11 – 20

Continues to treat of mortification and describes how it may be attained in
times of sickness.

These continual moanings which we make about trifling ailments, my
sisters, seem to me a sign of imperfection: if you can bear a thing,
say nothing about it. When the ailment is serious, it proclaims itself;
that is quite another kind of moaning, which draws attention to itself
immediately. Remember, there are only a few of you, and if one of you
gets into this habit she will worry all the rest–that is, assuming you
love each other and there is charity among you. On the other hand, if
one of you is really ill, she should say so and take the necessary
remedies; and, if you have got rid of your self-love, you will so much
regret having to indulge yourselves in any way that there will be no
fear of your doing so unnecessarily or of your making a moan without
proper cause. When such a reason exists, it would be much worse to say
nothing about it than to allow yourselves unnecessary indulgence, and
it would be very wrong if everybody were not sorry for you.

However, I am quite sure that where there is prayer and charity among
you, and your numbers are so small that you will be aware of each
other’s needs, there will never be any lack of care in your being
looked after. Do not think of complaining about the weaknesses and
minor ailments from which women suffer, for the devil sometimes makes
you imagine them. They come and go; and unless you get rid of the habit
of talking about them and complaining of everything (except to God) you
will never come to the end of them. I lay great stress on this, for I
believe myself it is important, and it is one of the reasons for the
relaxation of discipline in religious houses. For this body of ours has
one fault: the more you indulge it, the more things it discovers to be
essential to it. It is extraordinary how it likes being indulged; and,
if there is any reasonable pretext for indulgence, however little
necessity for it there may be, the poor soul is taken in and prevented
from making progress. Think how many poor people there must be who are
ill and have no one to complain to, for poverty and self-indulgence
make bad company. Think, too, how many married women–people of
position, as I know–have serious complaints and sore trials and yet
dare not complain to their husbands about them for fear of annoying
them. Sinner that I am! Surely we have not come here to indulge
ourselves more than they! Oh, how free you are from the great trials of
the world! Learn to suffer a little for the love of God without telling
everyone about it. When a woman has made an unhappy marriage she does
not talk about it or complain of it, lest it should come to her
husband’s knowledge, she has to endure a great deal of misery and yet
has no one to whom she may relieve her mind. Cannot we, then, keep
secret between God and ourselves some of the ailments which He sends us
because of our sins? The more so since talking about them does nothing
whatever to alleviate them.

In nothing that I have said am I referring to serious illnesses,
accompanied by high fever, though as to these, too, I beg you to
observe moderation and to have patience: I am thinking rather of those
minor indispositions which you may have and still keep going [36]
without worrying everybody else to death over them. What would happen
if these lines should be seen outside this house? What would all the
nuns say of me! And how willingly would I bear what they said if it
helped anyone to live a better life! For when there is one person of
this kind, the thing generally comes to such a pass that some suffer on
account of others, and nobody who says she is ill will be believed,
however serious her ailment. As this book is meant only for my
daughters, they will put up with everything I say. Let us remember our
holy Fathers of past days, the hermits whose lives we attempt to
imitate. What sufferings they bore, what solitude, cold, [thirst] and
hunger, what burning sun and heat! And yet they had no one to complain
to except God. Do you suppose they were made of iron? No: they were as
frail as we are. Believe me, daughters, once we begin to subdue these
miserable bodies of ours, they give us much less trouble. There will be
quite sufficient people to see to what you really need, [37] so take no
thought for yourselves except when you know it to be necessary. Unless
we resolve to put up with death and ill-health once and for all, we
shall never accomplish anything.

Try not to fear these and commit yourselves wholly to God, come what
may. What does it matter if we die? How many times have our bodies not
mocked us? Should we not occasionally mock them in our turn? And,
believe me, slight as it may seem by comparison with other things, this
resolution is much more important than we may think; for, if we
continually make it, day by day, by the grace of the Lord, we shall
gain dominion over the body. To conquer such an enemy is a great
achievement in the battle of life. May the Lord grant, as He is able,
that we may do this. I am quite sure that no one who does not enjoy
such a victory, which I believe is a great one, will understand what
advantage it brings, and no one will regret having gone through trials
in order to attain this tranquillity and self-mastery.

[36] Lit.: ”which can be suffered on foot.”

[37] Lit.: ”to look at (or to) what is needful”–the phrase is
ambiguous and might mean: ”to worry about their own needs.” The word
translated ”people” is feminine.

Teaches that the true lover of God must care little for life and honour.

We now come to some other little things which are also of very great
importance, though they will appear trifling. All this seems a great
task, and so it is, for it means warring against ourselves. But once we
begin to work, God, too, works in our souls and bestows such favours on
them that the most we can do in this life seems to us very little. And
we nuns are doing everything we can, by giving up our freedom for the
love of God and entrusting it to another, and in putting up with so
many trials–fasts, silence, enclosure, service in choir–that however
much we may want to indulge ourselves we can do so only occasionally:
perhaps, in all the convents I have seen, I am the only nun guilty of
self-indulgence. Why, then, do we shrink from interior mortification,
since this is the means by which every other kind of mortification may
become much more meritorious and perfect, so that it can then be
practised with greater tranquillity and ease? This, as I have said, is
acquired by gradual progress and by never indulging our own will and
desire, even in small things, until we have succeeded in subduing the
body to the spirit.

I repeat that this consists mainly or entirely in our ceasing to care
about ourselves and our own pleasures, for the least that anyone who is
beginning to serve the Lord truly can offer Him is his life. Once he
has surrendered his will to Him, what has he to fear? It is evident
that if he is a true religious and a real man of prayer and aspires to
the enjoyment of Divine consolations, he must not [turn back or] shrink
from desiring to die and suffer martyrdom for His sake. And do you not
know, sisters, that the life of a good religious, who wishes to be
among the closest friends of God, is one long martyrdom? I say ”long”,
for, by comparison with decapitation, which is over very quickly, it
may well be termed so, though life itself is short and some lives are
short in the extreme. How do we know but that ours will be so short
that it may end only one hour or one moment after the time of our
resolving to render our entire service to God? This would be quite
possible; and so we must not set store by anything that comes to an
end, least of all by life, since not a day of it is secure. Who, if he
thought that each hour might be his last, would not spend it in labour?

Believe me, it is safest to think that this is so; by so doing we shall
learn to subdue our wills in everything; for if, as I have said, you
are very careful about your prayer, you will soon find yourselves
gradually reaching the summit of the mountain without knowing how. But
how harsh it sounds to say that we must take pleasure in nothing,
unless we also say what consolations and delights this renunciation
brings in its train, and what a great gain it is, even in this life!
What security it gives us! Here, as you all practise this, you have
done the principal part; each of you encourages [38] and helps the
rest; and each of you must try to outstrip her sisters.

Be very careful about your interior thoughts, especially if they have
to do with precedence. May God, by His Passion, keep us from
expressing, or dwelling upon, such thoughts as these: ”But I am her
senior [in the Order]”; ”But I am older”; ”But I have worked harder”;
”But that other sister is being better treated than I am”. If these
thoughts come, you must quickly check them; if you allow yourselves to
dwell on them, or introduce them into your conversation, they will
spread like the plague and in religious houses they may give rise to
great abuses. Remember, I know a great deal about this. If you have a
prioress who allows such things, however trifling, you must believe
that God has permitted her to be given to you because of your sins and
that she will be the beginning of your ruin. Cry to Him, and let your
whole prayer be that He may come to your aid by sending you either a
religious or a person given to prayer; for, if anyone prays with the
resolve to enjoy the favours and consolations which God bestows in
prayer, it is always well that he should have this detachment.

You may ask why I lay such stress on this, and think that I am being
too severe about it, and say that God grants consolations to persons
less completely detached than that. I quite believe He does; for, in
His infinite wisdom, He sees that this will enable Him to lead them to
leave everything for His sake. I do not mean, by ”leaving” everything,
entering the religious life, for there may be obstacles to this, and
the soul that is perfect can be detached and humble anywhere. It will
find detachment harder in the world, however, for worldly trappings
will be a great impediment to it. Still, believe me in this: questions
of honour and desires for property can arise within convents as well as
outside them, and the more temptations of this kind are removed from
us, the more we are to blame if we yield to them. Though persons who do
so may have spent years in prayer, or rather in meditation (for perfect
prayer eventually destroys [all] these attachments), they will never
make great progress or come to enjoy the real fruit of prayer.

Ask yourselves, sisters, if these things, which seem so insignificant,
mean anything to you, for the only reason you are here is that you may
detach yourselves from them. Nobody honours you any the more for having
them and they lose you advantages which might have gained you more
honour; the result is that you get both dishonour and loss at the same
time. Let each of you ask herself how much humility she has and she
will see what progress she has made. If she is really humble, I do not
think the devil will dare to tempt her to take even the slightest
interest in matters of precedence, for he is so shrewd that he is
afraid of the blow she would strike him. If a humble soul is tempted in
this way by the devil, that virtue cannot fail to bring her more
fortitude and greater profit. For clearly the temptation will cause her
to look into her life, to compare the services she has rendered the
Lord with what she owes Him and with the marvellous way in which He
abased Himself to give us an example of humility, and to think over her
sins and remember where she deserves to be on account of them.
Exercises like this bring the soul such profit that on the following
day Satan will not dare to come back again lest he should get his head

Take this advice from me and do not forget it: you should see to it
that your sisters profit by your temptations, not only interiorly
(where it would be very wrong if they did not), but exteriorly as well.
If you want to avenge yourself on the devil and free yourselves more
quickly from temptation, ask the superior, as soon as a temptation
comes to you, to give you some lowly office to do, or do some such
thing, as best you can, on our own initiative, studying as you do it
how to bend your will to perform tasks you dislike. The Lord will show
you ways of doing so and this will soon rid you of the temptation.

God deliver us from people who wish to serve Him yet who are mindful of
their own honour. Reflect how little they gain from this; for, as I
have said, the very act of desiring honour robs us of it, especially in
matters of precedence: there is no poison in the world which is so
fatal to perfection. You will say that these are little things which
have to do with human nature and are not worth troubling about; do not
trifle with them, for in religious houses they spread like foam on
water, and there is no small matter so extremely dangerous as are
punctiliousness about honour and sensitiveness to insult. Do you know
one reason, apart from many others, why this is so? [39] It may have
its root, perhaps, in some trivial slight–hardly anything, in
fact–and the devil will then induce someone else to consider it
important, so that she will think it a real charity to tell you about
it and to ask how you can allow yourself to be insulted so; and she
will pray that God may give you patience and that you may offer it to
Him, for even a saint could not bear more. The devil is simply putting
his deceitfulness into this other person’s mouth; and, though you
yourself are quite ready to bear the slight, you are tempted to
vainglory because you have not resisted something else as perfectly as
you should.

This human nature of ours is so wretchedly weak that, even while we are
telling ourselves that there is nothing for us to make a fuss about, we
imagine we are doing something virtuous, and begin to feel sorry for
ourselves, particularly when we see that other people are sorry for us
too. In this way the soul begins to lose the occasions of merit which
it had gained; it becomes weaker; and thus a door is opened to the
devil by which he can enter on some other occasion with a temptation
worse than the last. It may even happen that, when you yourself are
prepared to suffer an insult, your sisters come and ask you if you are
a beast of burden, and say you ought to be more sensitive about things.
Oh, my sisters, for the love of God, never let charity move you to show
pity for another in anything to do with these fancied insults, for that
is like the pity shown to holy Job by his wife and friends.

[38] Lit.: ”awakens.”

[39] Lit.: ”Do you know why, apart from other things?”

Continues to treat of mortification and explains how one must renounce the
world’s standards of wisdom in order to attain to true wisdom.

I often tell you, sisters, and now I want it to be set down in writing,
not to forget that we in this house, and for that matter anyone who
would be perfect, must flee a thousand leagues from such phrases as: ”I
had right on my side”; ”They had no right to do this to me”; ”The
person who treated me like this was not right”. God deliver us from
such a false idea of right as that! Do you think that it was right for
our good Jesus to have to suffer so many insults, and that those who
heaped them on Him [40] were right, and that they had any right to do
Him those wrongs? I do not know why anyone is in a convent who is
willing to bear only the crosses that she has a perfect right to
expect: such a person should return to the world, though even there
such rights will not be safeguarded. Do you think you can ever possibly
have to bear so much that you ought not to have to bear any more? How
does right enter into the matter at all? I really do not know.

Before we begin talking about not having our rights, let us wait until
we receive some honour or gratification, or are treated kindly, for it
is certainly not right that we should have anything in this life like
that. When, on the other hand, some offence is done to us (and we do
not feel it an offence to us that it should be so described), I do not
see what we can find to complain of. Either we are the brides of this
great King or we are not. If we are, what wife is there with a sense of
honour who does not accept her share in any dishonour done to her
spouse, even though she may do so against her will? Each partner, in
fact, shares in the honour and dishonour of the other. To desire to
share in the kingdom [of our Spouse Jesus Christ], and to enjoy it, and
yet not to be willing to have any part in His dishonours and trials, is

God keep us from being like that! Let the sister who thinks that she is
accounted the least among all consider herself the [happiest and] most
fortunate, as indeed she really is, if she lives her life as she
should, for in that case she will, as a rule, have no lack of honour
either in this life or in the next. Believe me when I say this–what an
absurdity, though, it is for me to say ”Believe me” when the words come
from Him Who is true Wisdom, Who is Truth Itself, and from the Queen of
the angels! Let us, my daughters, in some small degree, imitate the
great humility of the most sacred Virgin, whose habit we wear and whose
nuns we are ashamed to call ourselves. Let us at least imitate this
humility of hers in some degree–I say ”in some degree” because,
however much we may seem to humble ourselves, we fall far short of
being the daughters of such a Mother, and the brides of such a Spouse.
If, then, the habits I have described are not sternly checked, what
seems nothing to-day will perhaps be a venial sin to-morrow, and that
is so infectious a tendency that, if you leave it alone, the sin will
not be the only one for long; and that is a very bad thing for

We who live in a community should consider this very carefully, so as
not to harm those who labour to benefit us and to set us a good
example. If we realize what great harm is done by the formation of a
bad habit of over-punctiliousness about our honour, we should rather
die a thousand deaths than be the cause of such a thing. For only the
body would die, whereas the loss of a soul is a great loss which is
apparently without end; some of us will die, but others will take our
places and perhaps they may all be harmed more by the one bad habit
which we started than they are benefited by many virtues. For the devil
does not allow a single bad habit to disappear and the very weakness of
our mortal nature destroys the virtues in us.

Oh, what a real charity it would be, and what a service would be
rendered to God, if any nun who sees that she cannot [endure and]
conform to the customs of this house would recognize the fact and go
away [before being professed, as I have said elsewhere], and leave the
other sisters in peace! And no convent (at least, if it follows my
advice) will take her or allow her to make her profession until they
have given her many years’ probation to see if she improves. I am not
referring to shortcomings affecting penances and fasts, for, although
these are wrong, they are not things which do so much harm. I am
thinking of nuns who are of such a temperament that they like to be
esteemed and made much of; who see the faults of others but never
recognize their own; and who are deficient in other ways like these,
the true source of which is want of humility. If God does not help such
a person by bestowing great spirituality upon her, until after many
years she becomes greatly improved, may God preserve you from keeping
her in your community. For you must realize that she will neither have
peace there herself nor allow you to have any.

As you do not take dowries, God is very gracious to you in this
respect. It grieves me that religious houses should often harbour one
who is a thief and robs them of their treasure, either because they are
unwilling to return a dowry or out of regard for the relatives. In this
house you have risked losing worldly honour and forgone it (for no such
honour is paid to those who are poor); do not desire, then, that others
should be honoured at such a cost to yourselves. Our honour, sisters,
must lie in the service of God, and, if anyone thinks to hinder you in
this, she had better keep her honour and stay at home. It was with this
in mind that our Fathers ordered a year’s probation (which in our Order
we are free to extend to four years): personally, I should like it to
be prolonged to ten years. A humble nun will mind very little if she is
not professed: for she knows that if she is good she will not be sent
away, and if she is not, why should she wish to do harm to one of
Christ’s communities? [41]

By not being good, I do not mean being fond of vanities, which, I
believe, with the help of God, will be a fault far removed from the
nuns in this house. I am referring to a want of mortification and an
attachment to worldly things and to self-interest in the matter which I
have described. Let anyone who knows that she is not greatly mortified
take my advice and not make her profession if she does not wish to
suffer a hell on earth, and God grant there may not be another hell
awaiting such a nun in the world to come! There are many reasons why
she should fear there may belt and possibly neither she nor her sisters
may realize this as well as I do.

Believe what I say here; if you will not, I must leave it to time to
prove the truth of my words. For the whole manner of life we are trying
to live is making us, not only nuns, but hermits [like the holy Fathers
our predecessors] and leading us to detachment from all things created.
I have observed that anyone whom the Lord has specially chosen for this
life is granted that favour. She may not have it in full perfection,
but that she has it will be evident from the great joy and gladness
that such detachment gives her, and she will never have any more to do
with worldly things, for her delight will be in all the practices of
the religious life. I say once more that anyone who is inclined to
things of the world should leave the convent [42] if she sees she is
not making progress. If she still wishes to be a nun she should go to
another convent; if she does not, she will see what happens to her. She
must not complain of me as the foundress of this convent and say I have
not warned her.

This house is another Heaven, if it be possible to have Heaven upon
earth. Anyone whose sole pleasure lies in pleasing God and who cares
nothing for her own pleasure will find our life a very good one; if she
wants anything more, she will lose everything, for there is nothing
more that she can have. A discontented soul is like a person suffering
from severe nausea, who rejects all food, however nice it may be;
things which persons in good health delight in eating only cause her
the greater loathing. Such a person will save her soul better elsewhere
than here; she may even gradually reach a degree of perfection which
she could not have attained here because we expected too much of her
all at once. For although we allow time for the attainment of complete
detachment and mortification in interior matters, in externals this has
to be practised immediately, because of the harm which may otherwise
befall the rest; and anyone who sees this being done, and spends all
her time in such good company, and yet, at the end of six months or a
year, has made no progress, will, I fear, make none over a great many
years, and will even go backward. I do not say that such a nun must be
as perfect as the rest, but she must be sure that her soul is gradually
growing healthier–and it will soon become clear if her disease is

[40] Lit.: ”did them to Him.”

[41] Lit.: ”to this college of Christ.”

[42] I.e., St. Joseph’s, Ávila.

Treats of the great importance of not professing anyone whose spirit is
contrary to the things aforementioned.

I feel sure that the Lord bestows great help on anyone who makes good
resolutions, and for that reason it is necessary to enquire into the
intentions of anyone who enters [the life of religion]. She must not
come, as many nuns [now] do, simply to further her own interests,
although the Lord can perfect even this intention if she is a person of
intelligence. If not intelligent, a person of this kind should on no
account be admitted; for she will not understand her own reasons for
coming, nor will she understand others who attempt subsequently to
improve her. For, in general, a person who has this fault always thinks
she knows better than the wisest what is good for her; and I believe
this evil is incurable, for it is rarely unaccompanied by malice. In a
convent where there are a great many nuns it may be tolerated, but it
cannot be suffered among a few.

When an intelligent person begins to grow fond of what is good, she
clings to it manfully, for she sees that it is the best thing for her;
this course may not bring her great spirituality but it will help her
to give profitable advice, and to make herself useful in many ways,
without being a trouble to anybody. But I do not see how a person
lacking in intelligence can be of any use in community life, and she
may do a great deal of harm. This defect, like others, will not become
obvious immediately; for many people are good at talking and bad at
understanding, while others speak in a sharp and none too refined a
tone, [43] and yet they have intelligence and can do a great deal of
good. There are also simple, holy people who are quite unversed in
business matters and worldly conventions but have great skill in
converse with God. Many enquiries, therefore, must be made before
novices are admitted, and the period of probation before profession
should be a long one. The world must understand once and for an that
you are free to send them away again, as it is often necessary to do in
a convent where the life is one of austerity; and then if you use this
right no one will take offence.

I say this because these times are so unhappy, and our weakness is so
great, that we are not content to follow the instructions of our
predecessors and disregard the current ideas about honour, lest we
should give offence to the novices’ relatives. God grant that those of
us who admit unsuitable persons may not pay for it in the world to
come! Such persons are never without a pretext for persuading us to
accept them, though in a matter of such importance no pretext is valid.
If the superior is unaffected by her personal likings and prejudices,
and considers what is for the good of the house, I do not believe God
will ever allow her to go astray. But if she considers other people’s
feelings and trivial points of detail, I feel sure she will be bound to

This is something which everyone must think out for herself; she must
commend it to God and encourage her superior when her courage fails
her, of such great importance is it. So I beg God to give you light
about it. You do very well not to accept dowries; for, if you were to
accept them, it might happen that, in order not to have to give back
money which you no longer possess, you would keep a thief in the house
who was robbing you of your treasure; and that would be no small pity.
So you must not receive dowries from anyone, for to do so may be to
harm the very person to whom you desire to bring profit.

[43] An untranslatable play upon words: corto y no muy cortado–as
though ”sharpened” could be used in the sense of ”refined”.

Treats of the great advantage which comes from our not excusing ourselves, even
though we find we are unjustly condemned.

But how disconnectedly I am writing! I am just like a person who does
not know what she is doing. It is your fault, sisters, for I am doing
this at your command. Read it as best you can, for I am writing it as
best I can, and, if it is too bad, burn it. I really need leisure, and,
as you see, I have so little opportunity for writing that a week passes
without my putting down a word, and so I forget what I have said and
what I am going to say next. Now what I have just been doing –namely,
excusing myself–is very bad for me, and I beg you not to copy it, for
to suffer without making excuses is a habit of great perfection, and
very edifying and meritorious; and, though I often teach you this, and
by God’s goodness you practise it, His Majesty has never granted this
favour to me. May He be pleased to bestow it on me before I die.

I am greatly confused as I begin to urge this virtue upon you, for I
ought myself to have practised at least something of what I am
recommending you with regard to it: but actually I must confess I have
made very little progress. I never seem unable to find a reason for
thinking I am being virtuous when I make excuses for myself. There are
times when this is lawful, and when not to do it would be wrong, but I
have not the discretion (or, better, the humility) to do it only when
fitting. For, indeed, it takes great humility to find oneself unjustly
condemned and be silent, and to do this is to imitate the Lord Who set
us free from all our sins. I beg you, then, to study earnestly to do
so, for it brings great gain; whereas I can see no gain in our trying
to free ourselves from blame: none whatever–save, as I say, in a few
cases where hiding the truth might cause offence or scandal. Anyone
will understand this who has more discretion than I.

I think it is very important to accustom oneself to practise this
virtue and to endeavour to obtain from the Lord the true humility which
must result from it. The truly humble person will have a genuine desire
to be thought little of, and persecuted, and condemned unjustly, even
in serious matters. For, if she desires to imitate the Lord, how can
she do so better than in this? And no bodily strength is necessary
here, nor the aid of anyone save God.

These are great virtues, my sisters, and I should like us to study them
closely, and to make them our penance. As you know, I deprecate [other
severe and] excessive penances, which, if practised indiscreetly, may
injure the health. Here, however, there is no cause for fear; for,
however great the interior virtues may be, they do not weaken the body
so that it cannot serve the Order, while at the same time they
strengthen the soul; and, furthermore, they can be applied to very
little things, and thus, as I have said on other occasions, they
accustom one to gain great victories in very important matters. I have
not, however, been able to test this particular thing myself, for I
never heard anything bad said of me which I did not clearly realize
fell short of the truth. If I had not sometimes–often, indeed–
offended God in the ways they referred to, I had done so in many
others, and I felt they had treated me far too indulgently in saying
nothing about these: I much preferred people to blame me for what was
not true than to tell the truth about me. For I disliked hearing things
that were true said about me, whereas these other things, however
serious they were, I did not mind at all. In small matters I followed
my own inclinations, and I still do so, without paying any affection to
what is most perfect. So I should like you to begin to realize this at
an early stage, and I want each of you to ponder how much there is to
be gained in every way by this virtue, and how, so far as I can see,
there is nothing to be lost by it. The chief thing we gain is being
able, in some degree, to follow the Lord.

It is a great help to meditate upon the great gain which in any case
this is bound to bring us, and to realize how, properly speaking, we
can never be blamed unjustly, since we are always full of faults, and a
just man falls seven times a day, [44] so that it would be a falsehood
for us to say we have no sin. If, then, we are not to blame for the
thing that we are accused of, we are never wholly without blame in the
way that our good Jesus was.

Oh, my Lord! When I think in how many ways Thou didst suffer, and in
all of them undeservedly, I know not what to say for myself, or what I
can have been thinking about when I desired not to suffer, or what I am
doing when I make excuses for myself. Thou knowest, my Good, that if
there is anything good in me it comes from no other hands than Thine
own. For what is it to Thee, Lord, to give much instead of little?
True, I do not deserve it, but neither have I deserved the favours
which Thou hast shown me already. Can it be that I should wish a thing
so evil as myself to be thought well of by anyone, when they have said
such wicked things of Thee, Who art good above all other good? It is
intolerable, my God, it is intolerable; nor would I that Thou shouldst
have to tolerate anything displeasing in Thine eyes being found in Thy
handmaiden. For see, Lord, mine eyes are blind and very little pleases
them. Do Thou give me light and make me truly to desire that all should
hate me, since I have so often left Thee, Who hast loved me with such

What is this, my God? What advantage do we think to gain from giving
pleasure to creatures? What does it matter to us if we are blamed by
them all, provided we are without blame in the sight of the Lord? Oh,
my sisters we shall never succeed in understanding this truth and we
shall never attain perfection unless we think and meditate upon what is
real and upon what is not. If there were no other gain than the
confusion which will be felt by the person who has blamed you when she
sees that you have allowed yourselves to be condemned unjustly, that
would be a very great thing. Such an experience uplifts the soul more
than ten sermons. And we must all try to be preachers by our deeds,
since both the Apostle and our own lack of ability forbid us to be
preachers in word.

Never suppose that either the evil or the good that you do will remain
secret, however strict may be your enclosure. Do you suppose, daughter,
that, if you do not make excuses for yourself, there will not be
someone else who will defend you? Remember how the Lord took the
Magdalen’s part in the Pharisee’s house and also when her sister blamed
her. He will not treat you as rigorously as He treated Himself: it was
not until He was on the Cross that He had even a thief to defend Him.
His Majesty, then, will put it into somebody’s mind to defend you; if
He does not, it will be because there is no need. This I have myself
seen, and it is a fact, although I should not like you to think too
much of it, but rather to be glad when you are blamed, and in due time
you will see what profit you experience in your souls. For it is in
this way that you will begin to gain freedom; soon you will not care if
they speak ill or well of you; it will seem like someone else’s
business. It will be as if two persons are talking in your presence and
you are quite uninterested in what they are saying because you are not
actually being addressed by them. So here: it becomes such a habit with
us not to reply that it seems as if they are not addressing us at all.
This may seem impossible to those of us who are very sensitive and not
capable of great mortification. It is indeed difficult at first, but I
know that, with the Lord’s help, the gradual attainment of this
freedom, and of renunciation and self-detachment, is quite possible.

[44] Proverbs xxiv, 16.

Describes the difference between perfection in the lives of contemplatives and
in the lives of those who are content with mental prayer. Explains how it is
sometimes possible for God to raise a distracted soul to perfect contemplation
and the reason for this. This chapter and that which comes next are to be noted
carefully. [45]

I hope you do not think I have written too much about this already; for
I have only been placing the board, as they say. You have asked me to
tell you about the first steps in prayer; although God did not lead me
by them, my daughters I know no others, and even now I can hardly have
acquired these elementary virtues. But you may be sure that anyone who
cannot set out the pieces in a game of chess will never be able to play
well, and, if he does not know how to give check, he will not be able
to bring about a checkmate. [46] Now you will reprove me for talking
about games, as we do not play them in this house and are forbidden to
do so. That will show you what kind of a mother God has given you–she
even knows about vanities like this! However, they say that the game is
sometimes legitimate. How legitimate it will be for us to play it in
this way, and, if we play it frequently, how quickly we shall give
checkmate to this Divine King! He will not be able to move out of our
check nor will He desire to do so.

It is the queen which gives the king most trouble in this game and all
the other pieces support her. There is no queen who can beat this King
as well as humility can; for humility brought Him down from Heaven into
the Virgin’s womb and with humility we can draw Him into our souls by a
single hair. Be sure that He will give most humility to him who has
most already and least to him who has least. I cannot understand how
humility exists, or can exist, without love, or love without humility,
and it is impossible for these two virtues to exist save where there is
great detachment from all created things.

You will ask, my daughters, why I am talking to you about virtues when
you have more than enough books to teach you about them and when you
want me to tell you only about contemplation. My reply is that, if you
had asked me about meditation, I could have talked to you about it, and
advised you all to practise it, even if you do not possess the virtues.
For this is the first step to be taken towards the acquisition of the
virtues and the very life of all Christians depends upon their
beginning it. No one, however lost a soul he may be, should neglect so
great a blessing if God inspires him to make use of it. All this I have
already written elsewhere, and so have many others who know what they
are writing about, which I certainly do not: God knows that.

But contemplation, daughters, is another matter. This is an error which
we all make: if a person gets so far as to spend a short time each day
in thinking about his sins, as he is bound to do if he is a Christian
in anything more than name, people at once call him a great
contemplative; and then they expect him to have the rare virtues which
a great contemplative is bound to possess; he may even think he has
them himself, but he will be quite wrong. In his early stages he did
not even know how to set out the chess-board, and thought that, in
order to give checkmate, it would be enough to be able to recognize the
pieces. But that is impossible, for this King does not allow Himself to
be taken except by one who surrenders wholly to Him.

Therefore, daughters, if you want me to tell you the way to attain to
contemplation, do allow me to speak at some length about these things,
even if at the time they do not seem to you very important, for I think
myself that they are. If you have no wish either to hear about them or
to practise them, continue your mental prayer all your life; but in
that case I assure you, and all persons who desire this blessing, that
in my opinion you will not attain true contemplation. I may, of course,
be wrong about this, as I am judging by my own experience, but I have
been striving after contemplation for twenty years.

I will now explain what mental prayer is, as some of you will not
understand this. God grant that we may practise it as we should! I am
afraid, however, that, if we do not achieve the virtues, this can only
be done with great labour, although the virtues are not necessary here
in such a high degree as they are for contemplation. I mean that the
King of glory will not come to our souls–that is, so as to be united
with them– unless we strive to gain the greatest virtues. [47] I will
explain this, for if you once catch me out in something which is not
the truth, you will believe nothing I say–and if I were to say
something untrue intentionally, from which may God preserve me, you
would be right; but, if I did, it would be because I knew no better or
did not understand what I said. I will tell you, then, that God is
sometimes pleased to show great favour to persons who are in an evil
state [and to raise them to perfect contemplation], so that by this
means He may snatch them out of the hands of the devil. It must be
understood, I think, that such persons will not be in mortal sin at the
time. They may be in an evil state, and yet the Lord will allow them to
see a vision, even a very good one, in order to draw them back to
Himself. But I cannot believe that He would grant them contemplation.
For that is a Divine union, in which the Lord takes His delight in the
soul and the soul takes its delight in Him; and there is no way in
which the Purity of the Heavens can take pleasure in a soul that is
unclean, nor can the Delight of the angels have delight in that which
is not His own. And we know that, by committing mortal sin, a soul
becomes the property of the devil, and must take its delight in him,
since it has given him pleasure; and, as we know, his delights, even in
this life, are continuous torture. My Lord will have no lack of
children of His own in whom He may rejoice without going and taking the
children of others. Yet His Majesty will do what He often does–namely,
snatch them out of the devil’s hands. [48]

Oh, my Lord! How often do we cause Thee to wrestle with the devil! Was
it not enough that Thou shouldst have allowed him to bear Thee in his
arms when he took Thee to the pinnacle of the Temple in order to teach
us how to vanquish him? What a sight it would have been, daughters, to
see this Sun by the side of the darkness, and what fear that wretched
creature must have felt, though he would not have known why, since God
did not allow Him to understand!

Blessed be such great pity and mercy; we Christians ought to feel great
shame at making Him wrestle daily, in the way I have described, with
such an unclean beast. Indeed, Lord, Thine arms had need to be strong,
but how was it that they were not weakened by the many [trials and]
tortures which Thou didst endure upon the Cross? Oh, how quickly all
that is borne for love’s sake heals again! I really believe that, if
Thou hadst lived longer, the very love which Thou hast for us would
have healed Thy wounds again and Thou wouldst have needed no other
medicine. Oh, my God, who will give me such medicine for all the things
which grieve and try me? How eagerly should I desire them if it were
certain that I could be cured by such a health-giving ointment!

Returning to what I was saying, there are souls whom God knows He may
gain for Himself by this means; seeing that they are completely lost,
His Majesty wants to leave no stone unturned to help them; and
therefore, though they are in a sad way and lacking in virtues, He
gives them consolations, favours and emotions [49] which begin to move
their desires, and occasionally even brings them to a state of
contemplation, though rarely and not for long at a time. And this, as I
say, He does because He is testing them to see if that favour will not
make them anxious to prepare themselves to enjoy it often; if it does
not, may they be pardoned; pardon Thou us, Lord, for it is a dreadful
thing that a soul whom Thou hast brought near to Thyself should
approach any earthly thing and become attached to it.

For my own part I believe there are many souls whom God our Lord tests
in this way, and few who prepare themselves to enjoy this favour. When
the Lord does this and we ourselves leave nothing undone either, I
think it is certain that He never ceases from giving until He has
brought us to a very high degree of prayer. If we do not give ourselves
to His Majesty as resolutely as He gives Himself to us, He will be
doing more than enough for us if He leaves us in mental prayer and from
time to time visits us as He would visit servants in His vineyard. But
these others are His beloved children, whom He would never want to
banish from His side; and, as they have no desire to leave Him, He
never does so. He seats them at His table, and feeds them with His own
food, almost taking the food from His mouth in order to give it them.

Oh, what blessed care of us is this, my daughters! How happy shall we
be if by leaving these few, petty [50] things we can arrive at so high
an estate! Even if the whole world should blame you, and deafen you
with its cries, what matter so long as you are in the arms of God? He
is powerful enough to free you from everything; for only once did He
command the world to be made and it was done; with Him, to will is to
do. Do not be afraid, then, if He is pleased to speak with you, for He
does this for the greater good of those who love Him. His love for
those to whom He is dear is by no means so weak: He shows it in every
way possible. Why, then, my sisters, do we not show Him love in so far
as we can? Consider what a wonderful exchange it is if we give Him our
love and receive His. Consider that He can do all things, and we can do
nothing here below save as He enables us. And what is it that we do for
Thee, O Lord, our Maker? We do hardly anything [at all]– just make
some poor weak resolution. And, if His Majesty is pleased that by doing
a mere nothing we should win everything, let us not be so foolish as to
fail to do it.

O Lord! All our trouble comes to us from not having our eyes fixed upon
Thee. If we only looked at the way along which we are walking, we
should soon arrive; but we stumble and fall a thousand times and stray
from the way because, as I say, we do not set our eyes on the true Way.
One would think that no one had ever trodden it before, so new is it to
us. It is indeed a pity that this should sometimes happen. I mean, it
hardly seems that we are Christians at all or that we have ever in our
lives read about the Passion. Lord help us –that we should be hurt
about some small point of honour! And then, when someone tells us not
to worry about it, we think he is no Christian. I used to laugh–or
sometimes I used to be distressed–at the things I heard in the world,
and sometimes, for my sins, in religious Orders. We refuse to be
thwarted over the very smallest matter of precedence: apparently such a
thing is quite intolerable. We cry out at once: ”Well, I’m no saint”; I
used to say that myself.

God deliver us, sisters, from saying ”We are not angels”, or ”We are
not saints”, whenever we commit some imperfection. We may not be; but
what a good thing it is for us to reflect that we can be if we will
only try and if God gives us His hand! Do not be afraid that He will
fail to do His part if we do not fail to do ours. And since we come
here for no other reason, let us put our hands to the plough, as they
say. Let there be nothing we know of which it would be a service to the
Lord for us to do, and which, with His help, we would not venture to
take in hand. I should like that kind of venturesomeness to be found in
this house, as it always increases humility. We must have a holy
boldness, for God helps the strong, being no respecter of persons; [51]
and He will give courage to you and to me.

I have strayed far from the point. I want to return to what I was
saying–that is, to explain the nature of mental prayer and
contemplation. It may seem irrelevant, but it is all done for your
sakes; you may understand it better as expressed in my rough style than
in other books which put it more elegantly. May the Lord grant me His
favour, so that this may be so. Amen.

[45] The first four paragraphs of this chapter originally formed part
of V., but, after writing them, St. Teresa tore them out of the
manuscript, as though, on consideration, she had decided not to leave
on record her knowledge of such a worldly game as chess. The allegory,
however, is so expressive and beautiful that it has rightly become
famous, and from the time of Fray Luis de León all the editions have
included it. The text here followed is that of E.

[46] Chess was very much in vogue in the Spain of St. Teresa’s day and
it was only in 1561 that its great exponent Ruy López de Segura had
published his celebrated treatise, in Spanish, entitled ”Book of the
liberal invention and art of the game of chess”.

[47] Lit.: ”the great virtues.” In V. St. Teresa originally began this
sentence thus: ”In the last chapter I said that the King of glory,
etc.,” and ended it: ”to gain the virtues which I there described as
great.” Later she altered it to read as above.

[48] Lit.: ”out of his hands”, but the meaning, made more explicit in
V., is evident. On the doctrinal question involved in this paragraph,
see Introduction, above. P. Silverio (III, 75-6), has a more extensive
note on the subject than can be given here and cites a number of
Spanish authorities, from P. Juan de Jesús María (Theologia Mystica,
Chap. III) to P. Seisdedos Sanz (Principios fundamentales de la
mística, Madrid, 1913, II, 61-77.)

[49] Lit.: ”and tenderness.”

[50] Lit.: ”low”, contrasting with ”high” at the end of the sentence.

[51] Acts x, 34.

How not all souls are fitted for contemplation and how some take long to attain
it. True humility will walk happily along the road by which the Lord leads it.

I seem now to be beginning my treatment of prayer, but there still
remains a little for me to say, which is of great importance because it
has to do with humility, and in this house that is necessary. For
humility is the principal virtue which must be practised by those who
pray, and, as I have said, it is very fitting that you should try to
learn how to practise it often: that is one of the chief things to
remember about it and it is very necessary that it should be known by
all who practise prayer. How can anyone who is truly humble think
herself as good as those who become contemplatives? God, it is true, by
His goodness and mercy, can make her so; but my advice is that she
should always sit down in the lowest place, for that is what the Lord
instructed us to do and taught us by His own example. [52] Let such a
one make herself ready for God to lead her by this road if He so wills;
if He does not, the whole point of true humility is that she should
consider herself happy in serving the servants of the Lord and in
praising Him. For she deserves to be a slave of the devils in hell; yet
His Majesty has brought her here to live among His servants.

I do not say this without good reason, for, as I have said, it is very
important for us to realize that God does not lead us all by the same
road, and perhaps she who believes herself to be going along the lowest
of roads is the highest in the Lord’s eyes. So it does not follow that,
because all of us in this house practise prayer, we are all perforce to
be contemplatives. That is impossible; and those of us who are not
would be greatly discouraged if we did not grasp the truth that
contemplation is something given by God, and, as it is not necessary
for salvation and God does not ask it of us before He gives us our
reward, we must not suppose that anyone else will require it of us. We
shall not fail to attain perfection if we do what has been said here;
we may, in fact, gain much more merit, because what we do will cost us
more labour; the Lord will be treating us like those who are strong and
will be laying up for us all that we cannot enjoy in this life. Let us
not be discouraged, then, and give up prayer or cease doing what the
rest do; for the Lord sometimes tarries long, and gives us as great
rewards all at once as He has been giving to others over many years.

I myself spent over fourteen years without ever being able to meditate
except while reading. There must be many people like this, and others
who cannot meditate even after reading, but can only recite vocal
prayers, in which they chiefly occupy themselves and take a certain
pleasure. Some find their thoughts wandering so much that they cannot
concentrate upon the same thing, but are always restless, to such an
extent that, if they try to fix their thoughts upon God, they are
attacked by a thousand foolish ideas and scruples and doubts concerning
the Faith. I know a very old woman, leading a most excellent life–I
wish mine were like hers–a penitent and a great servant of God, who
for many years has been spending hours and hours in vocal prayer, but
from mental prayer can get no help at all; the most she can do is to
dwell upon each of her vocal prayers as she says them. There are a
great many other people just like this; if they are humble, they will
not, I think, be any the worse off in the end, but very much in the
same state as those who enjoy numerous consolations. In one way they
may feel safer, for we cannot tell if consolations come from God or are
sent by the devil. If they are not of God, they are the more dangerous;
for the chief object of the devil’s work on earth is to fill us with
pride. If they are of God, there is no reason for fear, for they bring
humility with them, as I explained in my other book at great length.

Others [53] walk in humility, and always suspect that if they fail to
receive consolations the fault is theirs, and are always most anxious
to make progress. They never see a person shedding a tear without
thinking themselves very backward in God’s service unless they are
doing the same, whereas they may perhaps be much more advanced. For
tears, though good, are not invariably signs of perfection; there is
always greater safety in humility, mortification, detachment and other
virtues. There is no reason for fear, and you must not be afraid that
you will fail to attain the perfection of the greatest contemplatives.

Saint Martha was holy, but we are not told that she was a
contemplative. What more do you want than to be able to grow to be like
that blessed woman, who was worthy to receive Christ our Lord so often
in her house, and to prepare meals for Him, and to serve Him and
perhaps to eat at table with Him? If she had been absorbed in devotion
[all the time], as the Magdalen was, there would have been no one to
prepare a meal for this Divine Guest. Now remember that this little
community is Saint Martha’s house and that there must be people of all
kinds here. Nuns who are called to the active life must not murmur at
others who are very much absorbed in contemplation, for contemplatives
know that, though they themselves may be silent, the Lord will speak
for them, and this, as a rule, makes them forget themselves and
everything else.

Remember that there must be someone to cook the meals and count
yourselves happy in being able to serve like Martha. Reflect that true
humility consists to a great extent in being ready for what the Lord
desires to do with you and happy that He should do it, and in always
considering yourselves unworthy to be called His servants. If
contemplation and mental and vocal prayer and tending the sick and
serving in the house and working at even the lowliest tasks are of
service to the Guest who comes to stay with us and to eat and take His
recreation with us, what should it matter to us if we do one of these
things rather than another?

I do not mean that it is for us to say what we shall do, but that we
must do our best in everything, for the choice is not ours but the
Lord’s. If after many years He is pleased to give each of us her
office, it will be a curious kind of humility for you to wish to
choose; let the Lord of the house do that, for He is wise and powerful
and knows what is fitting for you and for Himself as well. Be sure
that, if you do what lies in your power and prepare yourself for high
contemplation with the perfection aforementioned, then, if He does not
grant it you (and I think He will not fail to do so if you have true
detachment and humility), it will be because He has laid up this joy
for you so as to give it you in Heaven, and because, as I have said
elsewhere, He is pleased to treat you like people who are strong and
give you a cross to bear on earth like that which His Majesty Himself
always bore.

What better sign of friendship is there than for Him to give you what
He gave Himself? It might well be that you would not have had so great
a reward from contemplation. His judgments are His own; we must not
meddle in them. It is indeed a good thing that the choice is not ours;
for, if it were, we should think it the more restful life and all
become great contemplatives. Oh, how much we gain if we have no desire
to gain what seems to us best and so have no fear of losing, since God
never permits a truly mortified person to lose anything except when
such loss will bring him greater gain!

[52] St. Luke xiv, 10.

[53] Lit.: ”These others.”

Continues the same subject and shows how much greater are the trials of
contemplatives than those of actives. This chapter offers great consolation to

I tell you, then, daughters–those of you whom God is not leading by
this road [of contemplation]–that, as I know from what I have seen and
been told by those who are following this road, they are not bearing a
lighter cross than you; you would be amazed at all the ways and manners
in which God sends them crosses. I know about both types of life and I
am well aware that the trials given by God to contemplatives are
intolerable; and they are of such a kind that, were He not to feed them
with consolations, they could not be borne. It is clear that, since God
leads those whom He most loves by the way of trials, the more He loves
them, the greater will be their trials; and there is no reason to
suppose that He hates contemplatives, since with His own mouth He
praises them and calls them friends.

To suppose that He would admit to His close friendship pleasure-loving
people who are free from all trials is ridiculous. I feel quite sure
that God gives them much greater trials; and that He leads them by a
hard and rugged road, so that they sometimes think they are lost and
will have to go back and begin again. Then His Majesty is obliged to
give them sustenance–not water, but wine, so that they may become
inebriated by it and not realize what they are going through and what
they are capable of bearing. Thus I find few true contemplatives who
are not courageous and resolute in suffering; for, if they are weak,
the first thing the Lord does is to give them courage so that they may
fear no trials that may come to them.

I think, when those who lead an active life occasionally see
contemplatives receiving consolations, they suppose that they never
experience anything else. But I can assure you that you might not be
able to endure their sufferings for as long as a day. The point is that
the Lord knows everyone as he really is and gives each his work to
do–according to what He sees to be most fitting for his soul, and for
His own Self, and for the good of his neighbour. Unless you have
omitted to prepare yourselves for your work you need have no fear that
it will be lost. Note that I say we must all strive to do this, for we
are here for no other purpose; and we must not strive merely for a
year, or for two years or ten years, or it will look as if we are
abandoning our work like cowards. It is well that the Lord should see
we are not leaving anything undone. We are like soldiers who, however
long they have served, must always be ready for their captain to send
them away on any duty which he wants to entrust to them, since it is he
who is paying them. And how much better is the payment given by our
King than by people on this earth! For the unfortunate soldiers die,
and God knows who pays them after that!

When their captain sees they are all present, and anxious for service,
he assigns duties to them according to their fitness, though not so
well as our Heavenly Captain. But if they were not present, He would
give them neither pay [54] nor service orders. So practise mental
prayer, sisters; or, if any of you cannot do that, vocal prayer,
reading and colloquies with God, as I shall explain to you later. Do
not neglect the hours of prayer which are observed by all the nuns; you
never know when the Spouse will call you (do not let what happened to
the foolish virgins happen to you) and if He will give you fresh trials
under the disguise of consolations. If He does not, you may be sure
that you are not fit for them and that what you are doing is suitable
for you. That is where both merit and humility come in, when you really
think that you are not fit for what you are doing.

Go cheerfully about whatever services you are ordered to do, as I have
said; if such a servant is truly humble she will be blessed in her
active life and will never make any complaint save of herself. I would
much rather be like her than like some contemplatives. Leave others to
wage their own conflicts, which are not light ones. The standard-bearer
is not a combatant, yet none the less he is exposed to great danger,
and, inwardly, must suffer more than anyone, for he cannot defend
himself, as he is carrying the standard, which he must not allow to
leave his hands, even if he is cut to pieces. Just so contemplatives
have to bear aloft the standard of humility and must suffer all the
blows which are aimed at them without striking any themselves. Their
duty is to suffer as Christ did, to raise the Cross on high, not to
allow it to leave their hands, whatever the perils in which they find
themselves, and not to let themselves be found backward in suffering.
It is for this reason that they are given such an honourable duty. Let
the contemplative consider what he is doing; for, if he lets the
standard fall, the battle will be lost. Great harm, I think, is done to
those who are not so far advanced if those whom they consider as
captains and friends of God let them see them acting in a way
unbefitting to their office.

The other soldiers do as best they can; at times they will withdraw
from some position of extreme danger, and, as no one observes them,
they suffer no loss of honour. But these others have all eyes fixed on
them and cannot move. Their office, then, is a noble one, and the King
confers great honour and favour upon anyone to whom He gives it, and
who, in receiving it, accepts no light obligation. So, sisters, as we
do not understand ourselves and know not what we ask, let us leave
everything to the Lord, Who knows us better than we know ourselves.
True humility consists in our being satisfied with what is given us.
There are some people who seem to want to ask favours from God as a
right. A pretty kind of humility that is! He Who knows us all does well
in seldom giving things to such persons, He sees clearly that they are
unable to drink of His chalice.

If you want to know whether you have made progress or not, sisters, you
may be sure that you have if each of you thinks herself the worst of
all and shows that she thinks this by acting for the profit and benefit
of the rest. Progress has nothing to do with enjoying the greatest
number of consolations in prayer, or with raptures, visions or favours
[often] given by the Lord, the value of which we cannot estimate until
we reach the world to come. The other things I have been describing are
current coin, an unfailing source of revenue and a perpetual
inheritance–not payments liable at any time to cease, like those
favours which are given us and then come to an end. I am referring to
the great virtues of humility, mortification and an obedience so
extremely strict that we never go an inch beyond the superior’s orders,
knowing that these orders come from God since she is in His place. It
is to this duty of obedience that you must attach the greatest
importance. It seems to me that anyone who does not have it is not a
nun at all, and so I am saying no more about it, as I am speaking to
nuns whom I believe to be good, or, at least, desirous of being so. So
well known is the matter, and so important, that a single word will
suffice to prevent you from forgetting it.

I mean that, if anyone is under a vow of obedience and goes astray
through not taking the greatest care to observe these vows with the
highest degree of perfection, I do not know why she is in the convent.
I can assure her, in any case, that, for so long as she fails in this
respect, she will never succeed in leading the contemplative life, or
even in leading a good active life: of that I am absolutely certain.
[55] And even a person who has not this obligation, but who wishes or
tries to achieve contemplation, must, if she would walk safely, be
fully resolved to surrender her will to a confessor who is himself a
contemplative [56] and will understand her. It is a well-known fact
that she will make more progress in this way in a year than in a great
many years if she acts otherwise. As this does not affect you, however,
I will say no more about it.

I conclude, my daughters, [by saying] that these are the virtues which
I desire you to possess and to strive to obtain and of which you should
cherish a holy envy. Do not be troubled because you have no experience
of those other kinds of devotion: they are very unreliable. It may be
that to some people they come from God, and yet that if they came to
you it might be because His Majesty had permitted you to be deceived
and deluded by the devil, as He has permitted others: there is danger
in this for women. Why do you want to serve the Lord in so doubtful a
way when there are so many ways of [serving Him in] safety? Who wants
to plunge you into these perils? I have said a great deal about this,
because I am sure it will be useful, for this nature of ours is weak,
though His Majesty will strengthen those on whom He wishes to bestow
contemplation. With regard to the rest, I am glad to have given them
this advice, which will teach contemplatives humility also. If you say
you have no need of it, daughters, some of you may perhaps find it
pleasant reading. May the Lord, for His own sake, give us light to
follow His will in all things and we shall have no cause for fear.

[54] Lit.: ”would give them nothing”, but the reference seems to be to

[55] Lit.: ”very, very certain”– a typically Teresan repetition.

[56] Lit.: ”who is such.”

Begins to treat of prayer. Addresses souls who cannot reason with the

It is a long time [57] since I wrote the last chapter and I have had no
chance of returning to my writing, so that, without reading through
what I have written, I cannot remember what I said. However, I must not
spend too much time at this, so it will be best if I go right on [58]
without troubling about the connection. For those with orderly minds,
and for souls who practise prayer and can be a great deal in their own
company, many books have been written, and these are so good and are
the work of such competent people that you would be making a mistake if
you paid heed to anything about prayer that you learned from me. There
are books, as I say, in which the mysteries of the life of the Lord and
of His sacred Passion are described in short passages, one for each day
of the week; there are also meditations on the Judgment, on hell, on
our own nothingness and on all that we owe to God, and these books are
excellent both as to their teaching and as to the way in which they
plan the beginning and the end of the time of prayer. [59] There is no
need to tell anyone who is capable of practising prayer in this way,
and has already formed the habit of doing so, that by this good road
the Lord will bring her to the harbour of light. If she begins so well,
her end will be good also; and all who can walk along this road will
walk restfully and securely, for one always walks restfully when the
understanding is kept in restraint. It is something else that I wish to
treat of and help you about if the Lord is pleased to enable me to do
so; if not, you will at least realize that there are many souls who
suffer this trial, and you will not be so much distressed at undergoing
it yourselves at first, but will find some comfort in it.

There are some souls, and some minds, as unruly as horses not yet
broken in. No one can stop them: now they go this way, now that way;
they are never still. Although a skilled rider mounted on such a horse
may not always be in danger, he will be so sometimes; and, even if he
is not concerned about his life, there will always be the risk of his
stumbling, [60] so that he has to ride with great care. Some people are
either like this by nature or God permits them to become so. I am very
sorry for them; they seem to me like people who are very thirsty and
see water a long way off, yet, when they try to go to it, find someone
who all the time is barring their path–at the beginning of their
journey, in the middle and at the end. And when, after all their
labour–and the labour is tremendous–they have conquered the first of
their enemies, they allow themselves to be conquered by the second, and
they prefer to die of thirst rather than drink water which is going to
cost them so much trouble. Their strength has come to an end; their
courage has failed them; and, though some of them are strong enough to
conquer their second enemies as well as their first, when they meet the
third group their strength comes to an end, though perhaps they are
only a couple of steps from the fountain of living water, of which the
Lord said to the Samaritan woman that whosoever drinks of it shall not
thirst again. [61] How right and how very true is that which comes from
the lips of Truth Himself! In this life the soul will never thirst for
anything more, although its thirst for things in the life to come will
exceed any natural thirst that we can imagine here below. How the soul
thirsts to experience this thirst! For it knows how very precious it
is, and, grievous though it be and exhausting, it creates the very
satisfaction by which this thirst is allayed. It is therefore a thirst
which quenches nothing but desire for earthly things, and, when God
slakes it, satisfies in such a way that one of the greatest favours He
can bestow on the soul is to leave it with this longing, so that it has
an even greater desire to drink of this water again.

Water has three properties–three relevant properties which I can
remember, that is to say, for it must have many more. One of them is
that of cooling things; however hot we are, water tempers the heat, and
it will even put out a large fire, except when there is tar in the
fire, in which case, they say, it only burns the more. God help me!
What a marvellous thing it is that, when this fire is strong and fierce
and subject to none of the elements, water should make it grow fiercer,
and, though its contrary element, should not quench it but only cause
it to burn the more! It would be very useful to be able to discuss this
with someone who understands philosophy; if I knew the properties of
things I could explain it myself; but, though I love thinking about it,
I cannot explain it–perhaps I do not even understand it.

You will be glad, sisters, if God grants you to drink of this water, as
are those who drink of it now, and you will understand how a genuine
love of God, if it is really strong, and completely free from earthly
things, and able to rise above them, is master of all the elements and
of the whole world. And, as water proceeds from the earth, there is no
fear of its quenching this fire, which is the love of God; though the
two elements are contraries, it has no power over it. The fire is
absolute master, and subject to nothing. You will not be surprised,
then, sisters, at the way I have insisted in this book that you should
strive to obtain this freedom. Is it not a funny thing that a poor
little nun of Saint Joseph’s should attain mastery over the whole earth
and all the elements? What wonder that the saints did as they pleased
with them by the help of God? Fire and water obeyed Saint Martin; even
birds and fishes were obedient to Saint Francis; and similarly with
many other saints. Helped as they were by God, and themselves doing all
that was in their power, they could almost have claimed this as a
right. It was clear that they were masters over everything in the
world, because they had striven so hard to despise it and subjected
themselves to the Lord of the world with all their might. So, as I say,
the water, which springs from the earth, has no power over this fire.
Its flames rise high and its source is in nothing so base as the earth.
There are other fires of love for God–small ones, which may be
quenched by the least little thing. But this fire will most certainly
not be so quenched. [62] Even should a whole sea of temptations assail
it, they will not keep it from burning or prevent it from gaining the
mastery over them.

Water which comes down as rain from Heaven will quench the flames even
less, for in that case the fire and the water are not contraries, but
have the same origin. Do not fear that the one element may harm the
other; each helps the other and they produce the same effect. For the
water of genuine tears– that is, tears which come from true prayer–is
a good gift from the King of Heaven; it fans the flames and keeps them
alight, while the fire helps to cool the water. God bless me! What a
beautiful and wonderful thing it is that fire should cool water! But it
does; and it even freezes all worldly affections, when it is combined
with the living water which comes from Heaven, the source of the
above-mentioned tears, which are given us, and not acquired by our
diligence. Certainly, then, nothing worldly has warmth enough left in
it to induce us to cling to it unless it is something which increases
this fire, the nature of which is not to be easily satisfied, but, if
possible, to enkindle the entire world.

The second property of water is that it cleanses things that are not
clean already. What would become of the world if there were no water
for washing? Do you know what cleansing properties there are in this
living water, this heavenly water, this clear water, when it is
unclouded, and free from mud, and comes down from Heaven? Once the soul
has drunk of it I am convinced that it makes it pure and clean of all
its sins; for, as I have written, God does not allow us to drink of
this water of perfect contemplation whenever we like: the choice is not
ours; this Divine union is something quite supernatural, given that it
may cleanse the soul and leave it pure and free from the mud and misery
in which it has been plunged because of its sins. Other consolations,
excellent as they may be, which come through the intermediacy of the
understanding, are like water running all over the ground. This cannot
be drunk directly from the source; and its course is never free from
clogging impurities, so that it is neither so pure nor so clean as the
other. I should not say that this prayer I have been describing, which
comes from reasoning with the intellect, is living water–I mean so far
as my understanding of it goes. For, despite our efforts, there is
always something clinging to the soul, through the influence of the
body and of the baseness of our nature, which we should prefer not to
be there.

I will explain myself further. We are meditating on the nature of the
world, and on the way in which everything will come to an end, so that
we may learn to despise it, when, almost without noticing it, we find
ourselves ruminating on things in the world that we love. We try to
banish these thoughts, but we cannot help being slightly distracted by
thinking of things that have happened, or will happen, of things we
have done and of things we are going to do. Then we begin to think of
how we can get rid of these thoughts; and that sometimes plunges us
once again into the same danger. It is not that we ought to omit such
meditations; but we need to retain our misgivings about them and not to
grow careless. In contemplation the Lord Himself relieves us of this
care, for He will not trust us to look after ourselves. So dearly does
He love our souls that He prevents them from rushing into things which
may do them harm just at this time when He is anxious to help them. So
He calls them to His side at once, and in a single moment reveals more
truths to them and gives them a clearer insight into the nature of
everything than they could otherwise gain in many years. For our sight
is poor and the dust which we meet on the road blinds us; but in
contemplation the Lord brings us to the end of the day’s journey
without our understanding how.

The third property of water is that it satisfies and quenches thirst.
Thirst, I think, means the desire for something which is very necessary
for us–so necessary that if we have none of it we shall die. It is a
strange thing that if we have no water we die, and that we can also
lose our lives through having too much of it, as happens to many people
who get drowned. Oh, my Lord, if only one could be plunged so deeply
into this living water that one’s life would end! Can that be? Yes:
this love and desire for God can increase so much that human nature is
unable to bear it, and so there have been persons who have died of it.
I knew one person [63] who had this living water in such great
abundance that she would almost have been drawn out of herself by
raptures if God had not quickly succoured her. She had such a thirst,
and her desire grew so greatly, that she realized clearly that she
might quite possibly die of thirst if something were not done for her.
I say that she would almost have been drawn out of herself because in
this state the soul is in repose. So intolerable does such a soul find
the world that it seems to be overwhelmed, [64] but it comes to life
again in God; and in this way His Majesty enables it to enjoy
experiences which, if it had remained within itself, would perforce
have cost it its life.

Let it be understood from this that, as there can be nothing in our
supreme Good which is not perfect, all that He gives is for our
welfare; and, however abundant this water which He gives may be, in
nothing that He gives can there be superfluity. For, if His gift is
abundant, He also bestows on the soul, as I have said, an abundant
capacity for drinking; just as a glassmaker moulds his vessels to the
size he thinks necessary, so that there is room for what he wishes to
pour into them. As our desires for this water come from ourselves, they
are never free from fault; any good that there may be in them comes
from the help of the Lord. But we are so indiscreet that, as the pain
is sweet and pleasant, we think we can never have too much of it. We
have an immeasurable longing for it, [65] and, so far as is possible on
earth, we stimulate this longing: sometimes this goes so far as to
cause death. How happy is such a death! And yet by living one might
perhaps have helped others to die of the desire for it. I believe the
devil has something to do with this: knowing how much harm we can do
him by living, he tempts us to be indiscreet in our penances and so to
ruin our health, which is a matter of no small moment to him.

I advise anyone who attains to an experience of this fierce thirst to
watch herself carefully, for I think she will have to contend with this
temptation. She may not die of her thirst, but her health will be
ruined, and she will involuntarily give her feelings outward
expression, which ought at all costs to be avoided. Sometimes, however,
all our diligence in this respect is unavailing and we are unable to
hide our emotions as much as we should like. Whenever we are assailed
by these strong impulses stimulating the increase of our desire, let us
take great care not to add to them ourselves but to check them gently
[66] by thinking of something else. For our own nature may be playing
as great a part in producing these feelings as our love. There are some
people of this type who have keen desires for all kinds of things, even
for bad things, but I do not think such people can have achieved great
mortification, for mortification is always profitable. It seems foolish
to check so good a thing as this desire, but it is not. I am not saying
that the desire should be uprooted–only checked; one may be able to do
this by stimulating some other desire which is equally praiseworthy.

In order to explain myself better I will give an illustration. A man
has a great desire to be with God, as Saint Paul had, and to be loosed
from this prison. [67] This causes him pain which yet is in itself a
great joy, and no small degree of mortification will be needed if he is
to check it–in fact, he will not always be able to do so. But when he
finds it oppressing him so much he may almost lose his reason. I saw
this happen to someone not long ago; she was of an impetuous nature,
but so accustomed to curbing her own will that, from what I had seen at
other times, I thought her will was completely annihilated; yet, when I
saw her for a moment, the great stress and strain caused by her efforts
to hide her feelings had all but destroyed her reason. [68] In such an
extreme case, I think, even did the desire come from the Spirit of God,
it would be true humility to be afraid; for we must not imagine that we
have sufficient charity to bring us to such a state of oppression.

I shall not think it at all wrong (if it be possible, I mean, for it
may not always be so) for us to change our desire by reflecting that,
if we live, we have more chance of serving God, and that we might do
this by giving light to some soul which otherwise would be lost; as
well as that, if we serve Him more, we shall deserve to enjoy Him more,
and grieve that we have served Him so little. These are consolations
appropriate to such great trials: they will allay our pain and we shall
gain a great deal by them if in order to serve the Lord Himself we are
willing to spend a long time here below and to live with our grief. It
is as if a person were suffering a great trial or a grievous affliction
and we consoled him by telling him to have patience and leave himself
in God’s hands so that His will might be fulfilled in him: it is always
best to leave ourselves in God’s hands.

And what if the devil had anything to do with these strong desires?
This might be possible, as I think is suggested in Cassian’s story of a
hermit, leading the austerest of lives, who was persuaded by the devil
to throw himself down a well so that he might see God the sooner. [69]
I do not think this hermit can have served God either humbly or
efficiently, for the Lord is faithful and His Majesty would never allow
a servant of His to be blinded in a matter in which the truth was so
clear. But, of course, if the desire had come from God, it would have
done the hermit no harm; for such desires bring with them illumination,
moderation and discretion. This is fitting, but our enemy and adversary
seeks to harm us wherever he can; and, as he is not unwatchful, we must
not be so either. This is an important matter in many respects: for
example, we must shorten our time of prayer, however much joy it gives
us, if we see our bodily strength waning or find that our head aches:
discretion is most necessary in everything.

Why do you suppose, daughters, that I have tried, as people say, to
describe the end of the battle before it has begun and to point to its
reward by telling you about the blessing which comes from drinking of
the heavenly source of this living water? I have done this so that you
may not be distressed at the trials and annoyances of the road, and may
tread it with courage and not grow weary; for, as I have said, it may
be that, when you have arrived, and have only to stoop and drink of the
spring, you may fail to do so and lose this blessing, thinking that you
have not the strength to attain it and that it is not for you.

Remember, the Lord invites us all; and, since He is Truth Itself, we
cannot doubt Him. If His invitation were not a general one, He would
not have said: ”I will give you to drink.” He might have said: ”Come,
all of you, for after all you will lose nothing by coming; and I will
give drink to those whom I think fit for it.” But, as He said we were
all to come, without making this condition, I feel sure that none will
fail to receive this living water unless they cannot keep to the path.
[70] May the Lord, Who promises it, give us grace, for His Majesty’s
own sake, to seek it as it must be sought.

[57] Lit.: ”so many days.”

[58] Lit.: ”It will have to go as it comes out.”

[59] St Teresa is probably referring to the treatises of Luis de
Granada and St. Peter of Alcántara (S.S.M, 1, 40-52, II, 106-20). Cf.
Constitutions (Vol. III, p. 236, below).

[60] Lit.: ”of his doing something on (the horse) which is not

[61] St. John iv, 13.

[62] Lit.: ”But this one– no, no.”

[63] The author probably refers to herself: Cf. Life, Chapter XX, and
Relations, passim.

[64] Lit.: ”drowned.”

[65] Lit.: ”We eat it without measure.”

[66] Lit.: ”to cut the thread.”

[67] Presumably a reminiscence of Romans vii, 24 or Philippians i, 23.

[68] This, too, is generally taken as referring to St. Teresa herself.

[69] Cassian: Conferences, II. v.

[70] E. ends the chapter here. This final paragraph appears to be based
upon St. John vii, 37.

Describes how, in one way or another, we never lack consolation on the road of
prayer. Counsels the sisters to include this subject continually in their

In this last chapter I seem to have been contradicting what I had
previously said, as, in consoling those who had not reached the
contemplative state, I told them that the Lord had different roads by
which they might come to Him, just as He also had many mansions. [71] I
now repeat this: His Majesty, being Who He is and understanding our
weakness, has provided for us. But He did not say: ”Some must come by
this way and others by that.” His mercy is so great that He has
forbidden none to strive to come and drink of this fountain of life.
Blessed be He for ever! What good reasons there would have been for His
forbidding me!

But as He did not order me to cease from drinking when I had begun to
do so, but caused me to be plunged into the depths of the water, it is
certain that He will forbid no one to come: indeed, He calls us
publicly, and in a loud voice, to do so. [72] Yet, as He is so good, He
does not force us to drink, but enable those who wish to follow Him to
drink in many ways so that none may lack comfort or die of thirst. For
from this rich spring flow many streams–some large, others small, and
also little pools for children, which they find quite large enough, for
the sight of a great deal of water would frighten them: by children, I
mean those who are in the early stages. [73] Therefore, sisters, have
no fear that you will die of thirst on this road; you will never lack
so much of the water of comfort that your thirst will be intolerable;
so take my advice and do not tarry on the way, but strive like strong
men until you die in the attempt, for you are here for nothing else
than to strive. If you always pursue this determination to die rather
than fail to reach the end of the road, the Lord may bring you through
this life with a certain degree of thirst, but in the life which never
ends He will give you great abundance to drink and you will have no
fear of its failing you. May the Lord grant us never to fail Him. Amen.

Now, in order to set out upon this aforementioned road so that we do
not go astray at the very start, let us consider for a moment how the
first stage of our journey is to be begun, for that is the most
important thing–or rather, every part of the journey is of importance
to the whole. I do not mean to say that no one who has not the
resolution that I am going to describe should set out upon the road,
for the Lord will gradually bring her nearer to perfection. And even if
she did no more than take one step, this alone has such virtue that
there is no fear of her losing it or of failing to be very well
rewarded. We might compare her to someone who has a rosary with a bead
specially indulgenced: [74] one prayer in itself will bring her
something, and the more she uses the bead the more she will gain; but
if she left it in a box and never took it out it would be better for
her not to have it. So, although she may never go any farther along the
same road, the short distance she has progressed will give her light
and thus help her to go along other roads, and the farther she goes the
more light she will gain. In fact, she may be sure that she will do
herself no kind of harm through having started on the road, even if she
leaves it, for good never leads to evil. So, daughters, whenever you
meet people and find them well-disposed and even attracted to the life
of prayer, try to remove from them all fear of beginning a course which
may bring them such great blessings. [75] For the love of God, I beg
you always to see to it that your conversation is benefiting those with
whom you speak. For your prayers must be for the profit of their souls;
and, since you must always pray to the Lord for them, sisters, you
would seem to be doing ill if you did not strive to benefit them in
every possible way.

If you would be a good kinswoman, this is true friendship; if you would
be a good friend, you may be sure that this is the only possible way.
Let the truth be in your hearts, as it will be if you practise
meditation, and you will see clearly what love we are bound to have for
our neighbours. This is no time for child’s play, sisters, and these
worldly friendships, good though they may be, seem no more than that.
Neither with your relatives nor with anyone else must you use such
phrases as ”If you love me”, or ”Don’t you love me?” unless you have in
view some noble end and the profit of the person to whom you are
speaking. It may be necessary, in order to get a relative –a brother
or some such person–to listen to the truth and accept it, to prepare
him for it by using such phrases and showing him signs of love, which
are always pleasing to sense. He may possibly be more affected, and
influenced, by one kind word, as such phrases are called, than by a
great deal which you might say about God, and then there would be
plenty of opportunities for you to talk to him about God afterwards. I
do not forbid such phrases, therefore, provided you use them in order
to bring someone profit. But for no other reason can there be any good
in them and they may even do harm without your being aware of it.
Everybody knows that you are nuns and that your business is prayer. Do
not say to yourselves: ”I have no wish to be considered good,” for what
people see in you is bound to bring them either profit or harm. People
like nuns, on whom is laid the obligation to speak of nothing save in
the spirit of God, [76] act very wrongly if they dissemble in this way,
except occasionally for the purpose of doing greater good. Your
intercourse and conversation must be like this: let any who wish to
talk to you learn your language; and, if they will not, be careful
never to learn theirs: it might lead you to hell.

It matters little if you are considered ill-bred and still less if you
are taken for hypocrites: indeed, you will gain by this, because only
those who understand your language will come to see you. If one knows
no Arabic, one has no desire to talk a great deal with a person who
knows no other language. So worldly people will neither weary you nor
do you harm– and it would do you no small harm to have to begin to
learn and talk a new language; you would spend all your time learning
it. You cannot know as well as I do, for I have found it out by
experience, how very bad this is for the soul; no sooner does it learn
one thing than it has to forget another and it never has any rest. This
you must at all costs avoid; for peace and quiet in the soul are of
great importance on the road which we are about to tread.

If those with whom you converse wish to learn your language, it is not
for you to teach it to them, but you can tell them what wealth they
will gain by learning it. Never grow tried of this, but do it piously,
lovingly and prayerfully, with a view to helping them; they will then
realize what great gain it brings, and will go and seek a master to
teach it them. Our Lord would be doing you no light favour if through
your agency He were to arouse some soul to obtain this blessing. When
once one begins to describe this road, what a large number of things
there are to be said about it, even by those who have trodden it as
unsuccessfully as I have! I only wish I could write with both hands, so
as not to forget one thing while I am saying another. May it please the
Lord, sisters, that you may be enabled to speak of it better than I
have done.

[71] There is a reference here to St. John xiv, 2.

[72] St. John vii, 37.

[73] Lit.: ”these are they who are, etc.”

[74] Cuenta de perdones: a bead larger in size than the remainder in
the rosary and carrying special indulgences for the souls in purgatory.

[75] Lit.: ”of beginning so great a good.”

[76] Lit.: ”save in God”–i.e., save as those whose life is centred in
God: not necessarily, I think, only of God.