Chapter 30 - The Life of Teresa of Jesus - Autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila

   The Life of Holy Mother
        Teresa of Jesus

   The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus,
of the Order of Our Lady of Carmel

       CHAPTER 30

She continues
-  the history of her life, and
-  how God sent her a remedy for all her anxieties 
      by calling the holy Friar Fray Pedro de Alcantara 
   of the Order of the glorious St. Francis 
      to the place where she lived. 


She mentions 
- some great temptations and interior trials 
    through which she sometimes had to pass.
- St. Peter of Alcantara Comforts the Saint. 
- Great Temptations and
- Interior Trials. 
_______________________

     Topics/ Questions
       to keep in mind
      as we read along:

1). Regarding the great impulses of love
        that she experienced, what did
      St. Teresa find hard to understand ?
            [ Life: Ch.30: # 1 ] 

2). How did St. Teresa describe her
      initial method of Confession
         to St. Peter  of Alcantara?
             [ Life: Ch.30: # 4 ] 

3). Why was it so important
       and beneficial for St. Teresa
       that her Confessor have experience
        and advancement in  prayer?
           [ Life: Ch.30: # 4, 6, 7, 5, 12, 13 ] 

4). What does St. Teresa say is a great
          "pleasure or comfort"
      for  "a person, whom our Lord
            has raised to this state" ?
              [ Life: Ch.30: # 6 ] 

5). How did St. Teresa describe
         "false humility" in herself ?
            [ Life: Ch.30: # 10 ] 

6). How did she distinguish between
      true humility and false humility?
          [ Life: Ch.30: # 10, 11, 12   ] 


7). St. Teresa described the state of her soul
       and its interior trials.
      Her description seems to corresponds
         to the later writings
        of St. John of the Cross regarding
            the dark night of faith,
            the night of the spirit".

       What were  her comments ?
         [ Life: Ch.30: # 14, 15, 18, 19, 22  ]

8). What helped her
        in her interior trials and
      what does she advise?
        [ Life: Ch.30: # 16,  17  ] 

9). What did St. teresa say about her
        need for books written
        on the subject of prayer?
           [ Life: Ch.30: # 20, 21 ] 

10). How does she compare
         her current state
       with "the other states (wherin)
          so great are the effects" such as,
       "those great impetuosities of love"?
          [ Life: Ch.30: # 23, 25] 

11). How does St. Teresa discuss
      the value of  bodily weakness
         and poor health in terms
            of  Penance?
        [ Life: Ch.30: # 25, 26 ] 

12). What did St. Teresa say about
      her love for God and her ability
       to render good works?
          [ Life: Ch.30: # 21, 24, 26 ] 

_________________________

          Chapter 30

1. When I saw
   that I was able to do little or nothing
      towards avoiding these
           great impetuosities,
 I began also to be afraid of them,
  because I could not understand
    how this pain and joy 
        could subsist together.

 I knew it was possible enough
    for bodily pain and spiritual joy
            to dwell together;

  but the coexistence 
            of a spiritual pain
                  so excessive as this, and 
            of joy 
                  so deep,
     troubled my understanding.

   Still, I tried to continue my resistance;

   but I was so little able,
      that I was now and then wearied.

   I used to
      take up the cross for protection, and
      try to defend myself against Him
  who, by the cross, is the Protector of us all.

I saw that no one understood me.

I saw it very clearly myself,
   but I did not dare to say so
       to any one except my confessor;
   for that would have been a real admission
       that I had no humility.

2. Our Lord was pleased
  to succour me
             in a great measure,
          --and, for the moment, altogether,--
     by bringing to the place where I was
      that blessed friar, Peter of Alcantara.

  Of him I spoke before,
   and said something of his penance. [443]

Among other things, I have been assured
 that he wore continually, for twenty years,
      a girdle made of iron. [444]

He is the author of certain little books,
     in Spanish, on prayer,
   which are now in common use;

for, as he was much exercised therein,
   his writings are very profitable to those
     who are given to prayer.

He kept the first rule
    ("Primitive rule" -Peers translation)
           of the blessed St. Francis
                in all its rigour, and
     did those things besides
            of which I spoke before.

3. When that widow,
          the servant of God and my friend,
          of whom I have already spoken, [445]
     knew that so great a man had come,
          she took her measures.

    She knew the straits I was in, for she
      was an eye-witness
                   of my afflictions, and
      was a great comfort to me.

    Her faith was so strong,
      that she could not help believing
                      that what others said
                      was the work of the devil
         was really the work
                of the Spirit of God;

   and as she is a person
      of great sense and great caution,
   and one to whom our Lord is very bountiful
      in prayer,
   it pleased His Majesty to let her see
       what learned men failed to discern.

  My confessors gave me leave
      to accept relief in some things from her,
  because in many ways
      she was able to afford it.

  Some of those graces
   which our Lord bestowed on me
       fell to her lot occasionally,
    together with instructions most profitable
        for her soul.

  So, then, when she knew
     that the blessed man was come,
  without saying a word to me,
     she obtained leave from the Provincial
  for me to stay eight days in her house,
     in order that I might the more easily
           confer with him.

  In that house,
    and in one church or another,
  I had many conversations with him
    the first time he came here;
  for, afterwards, I had many
    communications with him at diverse times.

4. I gave him an account,
              as briefly as I could,
       of my life, and
       of my way of prayer,
    with the utmost clearness in my power.

I have always held to this,
        to be perfectly frank and exact
  with those to whom I make known
        the state of my soul. [446]

Even my first impulses 
    I wish them to know;
and as for doubtful and suspicious matters,
    I used to make the most of them by
             arguing against myself.

Thus, then,
         without equivocation or concealment,
   I laid before him the state of my soul.

I saw almost at once
          that he understood me, 
    by reason of his own experience.

That was all I required;

 for at that time I did not know myself
       as I do now,
  so as to give an account of my state.

It was at a later time
   that God enabled me to
        understand myself, and
        describe the graces
           which His Majesty bestows upon me.

It was necessary, then,
   that he who would
               clearly understand and
               explain my state
     should have had experience 
              of it, himself.

5. The light he threw on the matter
         was of the clearest;
for as to these visions, at least,
      which were not imaginary,
I could not understand how they could be.

And it seemed
       that I could not understand, too,
    how those could be
       which I saw with the eyes of the soul;

    for, as I said before, [447]
     those visions only seemed to me
         to be of consequence
     which were seen with the bodily eyes:
         and of these I had none.

The holy man
    enlightened me on the whole question,
    explained it to me, and
    bade me
          not to be distressed,
          but to praise God, and
    to abide in the full conviction
      that this was the work 
          of the Spirit of God;

for, saving the faith,
     nothing could be more true, and
there was nothing
     on which I could more firmly rely.

He was greatly comforted in me,
      was most kind and serviceable,
and ever afterwards
       took great care of me,

and told me of his own affairs and labours;
and when he saw
    that I had those very desires
       which in himself were fulfilled already,
               -- for our Lord had given me
                         very strong desires,--
    and also how great my resolution was,
        he delighted in conversing with me.

6. To a person
         whom our Lord has raised to this state,
      there is no pleasure or comfort 
          equal to that of  meeting with another  
             whom our Lord has begun 
          to raise in the same way.

At that time, however,
     it must have been
         only a beginning with me,
                as I believe; and
God grant I may not have gone back now.

He was extremely sorry for me.

He told me
   that one of the greatest trials
             in this world
       was that which I had borne, namely,
   the contradiction of good people,[448]
       and that more was in reserve for me:

I had need, therefore, of some one
        --and there was no one in this city--
      who understood me;

but he would speak
     to my confessor,  and
     to that married nobleman,
         already spoken of, [449]
  who was one of those
  who tormented me most, and
  who, because of his great affection for me,
     was the cause of all these attacks.

He was a holy
     but timid man, and
        ("God-fearing" - Peers translation)
     could not feel safe about me,
     because he had seen
        how wicked I was,
     and that not long before.

The holy man did so;
he spoke to them both,
     explained the matter, and
     gave them reasons
         why they should
               reassure themselves, and
               disturb me no more.

  My confessor was easily satisfied,

  not so the nobleman;
      for though they were not enough
          to keep him quiet,
  yet they kept him in some measure
      from frightening me so much
         as he used to do.

7. We made an agreement
 that I should write to him and
       tell him how it fared with me,
            for the future, and
  that we should pray much for each other.

Such was his humility,
   that he held to the prayers
       of a wretch like me.

It made me very much ashamed of myself.

He left me in the greatest consolation
            and joy,
      bidding me continue my prayer
            with confidence, and
          without any doubt
             that it was the work of God.

If I should have any doubts,
             for my greater security,
    I was to make them known
             to my confessor, and,
       having done so, be in peace.

 Nevertheless, I was not able at all
      to feel that confidence,
for our Lord was leading me 
      by the way of fear;

and so, when they told me
  that the devil had power over me,
      I believed them.

  Thus, then, not one of them
    was able to inspire me
         with confidence on the one hand, or
         (with) fear on the other,
    in such a way as to make me believe
          either of them,
    otherwise than as our Lord allowed me.

Accordingly, though the holy friar
       consoled and calmed me,
   I did not rely so much on him
       as to be altogether without fear,
   particularly when our Lord forsook me
       in the afflictions of my soul,
   of which I will now speak.

Nevertheless, as I have said,
   I was very much consoled.

8. I could not give thanks enough
       to God, and
       to my glorious father St. Joseph,
         who seemed to me
       to have brought him here.

He was the commissary-general
    of the custody [450]
        of St. Joseph,
            to whom, and
            to our Lady,
        I used to pray much.

9. I suffered at times
                and even still,
                though not so often
       the most grievous trials, 
       together with bodily pains
                and afflictions
           arising from violent sicknesses;
                so much so,
      that I could scarcely control myself.

At other times, my bodily sickness
      was more grievous;
and as I had no spiritual pain,
       I bore it with great joy:

but, when both pains came
         upon me together,
    my distress was so heavy,
         that I was reduced to sore straits.

10. I forgot all the mercies
         our Lord had shown me, and
     remembered them only as a dream,
         to my great distress;

    for my understanding was so dull,
       that I had a thousand
              doubts and suspicions
    whether I had ever understood matters
               aright,
     thinking
         that perhaps all was fancy, and
         that it was enough for me
             to have deceived myself,
         without also deceiving good men.

 I looked upon myself
     as so wicked
     as to have been the cause,
                      by my sins,
        of
            all the evils and
            all the heresies that had sprung up.

This is but a false humility,
and Satan invented it
     for the purpose of
        disquieting me, and
        trying whether he could thereby
             drive my soul to despair.

   I have now had so much experience,
      that I know this was his work;

      so he, seeing that I understand him,
        does not torment me in the same way
      as much as he used to do.

That it is his work 
    is clear 
       from 
               the restlessness and discomfort 
                     with which it begins, and
               the trouble it causes in the soul
                     while it lasts;

       from
               the obscurity and distress,
               the aridity and indisposition 
                     for prayer and
                     for every good work,
                 which it produces.

It seems to
               stifle the soul and
               trammel the body,
         so as to make them good for nothing.

11. Now,
  though the soul acknowledges itself
            to be miserable, and
  though it is painful to us
            to see ourselves as we are, and
  though we have most deep convictions
             of our own wickedness,
      deep as those spoken of just now [451],
             and really felt,

yet true humility
    is not attended with trouble;
    it does not disturb the soul;
    it causes neither obscurity nor aridity:

on the contrary,
    it consoles.
    It is altogether different,   bringing with it
        calm, sweetness, and light.

It is no doubt painful;
but, on the other hand, it is consoling,
  because we see
     how great is the mercy of our Lord
        in allowing the soul to have that pain,
     and how well the soul is occupied.

On the one hand, the soul grieves 
     over its offences against God;
on the other, His compassion makes it glad.

It has light,
    which makes it ashamed of itself; and
it gives thanks to His Majesty,
    who has borne with it so long.


That other humility (false humility),
          which is the work of Satan,
   furnishes no light for any good work;

  it pictures God as bringing upon everything
            fire and sword;
  it dwells upon His justice;
  and the soul's faith in the mercy of God
                       -- for the power of the devil
                           does not reach so far
                           as to destroy faith--
       is of such a nature
                           as to give me no consolation:

  on the contrary,
       the consideration of mercies so great
             helps to increase the pain,
       because I look upon myself
             as bound to render greater service.

12. This invention of Satan is one
     of the most painful, subtle, and crafty
  that I have known him to possess;

I should therefore like to warn you,
              my father, of it,
  in order that,
    if Satan should tempt you herein,
       you may
              have some light, and
              be aware of his devices,
   if your understanding should be left
              at liberty:
       because you must not suppose 
              that learning and knowledge 
                     are of any use here;

         for though I have none of them myself,
              yet now that I have escaped 
                     out of his hands 
              I see clearly that this is folly.

 What I understood by it is this:
   that it is our Lord's pleasure
       to give him leave and license,
   as He gave him of old to tempt Job; [452]

   though in my case,
       because of my wretchedness,
   the temptation is not so sharp.

13. It happened to me to be tempted once
             in this way; and

  I remember it was on the day
       before the vigil of Corpus Christi,
          a feast to which I have great devotion,
       though not so great as I ought to have.

   The trial then lasted only
       till the day of the feast itself.

    But, on other occasions, it continued
         one, two, and even three weeks and
            -- I know not--
         perhaps longer.

   But I was specially liable to it
         during the Holy Weeks,
   when it was my habit
         to make prayer my joy.

Then the devil seizes on my understanding
            in a moment;
            and occasionally,
   by means of things so trivial
       that I should laugh at them
             at any other time,
       he makes it stumble over anything
             he likes.

The soul, laid in fetters,
   loses
       all control over itself, and
       all power of thinking of  anything
           but the absurdities he puts before it,
     which, being more or less
           unsubstantial, inconsistent,
           and disconnected,
      serve only to stifle the soul,
         so that it has no power over itself;
      and accordingly--so it seems to me--
         the devils make a football of it, and
         the soul is unable to escape
              out of their hands.

It is impossible to describe the sufferings
       of the soul in this state.
It goes about in quest of relief,
       and God suffers it to find none.

The light of reason,
              in the freedom of its will,
         remains,
              but it is not clear;

    it seems to me
         as if its eyes were covered with a veil.

As a person who,
   having travelled often by a particular road,
   knows,
               though it be night and dark,
     by his past experience of it,
         where he may stumble, and
         where he ought to be on his guard
               against that risk,
   because he has seen the place by day, 
     so the soul avoids offending God:

   it seems to go on by habit

          --that is, if we put out of sight
                 the fact that our Lord
                       holds it by the hand,
            which is the true explanation
                       of the matter.

14. Faith is then as dead, and asleep,
                    like all the other virtues;
            not lost, however,--
    for the soul truly believes
           all that the church holds;

    but its profession of the faith
           is hardly more
    than an outward profession
           of the mouth.

   And, on the other hand,
      temptations seem to
              press it down, and
              make it dull,
       so that its knowledge of God
           becomes to it as that of something
       which it hears of far away.

   So tepid is its love
        that, when it hears God spoken of,
     it listens and believes
        that He is  what He is,
    because the Church so teaches;

     but it recollects nothing
          of its own former experience.

Vocal prayer or solitude is only
       a greater affliction,
 because the interior suffering
             --whence it comes, it knows not--
      is unendurable, and,
                 as it seems to me,
      in some measure a counterpart of hell.

So it is, as our Lord showed me
       in a vision; [453]
  for the soul itself is then 
        burning in the fire,
        knowing 
                 not who has kindled it,
                 nor whence it comes,
                 nor how to escape it,
                 nor how to put it out:

if it seeks relief from the fire
         by spiritual reading,
     it cannot find any,
         just as if it could not read at all.

     On one occasion, it occurred to me
        to read a life of a Saint,
     that I might
        forget myself, and
        be refreshed with the recital
               of what he had suffered.

    Four or five times,
        I read as many lines;
    and, though they were written in Spanish,
        I understood them less at the end
    than I did when I began:
       so I gave it up.

    It so happened to me
       on more occasions than one,
    but I have a more distinct recollection
       of this.

15. To converse with any one is worse,
    for the devil then sends
       so offensive a spirit of bad temper,
    that I think I could eat people up;
       nor can I help myself.

   I feel that I do something
      when I keep myself under control;
   or rather our Lord does so,
      when He holds back with His hand
            any one in this state
      from saying or doing something
            that may be
                hurtful to his neighbours and
                offensive to God.

Then, as to going to our confessor,
       that is of no use;
 for the certain result is
                    --and very often
                       has it happened to me--
      what I shall now describe.

Though my confessors,
           with whom I
                 had to do then, and
                 have to do still,
      are so holy,
        they spoke to me and reproved me
                 with such harshness,
           that they were astonished at it
                afterwards when I told them of it.

They said
          that they could not help themselves;
    for,
         though they had resolved
             not to use such language, and
         though they pitied me also very much,
             --yea, even had scruples on the subject,
               because of my grievous trials
                   of soul and body,--
               and were, moreover, determined
                    to console me,
    they could not refrain.

They did not use unbecoming words
         --I mean, words offensive to God;
  yet their words were the most offensive
         that could be borne with in confession.

 They must have aimed at mortifying me.

At other times, I used
       to delight in this, and
       was prepared to bear it;
   but it was then a torment altogether.

I used to think, too,
       that I deceived them;
   so I went to them, and
       cautioned them very earnestly
          to be on their guard against me,
   for it might be that I deceived them.

I saw well enough
    that I would
        not do so advisedly,
        nor tell them an untruth; [454]
   but everything made me afraid.

One of them, on one occasion,
    when he had heard me speak
            of this temptation,
       told me not to distress myself;

      for, even if I wished to deceive him,
           he had sense enough
                not to be deceived.

       This gave me great comfort.

16. Sometimes, almost always
              ,--at least, very frequently,--
I used to find rest after Communion;

   now and then, even, as I drew near 
             to the most Holy Sacrament,
      all at once my soul and body 
             would be so well,
      that I was amazed. [455]

     It seemed to be nothing else
          but an instantaneous dispersion 
        of the darkness that covered my soul:
     when the sun rose,
         I saw how silly I had been.

17. On other occasions,
  if our Lord spoke to me
          but one word, saying only,
     "Be not distressed, have no fear,"
          --as I said before, [456]--
      I was made whole at once;

or, if I saw a vision,
        I was as if I had never been amiss.
        I rejoiced in God, and
              made my complaint to Him,
           because He permitted me
              to undergo such afflictions;

     yet the recompense was great;
         for almost always, afterwards,
     His mercies descended upon me
         in great abundance.

     The soul seemed to come forth
         as gold out of the crucible,
                 most refined, and
                 made glorious to behold,
         our Lord dwelling within it.

      These trials afterwards are light,
          though they once seemed
                 to be unendurable;

    and the soul longs to undergo them again,
       if that be more pleasing to our Lord.

And though trials and persecutions increase,
 yet, if we bear them
           without offending our Lord,
    rejoicing in suffering for His sake,
         it will be all the greater gain:

    I, however, do not bear them
       as they ought to be borne,
    but rather in a most imperfect way.

    At other times, my trials came upon  me
            --they come still--
            in another form;

     and then it seems to me
      as if the very possibility of
             thinking a good thought, or 
             desiring the accomplishment of it, 
         were utterly taken from me:

       both soul and body are
             altogether useless and
             a heavy burden.

However, when I am in this state,
    I do not suffer
          from the other
               temptations and disquietudes,
    but only
          from a certain loathing 
               of I know not what, and
    my soul finds pleasure in nothing.

18. I used to try exterior good works,
    in order to occupy myself
            partly by violence;

    and I know well how weak a soul is 
           when grace is hiding itself.

It did not distress me much,
     because the sight of my own meanness
  gave me some satisfaction.

On other occasions, I find myself unable 
      to pray or 
      to fix my thoughts with
           - any distinctness  upon God, or
           - anything that is good, 
      though I may be alone;

      but I have a sense that I know Him.


   It is
              the understanding and
              the imagination, I believe,
         which hurt me here;
    for it seems to me
          that I have a good will, 
              disposed for all good;

     but the understanding is so lost,
       that it seems to be nothing else
           but a raving lunatic,
       which nobody can restrain, and of
       which I am not mistress enough
           to keep it quiet for a minute. [457]

19. Sometimes I
        laugh at myself, and
        recognize my wretchedness:

     I watch my understanding, and 
        leave it alone to see what it will do.

     Glory be to God,

     for a wonder,
           it never runs on what is wrong,
       but only on indifferent things,
       considering what is going on
           here, or there, or elsewhere.

I see then, more and more,
    the exceeding great mercy of our Lord
           to me,
    when He keeps this lunatic bound 
           in the chains 
           of perfect contemplation.

I wonder what would happen
     if those people who think I am good
          knew of my extravagance.

I am very sorry
     when I see my soul in such bad company;
I long to see it delivered therefrom,

and so I say to our Lord:
     When, O my God,
         shall I see my whole soul praising Thee,
     that it may have the fruition of  Thee
         in all its faculties?

  Let me be no longer, O Lord, thus
     torn to pieces,
         and every one of them, as it were,
     running in a different direction.

 This has been often the case with me,
     but I think that my scanty bodily health
        was now and then
     enough to bring it about.

20. I dwell much on the harm
           which original sin has done us;
 that is, I believe,
    what has rendered us incapable
        of the fruition of so great a good.

My sins, too, must be in fault;
for, if I had not committed so many,
     I should have been
        more perfect in goodness.

Another great affliction
          which I suffered was this:

     all the books which I read
            on the subject of prayer,
     I thought
            I understood thoroughly, and
            that I required them no longer,
     because our Lord had given me 
             the gift of prayer.

      I therefore ceased to read those books,
      and applied myself to lives of Saints,
        thinking that this would
           improve me and
           give me courage;
        for I found myself very defective 
           in every kind of service
         which the Saints rendered unto God.

      Then it struck me
          that I had very little humility, 
      when I could think 
          that I had attained 
              to this degree of prayer;

       and so, when I could not come
           to any other conclusion,
        I was greatly distressed,
           until certain learned persons,
       and the blessed friar, Peter of Alcantara,
           told me not to trouble myself
       about the matter.

21. I see clearly enough
that I have not yet begun to serve God,

      though He showers down upon me 
          those very graces
      which He gives to many good people.

I am a mass of imperfection,
    except in desire and in love;

for herein I see well
    that our Lord has been gracious to me,
in order that I may please Him
    in some measure.

I really think that I love Him; 
    but 
             my conduct, and
             the many imperfections 
                    I discern in myself,
       make me sad.

22. My soul, also, is subject occasionally
           to a certain foolishness,
                --that is the right name to give it--
        when I seem to be doing
            neither good nor evil,
        but following in the wake of others,
                      as they say,
                without pain or pleasure,
                indifferent to
                      life and death,
                      pleasure and pain.

I seem to have no feeling.
The soul seems to me like a little ass,
     which feeds and thrives,
   because it
      accepts the food which is given it, and
      eats it without reflection.

The soul in this state must be feeding 
      on some great mercies of God,
  seeing
       that its miserable life
                  is no burden to it, and
       that it bears it patiently
  but it is conscious  of no sensible 
                  movements or results, 
     whereby it may ascertain the state 
                  it is in.

23. It seems to me now
          like sailing with a very gentle wind,
   when one makes much way 
          without knowing how;

for in the other states,
          so great are the effects,
   that the soul sees almost at once 
          an improvement in itself,
   because the desires instantly are on fire,
         and the soul is never satisfied.

      This comes
       from those great impetuosities of love,
               spoken of before, [458]
        in those to whom God grants them.

        It is like those little wells
             I have seen flowing,
        wherein the upheaving of the sand
             never ceases.

This illustration and comparison seem to me
    to be a true description of those souls
who attain to this state;

    their love is ever active,
       thinking what it may do;
    it cannot contain itself,
       as the water remains not in the earth,
    but is continually welling upwards.

   So is the soul, in general;
   it is not at rest,
       nor can it contain itself, 
    because of the love it has:

    it is so saturated therewith,
        that it would have others drink of it,
    because there is more than
        enough for itself,
     in order that they might help it
         to praise God.

24. I call to remembrance
                  --oh, how often!--
   that living water
      of which our Lord spoke
             to the Samaritan woman.

   That Gospel [459] has a great attraction
       for me;   and, indeed,
    so it had even when I was a little child,
       though I did not understand it then
     as I do now.

  I used to pray much to our Lord 
     for that living water; and

  I had always a picture of it,
     representing our Lord at the well,
  with this inscription,
    "Domine, da mihi aquam." [460]

25. This love is also like a great fire,
   which requires fuel continually,
      in order that it may not burn out.

So those souls I am speaking of,
         however much it may cost them,
   will always bring fuel,
         in order that the fire
    may not be quenched.

As for me, I should be glad,
     considering what I am,
if I had but straw even to throw upon it.

And so it is with me occasionally
    --and, indeed, very often.

At one time, I laugh at myself; and
at another, I am very much distressed.

The inward stirring of my love 
       urges me to do something 
  for the service of God;

  and I am not able to do more than
       adorn images with boughs and flowers,
       clean or arrange an oratory,
       or some such trifling acts,
     so that I am ashamed of myself.

If I undertook any penitential practice,
      the whole
         was so slight, and
         was done in such a way,
    that if our Lord did not accept 
          my good will,
     I saw it was all worthless,
          and so I laughed at myself.

The failure of bodily strength, 
    sufficient to do something for God,
  is no light affliction for those souls
    to whom He, in His goodness,
          has communicated this fire
    of His love in its fulness.

It is a very good penance;
  for when souls are not strong enough
    to heap fuel on this fire,
     and die of fear that the fire may go out,
   it seems to me
      that they become fuel themselves, are
            reduced to ashes, or
            dissolved in tears, and
            burn away:
       and this is suffering enough,
            though it be sweet.

26. Let him, then,
          praise our Lord exceedingly,
      who has attained to this state;
      who has received the bodily strength
          requisite for penance;
      who has learning, ability, and power
          to preach,
          to hear confessions, and
          to draw souls unto God.

 Such a one
   neither knows nor comprehends
       the blessing he possesses,
   unless he knows by experience 
      what it is to be powerless 
             to serve God in anything, 
       and at the same time 
             to be receiving much from Him.

May He be blessed for ever, and
May the angels glorify Him!
Amen.

27. I know not if I do well
     to write so much in detail.
But as you, my father, bade me again
    not to be troubled
         by the minuteness of my account,
    nor to omit anything,
         I go on recounting clearly and truly
    all I can call to mind.

But I must omit much;
   for if I did not,
      I should have to spend more time
         --and, as I said before, [461]
    I have so little to spend,
         and perhaps, after all,
     nothing will be gained.
________________________________

FootNotes:

[443] [356]Ch. xxvii. §§ 17, 18, 19.

[444] Hoja de lata,
"cierta hoja de hierro muy delgada" (Cobarruvias, Tesoro, in voce).

[445] [357]Ch. xxiv. § 5.
          Dona Guiomar de Ulloa.

[446] [358]Ch. xxvi. § 5.

[447] [359]Ch. vii. § 12.

[448] See [360]ch. xxviii. § 24.

[449] [361]Ch. xxiii. § 7.

[450] A "custody" is a division of the province,
  in the Order of St. Francis,
  comprising a certain number of  convents.

[451] [362] § 10.

[452] Job i.

[453] See [363]ch. xxxii. § 1, &c.

[454] See [364]ch. xxviii. § 6.

[455] See Way of Perfection, ch. lxi. § 2;
  but ch. xxxiv. § 8 of the earlier editions.

[456] [365]ch. xx.    § 21,
          [366]ch. xxv. § 22,
          [367]ch. xxvi. § 3.

[457] "Un Credo."

[458] [368]Ch. xxix. § 11.

[459] St. John iv. 5-42:
  the Gospel of Friday after the Third Sunday in Lent,
  where the words are, "hanc aquam."

[460] "Lord, give me this water"
  (St. John iv. 15).
  See [369]ch. i. § 6; and
  Way of Perfection, ch. xxix. § 5;
   ch. xix. § 5 of the earlier editions.

[461] [370]Ch. xiv. § 12.
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