Visions, Revelations, and Locutions.
1. One day, in prayer, the sweetness of which was so great that,
knowing how unworthy I was of so great a blessing, I began to
think how much I had deserved to be in that place which I had
seen prepared for me in hell,--for, as I said before, [1] I never
forget the way I saw myself there,--as I was thinking of this, my
soul began to be more and more on fire, and I was carried away in
spirit in a way I cannot describe. It seemed to me as if I had
been absorbed in, and filled with, that grandeur of God which, on
another occasion, I had felt. [2] In that majesty it was given
me to understand one truth, which is the fulness of all truth,
but I cannot tell how, for I saw nothing. It was said to me, I
saw not by whom, but I knew well enough it was the Truth Itself:
"This I am doing to thee is not a slight matter; it is one of
those things for which thou owest Me much; for all the evil in
the world comes from ignorance of the truths of the holy writings
in their clear simplicity, of which not one iota shall pass
away." [3] I thought that I had always believed this, and that
all the faithful also believed it. Then he said,: "Ah, My
daughter, they are few who love Me in truth; for if men loved Me,
I should not hide My secrets from them. Knowest thou what it is
to love Me in truth? It is to admit everything to be a lie which
is not pleasing unto Me. Now thou dost not understand it, but
thou shalt understand it clearly hereafter, in the profit it will
be to thy soul."
2. Our Lord be praised, so I found it; for after this vision I
look upon everything which does not tend to the service of God as
vanity and lies. I cannot tell how much I am convinced of this,
nor how sorry I am for those whom I see living in darkness, not
knowing the truth. I derived other great blessings also from
this, some of which I will here speak of, others I cannot
describe.
3. Our Lord at the same time uttered a special word of most
exceeding graciousness. I know not how it was done, for I saw
nothing; but I was filled, in a way which also I cannot describe,
with exceeding strength and earnestness of purpose to observe
with all my might everything contained in the divine writings.
I thought that I could rise above every possible hindrance put in
my way.
4. Of this divine truth, which was put before me I know not how,
there remains imprinted within me a truth--I cannot give it a
name--which fills me with a new reverence for God; it gives me a
notion of His Majesty and power in a way which I cannot explain.
I can understand that it is something very high. I had a very
great desire never to speak of anything but of those deep truths
which far surpass all that is spoken of here in the world,--and
so the living in it began to be painful to me.
5. The vision left me in great tenderness, joy, and humility.
It seemed to me, though I knew not how, that our Lord now gave me
great things; and I had no suspicion whatever of any illusion.
I saw nothing; but I understood how great a blessing it is to
make no account of anything which does not lead us nearer unto
God. I also understood what it is for a soul to be walking in
the truth, in the presence of the Truth itself. What I
understood is this: that our Lord gave me to understand that He
is Himself the very Truth.
6. All this I am speaking of I learnt at times by means of words
uttered; at other times I learnt some things without the help of
words, and that more clearly than those other things which were
told me in words. I understood exceedingly deep truths
concerning the Truth, more than I could have done through the
teaching of many learned men. It seems to me that learned men
never could have thus impressed upon me, nor so clearly explained
to me, the vanity of this world.
7. The Truth of which I am speaking, and which I was given to
see, is Truth Itself, in Itself. It has neither beginning nor
end. All other truths depend on this Truth, as all other loves
depend on this love, and all other grandeurs on this grandeur.
I understood it all, notwithstanding that my words are obscure in
comparison with that distinctness with which it pleased our Lord
to show it to me. What think you must be the power of His
Majesty, seeing that in so short a time it leaves so great a
blessing and such an impression on the soul? O Grandeur!
Majesty of mine! what is it Thou art doing, O my Lord Almighty!
Consider who it is to whom Thou givest blessings so great! Dost
Thou not remember that this my soul has been an abyss of lies and
a sea of vanities, and all my fault? Though Thou hadst given me
a natural hatred of lying yet I did involve myself in many lying
ways. How is this, O my God? how can it be that mercies and
graces so great should fall to the lot of one who has so ill
deserved them at Thy hands?
8. Once, when I was with the whole community reciting the Office,
my soul became suddenly recollected, and seemed to me all bright
as a mirror, clear behind, sideways, upwards, and downwards; and
in the centre of it I saw Christ our Lord, as I usually see Him.
It seemed to me that I saw Him distinctly in every part of my
soul, as in a mirror, and at the same time the mirror was all
sculptured--I cannot explain it--in our Lord Himself by a most
loving communication which I can never describe. I know that
this vision was a great blessing to me, and is still whenever I
remember it, particularly after Communion.
9. I understood by it, that, when a soul is in mortal sin, this
mirror becomes clouded with a thick vapour, and utterly obscured,
so that our Lord is neither visible nor present, though He is
always present in the conservation of its being. In heretics,
the mirror is, as it were, broken in pieces, and that is worse
than being dimmed. There is a very great difference between
seeing this and describing it, for it can hardly be explained.
But it has done me great good; it has also made me very sorry on
account of those times when I dimmed the lustre of my soul by my
sins, so that I could not see our Lord.
10. This vision seems to me very profitable to recollected
persons, to teach them to look upon our Lord as being in the
innermost part of their soul. It is a method of looking upon Him
which penetrates us more thoroughly, and is much more fruitful,
than that of looking upon Him as external to us, as I have said
elsewhere, [4] and as it is laid down in books on prayer, where
they speak of where we are to seek God. The glorious
St. Augustin, [5] in particular, says so, when he says that
neither in the streets of the city, nor in pleasures, nor in any
place whatever where he sought Him, did he find Him as he found
Him within himself. This is clearly the best way; we need not go
up to heaven, nor any further than our own selves, for that would
only distress the spirit and distract the soul, and bring but
little fruit.
11. I should like to point out one result of a deep trance; it
may be that some are aware of it. When the time is over during
which the soul was in union, wherein all its powers were wholly
absorbed,--it lasts, as I have said, [6] but a moment,--the soul
continues still to be recollected, unable to recover itself even
in outward things; for the two powers--the memory and the
understanding--are, as it were, in a frenzy, extremely
disordered. This, I say, happens occasionally, particularly in
the beginnings. I am thinking whether it does not result from
this: that our natural weakness cannot endure the vehemence of
the spirit, which is so great, and that the imagination is
enfeebled. I know it to be so with some. I think it best for
these to force themselves to give up prayer at that time, and
resume it afterwards, when they may recover what they have lost,
and not do everything at once, for in that case much harm might
come of it. I know this by experience, as well as the necessity
of considering what our health can bear.
12. Experience is necessary throughout, so also is a spiritual
director; for when the soul has reached this point, there are
many matters which must be referred to the director. If, after
seeking such a one, the soul cannot find him, our Lord will not
fail that soul, seeing that He has not failed me, who am what I
am: They are not many, I believe, who know by experience so many
things, and without experience it is useless to treat a soul at
all, for nothing will come of it, save only trouble and distress.
But our Lord will take this also into account, and for that
reason it is always best to refer the matter to the director.
I have already more than once said this, [7] and even all I am
saying now, only I do not distinctly remember it; but I do see
that it is of great importance, particularly to women, that they
should go to their confessor, and that he should be a man of
experience herein. There are many more women than men to whom
our Lord gives these graces; I have heard the holy friar Peter of
Alcantara say so, and, indeed, I know it myself. He used to say
that women made greater progress in this way than men did; and he
gave excellent reasons for his opinion, all in favour of women;
but there is no necessity for repeating them here.
13. Once, when in prayer, I had a vision, for a moment,--I saw
nothing distinctly, but the vision was most clear,--how all
things are seen in God and how all things are comprehended in
Him. I cannot in any way explain it, but the vision remains most
deeply impressed on my soul, and is one of those grand graces
which our Lord wrought in me, and one of those which put me to
the greatest shame and confusion whenever I call my sins to
remembrance. I believe, if it had pleased our Lord that I had
seen this at an earlier time, or if they saw it who sin against
Him, we should have neither the heart nor the daring to do so.
I had the vision, I repeat it, but I cannot say that I saw
anything; however, I must have seen something, seeing that I
explain it by an illustration, only it must have been in a way so
subtile and delicate that the understanding is unable to reach
it, or I am so ignorant in all that relates to these visions,
which seem to be not imaginary. In some of these visions there
must be something imaginary, only, as the powers of the soul are
then in a trance, they are not able afterwards to retain the
forms, as our Lord showed them to it then, and as He would have
it rejoice in them.
14. Let us suppose the Godhead to be a most brilliant diamond,
much larger than the whole world, or a mirror like that to which
I compared the soul in a former vision, [8] only in a way so high
that I cannot possibly describe it; and that all our actions are
seen in that diamond, which is of such dimensions as to include
everything, because nothing can be beyond it. It was a fearful
thing for me to see, in so short a time, so many things together
in that brilliant diamond, and a most piteous thing too, whenever
I think of it, to see such foul things as my sins present in the
pure brilliancy of that light.
15. So it is, whenever I remember it, I do not know how to bear
it, and I was then so ashamed of myself that I knew not where to
hide myself. Oh, that some one could make this plain to those
who commit most foul and filthy sins, that they may remember
their sins are not secret, and that God most justly resents them,
seeing that they are wrought in the very presence of His Majesty,
and that we are demeaning ourselves so irreverently before Him!
I saw, too, how completely hell is deserved for only one mortal
sin, and how impossible it is to understand the exceeding great
wickedness of committing it in the sight of majesty so great, and
how abhorrent to His nature such actions are. In this we see
more and more of His mercifulness, who, though we all know His
hatred of sin, yet suffers us to live.
16. The vision made me also reflect, that if one such vision as
this fills the souls with such awe, what will it be in the day of
judgment, when His Majesty will appear distinctly, and when we
too shall look on the sins we have committed! O my God, I have
been, oh, how blind! I have often been amazed at what I have
written; and you, my father, be you not amazed at anything, but
that I am still living,--I, who see such things, and know myself
to be what I am. Blessed for ever be He who has borne with me
so long!
17. Once, in prayer, with much recollection, sweetness, and
repose, I saw myself, as it seemed to me, surrounded by angels,
and was close unto God. I began to intercede with His Majesty on
behalf of the church. I was given to understand the great
services which a particular Order would render in the latter
days, and the courage with which its members would maintain
the faith.
18. I was praying before the most Holy Sacrament one day; I had a
vision of a Saint, whose Order was in some degree fallen. In his
hands he held a large book, which he opened, and then told me to
read certain words, written in large and very legible letters;
they were to this effect: "In times to come this Order will
flourish; it will have many martyrs." [9]
19. On another occasion, when I was at Matins in choir, six or
seven persons, who seemed to me to be of this Order, appeared and
stood before me with swords in their hands. The meaning of that,
as I think, is that they are to be defenders of the faith; for at
another time, when I was in prayer, I fell into a trance, and
stood in spirit on a wide plain, where many persons were
fighting; and the members of this Order were fighting with great
zeal. Their faces were beautiful, and as it were on fire.
Many they laid low on the ground defeated, others they killed.
It seemed to me to be a battle with heretics.
20. I have seen this glorious Saint occasionally, and he has told
me certain things, and thanked me for praying for his Order, and
he has promised to pray for me to our Lord. I do not say which
Orders these are,--our Lord, if it so pleased Him, could make
them known,--lest the others should be aggrieved. Let every
Order, or every member of them by himself, labour, that by his
means our Lord would so bless his own Order that it may serve Him
in the present grave necessities of His Church. Blessed are they
whose lives are so spent.
21. I was once asked by a person to pray God to let him know
whether his acceptance of a bishopric would be for the service of
God. After Communion our Lord said to me: "When he shall have
clearly and really understood that true dominion consists in
possessing nothing, he may then accept it." I understood by this
that he who is to be in dignity must be very far from wishing or
desiring it, or at least he must not seek it.
22. These and many other graces our Lord has given, and is giving
continually, to me a sinner. I do not think it is necessary to
speak of them, because the state of my soul can be ascertained
from what I have written; so also can the spirit which our Lord
has given me. May He be blessed for ever, who has been so
mindful of me!
23. Our Lord said to me once, consoling me, that I was not to
distress myself,--this He said most lovingly,--because in this
life we could not continue in the same state. [10] At one time I
should be fervent, at another not; now disquieted, and again at
peace, and tempted; but I must hope in Him, and fear not.
24. I was one day thinking whether it was a want of detachment in
me to take pleasure in the company of those who had the care of
my soul, and to have an affection for them, and to comfort myself
with those whom I see to be very great servants of God. [11]
Our Lord said to me: "It is not a virtue in a sick man to abstain
from thanking and loving the physician who seems to restore him
to health when he is in danger of death. What should I have done
without these persons? The conversation of good people was never
hurtful; my words should always be weighed, and holy; and I was
not to cease my relations with them, for they would do me good
rather than harm."
25. This was a great comfort to me, because, now and then, I
wished to abstain from converse with all people; for it seemed to
me that I was attached to them. Always, in all things, did our
Lord console me, even to the showing me how I was to treat those
who were weak, and some other people also. Never did He cease to
take care of me. I am sometimes distressed to see how little I
do in His service, and how I am forced to spend time in taking
care of a body so weak and worthless as mine is, more than
I wish.
26. I was in prayer one night, when it was time to go to sleep.
I was in very great pain, and my usual sickness was coming
on. [12] I saw myself so great a slave to myself, and, on the
other hand, the spirit asked for time for itself. I was so much
distressed that I began to weep exceedingly, and to be very
sorry. This has happened to me not once only, but, as I am
saying, very often; and it seems to make me weary of myself, so
that at the time I hold myself literally in abhorrence.
Habitually, however, I know that I do not hate myself, and I
never fail to take that which I see to be necessary for me.
May our Lord grant that I do not take more than is necessary!--I
am afraid I do.
27. When I was thus distressed, our Lord appeared unto me.
He comforted me greatly, and told me I must do this for His love,
and bear it; my life was necessary now. And so, I believe, I
have never known real pain since I resolved to serve my Lord and
my Consoler with all my strength; for though he would leave me to
suffer a little, yet He would console me in such a way that I am
doing nothing when I long for troubles. And it seems to me there
is nothing worth living for but this, and suffering is what I
most heartily pray to God for. I say to Him sometimes, with my
whole heart: "O Lord, either to die or to suffer! I ask of Thee
nothing else for myself." It is a comfort to me to hear the
clock strike, because I seem to have come a little nearer to the
vision of God, in that another hour of my life has passed away.
28. At other times I am in such a state that I do not feel that I
am living, nor yet do I desire to die but I am lukewarm, and
darkness surrounds me on every side, as I said before; [13] for I
am very often in great trouble. It pleased our Lord that the
graces He wrought in me should be published abroad, [14] as He
told me some years ago they should be. It was a great pain to
me, and I have borne much on that account even to this day, as
you, my father, know, because every man explains them in his own
sense. But my comfort herein is that it is not my fault that
they are become known, for I was extremely cautious never to
speak of them but to my confessors, or to persons who I knew had
heard of them from them. I was silent, however, not out of
humility, but because, as I said before, [15] it gave me great
pain to speak of them even to my confessors.
29. Now, however,--to God be the glory!--though many speak
against me, but out of a zeal for goodness, and though some are
afraid to speak to me, and even to hear my confession, and though
others have much to say about me, because I see that our Lord
willed by this means to provide help for many souls,--and also
because I see clearly and keep in mind how much He would suffer,
if only for the gaining of one,--I do not care about it at all.
30. I know not why it is so, but perhaps the reason may in some
measure be that His Majesty has placed me in this corner out of
the way, where the enclosure is so strict, and where I am as one
that is dead. I thought that no one would remember me, but I am
not so much forgotten as I wish I was, for I am forced to speak
to some people. But as I am in a house where none may see me, it
seems as if our Lord had been pleased to bring me to a haven,
which I trust in His Majesty will be secure. Now that I am out
of the world, with companions holy and few in number, I look down
on the world as from a great height, and care very little what
people say or know about me. I think much more of one soul's
advancement, even if it were but slight, than of all that people
may say of me; and since I am settled here it has pleased our
Lord that all my desires tend to this.
31. He has made my life to me now a kind of sleep; for almost
always what I see seems to me to be seen as in a dream, nor have
I any great sense either of pleasure or of pain. If matters
occur which may occasion either, the sense of it passes away so
quickly that it astonishes me, and leaves an impression as if I
had been dreaming,--and this is the simple truth; for if I wished
afterwards to delight in that pleasure, or be sorry over that
pain, it is not in my power to do so: just as a sensible person
feels neither pain nor pleasure in the memory of a dream that is
past; for now our Lord has roused my soul out of that state
which, because I was not mortified nor dead to the things of this
world, made me feel as I did, and His Majesty does not wish me to
become blind again.
32. This is the way I live now, my lord and father; do you, my
father, pray to God that He would take me to Himself, or enable
me to serve Him. May it please His Majesty that what I have
written may be of some use to you, my father! I have so little
time, [16] and therefore my trouble has been great in writing;
but it will be a blessed trouble if I have succeeded in saying
anything that will cause one single act of praise to our Lord.
If that were the case, I should look upon myself as sufficiently
rewarded, even if you, my father, burnt at once what I have
written. I would rather it were not burnt before those three saw
it, whom you, my father, know of, because they are, and have
been, my confessors; for if it be bad, it is right they should
lose the good opinion they have of me; and if it be good, they
are good and learned men, and I know they will recognise its
source, and give praise to Him who hath spoken through me.
33. May His Majesty ever be your protector, and make you so great
a saint that your spirit and light may show the way to me a
miserable creature, so wanting in humility and so bold as to have
ventured to write on subjects so high! May our Lord grant I have
not fallen into any errors in the matter, for I had the intention
and the desire to be accurate and obedient, and also that through
me He might, in some measure, have glory,--because that is what I
have been praying for these many years; and as my good works are
inefficient for that end, I have ventured to put in order this my
disordered life. Still, I have not wasted more time, nor given
it more attention, than was necessary for writing it; yet I have
put down all that has happened to me with all the simplicity and
sincerity possible.
34. May our Lord, who is all-powerful, grant--and He can if He
will--that I may attain to the doing of His will in all things!
May He never suffer this soul to be lost, which He so often, in
so many ways, and by so many means, has rescued from hell and
drawn unto Himself! Amen.
I.H.S.
The Holy Spirit be ever with you, my father. [17] Amen.
It would not be anything improper if I were to magnify my labour
in writing this, to oblige you to be very careful to recommend me
to our Lord; for indeed I may well do so, considering what I have
gone through in giving this account of myself, and in retracing
my manifold wretchedness. But, still, I can say with truth that
I felt it more difficult to speak of the graces which I have
received from our Lord than to speak of my offences against His
Majesty. You, my father, commanded me to write at length; that
is what I have done, on condition that you will do what you
promised, namely, destroy everything in it that has the
appearance of being wrong. I had not yet read it through after I
had written it, when your reverence sent for it. Some things in
it may not be very clearly explained, and there may be some
repetitions; for the time I could give to it was so short, that I
could not stop to see what I was writing. I entreat your
reverence to correct it and have it copied, if it is to be sent
on to the Father-Master, Avila, [18] for perhaps some one may
recognise the handwriting. I wish very much you would order it
so that he might see it, for I began to write it with a view to
that I shall be greatly comforted if he shall think that I am on
a safe road, now that, so far as it concerns me, there is nothing
more to be done.
Your reverence will do in all things that which to you shall seem
good, and you will look upon yourself as under an obligation to
take care of one who trusts her soul to your keeping. I will
pray for the soul of your reverence to our Lord, so long as I
live. You will, therefore, be diligent in His service, in order
that you may be able to help me; for your reverence will see by
what I have written how profitable it is to give oneself, as your
reverence has begun to do, wholly unto Him who gives Himself to
us so utterly without measure.
Blessed be His Majesty for ever! I hope of His mercy we shall
see one another one day, when we, your reverence and myself,
shall see more clearly the great mercies He has shown us, and
when we shall praise Him for ever and ever. Amen. This book was
finished in June, 1562.
"This date refers to the first account which the holy Mother
Teresa of Jesus wrote of her life; it was not then divided into
chapters. Afterwards she made this copy, and inserted in it many
things which had taken place subsequent to this date, such as the
foundation of the monastery of St. Joseph of Avila, as in
p. 169. [19]--Fray Do Bañes."
1. Ch. xxxii. § 1.
2. Ch. xxviii. § 14.
3. St. Matt. v. 18: "Iota unum aut unus apex non præteribit
a lege."
4. Ch. iv. § 10.
5. "Ecce quantum spatiatus sum in memoria mea quærens Te, Domine;
et non Te inveni extra eam. . . . Ex quo didici Te, manes in
memoria mea, et illic Te invenio cum reminiscor Tui et delector
in Te" (Confess. x. 24). See Inner Fortress, Sixth Mansion,
ch. iv.
6. Ch. xx. § 26.
7. Ch. xxv. § 18, ch. xxvi. § 4. See St. John of the Cross,
Mount Carmel, bk. ii. ch. xxii.
8. § 8.
9. Yepez says that the Order here spoken of is the Carmelite, and
Ribera understands the Saint to refer to that of St. Dominic.
The Bollandists, n. 1638-1646, on the whole, prefer the authority
of Ribera to that of Yepez and give good reasons for their
preference, setting aside as insufficient the testimony of Fray
Luis of the Assumption, who says he heard himself from the
Venerable Anne of St. Bartholomew that the Order in question is
the Order of our Lady of Mount Carmel. Don Vicente, the Spanish
editor, rejects the opinion of Ribera, on the ground that it
could not have been truly said of the Dominicans in the sixteenth
century that the Order was in "some degree fallen," for it was in
a most flourishing state. He therefore was inclined to believe
that the Saint referred to the Augustinians or to the
Franciscans. But, after he had printed this part of his book, he
discovered among the MSS. in the public library of Madrid a
letter of Anne of St. Bartholomew, addressed to Fray Luis of the
Assumption, in which the saintly companion of St. Teresa says
that the "Order was ours." Don Vicente has published the letter
in the Appendix, p. 566.
10. Job xiv. 2: "Nunquam in eodem statu permanet."
11. See ch. xxxvii. §§ 4, 6.
12. See ch. vii. § 18.
13. Ch. xxx. § 10.
14. Ch. xxxi. §§ 16, 17.
15. Ch. xxviii. § 6.
16. See ch. xiv. § 12.
17. This letter, which seems to have accompanied the "Life," is
printed among the other letters of the Saint, and is addressed to
her confessor, the Dominican friar, Pedro Ibañez. It is the
fifteenth letter in the first volume of the edition of Madrid;
but it is not dated there.
18. Juan de Avila, commonly called the Apostle of Andalusia.
19. I.e. of the MS. See p. 337 [Transcriber's note:
ch. xxxvi. § 15] of this translation.
The
Relations or Manifestations
of Her
Spiritual State
Which
St. Teresa Submitted to Her Confessors.
The Relations.
Relation 1.
Sent to St. Peter of Alcantara in 1560 from the Monastery of the
Incarnation, Avila. [1]
1. The method of prayer I observe at present is this: when I am
in prayer, it is very rarely that I can use the understanding,
because the soul becomes at once recollected, remains in repose,
or falls into a trance, so that I cannot in any way have the use
of the faculties and the senses,--so much so, that the hearing
alone is left; but then it does not help me to
understand anything.
2. It often happens, when I am not even thinking of the things of
God, but engaged in other matters, and when prayer seems to be
beyond my power, whatever efforts I might make, because of the
great aridity I am in, bodily pains contributing thereto, that
this recollection or elevation of spirit comes upon me so
suddenly that I cannot withstand it, and the fruits and blessings
it brings with it are in a moment mine: and this, without my
having had a vision, or heard anything, or knowing where I am,
except that when the soul seems to be lost I see it make great
progress, which I could not have made if I had laboured for a
whole year, so great is my gain.
3. At other times certain excessive impetuosities occur,
accompanied with a certain fainting away of the soul for God, so
that I have no control over myself; [2] my life seems to have
come to an end, and so it makes me cry out and call upon God; and
this comes upon me with great vehemence. Sometimes I cannot
remain sitting, so great is the oppression of the heart; and this
pain comes on without my doing anything to cause it, and the
nature of it is such that my soul would be glad never to be
without it while I live. And the longings I have are longings
not to live; and they come on because it seems as if I must live
on without being able to find any relief, for relief comes from
the vision of God, which comes by death, and death is what I
cannot take; and with all this my soul thinks that all except
itself are filled with consolations, and that all find help in
their troubles, but not itself. The distress thus occasioned is
so intense that, if our Lord did not relieve it by throwing it
into a trance, whereby all is made calm, and the soul rests in
great quiet and is satisfied, now by seeing something of that
which it desires, now by hearing other things, it would seem to
be impossible for it to be delivered from this pain.
4. At other times there come upon me certain desires to serve
God, with a vehemence so great that I cannot describe it, and
accompanied with a certain pain at seeing how unprofitable I am.
It seems to me then that there is nothing in the world, neither
death, nor martyrdom, that I could not easily endure.
This conviction, too, is not the result of any reflection, but
comes in a moment. I am wholly changed, and I know not whence
cometh such great courage. I think I should live to raise my
voice, and publish to all the world how important it is for men
not to be satisfied with the common way, and how great the good
is that God will give us if we prepare ourselves to receive it.
I say it again, these desires are such that I am melted away in
myself, for I seem to desire what I cannot have. The body seems
to me to hold me in prison, through its inability to serve God
and my state [3] in anything; for if it were not for the body, I
might do very great things, so far as my strength would allow;
and thus, because I see myself without any power whatever to
serve God, I feel this pain in a way wholly indescribable; the
issue is delight, recollection, and the consolation of God.
5. Again, it has happened, when these longings to serve Him come
upon me, that I wish to do penance, but I am not able. It would
be a great relief to me, and it does relieve and cheer me, though
what I do is almost nothing, because of my bodily weakness; and
yet, if I were to give way to these my longings, I believe I
should observe no moderation.
6. Sometimes, if I have to speak to any one, I am greatly
distressed, and I suffer so much that it makes me weep
abundantly; for my whole desire is to be alone, and solitude
comforts me, though at times I neither pray nor read, and
conversation--particularly of kindred and connections--seems
oppressive, and myself to be as a slave, except when I speak to
those whose conversation is of prayer and matters of the
soul,--in these I find comfort and joy; [4] yet these
occasionally are too much for me, and I would rather not see
them, but go where I might be alone: though this is not often the
case, for those especially who direct my conscience always
console me.
7. At other times it gives me much pain that I must eat and
sleep, and that I see I cannot forego these things, being less
able to do so than any one. I submit that I may serve God, and
thus I offer up those actions to him. Time seems to me too
short, and that I have not enough for my prayer, for I should
never be tired of being alone. I am always wishing I had time
for reading, for I have been always fond of reading. I read very
little, for when I take up a book I become recollected through
the pleasure it gives me, and thus my reading is turned into
prayer: and it is but rarely, for I have many occupations; and
though they are good, they do not give me the pleasure which
reading would give. And thus I am always wishing for more time,
and everything becomes disagreeable, so I believe, because I see
I cannot do what I wish and desire.
8. All these desires, with an increase in virtue, have been given
me by our Lord since He raised me to this prayer of quiet, and
sent these raptures. I find myself so improved that I look on
myself as being a mass of perdition before this. These raptures
and visions leave me in possession of the blessings I shall now
speak of; and I maintain that, if there be any good in me, they
are the occasions of it.
9. I have made a very strong resolution never to offend God, not
even venially. I would rather die a thousand deaths than do
anything of the kind knowingly. I am resolved never to leave
undone anything I may consider to be the more perfect, or more
for the honour of our Lord, if he who has the care of my soul and
directs me tells me I may do it. Cost me what pain it might, I
would not leave such an act undone for all the treasure of the
world. If I were to do so, I do not think I could have the face
to ask anything of God our Lord, or to make my prayer; and yet,
for all this, I have many faults and imperfections. I am
obedient to my confessor, [5] though imperfectly; but if I know
that he wishes or commands anything, I would not leave that
undone, so far as I understand it; if I did so, I should think
myself under a grievous delusion.
10. I have a longing for poverty, though not free from
imperfection; however, I believe, if I had wealth, I would not
reserve any revenue, nor hoard money for myself, nor do I care
for it; I wish to have only what is necessary. Nevertheless, I
feel that I am very defective in this virtue; for, though I
desire nothing for myself, I should like to have something to
give away: still, I desire no revenue, nor anything
for myself. [6]
11. In almost all the visions I have had, I have found good, if
it be not a delusion of Satan; herein I submit myself to the
judgment of my confessors.
12. As to fine and beautiful things, such as water, fields,
perfume, music, etc., I think I would rather not have them, so
great is the difference between them and what I am in the habit
of seeing, and so all pleasure in them is gone from me. [7]
Hence it is that I care not for them, unless it be at the first
sight: they never make any further impression; to me they seem
but dirt.
13. If I speak or converse with people in the world--for I cannot
help it--even about prayer, and if the conversation be long,
though to pass away the time, I am under great constraint if it
be not necessary, for it gives me much pain.
14. Amusements, of which I used to be fond, and worldly things,
are all disagreeable to me now, and I cannot look at them.
15. The longings, which I said I have, [8] of loving and serving
and seeing God, are not helped by any reflections, as formerly,
when I thought I was very devout, and shed many tears; but they
flow out of a certain fire and heat so excessive that, I repeat
it, if God did not relieve them by throwing me into a trance,
wherein the soul seems to find itself satisfied, I believe my
life would come to an end at once.
16. When I see persons making great progress, and thus resolved,
detached, and courageous, I love them much; and I should like to
have my conversation with such persons, and I think they help me
on. People who are afraid, and seemingly cautious in those
things, the doing of which is perfectly reasonable here, seem to
vex me, and drive me to pray to God and the saints to make them
undertake such things as these which now frighten us. Not that I
am good for anything myself, but because I believe that God helps
those who, for His sake, apply themselves to great things, and
that He never abandons any one who puts his trust in Him only.
And I should like to find any one who would help me to believe
so, and to be without thought about food and raiment, but leave
it all in the hands of God. [9]
17. This leaving in the hands of God the supply of all I need is
not to be understood as excluding all labour on my part, but
merely solicitude--I mean, the solicitude of care. And since I
have attained to this liberty, it goes well with me, and I labour
to forget myself as much as I can. I do not think it is a year
ago since our Lord gave me this liberty.
18. Vainglory [10]--glory, be to God!--so far as I know, there is
no reason why I should have any; for I see plainly that in these
things which God sends me I have no part myself; on the contrary,
God makes me conscious of my own wretchedness; for whatever
reflections I might be able to make, I could never come to the
knowledge of such deep truths as I attain to in a single rapture.
19. When I speak of these things a few days after, they seem to
me as if they had happened to another person. Previously, I
thought it a wrong to me that they should be known to others; but
I see now that I am not therefore any the better, but rather
worse, seeing that I make so little progress after receiving
mercies so great. And certainly, in every way, it seems to me
that there was not in the world anybody worse than myself; and so
the virtues of others seem to me much more meritorious than mine,
and that I do nothing myself but receive graces, and that God
must give to others at once all that He is now giving unto me;
and I pray Him not to reward me in this life; and so I believe
that God has led me along this way because I am weak and wicked.
20. When I am in prayer, and even almost always when I am able to
reflect at all, I cannot, even if I tried, pray to God for rest,
or desire it; for I see that His life was one of suffering, and
that I ask Him to send me, giving me first the grace to bear it.
21. Everything of this kind, and of the highest perfection, seems
to make so deep an impression on me in prayer, that I am amazed
at the sight of truths so great and so clear that the things of
the world seem to be folly; and so it is necessary for me to take
pains to reflect on the way I demeaned myself formerly in the
things of the world, for it seems to me folly to feel for deaths
and the troubles of the world,--at least, that sorrow for, or
love of, kindred and friends should last long. I say I have to
take pains when I am considering what I was, and what I used to
feel.
22. If I see people do anything which clearly seems to be sin, I
cannot make up my mind that they have offended God; and if I
dwell upon this at all,--which happens rarely or never,--I never
can make up my mind, though I see it plainly enough. It seems to
me that everybody is as anxious to serve God as I am. And herein
God has been very gracious unto me, for I never dwell on an evil
deed, to remember it afterwards and if I do remember it, I see
some virtue or other in that person. In this way these things
never weary me, except generally: but heresies do; they distress
me very often, and almost always when I think of them they seem
to me to be the only trouble which should be felt. And also I
feel, when I see people who used to give themselves to prayer
fall away; this gives me pain, but not much, because I strive not
to dwell upon it.
23. I find, also, that I am improved in the matter of that
excessive neatness which I was wont to observe, [11] though not
wholly delivered from it. I do not discern that I am always
mortified in this; sometimes, however, I do.
24. All this I have described, together with a very constant
dwelling in thought on God, is the ordinary state of my soul, so
far as I can understand it. And if I must be busy about
something else, without my seeking it, as I said before, [12] I
know not who makes me awake,--and this not always, only when I am
busy with things of importance; and such--glory be to God!--only
at intervals demand my attention, and do not occupy me at
all times.
25. For some days--they are not many, however--for three, or
four, or five, all my good and fervent thoughts, and my visions,
seem to be withdrawn, yea, even forgotten, so that, if I were to
seek for it, I know of no good that can ever have been in me. It
seems to have been all a dream, or, at least, I can call nothing
to mind. Bodily pains at the same time distress me.
My understanding is troubled, so that I cannot think at all about
God, neither do I know under what law I live. If I read
anything, I do not understand it; I seem to be full of faults,
and without any resolution whatever to practise virtue; and the
great resolution I used to have is come to this, that I seem to
be unable to resist the least temptation or slander of the world.
It suggests itself to me then that I am good for nothing, if any
one would have me undertake more than the common duties. I give
way to sadness, thinking I have deceived all those who trusted me
at all. I should like to hide myself where nobody could see me;
but my desire for solitude arises from want of courage, not from
love of virtue. It seems to me that I should like to dispute
with all who contradict me; I am under the influence of these
impressions, only God has been so gracious unto me, that I do not
offend more frequently than I was wont to do, nor do I ask Him to
deliver me from them, but only, if it be His will I should always
suffer thus, to keep me from offending Him; and I submit myself
to His will with my whole heart, and I see that it is a very
great grace bestowed upon me that He does not keep me constantly
in this state.
26. One thing astonishes me; it is that, while I am in this
state, through a single word of those I am in the habit of
hearing, or a single vision, or a little self-recollection,
lasting but an Ave Maria, or through my drawing near to
communicate, I find my soul and body so calm, so sound, the
understanding so clear, and myself possessing all the strength
and all the good desires I usually have. And this I have had
experience of very often--at least when I go to Communion; it is
more than six months ago that I felt a clear improvement in my
bodily health, [13] and that occasionally brought about through
raptures, and I find it last sometimes more than three hours, at
other times I am much stronger for a whole day; and I do not
think it is fancy, for I have considered the matter, and
reflected on it. Accordingly, when I am thus recollected, I fear
no illness. The truth is, that when I pray, as I was accustomed
to do before, I feel no improvement.
27. All these things of which I am speaking make me believe that
it comes from God; for when I see what I once was, that I was in
the way of being lost, and that soon, my soul certainly is
astonished at these things, without knowing whence these virtues
came to me; I did not know myself, and saw that all was a gift,
and not the fruit of my labours. I understand in all
truthfulness and sincerity, and see that I am not deluded, that
it has been not only the means of drawing me to God in His
service, but of saving me also from hell. This my confessors
know, who have heard my general confession.
28. Also, when I see any one who knows anything about me, I wish
to let him know my whole life, [14] because my honour seems to me
to consist in the honour of our Lord, and I care for nothing
else. This He knows well, or I am very blind; for neither
honour, nor life, nor praise, nor good either of body or of soul,
can interest me, nor do I seek or desire any advantage, only His
glory. I cannot believe that Satan has sought so many means of
making my soul advance, in order to lose it after all. I do not
hold him to be so foolish. Nor can I believe it of God, though I
have deserved to fall into delusions because of my sins, that He
has left unheeded so many prayers of so many good people for two
years, and I do nothing else but ask everybody to pray to our
Lord that He would show me if this be for His glory, or lead me
by another way. [15] I do not believe that these things would
have been permitted by His Majesty to be always going on if they
were not His work. These considerations, and the reasons of so
many saintly men, give me courage when I am under the pressure of
fear that they are not from God, I being so wicked myself.
But when I am in prayer, and during those days when I am in
repose, and my thoughts fixed on God, if all the learned and holy
men in the world came together and put me to, all conceivable
tortures, and I, too, desirous of agreeing with them, they could
not make me believe that this is the work of Satan, for I cannot.
And when they would have had me believe it, I was afraid, seeing
who it was that said so; and I thought that they must be saying
what was true, and that I, being what I was, must have been
deluded. But all they had said to me was destroyed by the first
word, or recollection, or vision that came, and I was able to
resist no longer, and believed it was from God. [16]
29. However, I can think that Satan now and then may intermeddle
here, and so it is, as I have seen and said; but he produces
different results, nor can he, as it seems to me, deceive any one
possessed of any experience. Nevertheless, I say that, though I
do certainly believe this to be from God, I would never do
anything, for any consideration whatever, that is not judged by
him who has the charge of my soul to be for the better service of
our Lord, and I never had any intention but to obey without
concealing anything, for that is my duty. I am very often
rebuked for my faults, and that in such a way as to pierce me to
the very quick; and I am warned when there is, or when there may
be, any danger in what I am doing. These rebukes and warnings
have done me much good, in often reminding me of my former sins,
which make me exceedingly sorry.
30. I have been very long, but this is the truth,--that, when I
rise from my prayer, I see that I have received blessings which
seem too briefly described. Afterwards I fall into many
imperfections, and am unprofitable and very wicked. And perhaps
I have no perception of what is good, but am deluded; still, the
difference in my life is notorious, and compels me to think over
all I have said--I mean, that which I verily believe I have felt.
These are the perfections which I feel our Lord has wrought in
me, who am so wicked and so imperfect. I refer it all to your
judgment, my father, for you know the whole state of my soul.
1. Fra Anton. a Sancto Joseph, in his notes on this Relation,
usually published among the letters of the Saint, ed. Doblado,
vol. ii. letter 11, says it was written for St. Peter of
Alcantara when he came to Avila in 1560, at the time when the
Saint was so severely tried by her confessors and the others who
examined her spirit, and were convinced that her prayer was a
delusion of Satan: see the Life, ch. xxv. § 18. The following
notes were discovered among the papers of the Saint in the
monastery of the Incarnation, and are supposed to refer to this
Relation. The Chronicler of the Order, Fra Francis a Sancta
Maria, is inclined to the belief that they were written by
St. Peter of Alcantara, to whom the Relation is addressed, and
the more so because Ribera does not claim them for any member of
the Society, notwithstanding the reference to them in §§ 22, 28.
"1. The end God has in view is the drawing a soul to himself;
that of the devil is the withdrawing it from God. Our Lord never
does anything whereby anyone may be separated from Him, and the
devil does nothing whereby any one may be made to draw near unto
God. All the visions and the other operations in the soul of
this person draw her nearer unto God, and make her more humble
and obedient.
"2. It is the teaching of St. Thomas that an angel of light may
be recognised by the peace and quietness he leaves in the soul.
She is never visited in this way, but she afterwards abides in
peace and joy; so much so, that all the pleasures of earth
together are not comparable to one of these visitations.
"3. She never commits a fault, nor falls into an imperfection,
without being instantly rebuked by Him who speaks interiorly
to her.
"4. She has never prayed for nor wished for them: all she wishes
for is to do the will of God our Lord in all things.
"5. Everything herein is consistent with the Scriptures and the
teaching of the Church, and most true, according to the most
rigorous principles of scholastic theology.
"6. This soul is most pure and sincere, with the most fervent
desires of being pleasing unto God, and of trampling on every
earthly thing.
"7. She has been told that whatever she shall ask of God, being
good, she shall have. She has asked much, and things not
convenient to put on paper lest it should be wearisome; all of
which our Lord has granted.
"8. When these operations are from God, they are always directed
to the good of the recipient, to that of the community, or of
some other. That she has profited by them she knows by
experience, and she knows it, too, of other persons also.
"9. No one converses with her, if he be not in evil dispositions,
who is not moved thereby to devotion, even though she says
nothing about it.
"10. She is growing daily in the perfection of virtues, and
learns by these things the way of a higher perfection. And thus,
during the whole time in which she had visions, she was making
progress, according to the doctrine of St. Thomas.
"11. The spirit that speaks to her soul never tells her anything
in the way of news, or what is unbecoming, but only that which
tends to edification.
"12. She has been told of some persons that they were full of
devils: but this was for the purpose of enabling her to
understand the state of a soul which has sinned mortally against
our Lord.
"13. The devil's method is, when he attempts to deceive a soul,
to advise that soul never to speak of what he says to it; but the
spirit that speaks to this soul warns her to be open with learned
men, servants of our Lord, and that the devil may deceive her if
she should conceal anything through shame.
"14. So great is the progress of her soul in this way, and the
edification she ministers in the good example given, that more
than forty nuns in her monastery practise great recollection.
"15. These supernatural things occur after long praying, when she
is absorbed in God, on fire with His love, or at Communion.
"16. They kindle in her a most earnest desire to be on the right
road, and to escape the delusions of Satan.
"17. They are in her the cause of the deepest humility; she
understands that what she receives comes to her from the hand of
our Lord, and how little worth she is herself.
"18. When they are withheld, anything that occurs is wont to pain
and distress her; but when she is in this state, she remembers
nothing; all she is conscious of is a great longing for
suffering, and so great is it that she is amazed at it.
"19. They are to her sources of joy and consolation in her
troubles, when people speak ill of her, and in her
infirmities--and she has fearful pains about the heart,
sicknesses, and many other afflictions, all of which leave her
when she has these visions.
"20. With all this, she undergoes great penances, fasting, the
discipline, and mortifications.
"21. All that on earth may give her any pleasure, and her trials,
which are many, she bears with equal tranquillity of mind,
without losing the peace and quiet of her soul.
"22. Her resolution never to offend our Lord is so earnest that
she has made a vow never to leave undone what she knows herself,
or is told by those who understand the matter better, to be the
more perfect. And though she holds the members of the Society to
be saints, and believes that our Lord made use of them to bestow
on her graces so great, she told me that, if she knew it would be
more perfect to have nothing more to do with them, she would
never speak to them again, nor see them, notwithstanding the fact
that it was through them that her mind had been quieted and
directed in these things.
"23. The sweetnesses she commonly receives, her sense of God, her
languishing with love, are certainly marvellous, and through
these she is wont to be enraptured the whole day long.
"24. She frequently falls into a trance when she hears God spoken
of with devotion and earnestness, and cannot resist the rapture,
do what she can; and in that state her appearance is such that
she excites very great devotion.
"25. She cannot bear to be directed by any one who will not tell
her of her faults, and rebuke her; all that she accepts with
great humility.
"26. Moreover, she cannot endure people who are in a state of
perfection, if they do not labour to become perfect, according to
the spirit of their rule.
"27. She is most detached from her kindred, has no desire to
converse with people, and loves solitude. She has a great
devotion to the saints, and on their feasts, and on the days on
which the Church celebrates the mysteries of the faith, is filled
with most fervent affections for our Lord.
"28. If all the members of the Society, and all the servants of
God upon earth, tell her that her state is an effect of the
operations of Satan, or were to say so, she is in fear and
trembling before the visions occur; but as soon as she is in
prayer, and recollected, she cannot be persuaded, were they to
tear her into a thousand pieces, that it is any other than God
who is working in her and speaking to her.
"29. God has given her a most wonderfully strong and valiant
spirit: she was once timid; now she tramples on all the evil
spirits. She has put far away from herself all the littleness
and silliness of women; she is singularly free from scruples, and
most sincere.
"30. Besides, our Lord has given her the gift of most sweet
tears, great compassion for her neighbours, the knowledge of her
own faults, a great reverence for good people, and
self-abasement; and I am certain that she has done good to many,
of whom I am one.
"31. She is continually reminding herself of God, and has a sense
of His presence. All the locutions have been verified, and every
one of them accomplished; and this is a very great test.
"32. Her visions are a source of great clearness in her
understanding, and an admirable illumination in the things
of God.
"33. It was said to her that she should lead those who were
trying her spirit to look into the Scriptures, and that they
would not find that any soul desirous of pleasing God had been so
long deceived."
2. See Life, ch. xxix. §§ 9-13.
3. De la Fuente thinks she means the religious state.
4. See Life, ch. xxiv. § 8, and ch. xxxi. § 22.
5. See Life, ch. xxiii. § 19.
6. See Life, ch. xxxv. § 2.
7. See Life, ch. ix. § 6, and ch. xiv. § 7.
8. See § 3, above.
9. St. Matt. vi. 31: "Nolite ergo solliciti esse, dicentes: Quid
manducabimus. . . . aut quo operiemur?"
10. See Life, ch. vii. § 2.
11. See Life, ch. ii. § 2.
12. § 2, above.
13. See Life, ch. xx. § 29.
14. See Life, ch. xxxi. § 17.
15. See Life, ch. xxv. § 20.
16. See Life, ch. xxv. §§ 18, 22.
Relation II.
To One of Her Confessors, from the House of Doña Luisa de la Cerda,
in 1562. [1]
Jesus.
I think it is more than a year since this was written; God has
all this time protected me with His hand, so that I have not
become worse; on the contrary, I see a great change for the
better in all I have to say: may He be praised for it all!
1. The visions and revelations have not ceased, but they are of a
much higher kind. Our Lord has taught me a way of prayer,
wherein I find myself far more advanced, more detached from the
things of this life, more courageous, and more free. [2] I fall
into a trance more frequently, for these ecstasies at times come
upon me with great violence, and in such a way as to be outwardly
visible, I having no power to resist them; and even when I am
with others--for they come in such a way as admits of no
disguising them, unless it be by letting people suppose that, as
I am subject to disease of the heart, they are fainting-fits; I
take great pains, however, to resist them when they are coming
on--sometimes I cannot do it.
2. As to poverty, God seems to have wrought great things in me;
for I would willingly be without even what is necessary, unless
given me as an alms; and therefore my longing is extreme that I
may be in such a state as to depend on alms alone for my food.
It seems to me that to live, when I am certain of food and
raiment without fail, is not so complete an observance of my vow
or of the counsel of Christ as it would be to live where no
revenue is possessed, and I should be in want at times; and as to
the blessings that come with true poverty, they seem to me to be
great, and I would not miss them. Many times do I find myself
with such great faith, that I do not think God will ever fail
those who serve Him, and without any doubt whatever that there
is, or can be, any time in which His words are not fulfilled: I
cannot persuade myself to the contrary, nor can I have any fear;
and so, when they advise me to accept an endowment, I feel it
keenly, and betake myself unto God.
3. I think I am much more compassionate towards the poor than I
used to be, having a great pity for them and a desire to help
them; for if I regarded only my good will, I should give them
even the habit I wear. I am not fastidious with respect to them,
even if I had to do with them or touched them with my hands,--and
this I now see is a gift of God; for though I used to give alms
for His love, I had no natural compassion. I am conscious of a
distinct improvement herein.
4. As to the evil speaking directed against me,--which is
considerable, and highly injurious to me, and done by many,--I
find myself herein also very much the better. I think that what
they say makes scarcely any more impression upon me than it would
upon an idiot. I think at times, and nearly always, that it is
just. I feel it so little that I see nothing in it that I might
offer to God, as I learn by experience that my soul gains greatly
thereby; on the contrary, the evil speaking seems to be a favour.
And thus, the first time I go to prayer, I have no ill-feeling
against them; the first time I hear it, it creates in me a little
resistance, but it neither disturbs nor moves me; on the
contrary, when I see others occasionally disturbed, I am sorry
for them. So it is, I put myself out of the question; for all
the wrongs of this life seem to me so light, that it is not
possible to feel them, because I imagine myself to be dreaming,
and see that all this will be nothing when I awake.
5. God is giving me more earnest desires, a greater love of
solitude, a much greater detachment, as I said, with the visions;
by these He has made me know what all that is, even if I gave up
all the friends I have, both men and women and kindred. This is
the least part of it: my kindred are rather a very great
weariness to me; I leave them in all freedom and joy, provided it
be to render the least service unto God; and thus on every side I
find peace.
6. Certain things, about which I have been warned in prayer, have
been perfectly verified. Thus, considering the graces received
from God, I find myself very much better; but, considering my
service to Him in return, I am exceedingly worthless, for I have
received greater consolation than I have given, though sometimes
that gives me grievous pain. My penance is very scanty, the
respect shown me great, much against my own will very often. [3]
However in a word, I see that I live an easy, not a penitential,
life; God help me, as He can!
7. It is now nine months, more or less, since I wrote this with
mine own hand; since then I have not turned my back on the graces
which God has given me; I think I have received, so far as I can
see, a much greater liberty of late. Hitherto I thought I had
need of others, and I had more reliance on worldly helps. Now I
clearly understand that all men are bunches of dried rosemary,
and that there is no safety in leaning on them, for if they are
pressed by contradictions or evil speaking they break down.
And so I know by experience that the only way not to fall is to
cling to the cross, and put our trust in Him who was nailed
thereto. I find Him a real Friend, and with Him I find myself
endowed with such might that, God never failing me, I think I
should be able to withstand the whole world if it were
against me.
8. Having a clear knowledge of this truth, I used to be very fond
of being loved by others; now I do not care for that, yea,
rather, their love seems to weary me in some measure, excepting
theirs who take care of my soul, or theirs to whom I think I do
good. Of the former I wish to be loved, in order that they may
bear with me; and of the latter, that they may be more inclined
to believe me when I tell them that all is vanity.
9. In the very grievous trials, persecutions, and contradictions
of these months, [4] God gave me great courage; and the more
grievous they were, the greater the courage, without weariness in
suffering. Not only had I no ill-feeling against those who spoke
evil of me, but I had, I believe, conceived a deeper affection
for them. I know not how it was; certainly it was a gift from
the hand of our Lord.
10. When I desire anything, I am accustomed naturally to desire
it with some vehemence; now my desires are so calm, that I do not
even feel that I am pleased when I see them fulfilled. Sorrow and
joy, excepting in that which relates to prayer, are so moderated,
that I seem to be without sense, and in that state I remain for
some days.
11. The vehement longings to do penance which come, and have
come, upon me are great; and if I do any penance, I feel it to be
so slight in comparison with that longing, that I regard it
sometimes, and almost always, as a special consolation; however,
I do but little, because of my great weakness.
12. It is a very great pain to me very often, and at this moment
most grievous, that I must take food, particularly if I am in
prayer. It must be very great, for it makes me weep much, and
speak the language of affliction, almost without being aware of
it, and that is what I am not in the habit of doing, for I do not
remember that I ever did so in the very heaviest trials of my
life: I am not a woman in these things, for I have a hard heart.
13. I feel in myself a very earnest desire, more so than usual,
that God may find those who will serve Him, particularly learned
men, in all detachment, and who will not cleave to anything of
this world, for I see it is all a mockery; for when I see the
great needs of the Church, I look upon it as a mockery to be
distressed about aught else. I do nothing but pray to God for
such men, because I see that one person, who is wholly perfect in
the true fervour of the love of God, will do more good than many
who are lukewarm.
14. In matters concerning the faith, my courage seems to me much
greater. I think I could go forth alone by myself against the
Lutherans, and convince them of their errors. I feel very keenly
the loss of so many souls. I see many persons making great
progress; I see clearly it was the pleasure of God that such
progress should have been helped by me; and I perceive that my
soul, of His goodness, grows daily more and more in His love.
15. I think I could not be led away by vainglory, even if I
seriously tried, and I do not see how I could imagine any one of
my virtues to be mine, for it is not long since I was for many
years without any at all; and now so far as I am concerned, I do
nothing but receive graces, without rendering any service in
return, being the most worthless creature in the world. And so
it is that I consider at times how all, except myself, make
progress; I am good for nothing in myself. This is not humility
only, but the simple truth; and the knowledge of my being so
worthless makes me sometimes think with fear that I must be under
some delusion. Thus I see clearly that all my gain has come
through the revelations and the raptures, in which I am nothing
myself, and do no more to effect them than the canvas does for
the picture painted on it. This makes me feel secure and be at
rest; and I place myself in the hands of God, and trust my
desires; for I know for certain that my desires are to die for
Him, and to lose all ease, and that whatever may happen.
16. There are days wherein I remember times without number the
words of St. Paul, [5]--though certainly they are not true of
me,--that I have neither life, nor speech, nor will of my own,
but that there is One in me by whom I am directed and made
strong; and I am, as it were, beside myself, and thus life is a
very grievous burden to me. And the greatest oblation I make to
God, as the highest service on my part, is that I, when I feel it
so painfully to be absent from Him, am willing to live on for the
love of Him. I would have my life also full of great
tribulations and persecutions; now that I am unprofitable, I
should like to suffer; and I would endure all the tribulations in
the world to gain ever so little more merit--I mean, by a more
perfect doing of His will.
17. Everything that I have learnt in prayer, though it may be two
years previously, I have seen fulfilled. What I see and
understand of the grandeurs of God, and of the way He has shown
them, is so high, that I scarcely ever begin to think of them but
my understanding fails me,--for I am as one that sees things far
higher than I can understand,--and I become recollected.
18. God so keeps me from offending Him, that I am verily amazed
at times. I think I discern the great care He takes of me,
without my taking scarcely any care at all, being as I was,
before these things happened to me, a sea of wickedness and sins,
and without a thought that I was mistress enough of myself to
leave them undone. And the reason why I would have this known is
that the great power of God might be made manifest. Unto Him be
praise for ever and ever! Amen.
Jesus.
This Relation here set forth, not in my handwriting, is one that
I gave to my confessor, and which he with his own hand copied,
without adding or diminishing a word. He was a most spiritual
man and a theologian: I discussed the state of my soul with him,
and he with other learned men, among whom was Father Mancio. [6]
They found nothing in it that is not in perfect agreement with
the holy writings. This makes me calm now, though, while God is
leading me by this way, I feel that it is necessary for me to put
no trust whatever in myself. And so I have always done, though
it is painful enough. You, my father, will be careful that all
this goes under the seal of confession, according to my request.
1. Addressed, it is believed, to her confessor, F. Pedro Ibañez.
This Relation corresponds with ch. xxxiv. of the Life (De
la Fuente).
2. See Life, ch. xxvii.
3. See Life, ch. xxxi. § 15.
4. The Saint is supposed to refer to the troubles she endured
during the foundation of the monastery of St. Joseph.
5. Gal. ii. 20: "Vivo autem, jam non ego; vivit vero in
me Christus."
6. A celebrated Dominican, professor of theology in
Salamanca (Bouix).
Relation III.
Of Various Graces Granted to the Saint from the Year 1568 to
1571 Inclusive.
1. When I was in the monastery of Toledo, and some people were
advising me not to allow any but noble persons to be buried
there, [1] our Lord said to me: "Thou wilt be very inconsistent,
My daughter, if thou regardest the laws of the world. Look at
Me, poor and despised of men: are the great people of the world
likely to be great in My eyes? or is it descent or virtue that is
to make you esteemed?"
2. After Communion, the second day of Lent, in St. Joseph of
Malagon, our Lord Jesus Christ appeared to me in an imaginary
vision, as He is I wont to do; and when I was looking upon Him I
saw that He had on His head, instead of the crown of thorns, a
crown of great splendour, over the part where the wounds of that
crown must have been. And as I have a great devotion to the
crowning with thorns, I was exceedingly consoled, and began to
think how great the pain must have been because of the many
wounds, and to be sorrowful. Our Lord told me not to be sad
because of those wounds, but for the many wounds which men
inflict upon Him now. I asked Him what I could do by way of
reparation; for I was resolved to do anything. He replied: "This
is not the time for rest;" that I must hasten on the foundations,
for He would take His rest with the souls which entered the
monasteries; that I must admit all who offered themselves,
because there were many souls that did not serve Him because they
had no place wherein to do it; that those monasteries which were
to be founded in small towns should be like this; that the merit
of those in them would be as great, if they only desired to do
that which was done in the other houses; that I must contrive to
put them all under the jurisdiction of one superior, [2] and take
care that anxieties about means of bodily maintenance did not
destroy interior peace, for He would help us, so that we should
never be in want of food. Especial care was to be had of the
sick sisters; the prioress who did not provide for and comfort
the sick was like the friends of Job: He sent them sickness for
the good of their souls, and careless superiors risked the
patience of their nuns. I was to write the history of the
foundation of the monasteries. I was thinking how there was
nothing to write about in reference to the foundation of Medina,
when He asked me, what more did I want to see than that the
foundation there was miraculous? By this He meant to say that He
alone had done it, when it seemed impossible. [3] I resolved to
execute His commands.
3. Our Lord told me something I was to tell another, and as I was
considering how I did not understand it at all,--though I prayed
to Him, and was thinking it might be from Satan,--He said to me
that it was not, and that He Himself would warn me when the
time came.
4. Once, when I was thinking how much more purely they live who
withdraw themselves from all business, and how ill it goes with
me, and how many faults I must be guilty of, when I have business
to transact, I heard this: "It cannot be otherwise, My daughter;
but strive thou always after a good intention in all things, and
detachment; lift up thine eyes to Me, and see that all thine
actions may resemble Mine."
5. Thinking how it was that I scarcely ever fell into a trance of
late in public, I heard this: "It is not necessary now; thou art
sufficiently esteemed for My purpose; we are considering the
weakness of the wicked."
6. One Tuesday after the Ascension, [4] having prayed for awhile
after Communion in great distress, because I was so distracted
that I could fix my mind on nothing, I complained of our poor
nature to our Lord. The fire began to kindle in my soul, and I
saw, as it seemed to me, the most Holy Trinity [5] distinctly
present in an intellectual vision, whereby my soul understood
through a certain representation, as a figure of the truth, so
far as my dulness could understand, how God is Three and One; and
thus it seemed to me that all the Three Persons spoke to me, that
They were distinctly present in my soul, saying unto me "that
from that day forth I should see that my soul had grown better in
three ways, and that each one of the Three Persons had bestowed
on me a distinct grace,--in charity, in suffering joyfully, in a
sense of that charity in my soul, accompanied with fervour."
I learnt the meaning of those words of our Lord, that the Three
Divine Persons will dwell in the soul that is in a state of
grace. [6] Afterwards giving thanks to our Lord for so great a
mercy, and finding myself utterly unworthy of it, I asked His
Majesty with great earnestness how it was that He, after showing
such mercies to me, let me go out of His hand, and allowed me to
become so wicked; for on the previous day I had been in great
distress on account of my sins, which I had set before me. I saw
clearly then how much our Lord on His part had done, ever since
my infancy, to draw me to Himself by means most effectual, and
yet, that all had failed. Then I had a clear perception of the
surpassing love of God for us, in that He forgives us all this
when we turn to Him, and for me more than for any other, for many
reasons. The vision of the Three Divine Persons--one God--made
so profound an impression on my soul, that if it had continued it
would have been impossible for me not to be recollected in so
divine a company. What I saw and heard besides is beyond my
power to describe.
7. Once, when I was about to communicate,--it was shortly before
I had this vision,--the Host being still in the ciborium, for It
had not yet been given me, I saw something like a dove, which
moved its wings with a sound. It disturbed me so much, and so
carried me away out of myself, that it was with the utmost
difficulty I received the Host. All this took place in
St. Joseph of Avila. It was Father Francis Salcedo who was
giving me the most Holy Sacrament. Hearing Mass another day, I
saw our Lord glorious in the Host; He said to me that his
sacrifice was acceptable unto Him.
8. I heard this once: "The time will come when many miracles will
be wrought in this church; it will be called the holy church."
It was in St. Joseph of Avila, in the year 1571.
9. I retain to this day, which is the Commemoration of St. Paul,
the presence of the Three Persons of which I spoke in the
beginning; [7] they are present almost continually in my soul.
I, being accustomed to the presence of Jesus Christ only, always
thought that the vision of the Three Persons was in some degree a
hindrance, though I know the Three Persons are but One God.
To-day, while thinking of this, our Lord said to me "that I was
wrong in imagining that those things which are peculiar to the
soul can be represented by those of the body; I was to understand
that they were very different, and that the soul had a capacity
for great fruition." It seemed to me as if this were shown to me
thus: as water penetrates and is drunk in by the sponge, so, it
seemed to me, did the Divinity fill my soul, which in a certain
sense had the fruition and possession of the Three Persons. And
I heard Him say also: "Labour thou not to hold Me within thyself
enclosed, but enclose thou thyself within Me." It seemed to me
that I saw the Three Persons within my soul, and communicating
Themselves to all creatures abundantly without ceasing to be
with me.
10. A few days after this, thinking whether they were right who
disapproved of my going out to make new foundations, and whether
it would not be better for me if I occupied myself always with
prayer, I heard this: "During this life, the true gain consists
not in striving after greater joy in Me, but in doing My will."
It seemed to me, considering what St. Paul says about women, how
they should stay at home, [8]--people reminded me lately of this,
and, indeed, I had heard it before,--it might be the will of God
I should do so too. He said to me: "Tell them they are not to
follow one part of the Scripture by itself, without looking to
the other parts also; perhaps, if they could, they would like to
tie My hands."
11. One day after the octave of the Visitation, in one of the
hermitages of Mount Carmel, praying to God for one of my
brothers, I said to our Lord,--I do not know whether it was only
in thought or not, for my brother was in a place where his
salvation was in peril,--"If I saw one of Thy brethren, O Lord,
in this danger, what would I not do to help him!" It seemed to
me there was nothing that I could do which I would not have done.
Our Lord said to me: "O daughter, daughter! the nuns of the
Incarnation are thy sisters, and thou holdest back.
Take courage, then. Behold, this is what I would have thee do:
it is not so difficult as it seems; and though it seems to thee
that by going thither thy foundations will be ruined, yet it is
by thy going that both these and the monastery of the Incarnation
will gain; resist not, for My power is great." [9]
12. Once, when thinking of the great penance practised by Doña
Catalina de Cardona, [10] and how I might have done more,
considering the desires which our Lord had given me at times, if
it had not been for my obedience to my confessors, I asked myself
whether it would not be as well if I disobeyed them for the
future in this matter. Our Lord said to me: "No, My daughter;
thou art on the sound and safe road. Seest thou all her penance?
I think more of thy obedience."
13. Once, when I was in prayer, He showed me by a certain kind of
intellectual vision the condition of a soul in a state of grace:
in its company I saw by intellectual vision the most Holy
Trinity, from whose companionship the soul derived a power which
was a dominion over the whole earth. I understood the meaning of
those words in the Canticle: "Let my Beloved come into His garden
and eat." [11] He showed me also the condition of a soul in sin,
utterly powerless, like a person tied and bound and blindfold,
who, though anxious to see, yet cannot, being unable to walk or
to hear, and in grievous obscurity. I was so exceedingly sorry
for such souls, that, to deliver only one, any trouble seemed to
me light. I thought it impossible for any one who saw this as I
saw it,--and I can hardly explain it,--willingly to forfeit so
great a good or continue in so evil a state.
14. One day, in very great distress about the state of the Order,
and casting about for means to succour it, our Lord said to me:
"Do thou what is in thy power, and leave Me to Myself, and be not
disquieted by anything; rejoice in the blessing thou hast
received, for it is a very great one. My Father is pleased with
thee, and the Holy Ghost loves thee."
15. "Thou art ever desiring trials, and, on the other hand,
declining them. I order things according to what I know thy will
is, and not according to thy sensuality and weakness. Be strong,
for thou seest how I help thee; I have wished thee to gain this
crown. Thou shalt see the Order of the Virgin greatly advanced in
thy days." I heard this from our Lord about the middle of
February, 1571.
16. On the eve of St. Sebastian, the first year of my being in
the monastery of the Incarnation [12] as prioress there, at the
beginning of the Salve, I saw the Mother of God descend with a
multitude of angels to the stall of the prioress, where the image
of our Lady is, and sit there herself. I think I did not see the
image then, but only our Lady. She seemed to be like that
picture of her which the Countess [13] gave me; but I had no time
to ascertain this, because I fell at once into a trance.
Multitudes of angels seemed to me to be above the canopies of the
stalls, and on the desks in front of them; but I saw no bodily
forms, for the vision was intellectual. She remained there
during the Salve, and said to me: "Thou hast done well to place
me here; I will be present when the sisters sing the praises of
my Son, and will offer them to Him." After this I remained in
that prayer which I still practise, and which is that of keeping
my soul in the company of the most Holy Trinity; and it seemed to
me that the Person of the Father drew me to Himself, and spoke to
me most comfortable words. Among them were these, while showing
how He loved me: "I give thee My Son, and the Holy Ghost, and the
Virgin: what canst thou give Me?" [14]
17. On the octave of the Holy Ghost, our Lord was gracious unto
me, and gave me hopes of this house, [15] that it would go on
improving--I mean the souls that are in it.
18. On the feast of the Magdalene, our Lord again confirmed a
grace I had received in Toledo, electing me, in the absence of a
certain person, in her place.
19. In the monastery of the Incarnation, and in the second year
of my being prioress there, on the octave of St. Martin, when I
was going to Communion, the Father, Fr. John of the
Cross, [16]--divided the Host between me and another sister.
I thought it was done, not because there was any want of Hosts,
but that he wished to mortify me because I had told him how much
I delighted in Hosts of a large size. Yet I was not ignorant
that the size of the Host is of no moment; for I knew that our
Lord is whole and entire in the smallest particle. His Majesty
said to me: "Have no fear, My daughter; for no one will be able
to separate thee from Me,"--giving me to understand that the size
of the Host mattered not.
20. Then appearing to me, as on other occasions, in an imaginary
vision, most interiorly, He held out His right hand and said:
"Behold this nail! it is the pledge of thy being My bride from
this day forth. Until now thou hadst not merited it; from
henceforth thou shalt regard My honour, not only as of one who is
Thy Creator, King, and God, but as thine, My veritable bride; My
honour is thine, and thine is Mine." This grace had such an
effect on me, that I could not contain myself: I became as one
that is foolish, and said to our Lord: "Either ennoble my
vileness or cease to bestow such mercies on me, for certainly I
do not think that nature can bear them." I remained thus the
whole day, as one utterly beside herself. Afterwards I became
conscious of great progress, and greater shame and distress to
see that I did nothing in return for graces so great.
21. Our Lord said this to me one day: "Thinkest thou, My
daughter, that meriting lies in fruition? No; merit lies only in
doing, in suffering, and in loving. You never heard that
St. Paul had the fruition of heavenly joys more than once; while
he was often in sufferings. [17] Thou seest how My whole life
was full of dolors, and only on Mount Tabor hast thou heard of Me
in glory. [18] Do not suppose, when thou seest My Mother hold Me
in her arms, that she had that joy unmixed with heavy sorrows.
From the time that Simeon spoke to her, My Father made her see in
clear light all I had to suffer. The grand Saints of the desert,
as they were led by God, so also did they undergo heavy penances;
besides, they waged serious war with the devil and with
themselves, and much of their time passed away without any
spiritual consolation whatever. Believe Me, My daughter, his
trials are the heaviest whom My Father loves most; trials are the
measure of His love. How can I show My love for thee better than
by desiring for thee what I desired for Myself? Consider My
wounds; thy pains will never reach to them. This is the way of
truth; thus shalt thou help Me to weep over the ruin of those who
are in the world, for thou knowest how all their desires,
anxieties, and thoughts tend the other way." When I began my
prayer that day, my headache was so violent that I thought I
could not possibly go on. Our Lord said to me: "Behold now, the
reward of suffering. As thou, on account of thy health, wert
unable to speak to Me, I spoke to thee and comforted thee."
Certainly, so it was; for the time of my recollection lasted
about an hour and a half, more or less. It was then that He
spoke to me the words I have just related, together with all the
others. I was not able to distract myself, neither knew I where
I was; my joy was so great as to be indescribable; my headache
was gone, and I was amazed, and I had a longing for suffering.
He also told me to keep in mind the words He said to His
Apostles: "The servant is not greater than his Lord." [19]
1. Alonzo Ramirez wished to have the right of burial in the new
monastery, but the nobles of Toledo looked on his request as
unreasonable. See Foundations, chs. xv. and xvi.
2. See Way of Perfection, ch. viii.; but ch. v. of the
previous editions.
3. See Book of the Foundations, ch. iii.
4. In the copy kept in Toledo, the day is Tuesday after the
Assumption (De la Fuente).
5. Ch. xxvii. § 10.
6. St. John xiv. 23: "Ad eum veniemus, et mansionem apud
eum faciemus."
7. See § 6.
8. Titus ii. 5: "Sobrias, domus curam habentes."
9. This took place in 1571, when the Saint had been appointed
prioress of the monastery of the Incarnation at Avila; the very
house she had left in order to found that of St. Joseph, to keep
the rule in its integrity.
10. See Book of the Foundations, ch. xxviii.
11. Cant. v. 1: "Veniat dilectus meus in hortum suum,
et comedat."
12. A.D. 1572.
13. Maria de Velasco y Aragon, Countess of Osorno (Ribera,
lib. iii. c. 1).
14. See Relation iv. § 2.
15. The monastery of the Incarnation, Avila (De la Fuente).
16. St. John of the Cross, at the instance of the Saint, was sent
to Avila, with another father of the reformed Carmelites, to be
confessor of the nuns of the Incarnation, who then disliked the
observance of the primitive rule.
17. 2 Cor. xi. 27: "In labore et ærumna, in vigiliis multis."
18. St. Matt. xvii. 2: "Et transfiguratus est ante eos."
19. St. John xiii. 16: "Non est servus major domino suo."
Relation IV.
Of the Graces the Saint Received in Salamanca at the End of
Lent, 1571.
1. I found myself the whole of yesterday in great desolation,
and, except at Communion, did not feel that it was the day of the
Resurrection. Last night, being with the community, I heard
one [1] of them singing how hard it is to be living away from
God. As I was then suffering, the effect of that singing on me
was such that a numbness began in my hands, and no efforts of
mine could hinder it; but as I go out of myself in raptures of
joy, so then my soul was thrown into a trance through the
excessive pain, and remained entranced; and until this day I had
not felt this. A few days previously I thought that the vehement
impulses were not so great as they used to be, and now it seems
to be that the reason is what I have described; I know not if it
is so. Hitherto the pain had not gone so far as to make me
beside myself; and as it is so unendurable, and as I retained the
control of my senses, it made me utter loud cries beyond my power
to restrain. Now that it has grown, it has reached this point of
piercing me; and I understand more of that piercing which our
Lady suffered; for until to-day, as I have just said, I never
knew what that piercing was. My body was so bruised, that I
suffer even now when I am writing this; for my hands are as if
the joints were loosed, and in pain. [2] You, my father, will
tell me when you see me whether this trance be the effect of
suffering, or whether I felt it, or whether I am deceived.
2. I was in this great pain till this morning; and, being in
prayer, I fell into a profound trance; and it seemed to me that
our Lord had taken me up in spirit to His Father, and said to
Him: "Whom Thou hast given to Me, I give to Thee;" [3] and He
seemed to draw me near to Himself. This is not an imaginary
vision, but one most certain, and so spiritually subtile that it
cannot be explained. He spoke certain words to me which I do not
remember. Some of them referred to His grace, which He bestows
on me. He kept me by Him for some time.
3. As you, my father, went away yesterday so soon, and I consider
the many affairs which detain you, so that it is impossible for
me to have recourse to you for comfort even when necessary,--for
I see that your occupations are most urgent,--I was for some time
in pain and sadness. As I was then in desolation,--as I said
before,--that helped me; and as nothing on earth, I thought, had
any attractions for me, I had a scruple, and feared I was
beginning to lose that liberty. This took place last night; and
to-day our Lord answered my doubt, and said to me "that I was not
to be surprised; for as men seek for companions with whom they
may speak of their sensual satisfactions, so the soul--when there
is any one who understands it--seeks those to whom it may
communicate its pleasures and its pains, and is sad and mourns
when it can find none." He said to me: "Thou art prosperous now,
and thy works please Me." As He remained with me for some time,
I remembered that I had told you, my father, that these visions
pass quickly away; He said to me "that there was a difference
between these and the imaginary visions, and that there could not
be an invariable law concerning the graces He bestowed on us; for
it was expedient to give them now in one way, now in another."
4. After Communion, I saw our Lord most distinctly close beside
me; and He began to comfort me with great sweetness, and said to
me, among other things: "Thou beholdest Me present, My
daughter,--it is I. Show me thy hands." And to me He seemed to
take them and to put them to His side, and said: "Behold My
wounds; thou art not without Me. Finish the short course of thy
life." By some things He said to me, I understood that, after
His Ascension, He never came down to the earth except in the most
Holy Sacrament to communicate Himself to any one. He said to me,
that when He rose again He showed Himself to our Lady, because
she was in great trouble; for sorrow had so pierced her soul that
she did not even recover herself at once in order to have the
fruition of that joy. By this I saw how different was my
piercing. [4] But what must that of the Virgin have been?
He remained long with her then because it was necessary to
console her.
5. On Palm Sunday, at Communion, I was in a deep trance,--so much
so, that I was not able even to swallow the Host; and, still
having It in my mouth, when I had come a little to myself, I
verily believed that my mouth was all filled with Blood; and my
face and my whole body seemed to be covered with It, as if our
Lord had been shedding It at that moment. I thought It was warm,
and the sweetness I then felt was exceedingly great; and our Lord
said to me: "Daughter, My will is that My Blood should profit
thee; and be not thou afraid that My compassion will fail thee.
I shed It in much suffering, and, as thou seest, thou hast the
fruition of It in great joy. I reward thee well for the pleasure
thou gavest me to-day." He said this because I have been in the
habit of going to Communion, if possible, on this day for more
than thirty years, and of labouring to prepare my soul to be the
host of our Lord; for I considered the cruelty of the Jews to be
very great, after giving Him so grand a reception, in letting Him
go so far for supper; and I used to picture Him as remaining with
me, and truly in a poor lodging, as I see now. And thus I used
to have such foolish thoughts--they must have been acceptable to
our Lord, for this was one of the visions which I regard as most
certain; and, accordingly it has been a great blessing to me in
the matter of Communion.
6. Previous to this, I had been, I believe, for three days in
that great pain, which I feel sometimes more than at others,
because I am away from God; and during those days it had been
very great, and seemingly more than I could bear. Being thus
exceedingly wearied by it, I saw it was late to take my
collation, nor could I do so,--for if I do not take it a little
earlier, it occasions great weakness because of my sickness; and
then, doing violence to myself, I took up some bread to prepare
for collation, and on the instant Christ appeared, and seemed to
be breaking the bread and putting it into my mouth. He said to
me: "Eat, My daughter, and bear it as well as thou canst.
I condole with thee in thy suffering; but it is good for thee
now." My pain was gone, and I was comforted; for He seemed to be
really with me then, and the whole of the next day; and with this
my desires were then satisfied. The word "condole" made me
strong; for now I do not think I am suffering at all.
1. Isabel of Jesus, born in Segovia, and whose family name was
Jimena, told Ribera (vide lib. iv. c. v.) that she was the
singer, being then a novice in Salamanca.
2. See Fortress of the Soul, vi. ch. xi.
3. See Relation, iii. § 16.
4. See above, § 1.
Relation V.
Observations on Certain Points of Spirituality.
1. "What is it that distresses thee, little sinner? Am I not thy
God? Dost thou not see how ill I am treated here? If thou
lovest Me, why art thou not sorry for Me? Daughter, light is
very different from darkness. I am faithful; no one will be lost
without knowing it. He must be deceiving himself who relies on
spiritual sweetnesses; the true safety lies in the witness of a
good conscience. [1] But let no one think that of himself he can
abide in the light, any more than he can hinder the natural night
from coming on; for that depends on My grace. The best means he
can have for retaining the light is the conviction in his soul
that he can do nothing of himself, and that it comes from Me;
for, even if he were in the light, the instant I withdraw, night
will come. True humility is this: the soul's knowing what itself
can do, and what I can do. Do not neglect to write down the
counsels I give thee, that thou mayest not forget them.
Thou seekest to have the counsels of men in writing; why, then,
thinkest thou that thou art wasting time in writing down those I
give thee? The time will come when thou shalt require them all."
On Union.
2. "Do not suppose, My daughter, that to be near to Me is union;
for they who sin against Me are near Me, though they do not wish
it. Nor is union the joys and comforts of union, [2] though they
be of the very highest kind, and though they come from Me.
These very often are means of winning souls, even if they are not
in a state of grace." When I heard this, I was in a high degree
lifted up in spirit. Our Lord showed me what the spirit was, and
what the state of the soul was then, and the meaning of those
words of the Magnificat, "Exultavit spiritus meus." He showed me
that the spirit was the higher part of the will.
3. To return to union; I understood it to be a spirit, pure and
raised up above all the things of earth, with nothing remaining
in it that would swerve from the will of God, being a spirit and
a will resigned to His will, and in detachment from all things,
occupied in God in such a way as to leave no trace of any love of
self, or of any created thing whatever. [3] Thereupon, I
considered that, if this be union, it comes to this, that, as my
soul is always abiding in this resolution, we can say of it that
it is always in this prayer of union: and yet it is true that the
union lasts but a very short time. It was suggested to me that,
as to living in justice, meriting and making progress, it will be
so; but it cannot be said that the soul is in union as it is when
in contemplation; and I thought I understood, yet not by words
heard, that the dust of our wretchedness, faults, and
imperfections, wherein we bury ourselves, is so great, that it is
not possible to live in such pureness as the spirit is in when in
union with God, raised up and out of our wretched misery. And I
think, if it be union to have our will and spirit in union with
the will and Spirit of God, that it is not possible for any one
not in a state of grace to attain thereto; and I have been told
so. Accordingly, I believe it is very difficult to know when the
soul is in union; to have that knowledge is a special grace of
God, because nobody can tell whether he is in a state of grace
or not. [4]
4. You will show me in writing, my father, what you think of
this, and how I am in the wrong, and send me this paper back.
5. I had read in a book that it was an imperfection to possess
pictures well painted,--and I would not, therefore, retain in my
cell one that I had; and also, before I had read this, I thought
that it was poverty to possess none, except those made of
paper,--and, as I read this afterwards, I would not have any of
any other material. I learnt from our Lord, when I was not
thinking at all about this, what I am going to say: "that this
mortification was not right. Which is better, poverty or
charity? But as love was the better, whatever kindled love in
me, that I must not give up, nor take away from my nuns; for the
book spoke of much adorning and curious devices--not of
pictures. [5] What Satan was doing among the Lutherans was the
taking away from them all those means by which their love might
be the more quickened; and thus they were going to perdition.
Those who are loyal to Me, My daughter, must now, more than ever,
do the very reverse of what they do." I understood that I was
under great obligations to serve our Lady and St. Joseph,
because, when I was utterly lost, God, through their prayers,
came and saved me.
6. One day, after the feast of St. Matthew, [6] I was as is usual
with me, after seeing in a vision the most Holy Trinity, and how
It is present in a soul in a state of grace. [7] I understood
the mystery most clearly, in such a way that, after a certain
fashion and comparisons, I saw It in an imaginary vision.
And though at other times I have seen the most Holy Trinity in an
intellectual vision, for some days after the truth of it did not
rest with me,--as it does now,--I mean, so that I could dwell
upon it. I see now that it is just as learned men told me; and I
did not understand it as I do now, though I believed them without
the least hesitation; for I never had any temptations against
the faith.
7. It seems to us ignorant women that the Persons of the most
Holy Trinity are all Three, as we see Them painted, in one
Person, after the manner of those pictures, which represent a
body with three faces; and thus it causes such astonishment in us
that we look on it as impossible, and so there is nobody who
dares to think of it; for the understanding is perplexed, is
afraid it may come to doubt the truth, and that robs us of a
great blessing.
8. What I have seen is this: Three distinct Persons each one by
Himself visible, and by Himself speaking. [8] And afterwards I
have been thinking that the Son alone took human flesh, whereby
this truth is known. The Persons love, communicate, and know
Themselves. Then, if each one is by Himself, how can we say that
the Three are one Essence, and so believe? That is a most deep
truth, and I would die for it a thousand times. In the Three
Persons there is but one will and one power and one might;
neither can One be without Another: so that of all created things
there is but one sole Creator. Could the Son create an ant
without the Father? No; because the power is all one. The same
is to be said of the Holy Ghost. Thus, there is one God
Almighty, and the Three Persons are one Majesty. Is it possible
to love the Father without loving the Son and the Holy Ghost?
No; for he who shall please One of the Three pleases the Three
Persons; and he who shall offend One offends All. Can the Father
be without the Son and without the Holy Ghost? No; for They are
one substance, and where One is there are the Three; for they
cannot be divided. How, then, is it that we see the Three
Persons distinct? and how is it that the Son, not the Father, nor
the Holy Ghost, took human flesh? This is what I have never
understood; theologians know it. I know well that the Three were
there when that marvellous work was done, and I do not busy
myself with much thinking thereon. All my thinking thereon comes
at once to this: that I see God is almighty, that He has done
what He would, and so can do what He will. The less I understand
it, the more I believe it, and the greater the devotion it
excites in me. May He be blessed for ever! Amen.
9. If our Lord had not been so gracious with me as He has been, I
do not think I should have had the courage to do what has been
done, nor strength to undergo the labours endured, with the
contradictions and the opinions of men. And accordingly, since
the beginning of the foundations, I have lost the fears I
formerly had, thinking that I was under delusions,--and I had a
conviction that it was the work of God: having this, I ventured
upon difficult things, though always with advice and under
obedience. I see in this that when our Lord willed to make a
beginning of the Order, and of His mercy made use of me, His
Majesty had to supply all that I was deficient in, which was
everything, in order that the work might be effected, and that
His greatness might be the more clearly revealed in one
so wicked.
10. Antiochus was unendurable to himself, and to those who were
about him, because of the stench of his many sins. [9]
11. Confession is for faults and sins, and not for virtues, nor
for anything of the kind relating to prayer. These things are to
be treated of out of confession with one who understands the
matter,--and let the prioress see to this; and the nun must
explain the straits she is in, in order that the proper helps may
be found for her; for Cassian says that he who does not know the
fact, as well as he who has never seen or learnt, that men can
swim, will think, when he sees people throw themselves into the
river, that they will all be drowned. [10]
12. Our Lord would have Joseph tell the vision to his brethren,
and have it known, though it was to cost Joseph so much.
13. How the soul has a sense of fear when God is about to bestow
any great grace upon it; that sense is the worship of the spirit,
as that of the four [11] elders spoken of in Scripture.
14. How, when the faculties are suspended, it is to be understood
that certain matters are suggested to the soul, to be by it
recommended to God; that an angel suggests them, of whom it is
said in the Scriptures that he was burning incense and offering
up the prayers of the saints. [12]
15. How there are no sins where there is no knowledge; and thus
our Lord did not permit the king to sin with the wife of
Abraham, for he thought that she was his sister, not his wife.
1. 2 Cor. i. 12: "Gloria nostra hæc est, testimonium
conscientiæ nostræ."
2. See St. John of the Cross, Mount Carmel, bk. ii. ch. v.
3. See Foundations, ch. v. § 10.
4. Eccl. ix. 1: "Nescit homo utrum amore an odio dignus sit."
5. See St. John of the Cross, Mount Carmel, bk. iii. ch. xxxiv.
6. The §§ 6, 7, and 8 are the thirteenth letter of the second
volume, ed. Doblado.
7. See Relation iii. § 13.
8. Anton. a Sancto Joseph, in his notes on this passage, is
anxious to save the Thomist doctrine that one of the Divine
Persons cannot be seen without the other, and so he says that the
Saint speaks of the Three Persons as she saw Them--not as They
are in Themselves.
9. 2 Maccab. ix. 10, 12: "Eum nemo poterat propter intolerantiam
foetoris portare, . . . . nec ipse jam foetorem suum
ferre posset."
10. Cassian, Collat. vii. cap. iv. p. 311: "Nec enim si quis
ignarus natandi, sciens pondus corporis sui ferre aquarum
liquorem non posse, experimento suæ voluerit imperitiæ definire,
neminem penitus posse liquidis elementis solida carne
circumdatum sustineri."
11. Anton. a Sancto Joseph says that the Saint meant to write
four-and-twenty, in allusion to Apoc. iv. 4.
12. Apoc. viii. 4.
Relation VI.
The Vow of Obedience to Father Gratian Which the Saint Made
in 1575.
1. In the year 1575, in the month of April, when I was founding
the monastery of Veas, Fra Jerome of the Mother of God Gratian
happened to come thither. [1] I began to go to confession to him
from time to time, though not looking upon him as filling the
place of the other confessors I had, so as to be wholly directed
by him. One day, when I was taking food, but without any
interior recollection whatever, my soul began to be recollected
in such a way that I thought I must fall into a trance; and I had
a vision, that passed away with the usual swiftness, like a
meteor. I seemed to see close beside me Jesus Christ our Lord,
in the form wherein His Majesty is wont to reveal Himself, with
F. Gratian on His right. Our Lord took his right hand and mine,
and, joining them together, said to me that He would have me
accept him in His place for my whole life, and that we were both
to have one mind in all things, for so it was fitting. I was
profoundly convinced that this was the work of God, though I
remembered with regret two of my confessors whom I frequented in
turn for a long time, and to whom I owed much; that one for whom
I have a great affection especially caused a terrible resistance.
Nevertheless, not being able to persuade myself that the vision
was a delusion, because it had a great power and influence over
me, and also because it was said to me on two other occasions
that I was not to be afraid, that He wished this,--the words were
different,--I made up my mind at last to act upon them,
understanding it to be our Lord's will, and to follow that
counsel so long as I should live. I had never before so acted
with any one, though I had consulted many persons of great
learning and holiness, and who watched over my soul with great
care,--but neither had I received any such direction as that I
should make no change; for as to my confessors, of some I
understood that they would be profitable to me, and so also
of these.
2. When I had resolved on this, I found myself in peace and
comfort so great that I was amazed, and assured of our Lord's
will; for I do not think that Satan could fill the soul with
peace and comfort such as this: and so, whenever I think of it, I
praise our Lord, and remember the words, "posuit fines tuos
pacem," [2] and I wish I could wear myself out in the praises
of God.
3. It must have been about a month after this my resolve was
made, on the second day after Pentecost, when I was going to
found the monastery in Seville, that we heard Mass in a hermitage
in Ecija, and rested there during the hottest part of the day.
Those who were with me remained in the hermitage while I was by
myself in the sacristy belonging to it. I began to think of one
great grace which I received of the Holy Ghost, on one of the
vigils of His feast, [3] and a great desire arose within me of
doing Him some most special service, and I found nothing that was
not already done,--at least, resolved upon,--for all I do must be
faulty; and I remembered that, though I had already made a vow of
obedience, it might be made in greater perfection, and I had an
impression it would be pleasing unto Him if I promised that which
I was already resolved upon, to live under obedience to the
Father-Master, Fr. Jerome. On the other hand, I seemed to be
doing nothing, because I was already bent on doing it; on the
other hand, it would be a very serious thing, considering that
our interior state is not made known to the superiors who receive
our vows, and that they change, and that, if one is not doing his
work well, another comes in his place; and I believed I should
have none of my liberty all my life long, either outwardly or
inwardly, and this constrained me greatly to abstain from making
the vow. This repugnance of the will made me ashamed, and I saw
that, now I had something I could do for God, I was not doing it;
it was a sad thing for my resolution to serve Him. The fact is,
that the objection so pressed me, that I do not think I ever did
anything in my life that was so hard--not even my
profession--unless it be that of my leaving my father's house to
become a nun. [4] The reason of this was that I had forgotten my
affection for him, and his gifts for directing me; yea, rather, I
was looking on it then as a strange thing, which has surprised
me; feeling nothing but a great fear whether the vow would be for
the service of God or not: and my natural self--which is fond of
liberty--must have been doing its work, though for years now I
have no pleasure in it. But it seemed to me a far other matter
to give up that liberty by a vow, as in truth it is. After a
protracted struggle, our Lord gave me great confidence; and I saw
it was the better course, the more I felt about it: if I made
this promise in honour of the Holy Ghost, He would be bound to
give him light for the direction of my soul; and I remembered at
the same time that our Lord had given him to me as my guide.
Thereupon I fell upon my knees, and, to render this tribute of
service to the Holy Ghost, made a promise to do whatever he
should bid me do while I lived, provided nothing were required of
me contrary to the law of God and the commands of superiors whom
I am more bound to obey. I adverted to this, that the obligation
did not extend to things of little importance,--as if I were to
be importunate with him about anything, and he bade me cease, and
I neglected his advice and repeated my request,--nor to things
relating to my convenience. In a word, his commands were not to
be about trifles, done without reflection; and I was not
knowingly to conceal from him my faults and sins, or my interior
state; and this, too, is more than we allow to superiors. In a
word, I promised to regard him as in the place of God, outwardly
and inwardly. I know not if it be so, but I seemed to have done
a great thing in honour of the Holy Ghost--at least, it was all I
could do, and very little it was in comparison with what I
owe Him.
4. I give God thanks, who has created one capable of this work: I
have the greatest confidence that His Majesty will bestow on him
great graces; and I myself am so happy and joyous, that I seem to
be in every way free from myself; and though I thought that my
obedience would be a burden, I have attained to the
greatest freedom. May our Lord be praised for ever!
1. See Foundations, ch. xxii.
2. Psalm cxlvii. 14: "He hath made thy borders peace."
3. Perhaps the Saint refers to what she has written in her Life,
ch. xxxviii. §§ 11, 12.
4. Life, ch. iv. § 1.
Relation VII.
Made for Rodrigo Alvarez, S.J., in the Year 1575, According to
Don Vicente de la Fuente; but in 1576, According to the
Bollandists and F. Bouix.
1. This nun took the habit forty years ago, and from the first
began to reflect on the mysteries of the Passion of Christ our
Lord, and on her own sins, for some time every day, without
thinking at all of anything supernatural, but only of created
things, or of such subjects as suggested to her how soon the end
of all things must come, discerning in creatures the greatness of
God and His love for us.
2. This made her much more willing to serve Him: she was never
under the influence of fear, and made no account of it, but had
always a great desire to see God honoured, and His glory
increased. To that end were all her prayers directed, without
making any for herself; for she thought that it mattered little
if she had to suffer in purgatory in exchange for the increase of
His glory even in the slightest degree.
3. In this she spent about two-and-twenty years in great
aridities, and never did it enter into her thoughts to desire
anything else; for she regarded herself as one who, she thought,
did not deserve even to think about God, except that His Majesty
was very merciful to her in allowing her to remain in His
presence, saying her prayers, reading also in good books.
4. It must be about eighteen years since she began to arrange
about the first monastery of Barefooted Carmelites which she
founded. It was in Avila, three or two years before,--I believe
it is three,--she began to think that she occasionally heard
interior locutions, and had visions and revelations interiorly.
She saw with the eyes of the soul, for she never saw anything
with her bodily eyes, nor heard anything with her bodily ears;
twice, she thinks, she heard a voice, but she understood not what
was said. It was a sort of making things present when she saw
these things interiorly; they passed away like a meteor most
frequently. The vision, however, remained so impressed on her
mind, and produced such effects, that it was as if she saw those
things with her bodily eyes, and more.