Life of St Teresa of Jesus by Teresa of Avila (paper ebook reader .TXT) 📖

he was somewhat better, and

the physicians said so, he gave no heed to them, but employed

himself in the ordering of his soul.

24. His chief suffering consisted in a most acute pain of the

shoulders, which never left him: it was so sharp at times, that

it put him into great torture. I said to him, that as he had so

great a devotion to our Lord carrying His cross on His shoulders,

he should now think that His Majesty wished him to feel somewhat

of that pain which He then suffered Himself. This so comforted

him, that I do not think I heard him complain afterwards.

25. He remained three days without consciousness; but on the day

he died, our Lord restored him so completely, that we were

astonished: he preserved his understanding to the last; for in

the middle of the creed, which he repeated himself, he died.

He lay there like an angel—such he seemed to me, if I may say

so, both in soul and disposition: he was very good.

26. I know not why I have said this, unless it be for the purpose

of showing how much the more I am to be blamed for my wickedness;

for after seeing such a death, and knowing what his life had

been, I, in order to be in any wise like unto such a father,

ought to have grown better. His confessor, a most learned

Dominican, [15] used to say that he had no doubt he went straight

to heaven. [16] He had heard his confession for some years, and

spoke with praise of the purity of his conscience.

27. This Dominican father, who was a very good man, fearing God,

did me a very great service; for I confessed to him. He took

upon himself the task of helping my soul in earnest, and of

making me see the perilous state I was in. [17] He sent me to

Communion once a fortnight; [18] and I, by degrees beginning to

speak to him, told him about my prayer. He charged me never to

omit it: that, anyhow, it could not do me anything but good.

I began to return to it—though I did not cut off the occasions

of sin—and never afterwards gave it up. My life became most

wretched, because I learned in prayer more and more of my faults.

On one side, God was calling me; on the other, I was following

the world. All the things of God gave me great pleasure; and I

was a prisoner to the things of the world. It seemed as if I

wished to reconcile two contradictions, so much at variance one

with another as are the life of the spirit and the joys and

pleasures and amusements of sense. [19]

28. I suffered much in prayer; for the spirit was slave, and not

master; and so I was not able to shut myself up within

myself—that was my whole method of prayer—without shutting up

with me a thousand vanities at the same time. I spent many years

in this way; and I am now astonished that any one could have

borne it without abandoning either the one or the other. I know

well that it was not in my power then to give up prayer, because

He held me in His hand Who sought me that He might show me

greater mercies.

29. O my God! if I might, I would speak of the occasions from

which God delivered me, and how I threw myself into them again;

and of the risks I ran of losing utterly my good name, from which

He delivered me. I did things to show what I was; and our Lord

hid the evil, and revealed some little virtue—if so be I had

any—and made it great in the eyes of all, so that they always

held me in much honour. For although my follies came

occasionally into light, people would not believe it when they

saw other things, which they thought good. The reason is, that

He Who knoweth all things saw it was necessary it should be so,

in order that I might have some credit given me by those to whom

in after years I was to speak of His service. His supreme

munificence regarded not my great sins, but rather the desires I

frequently had to please Him, and the pain I felt because I had

not the strength to bring those desires to good effect.

30. O Lord of my soul! how shall I be able to magnify the graces

which Thou, in those years, didst bestow upon me? Oh, how, at

the very time that I offended Thee most, Thou didst prepare me in

a moment, by a most profound compunction, to taste of the

sweetness of Thy consolations and mercies! In truth, O my King,

Thou didst administer to me the most delicate and painful

chastisement it was possible for me to bear; for Thou knewest

well what would have given me the most pain. Thou didst chastise

my sins with great consolations. I do not believe I am saying

foolish things, though it may well be that I am beside myself

whenever I call to mind my ingratitude and my wickedness.

31. It was more painful for me, in the state I was in, to receive

graces, when I had fallen into grievous faults, than it would

have been to receive chastisement; for one of those faults, I am

sure, used to bring me low, shame and distress me, more than many

diseases, together with many heavy trials, could have done.

For, as to the latter, I saw that I deserved them; and it seemed

to me that by them I was making some reparation for my sins,

though it was but slight, for my sins are so many. But when I

see myself receive graces anew, after being so ungrateful for

those already received, that is to me—and, I believe, to all who

have any knowledge or love of God—a fearful kind of torment. We

may see how true this is by considering what a virtuous mind must

be. Hence my tears and vexation when I reflected on what I felt,

seeing myself in a condition to fall at every moment, though my

resolutions and desires then—I am speaking of that

time—were strong.

32. It is a great evil for a soul to be alone in the midst of

such great dangers; it seems to me that if I had had any one with

whom I could have spoken of all this, it might have helped me not

to fall. I might, at least, have been ashamed before him—and

yet I was not ashamed before God.

33. For this reason, I would advise those who give themselves to

prayer, particularly at first, to form friendships; and converse

familiarly, with others who are doing the same thing. It is a

matter of the last importance, even if it lead only to helping

one another by prayer: how much more, seeing that it has led to

much greater gain! Now, if in their intercourse one with

another, and in the indulgence of human affections even not of

the best kind, men seek friends with whom they may refresh

themselves, and for the purpose of having greater satisfaction in

speaking of their empty joys, I know no reason why it should not

be lawful for him who is beginning to love and serve God in

earnest to confide to another his joys and sorrows; for they who

are given to prayer are thoroughly accustomed to both.

34. For if that friendship with God which he desires be real, let

him not be afraid of vain-glory; and if the first movements

thereof assail him, he will escape from it with merit; and I

believe that he who will discuss the matter with this intention

will profit both himself and those who hear him, and thus will

derive more light for his own understanding, as well as for the

instruction of his friends. He who in discussing his method of

prayer falls into vain-glory will do so also when he hears Mass

devoutly, if he is seen of men, and in doing other good works,

which must be done under pain of being no Christian; and yet

these things must not be omitted through fear of vain-glory.

35. Moreover, it is a most important matter for those souls who

are not strong in virtue; for they have so many people, enemies

as well as friends, to urge them the wrong way, that I do not see

how this point is capable of exaggeration. It seems to me that

Satan has employed this artifice—and it is of the greatest

service to him—namely, that men who really wish to love and

please God should hide the fact, while others, at his suggestion,

make open show of their malicious dispositions; and this is so

common, that it seems a matter of boasting now, and the offences

committed against God are thus published abroad.

36. I do not know whether the things I am saying are foolish or

not. If they be so, your reverence will strike them out.

I entreat you to help my simplicity by adding a good deal to

this, because the things that relate to the service of God are so

feebly managed, that it is necessary for those who would serve

Him to join shoulder to shoulder, if they are to advance at all;

for it is considered safe to live amidst the vanities and

pleasures of the world, and few there be who regard them with

unfavourable eyes. But if any one begins to give himself up to

the service of God, there are so many to find fault with him,

that it becomes necessary for him to seek companions, in order

that he may find protection among them till he grows strong

enough not to feel what he may be made to suffer. If he does

not, he will find himself in great straits.

37. This, I believe, must have been the reason why some of the

Saints withdrew into the desert. And it is a kind of humility in

man not to trust to himself, but to believe that God will help

him in his relations with those with whom he converses; and

charity grows by being diffused; and there are a thousand

blessings herein which I would not dare to speak of, if I had not

known by experience the great importance of it. It is very true

that I am the most wicked and the basest of all who are born of

women; but I believe that he who, humbling himself, though

strong, yet trusteth not in himself, and believeth another who in

this matter has had experience, will lose nothing. Of myself I

may say that, if our Lord had not revealed to me this truth, and

given me the opportunity of speaking very frequently to persons

given to prayer, I should have gone on falling and rising till I

tumbled into hell. I had many friends to help me to fall; but as

to rising again, I was so much left to myself, that I wonder now

I was not always on the ground. I praise God for His mercy; for

it was He only Who stretched out His hand to me. May He be

blessed for ever! Amen.

1. See Way of Perfection, ch. xl.; but ch. xxvii. of the

former editions.

2. See Relation, i. § 18.

3. A.D. 1537, when the Saint was twenty-two years old (Bouix).

This passage, therefore, must he one of the additions to the

second Life; for the first was written in 1562,