations and graces which Thou hast given to me, who am what
I am, Thou, O my Lord, didst answer me: Serve thou Me, and meddle
not with this.
14. This was the first word which I ever heard Thee speak to me,
and it made me greatly afraid. But as I shall speak
hereafter [5] of this way of hearing, and of other matters, I say
nothing here; for to do so would be to digress from my subject,
and I have already made digressions enough. I scarcely know what
I have said, nor can it be otherwise; but you, my father, must
bear with these interruptions; for when I consider what God must
have borne with from me, and when I see the state I am in, it is
not strange that I should wander in what I am saying, and what I
have still to say.
15. May it please our Lord that my wanderings may be of this
kind, and may His Majesty never suffer me to have strength to
resist Him even in the least; yea, rather than that, may He
destroy me this moment. It is evidence enough of His great
compassions, that He has forgiven so much ingratitude, not once,
but often. He forgave St. Peter once; but I have been forgiven
many times. Satan had good reasons for tempting me: I ought
never to have pretended to a strict friendship with One, my
hatred of whom I made so public. Was there ever blindness so
great as mine? Where could I think I should find help but in
Thee? What folly to run away from the light, to be for ever
stumbling! What a proud humility was that which Satan devised
for me, when I ceased to lean upon the pillar, and threw the
staff away which supported me, in order that my fall might not
be great! [6]
16. I make the sign of the cross this moment. I do not think I
ever escaped so great a danger as this device of Satan, which he
would have imposed upon me in the disguise of humility. [7]
He filled me with such thoughts as these: How could I make my
prayer, who was so wicked, and yet had received so many mercies?
It was enough for me to recite the Office, as all others did; but
as I did not that much well, how could I desire to do more?
I was not reverential enough, and made too little of the mercies
of God. There was no harm in these thoughts and feelings in
themselves; but to act upon them, that was an exceedingly great
wickedness. Blessed be Thou, O Lord; for Thou camest to my help.
This seems to me to be in principle the temptation of Judas, only
that Satan did not dare to tempt me so openly. But he might have
led me by little and little, as he led Judas, to the same pit
of destruction.
17. Let all those who give themselves to prayer, for the love of
God, look well to this. They should know that when I was
neglecting it, my life was much worse than it had ever been; let
them reflect on the excellent help and the pleasant humility
which Satan provided for me: it was a grave interior disquietude.
But how could my spirit be quiet? It was going away in its
misery from its true rest. I remembered the graces and mercies I
had received, and felt that the joys of this world were
loathsome. I am astonished that I was able to bear it. It must
have been the hope I had; for, as well as I can remember now, it
is more than twenty-one years ago. I do not think I ever gave up
my purpose of resuming my prayer; but I was waiting to be very
free from sin first.
18. Oh, how deluded I was in this expectation! The devil would
have held it out before me till the day of judgment, that he
might then take me with him to hell. Then, when I applied myself
to prayer and to spiritual reading,--whereby I might perceive
these truths, and the evil nature of the way I was walking in,
and was often importunate with our Lord in tears,--I was so
wicked, that it availed me nothing; when I gave that up, and
wasted my time in amusing myself, in great danger of falling into
sin, and with scanty helps,--and I may venture to say no help at
all, unless it was a help to my ruin,--what could I expect but
that of which I have spoken?
19. I believe that a certain Dominican friar, a most learned man,
has greatly merited in the eyes of God; for it was he who roused
me from this slumber. He made me--I think I said so
before [8]--go to Communion once a fortnight, and be less given
to evil; I began to be converted, though I did not cease to
offend our Lord all at once: however, as I had not lost my way, I
walked on in it, though slowly, falling and rising again; and he
who does not cease to walk and press onwards, arrives at last,
even if late. To lose one's way is--so it seems to me--nothing
else but the giving up of prayer. God, of His mercy, keeps us
from this!
20. It is clear from this,--and, for the love of God, consider it
well,--that a soul, though it may receive great graces from God
in prayer, must never rely on itself, because it may fall, nor
expose itself in any way whatever to any risks of sin. This
should be well considered because much depends on it; for the
delusion here, wherein Satan is able to entangle us afterwards,
though the grace be really from God, lies in the traitor's making
use of that very grace, so far as he can, for his own purpose,
and particularly against persons not grown strong in virtues, who
are neither mortified nor detached; for these are not at present
strong enough--as I shall explain hereafter [9]--to expose
themselves to dangerous occasions, notwithstanding the noble
desires and resolutions they may have.
21. This doctrine is excellent, and not mine, but the teaching of
God, and accordingly I wish ignorant people like myself knew it;
for even if a soul were in this state, it must not rely so much
upon itself as to go forth to the battle, because it will have
enough to do in defending itself. Defensive armour is the
present necessity; the soul is not yet strong enough to assail
Satan, and to trample him under foot, as those are who are in the
state of which I shall speak further on. [10]
22. This is the delusion by which Satan prevails: when a soul
sees itself so near unto God, when it sees the difference there
is between the things of heaven and those of earth, and when it
sees the love which our Lord bears it, there grows out of that
love a certain trust and confidence that there is to be no
falling away from that the fruition of which it then possesses.
It seems to see the reward distinctly, as if it were impossible
for it to abandon that which, even in this life, is so delicious
and sweet, for anything so mean and impure as worldly joy.
Through this confidence, Satan robs it of that distrust which it
ought to have in itself; and so, as I have just said, [11] the
soul exposes itself to dangers, and begins, in the fulness of its
zeal, to give away without discretion the fruit of its garden,
thinking that now it has no reason to be afraid for itself.
Yet this does not come out of pride; for the soul clearly
understands that of itself it can do no good thing; but rather
out of an excessive confidence in God, without discretion:
because the soul does not see itself to be unfledged. It can go
forth out of its nest, and God Himself may take it out, but still
it cannot fly, because the virtues are not strong, and itself has
no experience wherewith to discern the dangers; nor is it aware
of the evil which trusting to itself may do it.
23. This it was that ruined me. Now, to understand this, and
everything else in the spiritual life, we have great need of a
director, and of conference with spiritual persons. I fully
believe, with respect to that soul which God raises to this
state, that He will not cease to be gracious to it, nor suffer it
to be lost, if it does not utterly forsake His Majesty. But when
that soul--as I said--falls, let it look to it again and again,
for the love of our Lord, that Satan deceive it not by tempting
it to give up prayer, as he tempted me, through that false
humility of which I have spoken before, [12] and would gladly
speak of again and again. Let it rely on the goodness of God,
which is greater than all the evil we can do. When we,
acknowledging our own vileness, desire to return into His grace,
He remembers our ingratitude no more,--no, not even the graces He
has given us, for the purpose of chastising us, because of our
misuse of them; yea, rather, they help to procure our pardon the
sooner, as of persons who have been members of His household, and
who, as they say, have eaten of His bread.
24. Let them remember His words, and behold what He hath done
unto me, who grew weary of sinning before He grew weary of
forgiving. He is never weary of giving, nor can His compassion
be exhausted. Let us not grow weary ourselves of receiving.
May He be blessed for ever, Amen; and may all created things
praise Him!
1. See ch. xx. § 2.
2. See ch. xvii. § 3.
3. Ch. vii. § 17, and ch. viii. § 5.
4. Psalm cxviii. 137: "Thou art just, O Lord, and Thy judgment
is right."
5. See ch. xxv.
6. See ch. viii. § 1.
7. Ch. vii. § 17.
8. Ch. vii. § 27.
9. Ch. xxxi. § 21.
10. Ch. xx. § 33, and ch. xxv. § 24.
11. Ch. xix. § 4.
12. See § 16.