INTERIOR CASTLE
JHS.
FEW tasks which I have been commanded to undertake by obedience have been so difficult as this present one of writing about matters relating to prayer: for one reason, because I do not feel that the Lord has given me either the spirituality or the desire for it; for another, because for the last three months I have been suffering from such noises and weakness in the head that I find it troublesome to write even about necessary business. But, as I know that strength arising from obedience has a way of simplifying things which seem impossible, my will very gladly resolves to attempt this task alhough the prospect seems to cause my physical nature great distress; for the Lord has not given me strength enough to enable me to wrestle continually both with sickness and with occupations of many kinds without feeling a great physical strain. May He Who has helped me by doing other and more difficult things for me help also in this: in His mercy I put my trust.
I really think I have little to say that I have not already said in other books which I have been commanded to write; indeed, I am afraid that I shall do little but repeat myself, for I write as mechanically as birds taught to speak, which, knowing nothing but what is taught them and what they hear, repeat the same things again and again. If the Lord wishes me to say anything new, His Majesty will teach it me or be pleased to recall to my memory what I have said on former occasions; and I should be quite satisfied with this, for my memory is so bad that I should be delighted if I could manage to write down a few of the things which people have considered well said, so that they should not be lost. If the Lord should not grant me as much as this, I shall still be the better for having tried, even if this writing under obedience tires me and makes my head worse, and if no one finds what I say of any profit.
And so I begin to fulfil my obligation on this Day of the Holy Trinity, in the year MDLXXVII, in this convent of St. Joseph of Carmel in Toledo, where I am at this present, submitting myself as regards all that I say to the judgment of those who have commanded me to write, and who are persons of great learning. If I should say anything that is not in conformity with what is held by the Holy Roman Catholic Church, it will be through ignorance and not through malice. This may be taken as certain, and also that, through God's goodness, I am, and shall always be, as I always have been, subject to her. May He be for ever blessed and glorified. Amen.
I was told by the person who commanded me to write that, as the nuns of these convents of Our Lady of Carmel need someone to solve their difficulties concerning prayer, and as (or so it seemed to him) women best understand each other's language, and also in view of their love for me, anything I might say would be particularly useful to them. For this reason he thought that it would be rather important if I could explain things clearly to them and for this reason it is they whom I shall be addressing in what I write — and also because it seems ridiculous to think that I can be of any use to anyone else. Our Lord will be granting me a great favour if a single one of these nuns should find that my words help her to praise Him ever so little better. His Majesty well knows that I have no hope of doing more, and, if I am successful in anything that I may say, they will of course understand that it does not come from me. Their only excuse for crediting me with it could be their having as little understanding as I have ability in these matters if the Lord of His mercy does not grant it me.
FIRST MANSIONS
In which there are Two Chapters.
CHAPTER I
Treats of the beauty and dignity of our souls; makes a comparison by the help of which this may be understood; describes the benefit which comes from understanding it and being aware of the favours which we receive from God; and shows how the door of this castle is prayer.
WHILE I was beseeching Our Lord to-day that He would speak through me, since I could find nothing to say and had no idea how to begin to carry out the obligation laid upon me by obedience, a thought occurred to me which I will now set down, in order to have some foundation on which to build. I began to think of the soul as if it were a castle made of a single diamond or of very clear crystal, in which there are many rooms, just as in Heaven there are many mansions. Now if we think carefully over this, sisters, the soul of the righteous man is nothing but a paradise, in which, as God tells us, He takes His delight. For what do you think a room will be like which is the delight of a King so mighty, so wise, so pure and so full of all that is good? I can find nothing with which to compare the great beauty of a soul and its great capacity. In fact, however acute our intellects may be, They will no more be able to attain to a comprehension of this than to an understanding of God; for, as He Himself says, He created us in His image and likeness. Now if this is so — and it is — there is no point in our fatiguing ourselves by attempting to comprehend the beauty of this castle; for, though it is His creature, and there is therefore as much difference between it and God as between creature and Creator, the very fact that His Majesty says it is made in His image means that we can hardly form any conception of the soul's great dignity and beauty.
It is no small pity, and should cause us no little shame, that, through our own fault, we do not understand ourselves, or know who we are. Would it not be a sign of great ignorance, my daughters, if a person were asked who he was, and could not say, and had no idea who his father or his mother was, or from what country he came? Though that is great stupidity, our own is incomparably greater if we make no attempt to discover what we are, and only know that we are living in these bodies, and have a vague idea, because we have heard it and because our Faith tells us so, that we possess souls. As to what good qualities there may be in our souls, or Who dwells within them, or how precious they are — those are things which we seldom consider and so we trouble little about carefully preserving the soul's beauty. All our interest is centred in the rough setting of the diamond, and in the outer wall of the castle — that is to say, in these bodies of ours.
Let us now imagine that this castle, as I have said, contains many mansions, some above, others below, others at each side; and in the centre and midst of them all is the chiefest mansion where the most secret things pass between God and the soul. You must think over this comparison very carefully; perhaps God will be pleased to use it to show you something of the favours which He is pleased to grant to souls, and of the differences between them, so far as I have understood this to be possible, for there are so many of them that nobody can possibly understand them all, much less anyone as stupid as I. If the Lord grants you these favours, it will be a great consolation to you to know that such things are possible; and, if you never receive any, you can still praise His great goodness. For, as it does us no harm to think of the things laid up for us in Heaven, and of the joys of the blessed, but rather makes us rejoice and strive to attain those joys ourselves, just so it will do us no harm to find that it is possible in this our exile for so great a God to commune with such malodorous worms, and to love Him for His great goodness and boundless mercy. I am sure that anyone who finds it harmful to realize that it is possible for God to grant such favours during this our exile must be greatly lacking in humility and in love of his neighbour; for otherwise how could we help rejoicing that God should grant these favours to one of our brethren when this in no way hinders Him from granting them to ourselves, and that His Majesty should bestow an understanding of His greatness upon anyone soever? Sometimes He will do this only to manifest His power, as He said of the blind man to whom He gave his sight, when the Apostles asked Him if he were suffering for his own sins or for the sins of his parents. He grants these favours, then, not because those who receive them are holier than those who do not, but in order that His greatness may be made known, as we see in the case of Saint Paul and the Magdalen, and in order that we may praise Him in His creatures.
It may be said that these things seem impossible and that it is better not to scandalize the weak. But less harm is done by their disbelieving us than by our failing to edify those to whom God grants these favours, and who will rejoice and will awaken others to a fresh love of Him Who grants such mercies, according to the greatness of His power and majesty. In any case I know that none to whom I am speaking will run into this danger, because they all know and believe that God grants still greater proofs of His love. I am sure that, if any one of you does not believe this, she will never learn it by experience. For God's will is that no bounds should be set to His works. Never do such a thing, then, sisters, if the Lord does not lead you by this road.
Now let us return to our beautiful and delightful castle and see how we can enter it. I seem rather to be talking nonsense, for, if this castle is the soul, there can clearly be no question of our entering it. For we ourselves are the castle: and it would be absurd to tell someone to enter a room when he was in it already! But you must understand that there are many ways of "being" in a place. Many souls remain in the outer court of the castle, which is the place occupied by the guards; they are not interested in entering it, and have no idea what there is in that wonderful place, or who dwells in it, or even how many rooms it has. You will have read certain books on prayer which advise the soul to enter within itself: and that is exactly what this means.
A short time ago I was told by a very learned man that souls without prayer are like people whose bodies or limbs are paralysed: they possess feet and hands but they cannot control them. In the same way, there are souls so infirm and so accustomed to busying themselves with outside affairs that nothing can be done for them, and it seems as though they are incapable of entering within themselves at all. So accustomed have they grown to living all the time with the reptiles and other creatures to be found in the outer court of the castle that they have almost become like them; and although by nature they are so richly endowed as to have the power of holding converse with none other than God Himself, there is nothing that can be done for them. Unless they strive to realize their miserable condition and to remedy it, they will be turned into pillars of salt for not looking within themselves, just as Lot's wife was because she looked back.
As far as I can understand, the door of entry into this castle is prayer and meditation: I do not say mental prayer rather than vocal, for, if it is prayer at all, it must be accompanied by meditation. If a person does not think Whom he is addressing, and what he is asking for, and who it is that is asking and of Whom he is asking it, I do not consider that he is praying at all even though he be constantly moving his lips. True, it is sometimes possible to pray without paying heed to these things, but that is only because they have been thought about previously; if a man is in the habit of speaking to God's Majesty as he would speak to his slave, and never wonders if he is expressing himself properly, but merely utters the words that come to his lips because he has learned them by heart through constant repetition, I do not call that prayer at all — and God grant no Christian may ever speak to Him so! At any rate, sisters, I hope in God that none of you will, for we are accustomed here to talk about interior matters, and that is a good way of keeping oneself from falling into such animal-like habits.
Let us say no more, then, of these paralysed souls, who, unless the Lord Himself comes and commands them to rise, are like the man who had lain beside the pool for thirty years: they are unfortunate creatures and live in great peril. Let us rather think of certain other souls, who do eventually enter the castle. These are very much absorbed in worldly affairs; but their desires are good; sometimes, though infrequently, they commend themselves to Our Lord; and they think about the state of their souls, though not very carefully. Full of a thousand preoccupations as they are, they pray only a few times a month, and as a rule they are thinking all the time of their preoccupations, for they are very much attached to them, and, where their treasure is, there is their heart also. From time to time, however, they shake their minds free of them and it is a great thing that they should know themselves well enough to realize that they are not going the right way to reach the castle door. Eventually they enter the first rooms on the lowest floor, but so many reptiles get in with them that they are unable to appreciate the beauty of the castle or to find any peace within it. Still, they have done a good deal by entering at all.
You will think this is beside the point, daughters, since by the goodness of the Lord you are not one of these. But you must be patient, for there is no other way in which I can explain to you some ideas I have had about certain interior matters concerning prayer. May it please the Lord to enable me to say something about them; for to explain to you what I should like is very difficult unless you have had personal experience; and anyone with such experience, as you will see, cannot help touching upon subjects which, please God, shall, by His mercy, never concern us.
CHAPTER II
Describe the hideousness of a soul in mortal sin, some part of which God was pleased to manifest to a certain person. Says something also of self-knowledge. This chapter is profitable, since it contains some noteworthy matters. Explains in what sense the Mansions are to be understood.
BEFORE passing on, I want you to consider what will be the state of this castle, so beautiful and resplendent this Orient pearl, this tree of life, planted in the living waters of life — namely, in God — when the soul falls into a mortal sin. No thicker darkness exists, and there is nothing dark and black which is not much less so than this. You need know only one thing about it — that, although the Sun Himself, Who has given it all its splendour and beauty, is still there in the centre of the soul, it is as if He were not there for any participation which the soul has in Him, though it is as capable of enjoying Him as is the crystal of reflecting the sun. While in a state like this the soul will find profit in nothing, and hence, being as it is in mortal sin, none of the good works it may do will be of any avail to win it glory; for they will not have their origin in that First Principle, which is God, through Whom alone our virtue is true virtue. And, since this soul has separated itself from Him, it cannot be pleasing in His eyes; for, after all, the intention of a person who commits a mortal sin is not to please Him but to give pleasure to the devil; and, as the devil is darkness itself, the poor soul becomes darkness itself likewise.
I know of a person to whom Our Lord wished to show what a soul was like when it committed mortal sin. That person says that, if people could understand this, she thinks they would find it impossible to sin at all, and, rather than meet occasions of sin, would put themselves to the greatest trouble imaginable. So she was very anxious that everyone should realize this. May you be no less anxious, daughters, to pray earnestly to God for those who are in this state and who, with all their works, have become sheer darkness. For, just as all the streamlets that flow from a clear spring are as clear as the spring itself, so the works of a soul in grace are pleasing in the eyes both of God and of men, since they proceed from this spring of life, in which the soul is as a tree planted. It would give no shade and yield no fruit if it proceeded not thence, for the spring sustains it and prevents it from drying up and causes it to produce good fruit. When the soul, on the other hand, through its own fault, leaves this spring and becomes rooted in a pool of pitch-black, evil-smelling water, it produces nothing but misery and filth.
It should be noted here that it is not the spring, or the brilliant sun which is in the centre of the soul, that loses its splendour and beauty, for they are always within it and nothing can take away their beauty. If a thick black cloth be placed over a crystal in the sunshine, however, it is clear that, although the sun may be shining upon it, its brightness will have no effect upon the crystal.
O souls redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ! Learn to understand yourselves and take pity on yourselves! Surely, if you understand your own natures, it is impossible that you will not strive to remove the pitch which blackens the crystal? Remember, if your life were to end now, you would never enjoy this light again. O Jesus! How sad it is to see a soul deprived of it! What a state the poor rooms of the castle are in! How distracted are the senses which inhabit them! And the faculties, which are their governors and butlers and stewards — how blind they are and how ill-controlled! And yet, after all, what kind of fruit can one expect to be borne by a tree rooted in the devil?
I once heard a spiritual man say that he was not so much astonished at the things done by a soul in mortal sin as at the things not done by it. May God, in His mercy, deliver us from such great evil, for there is nothing in the whole of our lives that so thoroughly deserves to be called evil as this, since it brings endless and eternal evils in its train. It is of this, daughters, that we should walk in fear, and this from which in our prayers we must beg God to deliver us; for, if He keep not the city, we shall labour in vain, since we are vanity itself. That person to whom I referred just now said that the favour which God had granted her had taught her too things: first, she had learned to have the greatest fear of offending Him, for which reason she continually begged Him not to allow her to fall, when she saw what legible consequences a fall could bring; secondly, she had found it a mirror of humility, for it had made her realize that any good thing we do has its source, not in ourselves but rather in that spring where this tree, which is the soul, is planted, and in that sun which sheds its radiance on our works. She says that she saw this so clearly that, whenever she did any good thing, or saw such a thing done, she betook herself straightway to its Source, realizing that without His help we are powerless. She then went on at once to praise God; and, as a rule, when she did any good action, she never gave a thought to herself at all.
If we can remember these two things, sisters, the time you have spent in reading all this, and the time I have spent in writing it, will not have been lost. Wise and learned men know them quite well, but we women are slow and need instruction in everything. So perhaps it may be the Lord's will that these comparisons shall be brought to our notice. May He be pleased of His goodness to give us grace to understand them.
These interior matters are so obscure to the mind that anyone with as little learning as I will be sure to have to say many superfluous and even irrelevant things in order to say a single one that is to the point. The reader must have patience with me, as I have with myself when writing about things of which I know nothing; for really I sometimes take up my paper, like a perfect fool, with no idea of what to say or of how to begin. I fully realize how important it is for you that I should explain certain interior matters to the best of my ability; for we continually hear what a good thing prayer is, and our Constitutions oblige us to engage in it for so many hours daily, yet they tell us nothing beyond what we ourselves have to do and say very little about the work done by the Lord in the soul — I mean, supernatural work. As I describe the things He does, and give various explanations of them, it will be very helpful for us to think of this celestial building which is within us and is so little understood by mortals, although many of them frequent it. And although the Lord has thrown some light upon many matters of which I have written, I do not think I have understood some of them, especially the most difficult, as well as I do now. The trouble, as I have said, is that, before I can get to them, I shall have to explain many things that are well known — it is bound to be so when a person is as stupid as I.
Let us now turn to our castle with its many mansions. You must not imagine these mansions as arranged in a row, one behind another, but fix your attention on the centre, the room or palace occupied by the King. Think of a palmito, which has many outer rinds surrounding the savoury part within, all of which must be taken away before the centre can be eaten. Just so around this central room are many more, as there also are above it. In speaking of the soul we must always think of it as spacious, ample and lofty; and this can be done without the least exaggeration, for the soul's capacity is much greater than we can realize, and this Sun, Which is in the palace, reaches every part of it. It is very important that no soul which practises prayer, whether little or much, should be subjected to undue constraint or limitation. Since God has given it such dignity, it must be allowed to roam through these mansions — through those above, those below and those on either side. It must not be compelled to remain for a long time in one single room — not, at least, unless it is in the room of self-knowledge. How necessary that is (and be sure you understand me here) even to those whom the Lord keeps in the same mansion in which He Himself is! However high a state the soul may have attained, self-knowledge is incumbent upon it, and this it will never be able to neglect even should it so desire. Humility must always be doing its work like a bee making its honey in the hive: without humility all will be lost. Still, we should remember that the bee is constantly flying about from flower to flower, and in the same way, believe me, the soul must sometimes emerge from self-knowledge and soar aloft in meditation upon the greatness and the majesty of its God. Doing this will help it to realize its own baseness better than thinking of its own nature, and it will be freer from the reptiles which enter the first rooms — that is, the rooms of self-knowledge. For although, as I say, it is through the abundant mercy of God that the soul studies to know itself, yet one can have too much of a good thing, as the saying goes, and believe me, we shall reach much greater heights of virtue by thinking upon the virtue of God than if we stay in our own little plot of ground and tie ourselves down to it completely.
I do not know if I have explained this clearly: self-knowledge is so important that, even if you were raised right up to the heavens, I should like you never to relax your cultivation of it; so long as we are on this earth,
nothing matters more to us than humility. And so I repeat that it is a very good thing — excellent, indeed — to begin by entering the room where humility is acquired rather than by flying off to the other rooms. For that is the way to make progress, and, if we have a safe, level road to walk along, why should we
desire wings to fly? Let us rather try to get the greatest possible profit out of walking. As I see it, we shall never succeed in knowing ourselves unless we seek to know God: let us think of His greatness and then come back to our own
baseness; by looking at His purity we shall see our foulness; by meditating upon His humility, we shall see how far we are from being humble.
There are two advantages in this. First, it is clear that anything white looks very much whiter against something black, just as the black looks blacker against the white. Secondly, if we turn from self towards God, our understanding and our will become nobler and readier to embrace all that is good: if we never rise above the slough of our own miseries we do ourselves a great disservice. We were saying just now how black and noisome are the streams that flow from souls in mortal sin. Similarly, although this is not the same thing — God forbid! It is only a comparison — so long as we are buried in the wretchedness of our earthly nature these streams of ours will never disengage themselves from the slough of cowardice, pusillanimity and fear. We shall always be glancing around and saying: "Are people looking at me or not?" "If I take a certain path shall I come to any harm?" "Dare I begin such and such a task?" "Is it pride that is impelling me to do so?" "Can anyone as wretched as I engage in so lofty an exercise as prayer?" "Will people think better of me if I refrain from following the crowd?" "For extremes are not good," they say, "even in virtue; and I am such a sinner that if I were to fail I should only have farther to fall; perhaps
I shall make no progress and in that case I shall only be doing good people
harm; anyway, a person like myself has no need to make herself singular."
Oh, God help my daughters, how many souls the devil must have ruined in this
way! They think that all these misgivings, and many more that I could describe,
arise from humility, whereas they really come from our lack of self-knowledge.
We get a distorted idea of our own nature, and, if we never stop thinking about
ourselves, I am not surprised if we experience these fears and others which are
still worse. It is for this reason, daughters, that I say we must set our eyes
upon Christ our Good, from Whom we shall learn true humility, and also upon His
saints. Our understanding, as I have said, will then be ennobled, and
self-knowledge will not make us timorous and
fearful; for, although this is only the first Mansion, it contains riches of
great price, and any who can elude the reptiles which are to be found in it will
not fail to go farther. Terrible are the crafts and wiles which the devil uses
to prevent souls from learning to know themselves and understanding his ways.
With regard to these first Mansions I can give some very useful information
out of my own experience. I must tell you, for example, to think of them as
comprising not just a few rooms, but a very large number. There
are many ways in which souls enter them, always with good intentions; but as the
devil's intentions are always very bad, he has many legions of evil spirits in
each room to prevent souls from passing from one to another, and as we, poor
souls, fail to realize this, we are tricked by all kinds of deceptions. The
devil is less successful with those who are nearer the King's dwelling-place;
but at this early stage, as the soul is still absorbed in worldly affairs,
engulfed in worldly pleasure and puffed up with worldly honours and ambitions,
its vassals, which are the senses and the faculties given to it by God as part
of its nature, have not the same power, and such a soul is easily vanquished,
although it may desire not to offend God and may perform good works. Those who
find themselves in this state need to take every opportunity of repairing to His
Majesty, and to make His blessed Mother their intercessor, and also His saints,
so that these may do battle for them, since their own servants have little
strength for defending themselves. In reality it is necessary in every state of
life for our help to come from God. May His Majesty grant us this through His
mercy. Amen.
How miserable is this life which we live! As I have said a great deal
elsewhere, daughters, about the harm which comes to us through our not properly
understanding this matter of humility and self-knowledge, I am not saying more
to you here, though it is a matter of the greatest importance to us. May the
Lord grant that something I have said will be of use to you.
You must note that the light which comes from the palace occupied by the King
hardly reaches these first Mansions at all; for, although they are not dark and
black, as when the soul is in a state of sin, they are to some extent darkened,
so that they cannot be seen (I mean by anyone who is in them); and this not
because of anything that is wrong with the room, but rather (I hardly know how
to explain myself) because there are so many bad things — snakes and vipers and
poisonous creatures — which have come in with the soul that they prevent it
from seeing the light. It is as if one were to enter a place flooded by sunlight
with his eyes so full of dust that he
could hardly open them. The room itself is light enough, but he cannot enjoy the
light because he is prevented from doing so by these wild beasts and animals,
which force him to close his eyes to everything but themselves. This seems to me
to be the condition of a soul which, though not in a bad state, is so completely
absorbed in things of the world and so deeply immersed, as I have said, in
possessions or honours or business, that, although as a matter of fact it would
like to gaze at the castle and enjoy its beauty, it is prevented from doing so,
and seems quite unable to free itself from all these impediments. Everyone,
however, who wishes to enter the second Mansions, will be well advised, as far
as his state of life permits, to try to put aside all unnecessary affairs and
business. For those who hope to reach the principal Mansion, this is so
important that unless they begin in this way I do not believe they will ever be
able to get there. Nor, indeed, even though it has entered the castle, is the
soul free from great peril in the Mansion which it actually inhabits; for, being
among such poisonous things, it cannot, at some time or another, escape being
bitten by them.
What would happen, then, daughters, if those who, like ourselves, are free
from these obstacles, and have already entered much farther into other secret
mansions of the castle, should, through their own fault, go out again into this
hurly-burly? Our sins must have led many people whom God has granted favours to
relapse through their faults into this wretched state. We here, so far as
outward things are concerned, are free; may it please the Lord to make us free
as regards inward things as well and to deliver us from evil. Beware, my
daughters, of cares which have nothing to do with you. Remember that in few of
the mansions of this castle are we free from struggles with devils. It is true
that in some of them, the wardens, who, as I think I said, are the faculties,
have strength for the fight; but it is most important that we should not cease
to be watchful against the devil's wiles, lest he deceive us in the guise of an
angel of light. For there are a multitude of ways in which he can deceive us,
and gradually make his way into the castle, and until he is actually there we do
not realize it.
As I told you before, he works like a noiseless file, and we must be on the
look-out for him from the beginning. In order to explain this better I want to
give you several illustrations. He inspires a sister with yearnings to do
penance, so that she seems to have no peace save when she is torturing herself.
This, in itself, is good; but, if the prioress has ordered that no penance is to
be done without leave, and yet the sister thinks that she can venture to persist
in so beneficial a practice, and secretly orders her life in such a way that in
the end she ruins her health and is unable to do what her Rule demands, you see
what this apparently good thing has led to. Another sister is inspired with zeal
for the greatest possible perfection. This, again, is a very good thing; but the
result of it might be that she would think any little fault on the part of the
sisters a serious failure, and would always be looking out for such things and
running to the prioress about them; sometimes she might even be so zealous about
religious observances as to be unable to see her own faults; and this the
others, observing only her zeal about their misdeeds and not understanding the
excellence of her intentions, might well take none too kindly.
The devil's aim here must not be made light of, for he is trying to bring
about a cooling of charity and love among the sisters, and if he could do this
he would be working a great deal of harm. Let us realize, my daughters, that
true perfection consists in the love of God and of our neighbour, and the more
nearly perfect is our observance of these two commandments, the nearer to
perfection we shall be. Our entire Rule and Constitutions are nothing but means
which enable us to do this the more perfectly. Let us refrain from indiscreet
zeal, which may do us great harm: let each one of you look to herself. As I have
said a great deal to you about this elsewhere I will
not enlarge on it further.
This mutual love is so important for us that I should like you never to
forget it; for if the soul goes about looking for trifling faults in others
(which sometimes may not be imperfections at all, though perhaps our ignorance
may lead us to make the worst of them) it may lose its own peace of mind and
perhaps disturb that of others. See, then, how dearly perfection can be bought.
The devil might also use this temptation in the case of a prioress, and then it
would be more dangerous still. Much discretion is necessary here; for, if it
were a question of her contravening the Rule and Constitutions, it would not
always do to take a lenient view of the matter — she would have to be spoken to
about it; and, if she did not then amend, the prelate would have to be told: to
do this would be a charity. This would also apply to the sisters, where the
fault was a grave one: to say nothing through fear that taking the matter up
would be yielding to temptation would itself be to yield to temptation. However,
to prevent deception by the devil, it should be strongly stressed that no sister
must discuss such things with any other, for from this practice the devil can
pluck great advantage and start habits of slander; these matters must be
discussed, as I have said, only with the person whose concern they are. Here,
glory be to God, we keep almost continuous silence, so that the opportunity does
not arise; none the less, it is well that we should be on our guard.
SECOND MANSIONS
In which there is One Chapter only.
Treats of the great importance of perseverance if we are to
reach the final Mansions and of the fierce war which the devil wages against
us. Tells how essential it is, if we are to attain our goal, not to miss our
way at the beginning. Gives a method which has proved very efficacious.
LET us now come to consider who the souls are that enter the
second Mansions and what they do there. I want to say very little to you about
this, because elsewhere I have written of it at length, and it
will be impossible for me to avoid repeating a great deal of this, because I
cannot remember anything of what I said. If it could be arranged in a
different form, I am quite sure you would not mind, as we are never tired of
books that treat of this, numerous though they are.
This chapter has to do with those who have already begun to practise prayer
and who realize the importance of not remaining in the first Mansions, but who
often are not yet resolute enough to leave those Mansions, and will not avoid
occasions of sin, which is a very perilous condition. But it is a very great
mercy that they should contrive to escape from the snakes and other poisonous
creatures, if only for short periods and should realize that it is good to flee
from them. In some ways, these souls have a much harder time than those in the
first Mansions; but they are in less peril, for they seem now to understand
their position and there is great hope that they will get farther into the
castle still. I say they have a harder time because the souls in the first
Mansions are, as it were, not only dumb, but can hear nothing, and so it is not
such a trial to them to be unable to speak; the others, who can hear and not
speak, would find the trial much harder to bear. But that is no reason for
envying those who do not hear, for after all it is a great thing to be able to
understand what is said to one.
These souls, then, can understand the Lord when He calls them; for, as they
gradually get nearer to the place where His Majesty dwells, He becomes a very
good Neighbour to them. And such are His mercy and goodness that, even when we
are engaged in our worldly pastimes and businesses and pleasures and hagglings,
when we are falling into sins and rising from them again (because these
creatures are at once so venomous and so active and it is so dangerous for us to
be among them that it will be a miracle if we escape stumbling over them and
falling) — in spite of all that, this Lord of ours is so anxious that we should
desire Him and strive after His companionship that He calls us ceaselessly, time
after time, to approach Him; and this voice of His is so sweet that the poor
soul is consumed with grief at being unable to do His bidding immediately, and
thus, as I say, it suffers more than if it could not hear Him.
I do not mean by this that He speaks to us and calls us in the precise way
which I shall describe later; His appeals come through the conversations of good
people, or from sermons, or through the reading of good books; and there are
many other ways, of which you have heard, in which God calls us. Or they come
through sicknesses and trials, or by means of truths which God teaches us at
times when we are engaged in prayer; however feeble such prayers may be God
values them highly. You must not despise this first favour, sisters, nor be
disconsolate, even though you have not responded immediately to the Lord's call;
for His Majesty is quite prepared to wait for many days, and even years,
especially when He sees we are persevering and have good desires. This is the
most necessary thing here; if we have this we cannot fail to gain greatly.
Nevertheless, the assault which the devils now make upon the soul, in all kinds
of ways, is terrible; and the soul suffers more than in the preceding Mansions;
for there it was deaf and dumb, or at least it could hear very little, and so it
offered less resistance, like one who to a great extent has lost hope of gaining
the victory. Here the understanding is keener and the faculties are more alert,
while the clash of arms and the noise of cannon are so loud that the soul cannot
help hearing them. For here the devils once more show the soul these vipers —
that is, the things of the world — and they pretend that earthly pleasures are
almost eternal: they remind the soul of the esteem in which it is held in the
world, of its friends and relatives, of the way in which its health will be
endangered by penances (which the soul always wants to do when it first enters
this Mansion) and of impediments of a thousand other kinds.
Oh, Jesus! What confusion the devils bring about in the poor soul, and how
distressed it is, not knowing if it ought to proceed farther or return to the
room where it was before! On the other hand, reason tells the soul how mistaken
it is in thinking that all these earthly things are of the slightest value by
comparison with what it is seeking, faith instructs it in what it must do to
find satisfaction; memory shows it how all these things come to an end, and
reminds it that those who have derived so much enjoyment from the things which
it has seen have died. Sometimes they have died suddenly and been quickly
forgotten by all: people whom we once knew to be very prosperous are now beneath
the ground, and we trample upon their graves, and often, as we pass them, we
reflect that their bodies are seething with worms — of these and many other
things the soul is reminded by memory. The will inclines to love One in Whom it
has seen so many acts and signs of love, some of which it would like to return.
In particular, the will shows the soul how this true Lover never leaves it, but
goes with it everywhere and gives it life and being. Then the understanding
comes forward and makes the soul realize that, for however many years it may
live, it can never hope to have a better friend, for the world is full of
falsehood and these pleasures which the devil pictures to it are accompanied by
trials and cares and annoyances; and tells it to be certain that outside this
castle it will find neither security nor peace: let it refrain from visiting one
house after another when its own house is full of good things, if it will only
enjoy them. How fortunate it is to be able to find all that it needs, as it
were, at home, especially when it has a Host Who will put all good things into
its possession, unless, like the Prodigal Son, it desires to go astray and eat
the food of the swine!
It is reflections of this kind which vanquish devils. But, oh, my God and
Lord, how everything is ruined by the vain habits we fall into and the way
everyone else follows them! So dead is our faith that we desire what we see more
than what faith tells us about — though what we actually see is that people who
pursue these visible things meet with nothing but ill fortune. All this is the
work of these poisonous creatures which we have been describing. For, if a man
is bitten by a viper, his whole body is poisoned and swells up; and so it is in
this case, and yet we take no care of ourselves. Obviously a great deal of
attention will be necessary if we are to be cured and only the great mercy of
God will preserve us from death. The soul will certainly suffer great trials at
this time, especially if the devil sees that its character and habits are such
that it is ready to make further progress: all the powers of hell will combine
to drive it back again.
Ah, my Lord! It is here that we have need of Thine aid, without which we can
do nothing. Of Thy mercy, allow not this soul to be deluded and led astray when
its journey is but begun. Give it light so that it may see how all its welfare
consists in this and may flee from evil companionship. It is a very great thing
for a person to associate with others who are walking in the right way: to mix,
not only with those whom he sees in the rooms where he himself is, but with
those whom he knows to have entered the rooms nearer the centre, for they will
be of great help to him and he can get into such close touch with them that they
will take him with them. Let him have a fixed determination not to allow himself
to be beaten, for, if the devil sees that he has firmly resolved to lose his
life and his peace and everything that he can offer him rather than to return to
the first room, he will very soon cease troubling him. Let him play the man and
not be like those who went down on their knees in order to drink when they went
to battle — I forget with whom — but
let him be resolute, for he is going forth to fight with all the devils and
there are no better weapons than the Cross.
There is one thing so important that, although I have said it on other
occasions, I will
repeat it once more here: it is that at the beginning one must not think of such
things as spiritual favours, for that is a very poor way of starting to build
such a large and beautiful edifice. If it is begun upon sand, it will all
collapse: souls
which build like that will never be free from annoyances and temptations. For it
is not in these Mansions, but in those which are farther on, that it rains
manna; once there, the soul has all that it desires, because it desires only
what is the will of God. It is a curious thing: here we are, meeting with
hindrances and suffering from imperfections by the thousand, with our virtues so
young that they have not yet learned how to walk — in fact, they have only just
been born: God grant that they have even been born at all! — and yet we are not
ashamed to be wanting consolations in prayer and to be complaining about periods
of aridity. This must not be true of you, sisters: embrace the Cross which your
Spouse bore upon His shoulders and realize that this Cross is yours to carry
too: let her who is capable of the greatest suffering suffer most for Him and
she will have the most perfect freedom. All other things are of quite secondary
importance: if the Lord should grant them to you, give Him heartfelt thanks.
You may think that you will be full of determination to resist outward trials
if God will only grant you inward favours. His Majesty knows best what is
suitable for us; it is not for us to advise Him what to give us, for He can
rightly reply that we know not what we ask. All that
the beginner in prayer has to do — and you must not forget this, for it is very
important — is to labour and be resolute and prepare himself with all possible
diligence to bring his will into conformity with the will of God. As I shall say
later, you may be quite sure that this comprises the very greatest perfection
which can be attained on the spiritual road. The more perfectly a person
practises it, the more he will receive of the Lord and the greater the progress
he will make on this road; do not think we have to use strange jargon or dabble
in things of which we have no knowledge or understanding, our entire welfare is
to be found in what I have described. If we go astray at the very beginning and
want the Lord to do our will and to lead us just as our fancy dictates, how can
this building possibly have a firm foundation? Let us see that we do as much as
in us lies and avoid these venomous reptiles, for often it is the Lord's will
that we should be persecuted and afflicted by evil thoughts, which we cannot
cast out, and also by aridities; and sometimes He even allows these reptiles to
bite us, so that we may learn better how to be on our guard in the future and
see if we are really grieved at having offended Him.
If, then, you sometimes fail, do not lose heart, or cease striving to make
progress, for even out of your fall God will bring good, just as a man selling
an antidote will drink poison before he takes it in order to prove its power. If
nothing else could show us what wretched creatures we are and what harm we do to
ourselves by dissipating our desires, this war which goes on within us would be
sufficient to do so and to lead us back to recollection. Can any evil be greater
than the evil which we find in our own house? What hope can we have of being
able to rest in other people's homes if we
cannot rest in our own? For none of our friends and relatives are as near to us
as our faculties, with which we have always to live, whether we like it or not,
and yet our faculties seem to be making war upon us, as if they were resentful
of the war made upon them by our vices. "Peace, peace," said the Lord, my
sisters, and many a time He spoke words of peace to His Apostles. Believe
me, unless we have peace, and strive for peace in our own home, we shall not
find it in the homes of others. Let this war now cease. By the blood which
Christ shed for us, I beg this of those who have not begun to enter within
themselves; and those who have begun to do so must not allow such warfare to
turn them back. They must realize that to fall a second time is worse than to
fall once. They can see that it will lead them to ruin: let them place their
trust, not in themselves, but in the mercy of God, and they will see how His
Majesty can lead them on from one group of Mansions to another and set them on
safe ground where these beasts cannot harass or hurt them, for He will place the
beasts in their power and laugh them to scorn; and then they themselves — even
in this life, I mean — will enjoy many more good things than they could ever
desire.
As I said first of all, I have already written to you about how you ought to
behave when you have to suffer these disturbances with which the devil torments
you; and about how recollection cannot be begun by making strenuous efforts, but must
come gently, after which you will be able to practise it for longer periods at a
time. So I will say no more about this now, except that it is very important for
you to consult people of experience; for otherwise you will imagine that you are
doing yourselves great harm by pursuing your necessary occupations. But,
provided we do not abandon our prayer, the Lord will turn everything we do to
our profit, even though we may find no one to teach us. There is no remedy for
this evil of which we have been speaking except to start again at the beginning;
otherwise the soul will keep on losing a little more every day — please God
that it may come to realize this.
Some of you might suppose that, if it is such a bad thing to turn back, it
would have been better never to have begun, but to have remained outside the
castle. I told you, however, at the outset, and the Lord Himself says this, that
he who goes into danger shall perish in it, and that
the door by which we can enter this castle is prayer. It is absurd to think that
we can enter Heaven without first entering our own souls — without getting to
know ourselves, and reflecting upon the wretchedness of our nature and what we
owe to God, and continually imploring His mercy. The Lord Himself says: "No one
will ascend to My Father, but by Me" (I am
not sure if those are the exact words, but I think they are) and "He
that sees Me sees My Father." Well, if
we never look at Him or think of what we owe Him, and of the death which He
suffered for our sakes, I do not see how we can get to know Him or do good works
in His service. For what can be the value of faith without works, or of works
which are not united with the merits of our Lord Jesus Christ? And what but such
thoughts can arouse us to love this Lord? May it please His Majesty to grant us
to understand how much we cost Him, that the servant is not greater than his
Lord, that we must needs work if we would enjoy His glory, and that for that reason we
must perforce pray, lest we enter continually into temptation.
THIRD MANSIONS
In which there are Two Chapters.
CHAPTER I
Treats of the insecurity from which we cannot escape in this
life of exile, however lofty a state we may reach, and of how good it is for
us to walk in fear. This chapter contains several good points.
TO those who by the mercy of God have overcome in these combats, and by dint
of perseverance have entered the third Mansions, what shall we say but "Blessed
is the man that feareth the Lord"? As I am
so stupid in these matters, it has been no small thing that His Majesty should
have enabled me to understand the meaning of this verse in the vernacular. We
shall certainly be right in calling such a man blessed, for, unless he turns
back, he is, so far as we can tell, on the straight road to salvation. Here,
sisters, you will see the importance of having overcome in your past battles;
for I am convinced that the Lord never fails to give a person who does this
security of conscience, which is no small blessing. I say "security", but that
is the wrong word, for there is no security in this life, so, whenever I use it,
you must understand the words "unless he strays from the path on which he has
set out".
It is really a perfect misery to be alive when we have always to be going
about like men with enemies at their gates, who cannot lay aside their arms even
when sleeping or eating, and are always afraid of being surprised by a breaching
of their fortress in some weak spot. Oh, my Lord and my God! How canst Thou wish
us to desire such a miserable life as that? It would be impossible to refrain
from wishing and begging Thee to take us from it, were it not for our hope that
we may lose it for Thy sake, or spend it wholly in Thy service — and, above
all, for the realization that it is Thy will for us. If that is indeed so, my
God, let us die with Thee, as Saint Thomas said, for life
without Thee is nothing but death many times over and constant dread at the
possibility of losing Thee for ever. So I think, daughters, that the happiness
we should pray for is to enjoy the complete security of the blessed; for what
pleasure can anyone have when beset by these fears if his only pleasure consists
in pleasing God? Remember that all this, and much more, could be said of some of
the saints, and yet they fell into
grave sins, and we cannot be certain that God will give us His hand and help us
to renounce them and do
penance for them. (This refers to particular help.)
Truly, my daughters, I am so fearful as I write this that, when it comes to
my mind, as is very often the case, I hardly know how to get the words down, or
how to go on living. Beseech His Majesty, my daughters, always to live within
me, for otherwise what security can there be in a life as misspent as mine? And
do not let it depress you to realize that I am like that — I have sometimes
seen you depressed when I have told you so. The reason it affects you in that
way is that you would like to think I had been very holy. That is quite right of
you: I should like to think so myself. But what can I do about it when I have
lost so much through my own fault? I shall not complain that God ceased giving
me all the help I needed if your wishes were to be fulfilled: I cannot say this
without tears and great confusion when I realize that I am writing for those who
are themselves capable of teaching me. Rigorous has been the task that obedience
has laid upon me! May it
please the Lord that, as it is being done for His sake, you may gain some profit
from it and may ask Him to pardon this wretched and foolhardy woman. But His
Majesty well knows that I can count only upon His Mercy, and, as I cannot help
having been what I have, there is nothing for me to do but approach God and
trust in the merits of His Son, and of the Virgin, His Mother, whose habit both
you and I unworthily wear. Praise Him, my daughters, for you are really the
daughters of Our Lady, and when you have as good a Mother as that there is no
reason for you to be scandalized at my unworthiness. Imitate Our Lady and
consider how great she must be and what a good thing it is that we have her for
our Patroness; even my sins and my being what I am have not been sufficient to
bring any kind of tarnish upon this sacred Order.
But of one thing I must warn you: although you are in this Order, and have
such a Mother, do not be too sure of yourselves; for David was a very holy man,
yet you know what Solomon became.
Nor must you set store by the fact that you are cloistered and lead lives of
penitence. Nor must you become confident because you are always talking about
God, continually engaging in prayer, withdrawing yourselves completely from the
things of this world and (to the best of your belief) abhorring them. All that
is good, but, as I have said, it is not enough to justify us in laying aside our
fears. So you must repeat this verse and often bear it in mind: Beatus vir,
qui timet Dominum.
And now I forget what I was saying — I have been indulging in a long
digression. Whenever I think of myself I feel like a bird with a broken wing and
I can say nothing of any value. So I will leave all this for now and return to
what I had begun to explain concerning the souls that have entered the third
Mansions. In enabling these souls to overcome their initial difficulties, the
Lord has granted them no small favour, but a very great one. I believe that,
through His goodness, there are many such souls in the world: they are most
desirous not to offend His Majesty; they avoid committing even venial sins; they
love doing penance, they spend hours in recollection; they use their time well;
they practise works of charity toward their neighbours; and they are very
careful in their speech and dress and in the government of their household if
they have one. This is certainly a desirable state and there seems no reason why
they should be denied entrance to the very last of the Mansions; nor will the
Lord deny them this if they desire it, for their disposition is such that He
will grant them any favour.
Oh, Jesus! How could anyone ever say that he has no desire for such a
wonderful thing, especially when he has got over the most troublesome stages
leading to it? Surely no one could do so. We all say we desire it; but if the
Lord is to take complete possession of the soul more than that is necessary.
Words are not enough, any more than they were for the young man when the Lord
told him what to do if he wished to be perfect. Ever
since I began to speak of these Mansions I have had that young man in mind, for
we are exactly like him; and this as a rule is the origin of our long periods of
aridity in prayer, although these have other sources as well. I am saying
nothing here of interior trials, which vex many good souls to an intolerable
degree, and through no fault of their own, but from which the Lord always
rescues them, to their great profit, as He does also those who suffer from
melancholy and other infirmities. In all things we must leave out of account the
judgments of God.
Personally, I think that what I have said is the most usual thing. These
souls know that nothing would induce them to commit a sin — many of them would
not intentionally commit even a venial sin — and they make good use of their
lives and their possessions. So they cannot be patient when the door is closed
to them and they are unable to enter the presence of the King, Whose vassals
they consider themselves, and in fact are. Yet even on earth a king may have
many vassals and they do not all get so far as to enter his chamber. Enter,
then, enter within yourselves, my daughters; and get right away from your own
trifling good works, for these you are bound, as Christians, to perform, and,
indeed, many more. It will be enough for you that you are vassals of God; do not
try to get so much that you achieve nothing. Look at the saints who have entered
the King's chamber and you will see the difference between them and ourselves.
Do not ask for what you have not deserved. For we have offended God, and,
however faithfully we serve Him, it should never enter our heads that we can
deserve anything.
Oh, humility, humility! I do not know why I have this temptation, but
whenever I hear people making so much of their times of aridity, I cannot help
thinking that they are somewhat lacking in it. I am not, of course, referring to
the great interior trials of which I have spoken, for they amount to much more
than a lack of devotion. Let us test ourselves, my sisters, or allow the Lord to
test us; for He knows well how to do it, although often we refuse to understand
Him. And now let us return to these carefully-ordered souls and consider what
they do for God, and we shall then see how wrong we are to complain of His
Majesty. For, if, when He tells us what we must do in order to be perfect, we
turn our backs upon Him and go away sorrowfully, like the young man in the
Gospel, what do
you expect His Majesty to do, for the reward which He is to give us must of
necessity be proportionate with the love which we bear Him? And this love,
daughters, must not be wrought in our imagination but must be proved by works.
Yet do not suppose God has any need of our works; what He needs is the
resoluteness of our will.
It may seem to us that we have done everything — we who wear the religious
habit, having taken it of our own will and left all the things of the world and
all that we had for His sake (for although, like Saint Peter, we may have left
only our nets, yet He esteems a person who gives all that he has as one who
gives in fullest measure). This is
a very good beginning; and, if we persevere in it, instead of going back, even
if only in desire, to consort with the reptiles in the first rooms, there is no
doubt that, by persevering in this detachment and abandonment of everything, we
shall attain our object. But it must be on this condition — and note that I am
warning you of this — that we consider ourselves unprofitable servants, as we
are told, either by Saint Paul or by Christ, and
realize that we have in no way obliged Our Lord to grant us such favours; but
rather that, the more we have received of Him, the more deeply do we remain in
His debt. What can we do for so generous a God, Who died for us and created us
and gives us being, without counting ourselves fortunate in being able to repay
Him something of what we owe Him for the way He has served us (I write
this word reluctantly, but it is the truth, for all
the time He lived in the world He did nothing but serve) without asking Him once
more for gifts and favours?
Consider carefully, daughters, these few things which have been set down
here, though they are in rather a jumbled state, for I cannot explain them
better; the Lord will make them clear to you, so that these periods of aridity
may teach you to be humble, and not make you restless, which is the aim of the
devil. Be sure that, where there is true humility, even if God never grants the
soul favours, He will give it peace and resignation to His will, with which it
may be more content than others are with favours. For often, as you have read,
it is to the weakest that His Divine Majesty gives favours, which I believe they
would not exchange for all the fortitude given to those who go forward in
aridity. We are fonder of spiritual sweetness than of crosses. Test us, O Lord,
Thou Who knowest all truth, that we may know ourselves.
CHAPTER II
Continues the same subject and treats of aridities in prayer
and of what the author thinks may result from them; and of how we must test
ourselves; and of how the Lord proves those who are in these
Mansions.
I HAVE known a few souls who have reached this state — I think I might even
say a great many — and who, as far as we can see, have for many years lived an
upright and carefully ordered life, both in soul and in body and then, after all
these years, when it has seemed as if they must have gained the mastery over the
world, or at least must be completely detached from it, His Majesty has sent
them tests which have been by no means exacting and they have become so restless
and depressed in spirit that they have exasperated me, and have
even made me thoroughly afraid for them. It is of no use offering them advice,
for they have been practising virtue for so long that they think they are
capable of teaching others and have ample justification for feeling as they do.
Well, I cannot find, and have never found, any way of comforting such people,
except to express great sorrow at their trouble, which, when I see them so
miserable, I really do feel. It is useless to argue with them, for they brood
over their woes and make up their minds that they are suffering for God's sake,
and thus never really understand that it is all due to their own imperfection.
And in persons who have made so much progress this is a further mistake; one
cannot be surprised if they suffer, though I think this kind of suffering ought
to pass quickly. For often it is God's will that His elect should be conscious
of their misery and so He withdraws His help from them a little — and no more
than that is needed to make us recognize our limitations very quickly. They then
realize that this is a way of testing them, for they gain a clear perception of
their shortcomings, and sometimes they derive more pain from finding that, in
spite of themselves, they are still grieving about earthly things, and not very
important things either, than from the matter which is troubling them. This, I
think, is a great mercy on the part of God, and even though they are at fault
they gain a great deal in humility.
With those other persons of whom I am speaking it is different: they consider
they have acted in a highly virtuous way, as I have said, and they wish others
to think so too. I will tell you about some of them so that we may learn to
understand and test ourselves before we are tested by the Lord — and it would
be a very great advantage if we were prepared and had learned to know ourselves
first.
A rich man, who is childless and has no one to leave his money to, loses part
of his wealth; but not so much that he has not enough for himself and his
household — he still has enough and to spare. If he begins to get restless and
worried, as though he had not a crust of bread left to eat, how can Our Lord ask
him to leave all for His sake? It may be, of course, that he is suffering
because he wants to give the money to the poor. But I think God would rather I
were resigned to what His Majesty does, and kept my tranquillity of soul, than
that I should do such acts of charity as these. If this man cannot resign
himself, because the Lord has not led him thus far, well and good; but he ought
to realize that he lacks this freedom of spirit and in that case he will pray
for it and prepare himself for the Lord to give it to him.
Another person, who has means enough to support himself, and indeed an excess
of means, sees an opportunity of acquiring more property. Let him take such an
opportunity, certainly, if it comes to him; but if he strives after it, and, on
obtaining it, strives after more and more, however good his intention may be
(and good it must be, because, as I have said, these are all virtuous people and
given to prayer), he need not be afraid that he will ever ascend to the
Mansions which are nearest the King.
It is much the same thing if such people are despised in any way or lose some
of their reputation. God often grants them grace to bear this well, for He loves
to help people to be virtuous in the presence of others, so that the virtue
itself which they possess may not be thought less of, or perhaps He will help
them because they have served Him, for this our God is good indeed. And yet they
become restless, for they cannot do as they would like to and control their
feelings all at once. Yet oh, dear me! Are not these the same persons who some
time ago were meditating upon how the Lord suffered, and upon what a good thing
it is to suffer, and who were even desiring to suffer? They would like every one
else to live as well-ordered a life as they do themselves; all we can hope is
that they will not begin to imagine that the trouble they have is somebody
else's fault and represent it to themselves as meritorious.
You will think, sisters, that I am wandering from the point, and am no longer
addressing myself to you, and that these things have nothing to do with us, as
we own no property and neither desire it nor strive after it and nobody ever
slights us. It is true that these examples are not exactly applicable to us, but
many others which are can be deduced from them, though it is unnecessary, and
would be unseemly, for me to detail them. From these you will find out if you
are really detached from the things you have abandoned, for trifling incidents
arise, though not precisely of this kind, which give you the opportunity to test
yourselves and discover if you have obtained the mastery over your passions. And
believe me, what matters is not whether or no we wear a religious habit; it is
whether we try to practise the virtues, and make a complete surrender of our
wills to God and order our lives as His Majesty ordains: let us desire that not
our wills, but His will, be done. If we
have not progressed as far as this, then, as I have said, let us practise
humility, which is the ointment for our wounds; if we are truly humble, God, the
Physician, will
come in due course, even though He tarry, to heal us.
The penances done by these persons are as carefully ordered as their lives.
They have a great desire for penance, so that by means of it they may serve Our
Lord — and there is nothing wrong in that — and for this reason they observe
great discretion in their penances, lest they should injure their health. You
need never fear that they will kill themselves: they are eminently reasonable
folk! Their love is not yet ardent enough to overwhelm their reason. How I wish
ours would make us dissatisfied with this habit of always serving God at a
snail's pace! As long as we do that we shall never get to the end of the road.
And as we seem to be walking along and getting fatigued all the time — for,
believe me, it is an exhausting road — we shall be very lucky if we escape
getting lost. Do you think, daughters, if we could get from one country to
another in a week, it would be advisable, with all the winds and snow and floods
and bad roads, to take a year over it? Would it not be better to get the journey
over and done with? For there are all these obstacles for us to meet and there
is also the danger of serpents. Oh, what a lot I could tell you about that!
Please God I have got farther than this myself — though I often fear I have
not!
When we proceed with all this caution, we find stumbling-blocks everywhere;
for we are afraid of everything, and so dare not go farther, as if we could
arrive at these Mansions by letting others make the journey for us! That is not
possible, my sisters; so, for the love of the Lord, let us make a real effort:
let us leave our reason and our fears in His hands and let us forget the
weakness of our nature which is apt to cause us so much worry. Let our superiors
see to the care of our bodies; that must be their concern: our own task is only
to journey with good speed so that we may see the Lord. Although we get few or
no comforts here, we shall be making a great mistake if we worry over our
health, especially as it will not be improved by our anxiety about it — that I
well know. I know, too, that our progress has nothing to do with the body, which
is the thing that matters least. What the journey which I am referring to
demands is great humility, and it is the lack of this, I think, if you see what
I mean, which prevents us from making progress. We may think we have advanced
only a few steps, and we should believe that this is so and that our sisters'
progress is much more rapid; and further we should not only want them to
consider us worse than anyone else, but we should contrive to make them do so.
If we act thus, this state is a most excellent one, but otherwise we shall
spend our whole lives in it and suffer a thousand troubles and miseries. Without
complete self-renunciation, the state is very arduous and oppressive, because,
as we go along, we are labouring under the burden of our miserable nature, which
is like a great load of earth and has not to be borne by those who reach the
later Mansions. In these present Mansions the Lord does not fail to recompense
us with just measure, and even generously, for He always gives us much more than
we deserve by granting us a spiritual sweetness much greater than we can obtain
from the pleasures and distractions of this life. But I do not think that He
gives many consolations, except when He occasionally invites us to see what is
happening in the remaining Mansions, so that we may prepare to enter them.
You will think that spiritual sweetness and consolations are one and the same
thing: why, then, this difference of name? To me it seems that they differ a
very great deal, though I may be wrong. I will tell you what I think about this
when I write about the fourth Mansions, which will follow these, because, as I
shall then have to say something about the consolations which the Lord gives in
those Mansions, it will come more appropriately. The subject will seem an
unprofitable one, yet none the less it may be of some use, for, once you
understand the nature of each, you can strive to pursue the one which is better.
This latter is a great solace to souls whom God has brought so far, while it
will make those who think they have everything feel ashamed; and if they are
humble they will be moved to give thanks. Should they fail to experience it,
they will feel an inward discouragement — quite unnecessarily, however, for
perfection consists not in consolations, but in the increase of love; on this,
too, will depend our reward, as well as on the righteousness and truth which are
in our actions.
If this is true — and it is — you will wonder what is the use of my
discussing these interior favours, and explaining what they are. I do not know:
you must ask the person who commanded me to write, for I am under an obligation
not to dispute with my superiors, but to obey them, and it would not be right
for me to dispute with them. What I can tell you truly is that, when I had had
none of these favours, and knew nothing of them by experience, and indeed never
expected to know about them all my life long (and rightly so, though it would
have been the greatest joy for me to know, or even to conjecture, that I was in
any way pleasing to God), none the less, when I read in books of these favours
and consolations which the Lord grants to souls that serve Him, it would give me
the greatest pleasure and lead my soul to offer fervent praises to God. Now if
I, who am so worthless a person, did that, surely those who are good and humble
will praise Him much more. If it only enables a single person to praise Him
once, I think it is a good thing that all this should be said, and that we
should realize what pleasure and what delights we lose through our own fault.
All the more so because, if they come from God, they come laden with love and
fortitude, by the help of which a soul can progress with less labour and grow
continually in good works and virtues. Do not suppose that it matters little
whether or no we do what we can to obtain them. But if the fault is not yours,
the Lord is just, and what His Majesty denies you in this way He will give you
in other ways — His Majesty knows how. His secrets are hidden deep; but all
that He does will be best for us, without the slightest doubt.
What I think would be of the greatest profit to those of us who, by the
goodness of the Lord, are in this state — and, as I have said, He shows them no
little mercy in bringing them to it, for, when here, they are on the point of
rising still higher — is that they should be most studious to render ready
obedience. Even though they be not in a religious Order, it would be a great
thing for them to have someone to whom they could go, as many people do, so that
they might not be following their own will in anything, for it is in this way
that we usually do ourselves harm. They should not look for anyone (as the
saying has it) cast in the same mould as themselves who
always proceeds with great circumspection; they should select a man who is
completely disillusioned with the things of the world. It is a great advantage
for us to be able to consult someone who knows us, so that we may learn to know
ourselves. And it is a great encouragement to see that things which we thought
impossible are possible to others, and how easily these others do them. It makes
us feel that we may emulate their flights and venture to fly ourselves, as the
young birds do when their parents teach them; they are not yet ready for great
flights but they gradually learn to imitate their parents. This is a great
advantage, as I know. However determined such persons may be not to offend the
Lord, they will do well not to run any risk of offending Him; for they are so
near the first Mansions that they might easily return to them, since their
fortitude is not built upon solid ground like that of souls who are already
practised in suffering. These last are familiar with the storms of the world,
and realize how little need there is to fear them or to desire worldly
pleasures. If those of whom I am speaking, however, had to suffer great
persecutions, they might well return to such pleasures and the devil well knows
how to contrive such persecutions in order to do us harm; they might be pressing
onward with great zeal, and trying to preserve others from sin, and yet be
unable to resist any temptations which came to them.
Let us look at our own shortcomings and leave other people's alone; for those
who live carefully ordered lives are apt to be shocked at everything and we
might well learn very important lessons from the persons who shock us. Our
outward comportment and behaviour may be better than theirs, but this, though
good, is not the most important thing: there is no reason why we should expect
everyone else to travel by our own road, and we should not attempt to point them
to the spiritual path when perhaps we do not know what it is. Even with these
desires that God gives us to help others, sisters, we may make many mistakes,
and thus it is better to attempt to do what our Rule tells us — to try to live
ever in silence and in hope, and the Lord will take care of His own. If, when we
beseech this of His Majesty, we do not become negligent ourselves, we shall be
able, with His help, to be of great profit to them. May He be for ever blessed.
FOURTH MANSIONS
In which there are Three Chapters
CHAPTER I
Treats of the difference between sweetness or tenderness in
prayer and consolations, and tells of the happiness which the author gained
from learning how different thought is from understanding. This chapter is
very profitable for those who suffer greatly from distractions during
prayer.
BEFORE I begin to speak of the fourth Mansions, it is most necessary that I
should do what I have already done — namely, commend myself to the Holy Spirit,
and beg Him from this point onward to speak for me, so that you may understand
what I shall say about the Mansions still to be treated. For we now begin to
touch the supernatural and this
is most difficult to explain unless His Majesty takes it in hand, as He did when
I described as much as I understood of the subject, about fourteen years ago. Although
I think I have now a little more light upon these favours which the Lord grants
to some souls, it is a different thing to know how to explain them. May His
Majesty undertake this if there is any advantage to be gained from its being
done, but not otherwise.
As these Mansions are now getting near to the place where the King dwells,
they are of great beauty and there are such exquisite things to be seen and
appreciated in them that the understanding is incapable of describing them in
any way accurately without being completely obscure to those devoid of
experience. But any experienced person will understand quite well, especially if
his experience has been considerable. It seems that, in order to reach these
Mansions, one must have lived for a long time in the others; as a rule one must
have been in those which we have just described, but there is no infallible rule
about it, as you must often have heard, for the Lord gives when He wills and as
He wills and to whom He wills, and, as the gifts are His own, this is doing no
injustice to anyone.
Into these Mansions poisonous creatures seldom enter, and, if they do, they
prove quite harmless — in fact they do the soul good. I think in this state of
prayer it is much better for them to enter and make war upon the soul, for, if
it had no temptations, the devil might mislead it with regard to the
consolations which God gives, and do much more harm than he can when it is being
tempted. The soul, too, would not gain so much, for it would be deprived of all
occasions of merit and be living in a state of permanent absorption. When a soul
is continuously in a condition of this kind I do not consider it at all safe,
nor do I think it possible for the Spirit of the Lord to remain in a soul
continuously in this way during our life of exile.
Returning to what I was saying I would describe here — namely, the
difference between sweetness in prayer and spiritual consolations — it seems to
me that we may describe as sweetness what we get from our meditations and from
petitions made to Our Lord. This proceeds from our own nature, though, of
course, God plays a part in the process (and in everything I say you must
understand this, for we can do nothing without Him). This spiritual sweetness
arises from the actual virtuous work which we perform, and we think we have
acquired it by our labours. We are quite right to feel satisfaction at
having worked in such a way. But, when we come to think of it, the same
satisfaction can be
derived from numerous things that may happen to us here on earth. When, for
example, a person suddenly acquires some valuable property; or equally suddenly
meets a person whom he dearly loves; or brings some important piece of business
or some other weighty matter to a successful conclusion, so that everyone speaks
well of him; or when a woman has been told that her husband or brother or son is
dead and he comes back to her alive. I have seen people shed tears over some
great joy;
sometimes, in fact, I have done so myself.
It seems to me that the feelings which
come to us from Divine things are as purely natural as these, except that their
source is nobler, although these worldly joys are in no way bad. To put it
briefly, worldly joys have their source in our own nature and end in God,
whereas spiritual consolations have their source in God, but we experience them
in a natural way and enjoy them as much as we enjoy those I have already
mentioned, and indeed much more. Oh, Jesus! How I wish I could make myself clear
about this! For I think I can see a very marked difference between these two
things and yet I am not clever enough to make my meaning plain: may the Lord
explain it for me!
I have just remembered a verse which we say at the end of the last psalm at
Prime. The last words of the verse are Cum dilatasti cor
meum. To anyone who has much experience, this will suffice to
explain the difference between the two; though, to anyone who has not, further
explanation is necessary. The spiritual sweetness which has been described does
not enlarge the heart; as a rule, it seems to oppress it somewhat. The soul
experiences a great happiness when it
realizes what it is doing for God's sake; but it sheds a few bitter tears which
seem in some way to be the result of passion. I know
little about these passions of the soul; if I knew more, perhaps I could make
the thing clear, and explain what proceeds from sensuality and what from our own
nature. But I am very stupid; I could explain this state if only I could
understand my own experience of it. Knowledge and learning are a great help in
everything.
My own experience of this state — I mean of these favours and this sweetness
in meditation — was that, if I began to weep over the Passion, I could not stop
until I had a splitting headache; and the same thing happened when I wept for my
sins. This was a great grace granted me by Our Lord, and I will not for the
moment examine each of these favours and decide which is the better of the two;
I wish, however, that I could explain the difference between them. In the state
I am now describing, the tears and longings sometimes arise partly from our
nature and from the state of preparedness we are in; but
nevertheless, as I have said, they eventually lead one to God. And this is an
experience to be greatly prized, provided the soul be humble, and can understand
that it does not make it any the more virtuous; for it is impossible to be sure
that these feelings are effects of love, and, even so, they are a gift of God.
Most of the souls which dwell in the Mansions already described are familiar
with these feelings of devotion, for they labour with the understanding almost
continuously, and make use of it in their meditations. They are right to do
this, because nothing more has been given them; they would do well, however, to
spend short periods in making various acts, and in praising God and rejoicing in
His goodness and in His being Who He is, and in desiring His honour and glory.
They should do this as well as they can, for it goes a long way towards
awakening the will. But, when the Lord gives them this other grace, let them be
very careful not to reject it for the sake of finishing their customary
meditation.
As I have written about this at great length elsewhere, I will
not repeat it here. I only want you to be warned that, if you would progress a
long way on this road and ascend to the Mansions of your desire, the important
thing is not to think much, but to love much; do, then, whatever most arouses
you to love. Perhaps we do not know what love is: it would not surprise me a
great deal to learn this, for love consists, not in the extent of our happiness,
but in the firmness of our determination to try to please God in everything, and
to endeavour, in all possible ways, not to offend Him, and to pray Him ever to
advance the honour and glory of His Son and the growth of the Catholic Church.
Those are the signs of love; do not imagine that the important thing is never to
be thinking of anything else and that if your mind becomes slightly distracted
all is lost.
I have sometimes been terribly oppressed by this turmoil of thoughts and it
is only just over four years ago that I came to understand by experience that
thought (or, to put it more clearly, imagination) is not
the same thing as understanding. I asked a learned man about this and he said I
was right, which gave me no small satisfaction. For, as the understanding is one
of the faculties of the soul, I found it very hard to see why it was sometimes
so timid; whereas
thoughts, as a rule, fly so fast that only God can restrain them; which He does
by uniting us in such a way that we seem in some sense to be loosed from this
body. It exasperated me to see
the faculties of the soul, as I thought, occupied with God and recollected in
Him, and the thought, on the other hand, confused and excited.
O Lord, do Thou remember how much we have to suffer on this road through lack
of knowledge! The worst of it is that, as we do not realize we need to know more
when we think about Thee, we cannot ask those who know; indeed we have not even
any idea what there is for us to ask them. So we suffer terrible trials because
we do not understand ourselves; and we worry over what is not bad at all, but
good, and think it very wrong. Hence proceed the afflictions of many people who
practise prayer, and their complaints of interior trials — especially if they
are unlearned people — so that they become melancholy, and their health
declines, and they even abandon prayer altogether, because they fail to realize
that there is an interior world close at hand. Just as we cannot stop the
movement of the heavens, revolving as they do with such speed, so we cannot
restrain our thought. And then we send all the faculties of the soul after it,
thinking we are lost, and have misused the time that we are spending in the
presence of God. Yet the soul may perhaps be wholly united with Him in the
Mansions very near His presence, while thought remains in the outskirts of the
castle, suffering the assaults of a thousand wild and venomous creatures and
from this suffering winning merit. So this must not upset us, and we must not
abandon the struggle, as the devil tries to make us do. Most of these trials and
times of unrest come from the fact that we do not understand ourselves.
As I write this, the noises in my head are so loud that I am beginning to
wonder what is going on in it. As I
said at the outset, they have been making it almost impossible for me to obey
those who commanded me to write. My head sounds just as if it were full of
brimming rivers, and then as if all the water in those rivers came suddenly
rushing downward; and a host of little birds seem to be whistling, not in the
ears, but in the upper part of the head, where the higher part of the soul is
said to be; I have held this view for a long time, for the spirit seems to move
upward with great velocity. Please God I may remember to explain the cause of
this when I am writing of the later Mansions: here it does not fit in well. I
should not be surprised to know that the Lord has been pleased to send me this
trouble in my head so that I may understand it better, for all this physical
turmoil is no hindrance either to my prayer or to what I am saying now, but the
tranquillity and love in my soul are quite unaffected, and so are its desires
and clearness of mind.
But if the higher part of the soul is in the upper part of the head, how is
it that it experiences no disturbance? That I do not know, but I do know that
what I say is true. I suffer when my prayer is not accompanied by suspension of
the faculties, but, when the faculties are suspended, I feel no pain until the
suspension is over; it would be a terrible thing if this obstacle forced me to
give up praying altogether. It is not good for us to be disturbed by our
thoughts or to worry about them in the slightest; for if we do not worry and if
the devil is responsible for them they will cease, and if they proceed, as they
do, from the weakness which we inherit from the sin of Adam, and from many other
weaknesses, let us have patience and bear everything for the love of God.
Similarly we are obliged to eat and sleep, and we cannot escape from these
obligations, though they are a great burden to us.
Let us recognize our weakness in these respects and desire to go where nobody
will despise us. I sometimes recall words I have heard, spoken by the Bride in
the Canticles, and
really I believe there is no point in our lives at which they can more properly
be used, for I do not think that all the scorn and all the trials which we may
have to suffer in this life can equal these interior battles. Any unrest and any
strife can be borne, as I have already said, if we find peace where we live; but
if we would have rest from the thousand trials which afflict us in the world and
the Lord is pleased to prepare such rest for us, and yet the cause of the
trouble is in ourselves, the result cannot but be very painful, indeed almost
unbearable. For this causes Lord, do Thou take us to a place where these
weaknesses, which sometimes seem to be making sport of the soul, do not cause us
to be despised. Even in this life the Lord will free the soul from this, when it
has reached the last Mansion, as, if it please God, we shall explain.
These weaknesses will not give everyone so much trouble, or assail everyone
as violently, as for many years they troubled and assailed me. For I was a
wicked person and it seemed as though I were trying to take vengeance on myself.
As it has been such a troublesome thing for me, it may perhaps be so for you as
well, so I am just going to describe it, first in one way and then in another,
hoping that I may succeed in making you realize how necessary it is, so that you
may not grow restless and distressed. The clacking old mill must keep on going
round and we must grind our own flour: neither the will nor the understanding
must cease working.
This trouble will sometimes be worse, and sometimes better, according to our
health and according to the times and seasons. The poor soul may not be to blame
for this, but it must suffer none the less, for, as we shall commit other
faults, it is only right that we should have patience. And as we are so ignorant
that what we read and are advised — namely, that we should take no account of
these thoughts — is not sufficient to teach us, it does not seem to me a waste
of time if I go into it farther and offer you some consolation about it; though
this will be of little help to you until the Lord is pleased to give us light.
But it is necessary (and His Majesty's will) that we should take proper measures
and learn to understand ourselves, and not blame our souls for what is the work
of our weak imagination and our nature and the devil.
CHAPTER II
Continues the same subject and explains by a comparison what is
meant by consolations and how we must obtain them without striving to do
so.
GOD help me in this task which I have embarked upon. I had
quite forgotten what I was writing about, for business matters and ill-health
forced me to postpone continuing it until a more suitable time, and, as I have a
poor memory, it will all be very much confused, for I cannot read it through
again. It may even be that everything I say is confused; that, at least, is what
I am afraid of. I think I was talking about spiritual consolations and
explaining how they are sometimes bound up with our passions. They often cause
fits of sobbing; I have heard, indeed, that some persons find they produce
constrictions of the chest and even exterior movements, which cannot be
controlled, and which are violent enough to make blood gush from the nose and
produce similar disconcerting symptoms. About this I can say nothing, for I have
not experienced it, but there must be some cause for comfort in it, for, as I
say, it all leads to a desire to please God and to have fruition of His Majesty.
What I call consolations from God, and elsewhere have termed the Prayer of
Quiet, is something of a very different kind, as those of you will know who by
the mercy of God have experienced it. To understand it better, let us suppose
that we are looking at two fountains, the basins of which can be filled with
water. There are certain spiritual things which I can find no way of explaining
more aptly than by this element of water; for, as I am very ignorant, and my
wits give me no help, and I am so fond of this element, I have observed it more
attentively than anything else. In all the things that have been created by so
great and wise a God there must be many secrets by which we can profit, and
those who understand them do profit by them, although I believe that in every
little thing created by God there is more than we realize, even in so small a
thing as a tiny ant.
These two large basins can be filled with water in different ways: the water
in the one comes from a long distance, by means of numerous conduits and through
human skill; but the other has been constructed at the very source of the water
and fills without making any noise. If the flow of water is abundant, as in the
case we are speaking of, a great stream still runs from it after it has been
filled; no skill is necessary here, and no conduits have to be made, for the
water is flowing all the time. The difference between this and the carrying of
the water by means of conduits is, I think, as follows. The latter corresponds
to the spiritual sweetness which, as I say, is produced by meditation. It
reaches us by way of the thoughts; we meditate upon created things and fatigue
the understanding; and when at last, by means of our own efforts, it comes, the
satisfaction which it brings to the soul fills the basin, but in doing so makes
a noise, as I have said.
To the other fountain the water comes direct from its source, which is God,
and, when it is His Majesty's will and He is pleased to grant us some
supernatural favour, its coming is accompanied by the greatest peace and
quietness and sweetness within ourselves — I cannot say where it arises or how.
And that content and delight are not felt, as earthly delights are felt, in the
heart — I mean not at the outset, for later the basin becomes completely
filled, and then this water begins to overflow all the Mansions and faculties,
until it reaches the body. It is for that reason that I said it has its source
in God and ends in ourselves — for it is certain, and anyone will know this who
has experienced it, that the whole of the outer man enjoys this consolation and
sweetness.
I was thinking just now, as I wrote this, that a verse which I have already
quoted, Dilatasti cor meum, speaks of the heart's being
enlarged. I do not think that this happiness has its source in the heart at all.
It arises in a much more interior part, like something of which the springs are
very deep; I think this must be the centre of the soul, as I have since realized
and as I will explain hereafter. I certainly find secret things in ourselves
which often amaze me — and how many more there must be! O my Lord and my God!
How wondrous is Thy greatness! And we creatures go about like silly little
shepherd-boys, thinking we are learning to know something of Thee when the very
most we can know amounts to nothing at all, for even in ourselves there are deep
secrets which we cannot fathom. When I say "amounts to nothing at all" I mean
because Thou art so surpassingly great, not because the signs of greatness that
we see in Thy works are not very wonderful, even considering how very little we
can learn to know of them.
Returning to this verse, what it says about the enlargement of the heart may,
I think, be of some help to us. For apparently, as this heavenly water begins to
flow from this source of which I am speaking — that is, from our very depths —
it proceeds to spread within us and cause an interior dilation and produce
ineffable blessings, so that the soul itself cannot understand all that it
receives there. The fragrance it experiences, we might say, is as if in those
interior depths there were a brazier on which were cast sweet perfumes; the
light cannot be seen, nor the place where it dwells, but the fragrant smoke and
the heat penetrate the entire soul, and very often, as I have said, the effects
extend even to the body. Observe — and understand me here — that no heat is
felt, nor is any fragrance perceived: it is a more delicate thing than that; I
only put it in that way so that you may understand it. People who have not
experienced it must realize that it does in very truth happen; its occurrence is
capable of being perceived, and the soul becomes aware of it more clearly than
these words of mine can express it. For it is not a thing that we can fancy,
nor, however hard we strive, can we acquire it, and from that very fact it is
clear that it is a thing made, not of human metal, but of the purest gold of
Divine wisdom. In this state the faculties are not, I think, in union, but they
become absorbed and are amazed as they consider what is happening to them.
It may be that in writing of these interior things I am contradicting what I
have myself said elsewhere. This is not surprising, for almost fifteen years
have passed since then, and
perhaps the Lord has now given me a clearer realization of these matters than I
had at first. Both then and now, of course, I may be mistaken in all this, but I
cannot lie about it: by the mercy of God I would rather die a thousand deaths: I
am speaking of it just as I understand it.
The will certainly seems to me to be united in some way with the will of God;
but it is by the effects of this prayer and the actions which follow it that the
genuineness of the experience must be tested and there is no better crucible for
doing so than this. If the person who receives such a grace recognizes it for
what it is, Our Lord is granting him a surpassingly great favour, and another
very great one if he does not turn back. You will desire, then, my daughters, to
strive to attain this way of prayer, and you will be right to do so, for, is I
have said, the soul cannot fully understand the favours which the Lord grants it
there or the love which draws it ever nearer to Himself, it is certainly
desirable that we should know how to obtain this favour. I will tell you what I
have found out about it.
We may leave out of account occasions when the Lord is pleased to grant these
favours for no other reason than because His Majesty so wills. He knows why He
does it and it is not for us to interfere. As well as acting, then, as do those
who have dwelt in the Mansions already described, have humility and again
humility! It is by humility that the Lord allows Himself to be conquered so that
He will do all we ask of Him, and the first way in which you will see if you
have humility is that if you have it you will not think you merit these favours
and consolations of the Lord or are likely to get them for as long as you live.
"But how," you will ask, "are we to gain them if we do not strive after them?" I
reply that there is no better way than this one which I have described. There
are several reasons why they should not be striven for. The first is because the
most essential thing is that we should love God without any motive of
self-interest. The second is because there is some lack of humility in our
thinking that in return for our miserable services we can obtain anything so
great. The third is because the true preparation for receiving these gifts is a
desire to suffer and to imitate the Lord, not to receive consolations; for,
after all, we have often offended Him. The fourth reason is because His Majesty
is not obliged to grant them to us, as He is obliged to grant us glory if we
keep His commandments, without doing which we could not be saved, and He knows
better than we what is good for us and which of us truly love Him. That is
certain truth, as I know; and I also know people who walk along the road of
love, solely, as they should, in order to serve Christ crucified, and not only
do they neither ask for consolations nor desire them, but they beg Him not to
give them to them in this life. The fifth reason is that we should be labouring
in vain; for this water does not flow through conduits, as the other does, and
so we gain nothing by fatiguing ourselves if it cannot be had at the source. I
mean that, however much we may practise meditation, however much we do violence
to ourselves, and
however many tears we shed, we cannot produce this water in those ways; it is
given only to whom God wills to give it and often when the soul is not thinking
of it at all.
We are His, sisters; may He do with us as He will and lead us along whatever
way He pleases. I am sure that if any of us achieve true humility and detachment
(I say "true" because it must not be in thought alone, for thoughts often
deceive us; it must be total detachment) the Lord will not fail to grant us this
favour, and many others which we shall not even know how to desire. May He be
for ever praised and blessed. Amen.
CHAPTER III
Describes what is meant by the Prayer of Recollection, which
the Lord generally grants before that already mentioned. Speaks of its effects
and of the remaining effects of the former kind of prayer, which had to do
with the consolations given by the Lord.
THE effects of
this kind of prayer are numerous; some of them I shall explain. First of all, I
will say something (though not much, as I have dealt with it elsewhere) about
another kind of prayer, which almost invariably begins before this one. It is a
form of recollection which also seems to me supernatural for it does not involve
remaining in the dark, or closing the eyes, nor is it dependent upon anything
exterior. A person involuntarily closes his eyes and desires solitude; and,
without the display of any human skill there seems gradually to be built for him
a temple in which he can make the prayer already described; the senses and all
external things seem gradually to lose their hold on him, while the soul, on the
other hand, regains its lost control.
It is sometimes said that the soul enters within itself and sometimes that it
rises above itself; but I
cannot explain things in that kind of language, for I have no skill in it.
However, I believe you will understand what I am able to tell you, though I may
perhaps be intelligible only to myself. Let us suppose that these senses and
faculties (the inhabitants, as I have said, of this castle, which is the figure
that I have taken to explain my meaning) have gone out of the castle, and, for
days and years, have been consorting with strangers, to whom all the good things
in the castle are abhorrent. Then, realizing how much they have lost, they come
back to it, though they do not actually re-enter it, because the habits they
have formed are hard to conquer. But they are no longer traitors and they now
walk about in the vicinity of the castle. The great King, Who dwells in the
Mansion within this castle, perceives their good will, and in His great mercy
desires to bring them back to Him. So, like a good Shepherd, with a call so
gentle that even they can hardly recognize it, He teaches them to know His voice
and not to go away and get lost but to return to their Mansion; and so powerful
is this Shepherd's call that they give up the things outside the castle which
had led them astray, and once again enter it.
I do not think I have ever explained this before as clearly as here. When we
are seeking God within ourselves (where He is found more effectively and more
profitably than in the creatures, to quote Saint Augustine, who, after having
sought Him in many places, found Him within) it is a
great help if God grants us this favour. Do not suppose that the understanding
can attain to Him, merely by trying to think of Him as within the soul, or the
imagination, by picturing Him as there. This is a good habit and an excellent
kind of meditation, for it is founded upon a truth — namely, that God is within
us. But it is not the kind of prayer that I have in mind, for anyone (with the
help of the Lord, you understand) can practise it for himself. What I am
describing is quite different. These people are sometimes in the castle before
they have begun to think about God at all. I cannot say where they entered it or
how they heard their Shepherd's call: it was certainly not with their ears, for
outwardly such a call is not audible. They become markedly conscious that they
are gradually retiring within
themselves; anyone who experiences this will discover what I mean: I cannot
explain it better. I think I have read that they are like a hedgehog or a
tortoise withdrawing into itself; and
whoever wrote that must have understood it well. These creatures, however, enter
within themselves whenever they like; whereas with us it is not a question of
our will — it happens only when God is pleased to grant us this favour. For my
own part, I believe that, when His Majesty grants it, He does so to people who
are already leaving the things of the world. I do not mean that people who are
married must actually leave the world — they can do so only in desire: His call
to them is a special one and aims at making them intent upon interior things. I
believe, however, that if we wish to give His Majesty free course, He will grant
more than this to those whom He is beginning to call still higher.
Anyone who is conscious that this is happening within himself should give God
great praise, for he will be very right to recognize what a favour it is; and
the thanksgiving which he makes for it will prepare him for greater favours. One
preparation for listening to Him, as certain books tell us, is that we should
contrive, not to use our reasoning powers, but to be intent upon discovering
what the Lord is working in the soul; for, if His Majesty has not begun to grant
us absorption, I cannot understand how we can cease thinking in any way which
will not bring us more harm than profit, although this has been a matter of
continual discussion among spiritual persons. For my own part, I confess my lack
of humility, but their arguments have never seemed to me good enough to lead me
to accept what they say. One person told me of a certain book by the saintly
Fray Peter of Alcāntara (for a saint I believe he is), which would certainly
have convinced me, for I know how much he knew about such things; but we read it
together, and found that he says exactly what I say, although not in the same
words; it is quite clear from what he says that love must already be awake. It is
possible that I am mistaken, but I base my position on the following reasons.
First, in such spiritual activity as this, the person who does most is he who
thinks least and desires to do least: what
we have to do is to beg like poor and needy persons coming before a great and
rich Emperor and then cast down our eyes in humble expectation. When from the
secret signs He gives us we seem to realize that He is hearing us, it is well
for us to keep silence, since He has permitted us to be near Him and there will
be no harm in our striving not to labour with the understanding — provided, I
mean, that we are able to do so. But if we are not quite sure that the King has
heard us, or sees us, we must not stay where we are like ninnies, for there
still remains a great deal for the soul to do when it has stilled the
understanding; if it did nothing more it would experience much greater aridity
and the imagination would grow more restless because of the effort caused it by
cessation from thought. The Lord wishes us rather to make requests of Him and to
remember that we are in His presence, for He knows what is fitting for us. I
cannot believe in the efficacy of human activity in matters where His Majesty
appears to have set a limit to it and to have been pleased to reserve action to
Himself. There are many other things in which He has not so reserved it, such as
penances, works of charity and prayers; these, with His aid, we can practise for
ourselves, as far as our miserable nature is capable of them.
The second reason is that all these interior activities are gentle and
peaceful, and to do anything painful brings us harm rather than help. By
"anything painful" I mean anything that we try to force ourselves to do; it
would be painful, for example, to hold our breath. The soul must just leave
itself in the hands of God, and do what He wills it to do, completely
disregarding its own advantage and resigning itself as much as it possibly can
to the will of God. The third reason is that the very effort which the soul
makes in order to cease from thought will perhaps awaken thought and cause it to
think a great deal. The fourth reason is that the most important and pleasing
thing in God's eyes is our remembering His honour and glory and forgetting
ourselves and our own profit and ease and pleasure. And how can a person be
forgetful of himself when he is taking such great care about his actions that he
dare not even stir, or allow his understanding and desires to stir, even for the
purpose of desiring the greater glory of God or of rejoicing in the glory which
is His? When His Majesty wishes the working of the understanding to cease, He
employs it in another manner, and illumines the soul's knowledge to so much
higher a degree than any we can ourselves attain that He leads it into a state
of absorption, in which, without knowing how, it is much better instructed than
it could ever be as a result of its own efforts, which would only spoil
everything. God gave us our faculties to work with, and everything will have its
due reward; there is no reason, then, for trying to cast a spell over them —
they must be allowed to perform their office until God gives them a better one.
As I understand it, the soul whom the Lord has been pleased to lead into this
Mansion will do best to act as I have said. Let it try, without forcing itself
or causing any turmoil, to put a stop to all discursive reasoning, yet not to
suspend the understanding, nor to cease from all thought, though it is well for
it to remember that it is in God's presence and Who this God is. If feeling this
should lead it into a state of absorption, well and good; but it should not try
to understand what this state is, because that is a gift bestowed upon the will.
The will, then, should be left to enjoy it, and should not labour except for
uttering a few loving words, for although in such a case one may not be striving
to cease from thought, such cessation often comes, though for a very short time.
I have explained elsewhere the
reason why this occurs in this kind of prayer (I am referring to the kind which
I began to explain in this Mansion). With it I have included this Prayer of
Recollection which ought to have been described first, for it comes far below
the consolations of God already mentioned, and is indeed the first step towards
attaining them. For in the Prayer of Recollection it is unnecessary to abandon
meditation and the activities of the understanding. When, instead of coming
through conduits, the water springs directly from its source, the understanding
checks its activity, or rather the activity is checked for it when it finds it
cannot understand what it desires, and thus it roams about all over the place,
like a demented creature, and can settle down to nothing. The will is fixed so
firmly upon its God that this disturbed condition of the understanding causes it
great distress; but it must not take any notice of this, for if it does so it
will lose a great part of what it is enjoying; it must forget about it, and
abandon itself into the arms of love, and His Majesty will teach it what to do
next; almost its whole work is to realize its unworthiness to receive such great
good and to occupy itself in thanksgiving.
In order to discuss the
Prayer of Recollection I passed over the effects or signs to be observed in
souls to whom this prayer is granted by God Our Lord. It is clear that a
dilation or enlargement of the soul takes place, as if the water proceeding from
the spring had no means of running away, but the fountain had a device ensuring
that, the more freely the water flowed, the larger became the basin. So it is in
this kind of prayer, and God works many more wonders in the soul, thus fitting
and gradually disposing it to retain all that He gives it. So this gentle
movement and this interior dilation cause the soul to be less constrained in
matters relating to the service of God than it was before and give it much more
freedom. It is not oppressed, for example, by the fear of hell, for, though it
desires more than ever not to offend God (of Whom, however, it has lost all
servile fear), it has firm confidence that it is destined to have fruition of
Him. A person who used to be afraid of doing penance lest he should ruin his
health now believes that in God he can do everything, and has more desire to do
such things than he had previously. The fear of trials that he was wont to have
is now largely assuaged, because he has a more lively faith, and realizes that,
if he endures these trials for God's sake, His Majesty will give him grace to
bear them patiently, and sometimes even to desire them, because he also
cherishes a great desire to do something for God. The better he gets to know the
greatness of God, the better he comes to realize the misery of his own
condition; having now tasted the consolations of God, he sees that earthly
things are mere refuse; so, little by little, he withdraws from them and in this
way becomes more and more his own master. In short, he finds himself
strengthened in all the virtues and will infallibly continue to increase in them
unless he turns back and commits offenses against God — when that happens,
everything is lost, however far a man may have climbed towards the crest of the
mountain. It must not be understood, however, that all these things take place
because once or twice God has granted a soul this favour; it must continue
receiving them, for it is from their continuance that all our good proceeds.
There is one earnest warning which I must give those who find themselves in
this state: namely, that they exert the very greatest care to keep themselves
from occasions of offending God. For as yet the soul is not even weaned but is
like a child beginning to suck the breast. If it be taken from its mother, what
can it be expected to do but die? That, I am very much afraid, will be the lot
of anyone to whom God has granted this favour if he gives up prayer; unless he
does so for some very exceptional reason, or unless he returns to it quickly, he
will go from bad to worse. I am aware how much ground there is for fear about
this and I have been very much grieved by certain people I know, in whom I have
seen what I am describing; they have left Him Who in His great love was yearning
to give Himself to them as a Friend, and to prove His friendship by His works. I
earnestly warn such people not to enter upon occasions of sin, because the devil
sets much more store by one soul in this state than by a great number of souls
to whom the Lord does not grant these favours. For those in this state attract
others, and so they can do the devil great harm and may well bring great
advantage to the Church of God. He may see nothing else in them except that His
Majesty is showing them especial love, but this is quite sufficient to make him
do his utmost to bring about their perdition. The conflict, then, is sterner for
such souls than for others and if they are lost their fate is less remediable.
You, sisters, so far as we know, are free from these perils. May God free you
from pride and vainglory and grant that the devil may not counterfeit these
favours. Such counterfeits, however, will be recognizable because they will not
produce these effects, but quite contrary ones.
There is one peril of which I want to warn you, though I have spoken of it
elsewhere; I have seen persons given to prayer fall into it, and especially
women, for, as we are weaker than men, we run more risk of what I am going to
describe. It is this: some women, because of prayers, vigils and severe
penances, and also for other reasons, have poor health. When they experience any
spiritual consolation, therefore, their physical nature is too much for them;
and as soon as they feel any interior joy there comes over them a physical
weakness and languor, and they fall into a sleep, which they call "spiritual",
and which is a little more marked than the condition that has been described.
Thinking the one state to be the same as the other, they abandon themselves to
this absorption; and the more they relax, the more complete becomes this
absorption, because their physical nature continues to grow weaker. So they get
it into their heads that it is arrobamiento, or rapture. But I call it
abobamiento, foolishness; for
they are doing nothing but wasting their time at it and ruining their health.
One person was in this state for eight hours; she was not unconscious, nor
was she conscious of anything concerning God. She was cured by being told to
take more food and sleep and to do less penance; for, though she had misled both
her confessor and other people and, quite involuntarily, deceived herself, there
was one person who understood her. I believe the devil would go to any pains to
gain such people as that and he was beginning to make good progress with this
one.
It must be understood that although, when this state is something that really
comes from God, there may be languor, both interior and exterior, there will be
none in the soul, which, when it finds itself near God, is moved with great joy.
The experience does not last long, but only for a little while. Although the
soul may become absorbed again, yet this kind of prayer, as I have said, except
in cases of physical weakness, does not go so far as to overcome the body or to
produce in it any exterior sensation. Be advised, then, and, if you experience
anything of this kind, tell your superior, and relax as much as you can. The
superior should give such persons fewer hours of prayer — very few, indeed —
and should see that they sleep and eat well, until their physical strength, if
it has become exhausted, comes back again. If their constitution is so weak that
this does not suffice, they can be certain that God is not calling them to
anything beyond the active life. There is room in convents for people of all
kinds; let anyone of this type, then, be kept busy with duties, and let care be
taken that she is not left alone very much, or her health will be completely
ruined. This sort of life will be a great mortification to her, but it is here
that the Lord wishes to test her love for Him by seeing how she bears His
absence and after a while He may well be pleased to restore her strength; if He
is not, her vocal prayer and her obedience will bring her as much benefit and
merit as she would have obtained in other ways, and perhaps more.
There may also be some who are so weak in intellect and imagination — I have
known such — that they believe they actually see all they imagine. This is
highly dangerous and perhaps we shall treat of it later, but no more shall be
said here; for I have written at great length of this Mansion, as it is the one
which the greatest number of souls enter. As the natural is united with the
supernatural in it, it is here that the devil can do most harm; for in the
Mansions of which I have not yet spoken the Lord gives him fewer opportunities.
May He be for ever praised. Amen.
FIFTH MANSIONS
In which there are Four Chapters.
CHAPTER I
Begins to explain how in prayer the soul is united with God.
Describes how we may know that we are not mistaken about this.
OH, sisters! How shall I ever be able to tell you of the
riches and the treasures and the delights which are to be found in the fifth
Mansions? I think it would be better if I were to say nothing of the Mansions I
have not yet treated, for no one can describe them, the understanding is unable
to comprehend them and no comparisons will avail to explain them, for earthly
things are quite insufficient for this purpose. Send me light from Heaven, my
Lord, that I may enlighten these Thy servants, to some of whom Thou art often
pleased to grant fruition of these joys, lest, when the devil transfigures
himself into an angel of light, he should deceive them, for all their desires
are occupied in desiring to please Thee.
Although I said "to some", there are really very few who do not enter these
Mansions that I am about to describe. Some get farther than others; but, as I
say, the majority manage to get inside. Some of the things which are in this
room, and which I will mention here, are, I am sure, attained by very few; but,
if they do no more than reach the door, God is showing them great mercy by
granting them this; for, though many are called, few are chosen. So I
must say here that, though all of us who wear this sacred habit of Carmel are called
to prayer and contemplation — because that was the first principle of our Order
and because we are descendent upon the line of those holy Fathers of ours from
Mount Carmel who sought this treasure, this precious pearl of which we speak, in
such great solitude and with such contempt for the world — few of us prepare ourselves for the Lord to reveal it to us. As far as externals are
concerned, we are on the right road to attaining the essential virtues; but we
shall need to do a very great deal before we can attain to this higher state and
we must on no account be careless. So let us pause here, my sisters, and beg the
Lord that, since to some extent it is possible for us to enjoy Heaven upon
earth, He will grant us His help so that it will not be our fault if we miss
anything may He also show us the road and give strength to our souls so that we
may dig until we find this hidden treasure, since it is quite true that we have
it within ourselves. This I should like to explain if the Lord is pleased to
give me the knowledge.
I said "strength to our souls", because you must understand that we do not
need bodily strength if God our Lord does not give it us; there is no one for
whom He makes it impossible to buy His riches; provided each gives w
