Life of St Teresa of Jesus by Teresa of Avila (e ink epub reader TXT) 📕

more and more, and to follow my rule and vocation in the greatest

perfection and seclusion, yet I wished to do so only

conditionally: for if I should have learnt that it would be for

the greater honour of our Lord to abandon it, I would have done

so, as I did before on one occasion, [16] in all peace

and contentment.

5. I felt as if I were in bliss, when I saw the most Holy

Sacrament reserved, with four poor orphans, [17]—for they were

received without a dowry,—and great servants of God, established

in the house. It was our aim from the beginning to receive only

those who, by their example, might be the foundation on which we

could build up what we had in view—great perfection and

prayer—and effect a work which I believed to be for the service

of our Lord, and to the honour of the habit of His glorious

Mother. This was my anxiety. It was also a great consolation to

me that I had done that which our Lord had so often commanded me

to do, and that there was one church more in this city dedicated

to my glorious father St. Joseph. Not that I thought I had done

anything myself, for I have never thought so, and do not think so

even now; I always looked upon it as the work of our Lord.

My part in it was so full of imperfections, that I look upon

myself rather as a person in fault than as one to whom any thanks

are due. But it was a great joy to me when I saw His Majesty

make use of me, who am so worthless, as His instrument in so

grand a work. I was therefore in great joy,—so much so, that I

was, as it were, beside myself, lost in prayer.

6. When all was done—it might have been about three or four

hours afterwards—Satan returned to the spiritual fight against

me, as I shall now relate. He suggested to me that perhaps I had

been wrong in what I had done; perhaps I had failed in my

obedience, in having brought it about without the commandment of

the Provincial. I did certainly think that the Provincial would

be displeased because I had placed the monastery under the

jurisdiction of the Bishop [18] without telling him of it

beforehand; though, as he would not acknowledge the monastery

himself, and as I had not changed mine, it seemed to me that

perhaps he would not care much about the matter. Satan also

suggested whether the nuns would be contented to live in so

strict a house, whether they could always find food, whether I

had not done a silly thing, and what had I to do with it, when I

was already in a monastery? All our Lord had said to me, all the

opinions I had heard, and all the prayers which had been almost

uninterrupted for more than two years, were completely blotted

out of my memory, just as if they had never been. The only thing

I remembered was my own opinion; and every virtue, with faith

itself, was then suspended within me, so that I was without

strength to practise any one of them, or to defend myself against

so many blows.

7. The devil also would have me ask myself how I could think of

shutting myself up in so strict a house, when I was subject to so

many infirmities; how could I bear so penitential a life, and

leave a house large and pleasant, where I had been always so

happy, and where I had so many friends?—perhaps I might not like

those of the new monastery; I had taken on myself a heavy

obligation, and might possibly end in despair. He also suggested

that perhaps it was he himself who had contrived it, in order to

rob me of my peace and rest, so that, being unable to pray, I

might be disquieted, and so lose my soul. Thoughts of this kind

he put before me; and they were so many, that I could think of

nothing else; and with them came such distress, obscurity, and

darkness of soul as I can never describe. When I found myself in

this state, I went and placed myself before the most Holy

Sacrament, though I could not pray to Him; so great was my

anguish, that I was like one in the agony of death. I could not

make the matter known to any one, because no confessor had as yet

been appointed.

8. O my God, how wretched is this life! No joy is lasting;

everything is liable to change. Only a moment ago, I do not

think I would have exchanged my joy with any man upon earth; and

the very grounds of that joy so tormented me now, that I knew not

what to do with myself. Oh, if we did but consider carefully the

events of our life, every one of us would learn from experience

how little we ought to make either of its pleasures or of its

pains! Certainly this was, I believe, one of the most

distressing moments I ever passed in all my life; my spirit

seemed to forecast the great sufferings in store for me, though

they never were so heavy as this was, if it had continued.

But our Lord would not let His poor servant suffer, for in all my

troubles He never failed to succour me; so it was now. He gave

me a little light, so that I might see it was the work of the

devil, and might understand the truth,—namely, that it was

nothing else but an attempt on his part to frighten me with his

lies. So I began to call to mind my great resolutions to serve

our Lord, and my desire to suffer for His sake; and I thought

that if I carried them out, I must not seek to be at rest; that

if I had my trials, they would be meritorious; and that if I had

troubles, and endured them in order to please God, it would serve

me for purgatory. What was I, then, afraid of? If I longed for

tribulations, I had them now; and my gain lay in the greatest

opposition. Why, then, did I fail in courage to serve One to

whom I owed so much?

9. After making these and other reflections, and doing great

violence to myself, I promised before the most Holy Sacrament to

do all in my power to obtain permission to enter this house, and,

if I could do it with a good conscience, to make a vow of

enclosure. When I had done this, the devil fled in a moment, and

left me calm and peaceful, and I have continued so ever since;

and the enclosure, penances, and other rules of this house are to

me, in their observance, so singularly sweet and light, the joy I

have is so exceedingly great, that I am now and then thinking

what on earth I could have chosen which should be more

delightful. I know not whether this may not be the cause of my

being in better health than I was ever before, or whether it be

that our Lord, because it is needful and reasonable that I should

do as all the others do, gives me this comfort of keeping the

whole rule, though with some difficulty. However, all who know

my infirmities, are astonished at my strength. Blessed be He who

giveth it all, and in whose strength I am strong!

10. Such a contest left me greatly fatigued, and laughing at

Satan; for I saw clearly it was he. As I have never known what

it is to be discontented because I am a nun—no, not for an

instant—during more than twenty-eight years of religion, I

believe that our Lord suffered me to be thus tempted, that I

might understand how great a mercy He had shown me herein, and

from what torment He had delivered me, and that if I saw any one

in like trouble I might not be alarmed at it, but have pity on

her, and be able to console her.

11. Then, when this was over, I wished to rest myself a little

after our dinner; for during the whole of that night I had

scarcely rested at all, and for some nights previously I had had

much trouble and anxiety, while every day was full of toil; for

the news of what we had done had reached my monastery, and was

spread through the city. There arose a great outcry, for the

reasons I mentioned before, [19] and there was some apparent

ground for it. The prioress [20] sent for me to come to her

immediately. When I received the order, I went at once, leaving

the nuns in great distress. I saw clearly enough that there were

troubles before me; but as the work was really done, I did not

care much for that. I prayed and implored our Lord to help me,

and my father St. Joseph to bring me back to his house.

I offered up to him all I was to suffer, rejoicing greatly that I

had the opportunity of suffering for his honour and of doing him

service. I went persuaded that I should be put in prison at once

but this would have been a great comfort, because I should have

nobody to speak to, and might have some rest and solitude, of

which I was in great need; for so much intercourse with people

had worn me out.

12. When I came and told the prioress what I had done, she was

softened a little. They all sent for the Provincial, and the

matter was reserved for him. When he came, I was summoned to

judgment, rejoicing greatly at seeing that I had something to

suffer for our Lord. I did not think I had offended against His

Majesty, or against my Order, in anything I had done; on the

contrary, I was striving with all my might to exalt my Order, for

which I would willingly have died,—for my whole desire was that

its rule might be observed in all perfection. I thought of

Christ receiving sentence, and I saw how this of mine would be

less than nothing. I confessed my fault, as if I had been very

much to blame; and so I seemed to every one who did not know all

the reasons. After the Provincial had rebuked me sharply—though

not with the severity which my fault deserved, nor according to

the representations made to him—I would not defend myself, for I

was determined to bear it all; on the contrary, I prayed him to

forgive and punish, and be no longer angry with me.

13. I saw well enough that they condemned me on some charges of

which I was innocent, for they said I had founded the monastery

that I might be thought much of, and to make myself a name, and

for other reasons of that kind. But on other points I understood

clearly that they were speaking the truth, as when they said that

I was more wicked than the other nuns. They asked, how could I,

who had not kept the rule in that house, think of keeping it in

another of stricter observance? They said I was giving scandal

in the city, and setting up novelties. All this neither troubled

nor distressed me in the least, though I did seem to feel it,

lest I should appear to make light