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

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