Life of St Teresa of Jesus, Teresa of Avila [top ten books to read TXT] 📗

twenty-five years

only after the vision.

4. See ch. xxvii. § 3.

5. In the parlour of the monastery of the Incarnation, Avila, a

painting of this is preserved to this day (De la Fuente).

6. Ch. vi. § 4.

7. See Inner Fortress, v. iii. § 1.

8. Ch. i. § i.

9. Ch. xix. §§ 9, 17.

10. See § 2, above.

11. See ch. xi. § 23: Inner Fortress, vi. i. § 8.

12. § 16.

13. See Inner Fortress, v. iii. § 1.

14. In 1541, when the Saint was twenty-five years of age (Bouix).

15. F. Vicente Barron (Reforma, lib. i. ch. xv.).

16. See ch. xxxviii. § 1.

17. See ch. xix. § 19.

18. The Spanish editor calls attention to this as a proof of

great laxity in those days—that a nun like St. Teresa should be

urged to communicate as often as once in a fortnight.

19. See ch. xiii. §§ 7, 8.

Chapter VIII.

The Saint Ceases Not to Pray. Prayer the Way to Recover What

Is Lost. All Exhorted to Pray. The Great Advantage of Prayer,

Even to Those Who May Have Ceased from It.

1. It is not without reason that I have dwelt so long on this

portion of my life. I see clearly that it will give no one

pleasure to see anything so base; and certainly I wish those who

may read this to have me in abhorrence, as a soul so obstinate

and so ungrateful to Him Who did so much for me. I could wish,

too, I had permission to say how often at this time I failed in

my duty to God, because I was not leaning on the strong pillar of

prayer. I passed nearly twenty years on this stormy sea, falling

and rising, but rising to no good purpose, seeing that I went and

fell again. My life was one of perfection; but it was so mean,

that I scarcely made any account whatever of venial sins; and

though of mortal sins I was afraid, I was not so afraid of them

as I ought to have been, because I did not avoid the perilous

occasions of them. I may say that it was the most painful life

that can be imagined, because I had no sweetness in God, and no

pleasure in the world.

2. When I was in the midst of the pleasures of the world, the

remembrance of what I owed to God made me sad; and when I was

praying to God, my worldly affections disturbed me. This is so

painful a struggle, that I know not how I could have borne it for

a month, let alone for so many years. Nevertheless, I can trace

distinctly the great mercy of our Lord to me, while thus immersed

in the world, in that I had still the courage to pray. I say

courage, because I know of nothing in the whole world which

requires greater courage than plotting treason against the King,

knowing that He knows it, and yet never withdrawing from His

presence; for, granting that we are always in the presence of

God, yet it seems to me that those who pray arc in His presence

in a very different sense; for they, as it were, see that He is

looking upon them; while others may be for days together without

even once recollecting that God sees them.

3. It is true, indeed, that during these years there were many

months, and, I believe, occasionally a whole year, in which I so

kept guard over myself that I did not offend our Lord, gave

myself much to prayer, and took some pains, and that

successfully, not to offend Him. I speak of this now, because

all I am saying is strictly true; but I remember very little of

those good days, and so they must have been few, while my evil

days were many. Still, the days that passed over without my

spending a great part of them in prayer were few, unless I was

very ill, or very much occupied.

4. When I was ill, I was well with God. I contrived that those

about me should be so, too, and I made supplications to our Lord

for this grace, and spoke frequently of Him. Thus, with the

exception of that year of which I have been speaking, during

eight-and-twenty years of prayer, I spent more than eighteen in

that strife and contention which arose out of my attempts to

reconcile God and the world. As to the other years, of which I

have now to speak, in them the grounds of the warfare, though it

was not slight, were changed; but inasmuch as I was—at least, I

think so—serving God, and aware of the vanity of the world, all

has been pleasant, as I shall show hereafter. [1]

5. The reason, then, of my telling this at so great a length is

that, as I have just said, [2] the mercy of God and my

ingratitude, on the one hand, may become known; and, on the

other, that men may understand how great is the good which God

works in a soul when He gives it a disposition to pray in

earnest, though it may not be so well prepared as it ought to be.

If that soul perseveres in spite of sins, temptations, and

relapses, brought about in a thousand ways by Satan, our Lord

will bring it at last—I am certain of it—to the harbour of

salvation, as He has brought me myself; for so it seems to me

now. May His Majesty grant I may never go back and be lost!

He who gives himself to prayer is in possession of a great

blessing, of which many saintly and good men have written—I am

speaking of mental prayer—glory be to God for it; and, if they

had not done so, I am not proud enough, though I have but little

humility, to presume to discuss it.

6. I may speak of that which I know by experience; and so I say,

let him never cease from prayer who has once begun it, be his

life ever so wicked; for prayer is the way to amend it, and

without prayer such amendment will be much more difficult.

Let him not be tempted by Satan, as I was, to give it up, on the

pretence of humility; [3] let him rather believe that His words

are true Who says that, if we truly repent, and resolve never to

offend Him, He will take us into His favour again, [4] give us

the graces He gave us before, and occasionally even greater, if

our repentance deserve it. And as to him who has not begun to

pray, I implore him by the love of our Lord not to deprive

himself of so great a good.

7. Herein there is nothing to be afraid of, but everything to

hope for. Granting that such a one does not advance, nor make an

effort to become perfect, so as to merit the joys and

consolations which the perfect receive from God, yet he will by

little and little attain to a knowledge of the road which leads

to heaven. And if he perseveres, I hope in the mercy of God for

him, seeing that no one ever took Him for his friend that was not

amply rewarded; for mental prayer is nothing else, in my opinion,

but being on terms of friendship with God, frequently conversing

in secret with Him Who, we know, loves us. Now, true love and

lasting friendship require certain dispositions: those of our

Lord, we know, are absolutely perfect; ours, vicious, sensual,

and thankless; and you cannot therefore, bring yourselves to love

Him as He loves you, because you have not the disposition to do

so; and if you do not love Him, yet, seeing how much it concerns

you to have His friendship, and how great is His love for you,

rise above that pain you feel at being much with Him Who is so

different from you.

8. O infinite goodness of my God! I seem to see Thee and myself

in this relation to one another. O Joy of the angels! when I

consider it, I wish I could wholly die of love! How true it is

that Thou endurest those who will not endure Thee! Oh, how good

a friend art Thou, O my Lord! how Thou comfortest and endurest,

and also waitest for them to make themselves like unto Thee, and

yet, in the meanwhile, art Thyself so patient of the state they

are in! Thou takest into account the occasions during which they

seek Thee, and for a moment of penitence forgettest their

offences against Thyself.

9. I have seen this distinctly in my own case, and I cannot tell

why the whole world does not labour to draw near to Thee in this

particular friendship. The wicked, who do not resemble Thee,

ought to do so, in order that Thou mayest make them good, and for

that purpose should permit Thee to remain with them at least for

two hours daily, even though they may not remain with Thee but,

as I used to do, with a thousand distractions, and with worldly

thoughts. In return for this violence which they offer to

themselves for the purpose of remaining in a company so good as

Thine—for at first they can do no more, and even afterwards at

times—Thou, O Lord, defendest them against the assaults of evil

spirits, whose power Thou restrainest, and even lessenest daily,

giving to them the victory over these their enemies. So it is, O

Life of all lives, Thou slayest none that put their trust in

Thee, and seek Thy friendship; yea, rather, Thou sustainest their

bodily life in greater vigour, and makest their soul to live.

10. I do not understand what there can be to make them afraid who

are afraid to begin mental prayer, nor do I know what it is they

dread. The devil does well to bring this fear upon us, that he

may really hurt us by putting me in fear, he can make me cease

from thinking of my offences against God, of the great debt I owe

Him, of the existence of heaven and hell, and of the great

sorrows and trials He underwent for me. That was all my prayer,

and had been, when I was in this dangerous state, and it was on

those subjects I dwelt whenever I could; and very often, for some

years, I was more occupied with the wish to see the end of the

time I had appointed for myself to spend in prayer, and in

watching the hour-glass, than with other thoughts that were good.

If a sharp penance had been laid upon me, I know of none that I

would not very often have willingly undertaken, rather than

prepare myself for prayer by self-recollection. And certainly

the violence with which Satan assailed me was so irresistible, or

my evil habits were so strong, that I did not betake myself to

prayer; and the sadness I felt on entering the oratory was so

great, that it required all the courage I had to force myself in.

They say of me that my courage is not slight, and it is known

that God has given me a courage beyond that of a woman; but I

have made a bad use of it. In the end, our Lord came to my help;

and then, when I had done this violence to myself, I found

greater peace and joy than I sometimes had when I had a desire

to pray.

11. If, then, our Lord