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The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus

T >> Teresa of Avila >> The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus




3. And so I say that if I were asked which I preferred, to endure
all the trials of the world until the end of it, and then receive
one slight degree of glory additional, or without any suffering
of any kind to enter into glory of a slightly lower degree, I
would accept--oh, how willingly!--all those trials for one slight
degree of fruition in the contemplation of the greatness of God;
for I know that he who understands Him best, loves Him and
praises Him best. I do not mean that I should not be satisfied,
and consider myself most blessed, to be in heaven, even if I
should be in the lowest place; for as I am one who had that place
in hell, it would be a great mercy of our Lord to admit me at
all; and may it please His Majesty to bring me thither, and take
away His eyes from beholding my grievous sins. What I mean is
this,--if it were in my power, even if it cost me everything, and
our Lord gave me the grace to endure much affliction, I would not
through any fault of mine lose one degree of glory. Ah, wretched
that I am, who by so many faults had forfeited all!

4. It is also to be observed that, in every vision or revelation
which our Lord in His mercy sent me, a great gain accrued to my
soul, and that in some of the visions this gain was very great.
The vision of Christ left behind an impression of His exceeding
beauty, and it remains with me to this day. One vision alone of
Him is enough to effect this; what, then, must all those visions
have done, which our Lord in His mercy sent me? One exceedingly
great blessing has resulted therefrom, and it is this,--I had one
very grievous fault, which was the source of much evil; namely,
whenever I found anybody well disposed towards myself, and I
liked him, I used to have such an affection for him as compelled
me always to remember and think of him, though I had no intention
of offending God: however, I was pleased to see him, to think of
him and of his good qualities. All this was so hurtful, that it
brought my soul to the very verge of destruction.

5. But ever since I saw the great beauty [4] of our Lord, I never
saw any one who in comparison with Him seemed even endurable, or
that could occupy my thoughts. For if I but turn mine eyes
inwardly for a moment to the contemplation of the image which I
have within me, I find myself so free, that from that instant
everything I see is loathsome in comparison with the excellences
and graces of which I had a vision in our Lord. Neither is there
any sweetness, nor any kind of pleasure, which I can make any
account of, compared with that which comes from hearing but one
word from His divine mouth. What, then, must it be when I hear
so many? I look upon it as impossible--unless our Lord, for my
sins, should permit the loss of this remembrance--that I should
have the power to occupy myself with anything in such a way as
that I should not instantly recover my liberty by thinking of
our Lord.

6. This has happened to me with some of my confessors, for I
always have a great affection for those who have the direction of
my soul. As I really saw in them only the representatives of
God, I thought my will was always there where it is most
occupied; and as I felt very safe in the matter, I always showed
myself glad to see them. [5] They, on the other hand, servants
of God, and fearing Him, were afraid that I was attaching and
binding myself too much to them, though in a holy way, and
treated me with rudeness. This took place after I had become so
ready to obey them; for before that time I had no affection
whatever for them. I used to laugh to myself, when I saw how
much they were deceived. Though I was not always putting before
them how little I was attached to anybody, as clearly as I was
convinced of it myself, yet I did assure them of it; and they, in
their further relations with me, acknowledged how much I owed to
our Lord in the matter. These suspicions of me always arose in
the beginning.

7. My love of, and trust in, our Lord, after I had seen Him in a
vision, began to grow, for my converse with Him was so continual.
I saw that, though He was God, He was man also; that He is not
surprised at the frailties of men, that He understands our
miserable nature, liable to fall continually, because of the
first sin, for the reparation of which He had come. I could
speak to Him as to a friend, though He is my Lord, because I do
not consider Him as one of our earthly Lords, who affect a power
they do not possess, who give audience at fixed hours, and to
whom only certain persons may speak. If a poor man have any
business with these, it will cost him many goings and comings,
and currying favour with others, together with much pain and
labour before he can speak to them. Ah, if such a one has
business with a king! Poor people, not of gentle blood, cannot
approach him, for they must apply to those who are his friends,
and certainly these are not persons who tread the world under
their feet; for they who do this speak the truth, fear nothing,
and ought to fear nothing; they are not courtiers, because it is
not the custom of a court, where they must be silent about those
things they dislike, must not even dare to think about them, lest
they should fall into disgrace.

8. O King of glory, and Lord of all kings! oh, how Thy kingly
dignity is not hedged about by trifles of this kind! Thy kingdom
is for ever. We do not require chamberlains to introduce us into
Thy presence. The very vision of Thy person shows us at once
that Thou alone art to be called Lord. Thy Majesty is so
manifest that there is no need of a retinue or guard to make us
confess that Thou art King. An earthly king without attendants
would be hardly acknowledged; and though he might wish ever so
much to be recognised, people will not own him when he appears as
others; it is necessary that his dignity should be visible, if
people are to believe in it. This is reason enough why kings
should affect so much state; for if they had none, no one would
respect them; this their semblance of power is not in themselves,
and their authority must come to them from others.

9. O my Lord! O my King! who can describe Thy Majesty? It is
impossible not to see that Thou art Thyself the great Ruler of
all, that the beholding of Thy Majesty fills men with awe. But I
am filled with greater awe, O my Lord, when I consider Thy
humility, and the love Thou hast for such as I am. We can
converse and speak with Thee about everything whenever we will;
and when we lose our first fear and awe at the vision of Thy
Majesty, we have a greater dread of offending Thee,--not arising
out of the fear of punishment, O my Lord, for that is as nothing
in comparison with the loss of Thee!

10. Thus far of the blessings of this vision, without speaking of
others, which abide in the soul when it is past. If it be from
God, the fruits thereof show it, when the soul receives light;
for, as I have often said, [6] the will of our Lord is that the
soul should be in darkness, and not see this light. It is,
therefore, nothing to be wondered at that I, knowing myself to be
so wicked as I am, should be afraid.

11. It is only just now it happened to me to be for eight days in
a state wherein it seemed that I did not, and could not, confess
my obligations to God, or remember His mercies; but my soul was
so stupefied, and occupied with I know not what nor how: not that
I had any bad thoughts; only I was so incapable of good thoughts,
that I was laughing at myself, and even rejoicing to see how mean
a soul can be if God is not always working in it. [7] The soul
sees clearly that God is not away from it in this state, and that
it is not in those great tribulations which I have spoken of as
being occasionally mine. Though it heaps up fuel, and does the
little it can do of itself, it cannot make the fire of the love
of God burn: it is a great mercy that even the smoke is visible,
showing that it is not altogether quenched. Our Lord will return
and kindle it; and until then the soul--though it may lose its
breath in blowing and arranging the fuel--seems to be doing
nothing but putting it out more and more.

12. I believe that now the best course is to be absolutely
resigned, confessing that we can do nothing, and so apply
ourselves--as I said before [8]--to something else which is
meritorious. Our Lord, it may be, takes away from the soul the
power of praying, that it may betake itself to something else,
and learn by experience how little it can do in its own strength.

13. It is true I have this day been rejoicing in our Lord, and
have dared to complain of His Majesty. I said unto Him: How is
it, O my God, that it is not enough for Thee to detain me in this
wretched life, and that I should have to bear with it for the
love of Thee, and be willing to live where everything hinders the
fruition of Thee; where, besides, I must eat and sleep, transact
business, and converse with every one, and all for Thy love? how
is it, then,--for Thou well knowest, O my Lord, all this to be
the greatest torment unto me,--that, in the rare moments when I
am with Thee, Thou hidest Thyself from me? How is this
consistent with Thy compassion? How can that love Thou hast for
me endure this? I believe, O Lord, if it were possible for me to
hide myself from Thee, as Thou hidest Thyself from me--I think
and believe so--such is Thy love, that Thou wouldest not endure
it at my hands. But Thou art with me, and seest me always. O my
Lord, I beseech Thee look to this; it must not be; a wrong is
done to one who loves Thee so much.

14. I happened to utter these words, and others of the same kind,
when I should have been thinking rather how my place in hell was
pleasant in comparison with the place I deserved. But now and
then my love makes me foolish, so that I lose my senses; only it
is with all the sense I have that I make these complaints, and
our Lord bears it all. Blessed be so good a King!

15. Can we be thus bold with the kings of this world? And yet I
am not surprised that we dare not thus speak to a king, for it is
only reasonable that men should be afraid of him, or even to the
great lords who are his representatives. The world is now come
to such a state, that men's lives ought to be longer than they
are if we are to learn all the new customs and ceremonies of good
breeding, and yet spend any time in the service of God. I bless
myself at the sight of what is going on. The fact is, I did not
know how I was to live when I came into this house.
Any negligence in being much more ceremonious with people than
they deserve is not taken as a jest; on the contrary, they look
upon it as an insult deliberately offered; so that it becomes
necessary for you to satisfy them of your good intentions, if
there happens, as I have said, to have been any negligence; and
even then, God grant they may believe you.

16. I repeat it,--I certainly did not know how to live; for my
poor soul was worn out. It is told to employ all its thoughts
always on God, and that it is necessary to do so if it would
avoid many dangers. On the other hand, it finds it will not do
to fail in any one point of the world's law, under the penalty of
affronting those who look upon these things as touching their
honour. I was worn out in unceasingly giving satisfaction to
people; for, though I tried my utmost, I could not help failing
in many ways in matters which, as I have said, are not slightly
thought of in the world.

17. Is it true that in religious houses no explanations are
necessary, for it is only reasonable we should be excused these
observances? Well, that is not so; for there are people who say
that monasteries ought to be courts in politeness and
instruction. I certainly cannot understand it. I thought that
perhaps some saint may have said that they ought to be courts to
teach those who wish to be the courtiers of heaven, and that
these people misunderstood their meaning; for if a man be careful
to please God continually, and to hate the world, as he ought to
do, I do not see how he can be equally careful to please those
who live in the world in these matters which are continually
changing. If they could be learnt once for all, it might be
borne with: but as to the way of addressing letters, there ought
to be a professor's chair founded, from which lectures should be
given, so to speak, teaching us how to do it; for the paper
should on one occasion be left blank in one corner, and on
another in another corner; and a man must be addressed as the
illustrious who was not hitherto addressed as the magnificent.

18. I know not where this will stop: I am not yet fifty, and yet
I have seen so many changes during my life, that I do not know
how to live. What will they do who are only just born, and who
may live many years? Certainly I am sorry for those spiritual
people who, for certain holy purposes, are obliged to live in the
world; the cross they have to carry is a dreadful one. If they
could all agree together, and make themselves ignorant, and be
willing to be considered so in these sciences, they would set
themselves free from much trouble. But what folly am I about!
from speaking of the greatness of God I am come to speak of the
meanness of the world! Since our Lord has given me the grace to
quit it, I wish to leave it altogether. Let them settle these
matters who maintain these follies with so much labour.
God grant that in the next life, where there is no changing, we
may not have to pay for them! Amen.


1. The Saint, having interrupted her account of her interior life
in order to give the history of the foundation of the monastery
of St. Joseph, Avila,--the first house of the Reformed
Carmelites,--here resumes that account broken off at the end of §
10 of ch. xxxii.

2. Ephes. i. 14: "Pignus hæreditatis nostræ."

3. St. John iii. 34: "Non enim ad mensuram dat Deus spiritum."

4. Ch. xxviii. §§ 1-5.

5. See ch. xl. § 24; Way of Perfection, ch. vii. § 1; but
ch. iv. of the previous editions.

6. See ch. xx. § 14.

7. See ch. xxx. § 19.

8. See ch. xxx. §§ 18, 25.



Chapter XXXVIII.


Certain Heavenly Secrets, Visions, and Revelations. The Effects
of Them in Her Soul.


1. One night I was so unwell that I thought I might be excused
making my prayer; so I took my rosary, that I might employ myself
in vocal prayer, trying not to be recollected in my
understanding, though outwardly I was recollected, being in my
oratory. These little precautions are of no use when our Lord
will have it otherwise. I remained there but a few moments thus,
when I was rapt in spirit with such violence that I could make no
resistance whatever. It seemed to me that I was taken up to
heaven; and the first persons I saw there were my father and my
mother. I saw other things also; but the time was no longer than
that in which the Ave Maria might be said, and I was amazed at
it, looking on it all as too great a grace for me. But as to the
shortness of the time, it might have been longer, only it was all
done in a very short space.

2. I was afraid it might be an illusion; but as I did not think
so, I knew not what to do, because I was very much ashamed to go
to my confessor about it. It was not, as it seemed to me,
because I was humble, but because I thought he would laugh at me,
and say: Oh, what a St. Paul!--she sees the things of heaven; or
a St. Jerome. And because these glorious Saints had had such
visions, I was so much the more afraid, and did nothing but cry;
for I did not think it possible for me to see what they saw.
At last, though I felt it exceedingly, I went to my confessor;
for I never dared to keep secret anything of this kind, however
much it distressed me to speak of them, owing to the great fear I
had of being deceived. When my confessor saw how much I was
suffering, he consoled me greatly, and gave me plenty of good
reasons why I should have no fear.

3. It happened, also, as time went on, and it happens now from
time to time, that our Lord showed me still greater secrets.
The soul, even if it would, has neither the means not the power
to see more than what He shows it; and so, each time, I saw
nothing more than what our Lord was pleased to let me see.
But such was the vision, that the least part of it was enough to
make my soul amazed, and to raise it so high that it esteems and
counts as nothing all the things of this life. I wish I could
describe, in some measure, the smallest portion of what I saw;
but when I think of doing it, I find it impossible; for the mere
difference alone between the light we have here below, and that
which is seen in a vision,--both being light,--is so great, that
there is no comparison between them; the brightness of the sun
itself seems to be something exceedingly loathsome. In a word,
the imagination, however strong it may be, can neither conceive
nor picture to itself this light, nor any one of the things which
our Lord showed me in a joy so supreme that it cannot be
described; for then all the senses exult so deeply and so sweetly
that no description is possible; and so it is better to say
nothing more.

4. I was in this state once for more than an hour, our Lord
showing me wonderful things. He seemed as if He would not leave
me. He said to me, "See, My daughter, what they lose who are
against Me; do not fail to tell them of it." Ah, my Lord, how
little good my words will do them, who are made blind by their
own conduct, if Thy Majesty will not give them light! Some, to
whom Thou hast given it, there are, who have profited by the
knowledge of Thy greatness; but as they see it revealed to one so
wicked and base as I am, I look upon it as a great thing if there
should be any found to believe me. Blessed be Thy name, and
blessed be Thy compassion; for I can trace, at least in my own
soul, a visible improvement. Afterwards I wished I had continued
in that trance for ever, and that I had not returned to
consciousness, because of an abiding sense of contempt for
everything here below; all seemed to be filth; and I see how
meanly we employ ourselves who are detained on earth.

5. When I was staying with that lady of whom I have been
speaking, [1] it happened to me once when I was suffering from my
heart,--for, as I have said, [2] I suffered greatly at one time,
though not so much now,--that she, being a person of great
charity, brought out her jewels set in gold, and precious stones
of great price, and particularly a diamond, which she valued very
much. She thought this might amuse me; but I laughed to myself,
and was very sorry to see what men made much of; for I thought of
what our Lord had laid up for us, and considered how impossible
it was for me, even if I made the effort, to have any
appreciation whatever of such things, provided our Lord did not
permit me to forget what He was keeping for us.

6. A soul in this state attains to a certain freedom, which is so
complete that none can understand it who does not possess it.
It is a real and true detachment, independent of our efforts; God
effects it all Himself; for His Majesty reveals the truth in such
a way, that it remains so deeply impressed on our souls as to
make it clear that we of ourselves could not thus acquire it in
so short a time.

7. The fear of death, also, was now very slight in me, who had
always been in great dread of it; now it seems to me that death
is a very light thing for one who serves God, because the soul is
in a moment delivered thereby out of its prison, and at rest.
This elevation of the spirit, and the vision of things so high,
in these trances seem to me to have a great likeness to the
flight of the soul from the body, in that it finds itself in a
moment in the possession of these good things. We put aside the
agonies of its dissolution, of which no great account is to be
made; for they who love God in truth, and are utterly detached
from the things of this life, must die with the
greater sweetness.

8. It seems to me, also, that the rapture was a great help to
recognise our true home, and to see that we are pilgrims
here; [3] it is a great thing to see what is going on there and
to know where we have to live; for if a person has to go and
settle in another country, it is a great help to him, in
undergoing the fatigues of his journey, that he has discovered it
to be a country where he may live in the most perfect peace.
Moreover, it makes it easy for us to think of the things of
heaven, and to have our conversation there. [4] It is a great
gain, because the mere looking up to heaven makes the soul
recollected; for as our Lord has been pleased to reveal heaven in
some degree, my soul dwells upon it in thought; and it happens
occasionally that they who are about me, and with whom I find
consolation, are those whom I know to be living in heaven, and
that I look upon them only as really alive; while those who are
on earth are so dead, that the whole world seems unable to
furnish me with companions, particularly when these impetuosities
of love are upon me. Everything seems a dream, and what I see
with the bodily eyes an illusion. What I have seen with the eyes
of the soul is that which my soul desires; and as it finds itself
far away from those things, that is death.

9. In a word, it is a very great mercy which our Lord gives to
that soul to which He grants the like visions, for they help it
in much, and also in carrying a heavy cross, since nothing
satisfies it, and everything is against it; and if our Lord did
not now and then suffer these visions to be forgotten, though
they recur again and again to the memory, I know not how life
could be borne. May He be blessed and praised for ever and ever!
I implore His Majesty by that Blood which His Son shed for me,
now that, of His good pleasure, I know something of these great
blessings, and begin to have the fruition of them, that it may
not be with me as it was with Lucifer, who by his own fault
forfeited it all. I beseech Thee, for Thine own sake, not to
suffer this; for I am at times in great fear, though at others,
and most frequently, the mercy of God reassures me, for He who
has delivered me from so many sins will not withdraw His hand
from under me, and let me be lost. I pray you, my father, to beg
this grace for me always.

10. The mercies, then, hitherto described, are not, in my
opinion, so great as those which I am now going to speak of, on
many accounts, because of the great blessings they have brought
with them, and because of the great fortitude which my soul
derived from them; and yet every one separately considered is so
great, that there is nothing to be compared with them.

11. One day--it was the eve of Pentecost--I went after Mass to a
very lonely spot, where I used to pray very often, and began to
read about the feast in the book of a Carthusian; [5] and reading
of the marks by which beginners, proficients, and the perfect may
know that they have the Holy Ghost, it seemed to me, when I had
read of these three states, that by the goodness of God, so far
as I could understand, the Holy Ghost was with me. I praised God
for it; and calling to mind how on another occasion, when I read
this, I was very deficient,--for I saw most distinctly at that
time how deficient I was then from what I saw I was now,--I
recognised herein the great mercy of our Lord to me, and so began
to consider the place which my sins had earned for me in hell,
and praised God exceedingly, because it seemed as if I did not
know my own soul again, so great a change had come over it.

12. While thinking of these things, my soul was carried away with
extreme violence, and I knew not why. It seemed as if it would
have gone forth out of the body, for it could not contain itself,
nor was it able to hope for so great a good. The impetuosity was
so excessive that I had no power left, and, as I think, different
from what I had been used to. I knew not what ailed my soul, nor
what it desired, for it was so changed. I leaned for support,
for I could not sit, because my natural strength had
utterly failed.

13. Then I saw over my head a dove, very different from those we
usually see, for it had not the same plumage, but wings formed of
small shells shining brightly. It was larger than an ordinary
dove; I thought I heard the rustling of its wings. It hovered
above me during the space of an Ave Maria. But such was the
state of my soul, that in losing itself it lost also the sight of
the dove. My spirit grew calm with such a guest; and yet, as I
think, a grace so wonderful might have disturbed and frightened
it; and as it began to rejoice in the vision, it was delivered
from all fear, and with the joy came peace, my soul continuing
entranced. The joy of this rapture was exceedingly great; and
for the rest of that festal time I was so amazed and bewildered
that I did not know what I was doing, nor how I could have
received so great a grace. I neither heard nor saw anything, so
to speak, because of my great inward joy. From that day forth I
perceived in myself a very great progress in the highest love of
God, together with a great increase in the strength of my
virtues. May He be blessed and praised for ever! Amen.

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