THE FLAMING HART OR THE LIFE OF THE GLORIOUS S. TERESA, Foundress of the Reformation, of the Order of the All-Immaculate Virgin-Mother, our B. Lady, of Mount-Carmel.  
This History of her Life, was written by the Saint herself, in Spanish; and is newly, now, Translated into English, in the year of our Lord God, 1642.  
Aut mori, aut pati. Either to die, or else to suffer.  Chap. 40. 
ANTWERP Printed by JOHANNES MEURSIUS. ANNO M. DC. XLII.   

TO THE INCOMPARABLE, SOVEREIGN PRINCESS, HENRIETTA-MARIA OF FRANCE, QVEEN OF GREAT BRITAIN, FRANCE, AND IRLAND.  
MADAM  
I Presume not now, to approach to your Majesty's presence, with design to beg your Favours, (though this, use to be the case of every Creature) but to pay your Majesty a Service, and that, a great one, for the many Princely benefits, which I have received already, from your gracious hand. For here, I come to offer your Majesty a means, of magnifying your own natural greatness, by your avowing, & protecting, and enlargeing the glory of an incomparable Saint, S. Teresa. To whom, as I have well understood that already, you carry an extraordinary devotion; and not only devotion to herself, but affection also, to the holy Religious women of her Angelical Order; whereof, the English Nation (which now enjoys the honour, to be also, yours) hath a Monastery at Antwerp, which needs not, perhaps, be ashamed, to appear near any other of the whole world, whether it be, for their great, & entire contentment in Recollection; their insatiable, yet most delightful thirst, after Perfection, & Union with our Blessed Lord; or the everlasting Feast, of Joy, & jubily, which they solemnize, both in the hearty, & high respects, which they carry to their Reverend Mother Superior, and their true, & most tender love, to one another: so, it will not be unworthy, either of your own greatness, or goodness, that, when there is question of considering the virtues, & perfections of the Glorious S. Teresa, and the celebrating her praises, and the studying her Life, (I mean that Life of hers, which she written, with that most holy, & wise hand of her own, which I here present) your Majesty vouchsafe to march at the very head of that whole Troop, which may address itself, to the imitation of her Heroical actions, and to the admiration of those incomparable Graces, and Favours, which the God of Heaven, and Earth, thought fit to infuse, with his enamoured hart, and omnipotent hand, into that most happy Soul. For, who can ever, be more fit, to patronise so great a Saint, as she is, than so great a Queen, as your Majesty; who, besides your Birth, and renown, whereof (to speak after the manner of men) you have so much occasion to brag, have also (in order to Heaven) shown such constancy, in the way of Religion, and piety, as may justly, (all things considered) give cause to the rest of your own most eminent Rank, at least, to shrink, if not to blush. For myself, to beg your Majesty's pardon, for this appearance of presumption, were now, to acknowledge some such fault, as whereof, I acquitted myself, before. I will therefore, rather by this means, hope to obtain a Suit for this Service; yea and that, of the most savoury kind, of all other; & it is, That you will vouchsafe to employ the Sacrifice of my whole Life, in obedience to any of your Majesty's least commands. God make, & keep your Majesty, as healthy, & as happy, as this world can tell how to wish; yea, and as the other, can tell how to grant; & I most humbly ask leave, to do your Majesty all Reverence, at your Royal Feet.  
Your Majesty's most humble, most obedient, most devoted, & most obliged Servant M. T.   

A word of Advertisement to the Reader.  
TO the end, that the Reader's judgement may be kept from any considerable error, concerning the person of the Glorious S. Teresa, he is humbly, and earnestly desired, to read the Preface, before he read the Book; and especially, that part thereof, which occurrs between that §. which begins, with these following words, For she will tell you, etc. And that other which begins, But now it will come fitly in, etc.  
He may also be pleased, to excuse the few Faults, which shall be found, in the Print; the rather, because it was performed, both in a strange Country, and by strangers.   

THE PREFACE, OF THE TRANSLATOR, TO THE CHRISTIAN, AND CIVIL READER.  
I Was moved (and who would not be moved?) by the Reverend Mother Superior of the English Teresian-Carmelites, at Ant werpe, & the rest of that holy Assembly, to Translate, out of Spanish, into English, the Life of the Admirable, and Blessed Woman, S. Teresa, their holy Mother, and mine; whose Excellencies, and Perfections, it is hard, for any Pen, to express; and few Hearts, even of the most refined, and raised, can fully understand, and comprehend. For, though it were translated long ago, by an eminent, and worthy Man of our Nation, in the great devotion, which he carried to his excellent Saint; yet he had lived, so very long, out of his Count●●; and had attended, in so serious a manner, to the acquiring of Perfection, and Knowledge, in order to the Conversion of Souls, that, on the one side, he seemed to have lost a little of the purity of his own English Tongue, and, on the other, not to have acquired enough of the Spanish; and consequently, not to have been able, to perform the Work, so exactly, as he desired. Since, such a Book, as was so sublimely conceived, by such a Hart, and so vehemently posted-out, by such a Pen, could never be exactly translated, out of any one Language, into an other, without a kind of full possession of them both; besides a great attention, & application of mind, otherwise. Some places being therefore very obscure, and many other, more than a little, misunderstood, the Book was not so well received, nor so gladly, & greedily read, as it deserved. And therefore, both in honour of their renowned, and admired Parent, & in appetite also of their own consolation, and perfection in Spirit, the zeal of these holy Religious women could not content itself with less, than a procuring, to get a new Translation made, which perhaps might prove, (to their thinkeing) a little less imperfect, than the other.  
For my part, I confess, I wonder, that some such Review, and Reformation, concerning a Public Work, so much importing the glory of Almighty God, and the honour of so eminent a Saint, could be forborn so long. But even that very conceit, and consideration, did help to clap the Spurs into my Sides, towards a running through this Course, and Carreire, with all the care, & speed, which I could possibly use.  
And heerin, though my abilities were small, yet my attention grew to be great; and so I considered several Copies, and took also many opinions, and yet found, that all my diligences were few enough, towards the discharge of the multitude of doubts, and difficultyes, which occurred; Partly, through the high, and abstracted Nature of the very Contents of the Book; Partly, through the great length of the Periods; Partly through the multitude, sometimes, of Parenthesis, even in the same sentence; Partly, through her forbearing to use those Particles, in the beginning of the said Sentences; as namely, For, But, Yet, Therefore, and the like; without which, it is not always so easy to discern, whether the Discourse be either continued, or interrupted or ended; and partly, & chiefly, by the ill printing, and worse pointing, of all the Spanish Copies, which I could ever come to see. All which, I am feign to allege, by way of an humble excuse, for whatsoever error, I may have involuntarilie committed, in this case. But howsoever, I here present it, to the glory of Almighty God; to the praise of this Excellent Saint; and to the consolation of these Children of hers, who are no less, than a kind of counterpoise, to the misery of the times, wherein we live.  
But now, as soon as I had translated the Work, a certain wise, & worthy man, & my friend, took knowledge of it, and desired me, by a very earnest letter of his, to usher this Book into the world, with a Preface of mine own; which might open the Readers eye, the more easily to behold the Saint, when she followed; and so also, to give some notice of her Children, who are following her. And though I alleged my reasons, why this might be less necessarily done, yet still, he urged me to it; and so, I made his Will mine own, and accordingly, shall speak a few of my thoughts.  
I say, some few of my thoughts; For, whosoever hath studied the person of the Glorious S. Teresa, well, will find so much to say, as, if he have a mind to say all, he may do well not to begin, since it will never be in his power, to make an end; such a full sea, is this excellent Saint, of all perfection, which hath neither Bottom, nor Brim. I will therefore, say very little of her here; and that, shall chiefly tend, to let you see, how highly this Life, (which was written by the Saint herself) is authorised, and how punctually it deserves to be believed, forasmuch as may, any way, concern the truth of the Historical part thereof, as also the excellency of the Order, which she both Reform, and Erected.  
But for the present, you may first be pleased to consider, that we find the Lives of Saints, to be written, by three several kinds of persons. For, some are delivered by men, who are only eminent, in the Historical way; and they, deserve to be esteemed, and believed, for the merit of that worth, which shall appear, whatsoever it fallout to be.  
The second sort, is, when the Writers, are not only worthy Men, but are withal, so great Servants of Almighty God, as to be acknowledged, by the Christian world, for Saints; as S. Athanasius, who written the Life of S. Anthony; S. Epiphanius, of several Prophets; S. Hierome, of S. Paul, and S. Hilarion, both of them, Heremits; S. Gregory the Great, of S. Bennet; S. Bonaventure, of the Humble, and Admired S. Francis; and the like; who deserve a far higher credit, than the former; in regard, that the writers were Saints.  
The Third is, when Saints themselves write their own Lives; as the Incomparable S. Augustin did a great part of his, in the Divine Book of his Confessions; upon the excess, & admiration, wherein he was, at the unspeakable Mercy of Almighty God, for removing all the miseries of his Soul. And the Relations of such Lives, as these, are, incomparably, of the most credit of all. For first, no body knows so well, what passes concerning a man, as himself; And Saints are very far, from saying any thing, which is not exactly true; and especially, if the Saints be such, as that they be also endued with very great natural parts, of Wit, and Memory, and judgement, forasmuch as concerns the Brain, or Understanding; as they will be sure to be with Truth, and Sincerity, & Candour, forasmuch as may concern the Hart, or Will. For, as these Moral parts will keep them from deceiving others: so, the Intellectual, will secure them, from being deceived themselves; and will make them define, and divide, and suspect, and doubt, and ask, before they fully resolve, to believe; & much more, before they will publish things, to the world.  
And now, as the Incomparable S. Augustin, was called, by the consideration of his own great Sins, and God's greater Mercies, to declare his Life, in the never enough admired Book of his Confessions: so also, did the Glorious S. Teresa, the self same thing, in effect, in this Book; but, by direction of her Ghostly Father. Not yet, that he did so much, as incline her to publish her own imperfections, and sins, (nay rather, he did the direct contrary) but only to declare her Form of Prayer; together with the Favours, which our Lord imparted, to her, therein. But now she, upon that occasion, would needs make her own Process, in view of the World; & show (as incident to the rest) how ill, she had complied with Almighty God, from time, to time. And by this means, doth she, in effect, wove that great piece, of rich Cloth-of-gold, and Tislue, which concerns, almost, the History of her whole Life; and now, the same is hungout abroad, to the view of the world.  
But yet, amongst all the excellencies thereof, there is one thing, which displeases many worthy, wise, & holy men; or at least, which pleases them less, than the rest. And it is, that whensoever there is any question at all, of herself, (in order, either to Virtue, or Vice,) she would never trust her own eyes, though they were so clear, and good, as the world knows; but she resolved, to work with Perspective-glasses, of different, yea, & even contrary kinds. For, when she described her Virtues; she served herself, of a Diminishing-glasse; which made them seem so little, as to be no more, than a kind of Nothing. But, on the other side, when she gave account of her Imperfections, she would, by no means, know them, by any other name, then of Vices, and Sins; because she took a Multiplying-glass, to herself; for fear, lest else, those Molehills should not seem Mountains.  
Now, in the strength of this wel-meaning, and holy kind of error, which she incurred (if any error may well deserve so indulgent a name) she gave herself too great scope (if the Reader, would needs take her at her word) to violate her own excellent fame, by certain too venturous dashes of her pen, which was driven too too hastily on, by the impulse of a kind of inordinate Humility. In such sort, as that, if a body were disposed, to trust his eyes alone, without his reason, he might be easily drawn, to pass a very erroneous judgement, upon her Soul.  
For, she will tell you, in twenty places of this Book, What a grievous Sinner she was; What a multitude of great sins, she had (in her conceit) committed; How many years, she had continued, in that dangerous state; And, in fine, how she conceived, that her proper place, and particular torments, were prepared, for her, in Hell itself, for the everlasting punishment of her Sins; which (she faith) she felt in Spirit. Whereas yet, in reality, and sincerity of truth, it may be clear enough, (to such as will unpartially consider, what they are to judge; and not look through the mist, or cloud, of that too great insatisfaction, and severity, which she would be sure to carry towards herself) that she was always far, from committing any Mortal Sin, in all the course of her Life.  
Now, the difference, in point of judgement, between our Saint, and others, may well seem to have proceeded from this occasion, which follows. They looked upon her whole life, with the eyes of a Religious kind of reason; And she, with those, even of a kind of inordinate passion, (as a man may say) of devotion. They, looked upon her, as men, who being informed, even by herself, of the Case, are most fit, through their indifferency, to be the judge; Whereas she, looked upon herself, as a mere Party; who must not, in her own Case, be trusted, by any means, so well, as her judge; especially, when that judge, knows all things, as well as herself, since she declares them to him. Besides, that she expresses clearly, how divers, who were her Ghostly Fathers, at the times of her greatest imperfection, declared to her, in very positive terms, that she was far, from commiting Mortal Sinne. And note, that they passed such a judgement upon her, at times, when herself professes, that she Confessed all her Sins so entirely, as not to omit so much, as even all those Venial Sins, upon which she could reflect. So that clearly, by the very worst of her case, if any such thing, as she had ever done, were doubtful; & if her Ghostly Fathers assured her then, that it was not Mortal, (as indeed, they did) what reason could she have, to be so very highly, and irreconciliably unsatisfyed with herself? But the truth is, she pierced so deeply, by means of Celestial grace, into that endless, spotless Mine, of the Purity of Almighty God, and the unlimited excellenty of his High Majesty, and the unspeakable deformity of the least Imperfection, or frailty, when once it should be brought to appear, before that incomparable clarity, of the King of Glory; And, on the other side, she was endued, with such a strange, internal kind of knowledge of herself, that it made (as I was saying before) those Moats of her Imperfections, seem Mountains, when once, they were to appear, as in God's presence.  
She was also of so very sensible a nature (which I must needs touch again afterwards) and so easily obliged, and so inseparably engaged, upon the receiving, even of poor, weak, little services, from mortal Creatures; & much more, when Celestial Favours distilled down, so very fast, towards her, from that neverfailing Fountain of Divine Mercies; that, for her, to find herself any way ungrateful, yea or so much as even unmindful thereof; and yet, much more, if she should prove so inhumanly unkind, as, in stead of paying services, to commit faults (how light soever they might be) such errors would seem, in those eyes of hers, (which still, were fed, from that inflamed hart) to be really, not very much less, than almost, as so many half Sins, against the holy-ghost. And from this composition of her Mind, (both in the Natural, and Supernatural way) did grow those profound detestations of herself; those high exaggerations, of her Imperfections, and Frailties; those lowde exclamations, against her supposed ingratitudes, and unkindnesses, towards Almighty God, which broke (as it were) even her own very hart, whilst she was thinking; and delivered over, such feeling arguments of her sad remorse, whilst she was writing, as are able, to strike the water of tears, out of the stony hearts of her Readers (like the Rod of Moses, which drove water out of the Rock) when once, they lend their sight, though never so little, to behold that sweet Object, of her enamoured thoughts, and expostulations against herself.  
From hence it is, I say, that she accused herself, after a kind of obstinate manner, whensoever she reflected upon God, & herself; in order to his Bounties, on the one side, & her discorrespondences, on the other. Whilst yet, when her thoughts were bend, but to express the plain order of things, after a manner merely abstracted, from those superior Considerations, she delivers such truths, concerning herself, as makes all these imputations, which fell so fiercely upon her Soul, out of her own mouth, appear, to be far different, from that, which she would desire, that they might be thought. And so, in conformity with this, you (my Reader) shall do well, to consider, in serious manner, how she, who spoke, after a sort, erroneously, (when she would partially judge of her actions, in order to the spotless Purity of Almighty God, and his strict judgement) did yet unfold herself, most literally truly, when she expressed herself Viâ facti, and related her affections, and actions, as it were, in the Historical way.  
Observe therefore, how, in this way, she saith of herself, That she was ever 
Cap. 4.  very careful, not to commit any Mortal Sin; That she had great care of her Conscience, still, forasmuch as concerned any thing of that kind; and that, if ever she would be so unhappy, as to commit any such sin, that she should never be in quiet, till she was disburdened of it; That she seldom received the B. Sacrament, 
Cap. 5.  but with abundance of tears; That, after she had once tasted of the Regalo's of that Celestial Banquet, (which she began to do, when she was young) she never omitted to Confess any thing, which she might conceive to be a Sin, though it were but Venial; That she had ever great remorse, 
Cap. 2.  whensoever she committed any offence, against Almighty God; That she did naturally detest all dishonesty; and that she conceived not, that there was, either any occasion, or any person, in the whole world, who could possibly overcome that resolution, in her; That, difficulties grew afterwards upon her, by occasion of some Conversations, which she had; whereof yet, she Confessing herself, by way of doubt (as I have insinuated before) her Ghostly Father made her know, that she did not offend God, therein. For, the truth of the case, was this: She was then, a Secular woman; and the inclinations, which she had to the person, were capable of being concluded, in a Marriage; besides, that really, on her part, there was never so much, as one impure thought; That another Spiritual 
Cap. 8.  man, with whom she also consulted shortly after, about matter of her Soul, (by occasion of some fears, into which she grew then, to fall) declared to her, that, though she were in the state of never so high Contemplation, yet such conferences, and conversations, as those, were not to be inconvenient, for her; That she also understood by others, of like condition, that the conversations, which she used, and the contentments, which she took, were lawful; That she 
Cap. 7.  conceived not herself, to be in Mortal Sin; for, if she had known any such thing of herself, she would never have endured it; That she was ever a great 
Cap. 6.  enemy, to detraction; yea and that the world was ever safe in that kind, when she was present; for, every body, who knew her, knew also, that she would not, so much, as endure, that this Sin should ever be committed, in her hearing; That she was never, any way, subject to 
Cap. 22.  Envy; And that she had also, never observed herself, to offend Almighty God, either by Hypocrisy, or even so much, as Vainglory; That she always stuck, so very fast, to the truth of Holy Scripture, and even to the least Ceremony of the Holy Catholic Church, that rather than believe otherwise, she would endure a thousand deaths; That she was not cordially addicted, to any thing, but to serve, and please our Blessed Lord; And that, in fine, the whole world, seemed to her, to be no better, than a very Hill of Ants.  
Now, this was the very truth of the Case; and this was the state of our Saint's Soul, from the first, to the last. And yet, upon the considerations, which I touched before, this Blessed, and Heavenly Creature (I say, Heavenly, even whilst she was yet, upon Earth) would needs conceive herself, once, in Prayer, not only to see, but even to feel herself, to be in those very torments of Hell, which she held herself (as hath been said) to have deserved, for her sins; and which, indeed, would have been literally, and finally true, if our Lord had not prevented her, and accompanied her, and conducted her, by his Holy Spirit, and Heavenly grace; without which, what living Creature can be safe? But that, otherwise, she had actually committed such sins, as for which, hose eternal torments might be, indeed, deserved, seems to be but an ungrounded, and unsound opinion, in reality of truth. For, the constant excellency of her Life, was such, as that, she began, at the first, where others might be glad, to end it; (namely, with fervent, and inflamed desires of Martyrdom, even when she was scarce eight years old) and both continued, & finished the same, afterward, in such virtue, and express sanctity, of the highest kind, as that the world, may be rather willing, then able, to admire it, to such a proportion, as it deserves. And therefore, that conceit of her great Sins, and of her deserved place also, in Hell, seems partly to have had the true foundation, upon the jealous, and solicitous, and curious, enamoured, and inflamed Affections, of the faithful, watchful, loyal, laborious thoughts, of our Glorious Saint; which tended, almost ever, towards a complying, in most perfect manner, with the duties, to which she held that she was liable, in herself; and with the Inspirations, by which she was so constantly solicited, and called upon, and, as it were, even Courted, by the powerful, and precious hart, of our Blessed Lord; and partly, yea and peradventure chiefly, by the ill quarter, which she conceived, and acknowledged herself, to have kept sometimes, with our Blessed Lord, by not corresponding with his heavenly grace, and not complying, with his holy Inspirations; and commiting some neglects in that kind; whilst yet she was so enarnestly moved, by his Divine Majesty, to give-over certain natural affections, and recreations, of hers. In regard of which unkindness towards Almighty God, she might have congruously deserved, to be deprived of God's grace afterwards; and then she might also have fall'n, by degrees, not only into greater faults, but even into grievous Sins, which might truly have been then ascribed, to her former, lesser offences. And so it was merely, the unspeakable goodness of Almighty God, and no merit of hers, that she was not permitted to fall, by degrees, even as low as Hell itself, Like a man, who, in a small distemper of body, neglects the help of Physicians, and grows thereby afterward, into mortal diseases & death.  
Now therefore, in all such things, as might concern the estimation, which she made of herself, in order, either to the excellency, or deformity, of her life, there is (and let the Glorious Saint forgive me this error, once, of speaking truth) no credit at all, to be given her; because that subject, lies but in the way of discourse; & all things in effect, of that nature, use to be just, of that very colour, whereof those Glasses be, through which they are seen; and I have already showed, that hers, were of the partial Cutt. But as for those other things, which occurred to be set down, by her, in the Historical way, or else, which are related, as happening to the person of the writer, in the way of fact, whether it were more or less; as namely, that she did, and suffered, and said, and heard, and felt, & saw, whatsoever she affirmed, in those kinds, whether it were in the Natural, or Supernatural way, there can be no question made, as I have showed else where, but that all, was most certainly, & even most punctually true. For else, she either must deceive, or be deceived; whereof the former were a great impiety; (but far enough from her) & the latter (all circumstances considered, and especially, in parriculars of that nature) no less, than a most impertinent absurdity, to be either affirmed, or believed; as was partly touched before.  
It is true, that both in her Supernatural Prayer, and yet more, in her Visions, and Revelations, there are many things, which surpass any Understanding, which is but merely Humane; but so also, are there in finite other Particulars, in the Ecclesiastical History, concerning other Saints, which, howsoever they seem, and are strange, yea and much more strange than these, yet are they generally, and most justly admitted, to the degree of Moral belief. For, as we Catholics, are instructed, & taught, that, on the one side, we must not be so light, or rather in fine (to the end, that things, may have their right names) not so very weak, and foolish, as to believe strange, and supernatural things, without a mighty deal of authority, and proof, (
* Note this great, & most certain Truth.  yea and the Church herself, doth most bitterly Excommunicate, whatsoever Creature in the world, who shall knowingly propound any false thing of this kind, to be believed) so on the other side, that they, are most justly to be held, both rash, and childish, and foolish, who believe not that, which multitudes of the most, and wisest, and worthiest, and learnedst, and holiest men believe. Though yet still, in all these Cases (wherein the Church hath not expressly declared herself) we are not, to believe things, with Divine Faith, but only with a Moral, & humane belief; no, nor even so much as that, but only, when they are so abundantly proved to be true, as that they can not rationally, be denied, or even doubted, by any prudent, pious man. For, to resolve to believe nothing at all, which is elevated above the ordinary course of natural things, or which surpass a man's own capacity, and his explicit, and deciding judgement, at the present time, is not only (as I was saying) a very foolish, but even a childish, and ridiculous kind of thing.  
I must here, put you also in mind, how, particularly, it is found in Holy scripture, that there are innumerable instances (and especially, in the Revelations, of the Blessed, and Beloved Apostle, S. john) which are incomparably more repugnant, both to reason, and even to Common sense, than any thing, which is related here. And as, (how difficult and strange soever, those things of holy Scripture be) they must yet, be as entirely believed (and that, upon the price, of a man's being otherwise, an Heretic, or a very Pagan) as the Blessed Trinity itself; because, in fine, the least tittle of Holy Scripture, is as fully, and entirely, to be believed, as the very Divinity itself, of Almighty God; since the very lest, and lowest point of our Faith, depends upon the self same formal reason, and ground, with the highest, & greatest: So also, whosoever shall not receive, whatsoever is delivered, by the Saints, and great Servants of Almighty God, concerning such things, as pass in their own Souls, through the intercourse, and commerce of his Divine Majesty (cuius deliciae, are, to be, cum filiis hominum; whose delight consists, in visiting, and regaling the Souls of his dearest, and most devoted Servants) the same being considered, by holy, and wise & learned Discerners, and Tryers, and judges of Spirit, (whereof there is never want, in God's Church) and so, the Catholic Christian World, growing by degrees, to accept thereof, in the way of giving a just admittance, & a pious Moral credit to what is related, that man, I say, shall be neither pious, nor prudent, who rejects it; and he shall be an ignorant fool, if he deride it.  
Nor is also any of my Readers, to be scandalised a whitt, if he chance to hear Saints speak, of some material and corporeal kinds of things, which are represented to them, in their Visions; as namely Rings, or Crowns, or Chains, or Mantles, or Darts, or the like (whereof there is some little mention, even in this Book) any more, than he hath cause to be scandalised, at the Horses, & Riders, and Trumpets, and Seals, and Precious Stones, wherewith the Celestial jerusalem was paved, in the Revelation of S. john. For, though I say not, that he is necessarily bound, in the quality of a good Catholic Christian, to believe the Particulars, which are represented in this Book, after any gross material way, with the same kind of infallible, Supernatural Faith, which he is strictly, and precisely obliged to allow, to all things, which are contained in Holy Scripture (upon the price, as I was saying) of being otherwise, an Heretic, or a Pagan) yet I presume to say (and it seems to be most true, and certain) that when such particular Supernatural Favours, as aforesaid, are vouchsafed by Almighty God, to his Saints, and are also admitted, and embraced, by multitudes of the learnedst, and wisest, and holiest persons of the world, that man will be neither holy, no nor so much as learned, or wise, who not only shall reject that, which he hath no will to approve, but deride also that, which he hath not wit, or grace; to understand. In a word, the Visions expressed in Holy Scripture, must be all believed, by Divine Faith, in their true sense, whatsoever that falls out to be; and not the Visions of Saints, with that, but with a far inferior kind of Faith; till the Holy Catholic Church, both have defined them, and propounded them also, to be believed, by her Children.  
Nor yet are you, my Reader, whosoever you may be, to be idly scandalised, by any means, at the Forms, whereby things are represented sometimes, in the Visions, and Revelations of Saints; and this, upon another, and that a very substantial reason, which follows here. For, the important business, in those cases, is, that our Blessed Lord, is pleased to imprint, at such, and such times, upon the Souls of such, and such of his dear Servants, such, or such a kind of virtue, or Favour, or Strength, as himself is pleased to design, for the comfort, progress, and perfection, of that Servant of his. And so, that Servant, consisting both of a Body, and a Soul, his Divine Majesty is also graciously pleased, many times, to affect both the Body, and the Soul, together, with a sensible kind of feeling of that grace; Those outward demonstrations (which speak, but, as it were, to the Body) serving chiefly, but to denote, and describe, in that sort, to the whole man, the influences, and impressions, which then are made, and poured out, into the Soul.  
But now it will come fitly in, ere long, to show you that part of the Epistle Dedicatory, or Preface, which the Famous Dominican Father, & Doctor, Father Lewis de Leon, thought fit to write, both in honour of S. Teresa herself, & of those Primitive Daughters also of hers, who were first Founded at Madrid. For thereby, you will easily discern, what a Race, that Glorious Saint had run (even like some Gyantesse) in the way of our B. Lord; as also how close, those Children followed their holy Mother. Of which Mother, I shall not here, have room to reflect, though I should but touch, & go; unless withal, I would make this Preface, as long as the very Life itself. And therefore, you must give me leave, to adjourn you, for more ample satisfaction of this expectation, to those drops, which I may, perhaps, both be able, and willing to derive, and draw, out of that Sea of her Perfections, if I shall finish another small Discourse, and Description of the Saint, which I intent to make, and place, as by way of Preface, both to certain Exclamations, or loud Aspirations, whereby that enamoured Soul of hers, found means to vent itself to Almighty God; as also, to two short Relations, which she made for her Ghostly Father, in writing, concerning the Degrees, by which, she passed on, in the exercise of virtue, and in the use also of Prayer, that so, the said Ghostly Father, might be the abler to direct, & instruct her. In the mean time, I shall only say, in very few words (by way, as it were, of Antepast, till the Feast come in) That she was Of very ancient, noble Birth; Of choice Breeding; Of a gracious, & lovely person; Of an humour, highly acceptable, and agreeable, to the whole world, which knew her; Of a melting, and bleeding Nature; Of most Loyal, true, & tender Friendship; Of a sweet, & charming way, in conservation; Of great significancy, and elegancy of speech in her expression, though natural, and round, and without affectation; & in particular, her Talon was rare, in abounding with the choicest Comparisons, which can be found. Her felicity was also great, in negotiation; for she was owner of a solid wit; a steady, & sound judgement; and deep wisdom. She had a hart, as open as day, in the exercise of bounty; Her compassion was most eminent, to wards the relief of all Creatures in misery; & so especially, was her solicitude, to consolate, & regale all such, in all occasions, as were entrusted to her care; whilst yet she would needs be unkind, and even, as it were, cruel, to herself alone.  
Above all things, she was a most perfect Lover of Truth, & so full of matchless candour, & sincerity, in all expressions, & upon all occasions, that she would no more have even so much, as but disguised it, and much less varied from it, in the least kind, (especially, when the question had, any way, concerned her own advantage) than she would have sold herself, for a Slave.  
These, I say, were the conditions of this admirable Creature; and these, were the parts of her Mind, which yet I consider, but in the nature of Fruits. But they grew, from these Roots which follow; A most profound Humility; A most inviolable Chastity; A most strict love of Poverty; A most vnshaken, and invincible Patience; in despite of sharp Sicknesses, tormenting pains, and endless persecutions: A most ardent, and inflamed Charity, both towards God, & man; which bred an eager, and insatiable appetite, to win Souls; An undaunted Fortitude, & high Courage, and that, no less, in the endeavouring great things, then in the suffering hard things; A constant, continual, Supernatural, & most Elevated course of Prayer, and Contemplation.  
Such a kind of excellent Creature was this. But yet, when I overlooked the little, which I had here set down, I confess, it seemed, at the first, euen in mine own eye, to be a very extraordinary Elogium, of her Virtues, and parts; and, as if it might, perhaps, have had more in it, of the Panegyrics, then of a just Praise. And therefore, before I would give it passage to the Print, I looked attentively back, upon what I had read of her, concerning her resolutions, and heroical actions, recorded in authentical manner, by divers grave, and wise Authors; and in several places also of her own Works; and particularly, upon what is delivered, by Father Ribera, in the Historical Relation of her whole Life. But when I came back from thence, & compared that kind of Descant, with my Plainsong, concerning the Saint, I found myself to have rather fall'n much too short, then to have, any way, overshort, in this kind; and that the particulars, recounted with great authority, else where, for the proof of how she professed herself, after a high, & most Heroical manner, in the practice, & pursuit of Virtue, in order to all sanctity, & perfection, to which she aspired, & where, by God's great mercy, she arrived, would have no less avowed, then encouraged my Pen, to have done her much more honour, (that is more right) if it had not been employed, by so weak a hand, as mine. But, in the mean time, I have considered the Example of the holy S. Hierome; who writing of his S. Paula, to Eustochium her Daughter, hath these words. I take jesus, and his Saints to witness, as also, that particular Angel, who was the Guardian, and Companion of this admirable woman, That I will say nothing of her, for favour; nothing after the custom of Flatterers; but that whatsoever I am to deliaer, shall be, as if it were upon mine Oath; and yet still, it will fall short of her merits. And now this, shall authorize me also, to take our Blessed Lord to witness, that, to the best of my poor understanding, I have not mistaken myself, about the celebration which here I make of our Saint, in the point of having praised her too much: but rather, that I am grown to be her Debtor, than her Creditor, heerin. For, if ever there have been, in the whole world, many women of more admirable parts, & perfections, both in their Intellectuals, & their Morals, (which I account to be, as the Simples of a Soul) & in the use also thereof, whereby those Simples, grow to be mixed; and whether we shall consider them, in the Natural, or Supernatural way; it is more than I have been able to know, either by reading, or else by Discourse; & yet I have been careful enough, to inquire.  
But now, the certainty of this truth, will yet, even further appear; when I shall tell you that, which follows. And it is, That when the Saint made observation, & had experience of the world's great frailty, and less perfection; and that the Religious Order, and House, where she had entered, had obtained certain Relaxations, and Dispensations, from divers strict Clauses, and Conditions, of the first Institute; and when she had also met with some Customs, through which, even herself had received disadvantage, by dissipation, and diminution of Spirit; as namely, in regard of great, & public resort to the House, and a multitude of unnecessary Conversations; and especially, for that they were not bound to continual Clausure, but had liberty, to go abroad (though yet, only by leave of their Superiors,) to visit their Parents, and near kindred, at some times; she grew into a full resolution, That, if ever it should be in her power, to free herself from that course; and to set more limited bounds upon her ways; and to invite others also, by her example, to express their great desire, to gain, and perfect Souls; she would not fail, to put that purpose of hers, in execution.  
And so, after the expiring of some time, & the encountering of many impediments, and the overcoming a world of difficulties, she grew to express her love, to our B Lord, (but in the person of such Creatures, as for whom he died) to such a proportion, and in so high a kind, as to project, and perfect so great, and hard a work, as that perhaps, no Woman will be seen, to have ever procured, and performed the like. For, to reform a Religious Order, and to reduce it to the first strict Institute, is a matter of much more difficulty, then to Found one. And, for a Woman (who was of no absolute power to command) to pass through so many impediments, and to win the Prize, and to adorn even that Original Rule itself, with so many holy, and wise Documents, and Constitutions of her own, for the raising, and true refining of Spirit, according to the necessities, and exigences of those present, most depraved times, makes the business become yet more hard, and strange, on the one side, and more useful also, & more excellent, on the other. For, as I conceive it to be a truth, that there is no one approved Order of Religious people, in the Holy Catholic Church, which is not of the best of all others, in that way of Spirit, for which it was chiefly instituted by Almighty God; and especially for those times, in which it was instituted: So is it, not only piety, but even prudence also, to believe, that, since this Blessed Woman, was stirred-up by God's holy Spirit, in this Age of ours, for the redress of our modern, great disorders, that his Divine Majesty had a mind to be most particularly served, and glorified by it; and that the Souls, which would consecrate themselves to him therein, might prove to be holy, and happy, in a very eminent degree, as long as they would continue attentive, and careful, not to swerve from that Spirit, which was derived to them, from Heaven, through S. Teresa, by her Prayers, and tears, and other holy means. Which Spirit of hers, though it evidently appear, both by the exercise, and example of all Heroical Virtue, yet particularly, it seems to aim, and point at the regular, and constant use of Recollection, & Mental Prayer; whereof she speaks oftenest, and with most particular desire, and care; and appoints two Hours, to be employed, every day, therein, besides all other Devotions of any kind; which is practised by all her holy Religious, and is really that time, which gives them more abundant joy, than all the rest. And indeed, she takes many occasions, not only to recommend it earnestly, to the Children, and Successors of her own Order, but exhorts also all Creatures, who will have the happiness, to be the true Servants of our Blessed Lord, to take fast hold, by this Anchor, in their Navigation through the Sea of this world. In which Sea, not only they, who are best shipped, but even such others also, as have been cast over board, from Grace, into the storm, and tempest of a Sinful life, may yet, by means of Prayer, prove able, yea and morally certain, through the mercy of Almighty God, to recover the assured Port of Salvation. For, in the judgement of this excellent creature, this point, and practise, of Mental Prayer, is the most sacred, and sovereign help, by way, either of Preseruative before Sin, or yet of remedy, or Restorative, after it, which can possibly be found, or ministered in this world; and indeed a kind of Manna from Heaven, which imparts all kind of Good to the Soul. Good always, in the substantial way; because it always brings increase of grace, & so enables men to win great victories over themselves; where by, they daily grow to be the Servants of Almighty God, more & more. And sometimes also Good, in a way of most sovereign sweetness, beyond any thing, which Flesh, & Blood knows how to imagine. But yet, to make the Soul capable of this last, she must resolve to untie herself wholly, (and it must indeed, be wholly) not only from the firm purpose, of committing any Sin, whether it be great, or small, but even from the very fastening her affections, in any manner of inordinate way, to any Creature of any kind; though yet, it should not be unlawful in itself.  
And a most particular care, must also be taken, by all such, as will follow the footsteps, & directions of this Glorious Saint, (upon which she presses so very often, & so very hard, in twenty places of this excellent Work,) That a Soul which pretends to serve our Blessed Lord, in this kind, as she ought, must resolve, both very faithfully, & very early, to dispose herself to do it, with true, & perfect Liberty of Spirit; that is, with an absolute intention & determination, to do it, merely, because it is the holy Will of our B. Lord; and because he hath made it the means, whereby she may obtain the pardon of her Sins, and acquire all Christian virtue, through increase of Grace; and pay, both frequent, & ardent acts of Homage, & Grief, & Love, to his Divine Majesty; & procure an imitation of those Heroical virtues, which he was pleased to express, in his bitter Passion. And, above all things, the Saint requires us, to take heed of having any mercenary respect at all, to receive gusts, & spiritual delights, or other higher Favours from him, in this Life; but to remit all such things, to the next; and (so that we may ever do him true Service) to leave it, with all indifferency, & conformity to our Blessed Lord, whether he will dispense all his Favours to us, at one payment, in the next world; or else, by parts & portions, in this. And whosoever shall be of a different mind, will not only disoblige the Glorious S. Teresa herself, but may also make this Book, both an unprofitable, & unuseful, yea & even an inconvenient Study for his Soul.  
But (to return to the glorious actions of this Saint) That, besides the instituting, or redressing this Order, (where she had, both men, and women though yet chiefly, her own Sex in her eye,) she should also, being only but a Woman, be able, so to work upon men, as (in despite of less rigour, & no little envy) to bring them to take, as it were, the Law, at her hands; and, notwithstanding the pride of Old Adam, to overworke them, to cooperate with the Grace of the New; and to make them not disdain to accept of her Instruction; and to apply themselves to the imitation of this Virgin, will not allow us to do any thing, but wonder; save that, it was, most evidently, the hand, and the strong hand of Almighty God, who enabled, and strengthened this dear Servant of his to be the Instrument of so Heroical a work.  
And all this, is so excellently set down, by the said Doctor Lewis de Leon, as that I will do both the Saint, and her Children the right, to show them the very Fountain itself, from whence the Relation springs; and not deface, or disgrace it, by any imperfect description of mine own.  
You are therefore to understand, and consider (for, these circumstances are not impertinent, to the substance) that some years, after the death of this excellent Creature S. Teresa, and long before she was declared a Saint, by the judgement of the Holy Catholic Church (in the Process whereof, there uses ever, to be even an excess of difficulty, in weighing, and admitting of all Proofs) there grew a question, about the publishing of her Writings, and Works. And, to the end, that nothing might be done therein, either by any indiscreet zeal, or other accident, the Council Royal of Spain (which is a Body of great Authority, & Wisdom) committed the review, of whatsoever the Saint had left behind her, in that kind, to be considered, by some fit, & grave person; that so, that which should be found, to be truly hers, might be distinguished from other things, and so proceed to be public, by Authority. This person, was a learned, and renowned man, a Father of S. Dominicks Order, & a Doctor, who lived in Madrid, at that time. His name was Lewis de Leon, as I said before; who, together with acknowledging, and approving, yea and admiring her Writings (whereof this Life of hers, is the chief, employed himself also, with great care, to set them out, himself. And when this Book went to the Press, he dedicated it to the Prioress, and Religious Women, of the Teresian-Carmelites, who then, were newly founded, in Madrid. And here, you shall be entertained, with as much of that Dedicatory Epistle, as imports the excellency, both of the Holy Mother S. Teresa, and of those happy Daughters of hers, who already began to live under her Rule. And these, are his very words,  
I never saw, nor knew the Blessed Mother, Teresa of jesus, whilst yet, she was in this world; but now, when she lives in Heaven, I know her; and do, in effect, continually see her, in two living Images, or Pictures, of herself, which she left amongst us; and those are, her Daughters, & her Books; which serve also, in my opinion, for very faithful witnesses, and superior to all kind of exception, concerning the proof of her great virtue. For, if I had but seen the figure, and features of her face, they would have informed me, but of that part of her Body; And if I had heard her speak, and discourse, that, might also have declared some part of the worth of her Mind. But the first, would have been common, to others; & the second, might have been subject to error; to which these other, are not subject, in which I see her, now. For, as Solomon saith: A man, may be known, by his children; And the fruits, which any one leaves behind him, when he goes out of the world, are the true testimonies of the life, which he led, when he was here. And so we see, that Christ our Lord himself, when he was pleased in the holy Gospel, to put a difference, between the Good, and the Bad, addresses men, to consider their Fruits; for, By their Fruits, saith he, you shall know them.  
So that, the Virtue, and Sanctity of Mother Teresa, which might perhaps have seemed questionable, & doubtful to me, when I should have seen her here, the same I hold to be, both very evident, and very certain, (whilst now, I see her not) by the view, which I have of her, both in her Daughters, & in those Books, which she hath left behind her. For, by the virtue, which shines so brightly, in all those Daughters of hers, we come to know, without any error at all, the great abundance of grace, which it pleased Almighty God to vouchsafe to her, whom he would ordain to be the Mother of this new Miracle. And really, that deserves, to be held for no less, than a Miracle, which we see our Blessed Lord to be doing daily, both in them, and others, by their means. Nay, if that must go for a Miracle, which happens beyond the natural course, & order of things, there are, in this particular, so many of them, which are both new, and extraordinary, as that to call them but a Miracle, were to say little; for they are rather an assembly, and heap of Miracles.  
For, it is one Miracle, that a single Woman alone, should have reduced an Order, both of Men, & Women, to Perfection. And a second, that the Perfection, to which she brought them, was so great, and high. And a third, to find, to what a huge increase, it is grown, in so very few years, from so small beginnings. And now, every one of these three, is a thing, which deserves particular consideration. For, if it belong not to Women, to teach, but to be taught, (as S. Paul affirms) it grows instantly, to be a kind of Miracle, that a weak, & sickly Woman, should be so full of courage, as even to undertake so great a work, as that; and withal, should be so full of wisdom and efficacy, as finally, to prevail therein and should be also able, to steal the very hearts, out of the bodies of them, with who me she treated, that so, the might be able to give them, to Almighty God and carry such multitudes of people, after her, towards the embracing of all such things, as are apprehended, and abhorred most, by flesh, and blood. Whereby, me thinks, it appears, that, in a time, when the Devil pretends, to triumph, in the multitude of those Infidels, who follow him; and in the obstinacy of divers Heretical Nations, which take part with him; & amongst the many vices of loose Catholics, who range themselves also on his side, the Majesty of Almighty God, would be pleased (for the greater contempt, and scorn of the Devil) to advance, and set before him, not a Man, who should be valiant, & learned, but a poor, single Woman, who should raiseup, and plant a Banner of Defiance, against him; and should publicly draw people together, who might conquer him, and trample upon him, and even turn him, in fine, out of doors. And certainly, he was also resolved, that it should serve for a demonstration to the world, (and that, in a time, when so many thousands of men, were seeking, to venture upon the spoil of his Kingdom, (some, by their erroneous understandings; and others, by their depraved life, and manners) to prove, how Mighty, and Omnipotent he was, by his introducing, & enabling a Woman, who should both illuminate the minds, and compose the affections, and reform the actions, of many; and that her Children should daily grow-up, into greater numbers, towards the reparation of those ruins.  
Now, in this (as it were) old age of his Church, he hath been also pleased to show us, that his Grace is not grown old, and weak; and that the strength and virtue of his Holy Spirit, is not less powerful, at this day, than it was formerly, in those happy times of the Primitive Church. Since now, by certain means, which are of an inferior, and weaker kind, then before, he doth, either the same, or, in effect, the very same, which he did, then.  
For (to pass from the first Miracle, to the second) the Life, which your Reverences lead, and the Perfection, wherein your Holy Mother hath placed you, what is it, but a picture of the Sanctity of the Holy Primitive Church? For really, that, of which we read, in the Histories of those times, the self same thing, do we see now, with our very eyes, in your conversation, and proceeding. And your Life demonstrates that, by your actions, and works, which hath lately (through the little practice thereof) seemed to be only found, in papers, and words. And that, which being read, makes men wonder, yea and even flesh and blood, doth hardly know how to believe, we see to be all accomplished, and performed, by your Reverence, and your holy Community. For, how absolutely, are you all, untied, and freed, from whatsoever, in fine, is not God? And, how have you offered yourselves up, into the arms of your Celestial Spouse; in whom, you hourly embrace one another; with minds of valiant men, though in the bodies, but of weak, and delicate Women? And, how do you put in execution, the most high, and generous kind of Christian Philosophy, which ever was so much as thought of, by men; and so, arrive, by your actions, (in order to a perfect life) to the exercise of all Heroical Virtue; where, even the wits of men, have scarce arrived, with their Imagination? For, you make litter, of all the riches of this world; you have Liberty, in hatred; & Honour, in contempt; and you love Humility, and Mortification; and all your attention, and study, seems ever to consist, in gaining ground upon Virtue, by a holy kind of emulation, and competition, with one another. And so also, on the other side, your Spouse keeps very close correspondence with you, by infusing so very great strength of delight, and joy, into your Souls, as that you possess the treasure of true Alacrity, even in your very being deprived, and stripped of all those things, which are wont to give contentment, to poore-harted people, in this life. And so you also, with great generosity, tread all worldly things, under your feet; as persons, who be, as it were, exempted, even from the laws thereof; or at least, are grown superior to them all. For, neither doth trouble, or labour weary you; nor Clausure, afflict you; nor infirmity, discourage you; not even death, amaze, or fright you; but rather yield himself up, to be conquered, by you.  
But that, which in the midst of all these particulars, serves, to make the wonder, very extreme, is the great facility, and gust, wherewith you go through all these things, which, of themselves, are hard enough to be performed. For, Mortification is matter of solace to you; Resignation, as a kind of Sport; & Penance, a Pastime. And you go putting that, in execution, which turns Nature, into admiration; and you convert the exercise of the most Heroical Virtues, into a pleasant kind of entertainment; and all this, as it were, in a sporting, and rejoicing way; whereby, in fine, the certainty of those words of Christ our. Lord, that His yoke, is sweet, and his burden light, grows to be found effectually true. Since no Secular Lady, takes so much pleasure, in her ornaments, and attires, as your Reverences find it, to be a thing of great joy, and gust for you, to lead the life, even of Angels. And such do you seem, really, to be, not only in the perfection of your lives, but in the union also, & resemblance of minds, which you maintain therein, with one another; Since no two things, are more like one another, than you are all, amongst yourselves; and every one, to every other; in your speech, in your modesty, in your humility, in your discretion, in your sweetness of Spirit; and finally, in your whole proceeding, and conversation. For, as the self same virtue, and way of Life, animates you all: so doth it also frame you all, after one manner; and we see, in you all, (as in so many pure, Crystal glasses) one kind of face, and countenance, which is that, of your Holy Mother Teresa, derived down, and stamped upon her Daughters. By means whereof, I see her now, (as I was saying, at the first) with more evidence, and clearness, even without having formerly seen her; because her Daughters, are not only the lively pictures of her internal features, but the assured testimonies also, of her perfections. And these, are communicated to you all; and they pass from one of you, to another, with so great speed (which makes the Third Miracle-up) that, in the space of twenty years (for, this falls-out to be the time, since she founded her first Monastery, till now) Spain alone, is grown to be so full of her Monasteries, that above a thousand Religious persons, are daily serving Almighty God, in this Country; amongst whom, your Reverences (who are the Religious Women of that Order) shine brightly; and that, with as much difference, as the greater, and fairer Stars, exceed the lesser. For, as it was a happy Woman, who gave beginning to this Reformation: so it seems, that the Women are they, who, in all things, have advantage of others; and not only are the great, & guiding Lights of the Order, but are withal, the very honour of our Nation, and the glory, even of the Age, wherein we live. And, in fine, you are those fair Flowers, which beautify the great barrenness, of the Times; and are certainly, the most rare, and choice parts, of the Church of God; & lively testimonies of the efficacy of Christ our Lord; and the evident proof, of his Sovereign virtue; & finally, the express patterns, whereby we take the daily experience, of what is promised us, by our Faith.  
And this is now, as much, as concerns her Daughters; which is the former, of those two Images, or Pictures, of your Holy Mother, whereof I spoke. Nor, is the second Image, or Picture, a whitt less Miraculous, than that former; & it consists, in her Writings, & Books; wherein, without any question at all, the Holy Ghost vouchsafed, and resolved, that holy Mother Teresa should remain, as a rare example, to the world, etc. All these are the very words, of Doctor Lewis de Leon.  
By this you therefore see what judgement was made, at that time, of this admirable Creature, our Glorious Saint. But, by way of full conclusion, to as much, as I now intent to speak of her excellencies, I must needs add a Clause, or two, which I find delivered by another eminent, wise, & learned Author, & it was Father Ribera, a Father of the Society of JESUS, who written her whole Life, at large; & together with it, & indeed, as a very part thereof, he published certain Exclamations, or loud Aspirations, which her enamoured Soul was wont to make to Almighty God, together with certain Advertisements also, concerning the sense, and feeling of Spirit, which she found in herself; with a signification, how she was affected, towards his Divine Majesty; and finally, how she behaved herself then, in the growth of Prayer, and Perfection. Now, all this Account of herself, had been delivered, by her, in her own hand, to her Ghostly Father, (though one part of it, about a year sooner than the other) for the enabling him the better, to direct her; and she did it all, whilst she was yet, in the Monastery; of the Incarnation, where she was placed first, before she had settled her own Order, & way of Life, according to the primitive Institution thereof; though yet, she had even then, begun to serve our Blessed Lord, in great earnest. And then also, did his Divine Majesty rain down abundance of Supernatural Favours, upon her happy Soul; as the same exact Author declares. But, that judgement, which he made upon her, I will here deliver to you, since it is so very short; and withal, so very highly significant. For, thus he saith: By this, you may discern, to how great perfection, this happy Soul arrived, in so short a time, which deserves to cast the world, into admiration. For, since she, in her beginnings, got-up, towards the very top of that Perfection, which is wont to be acquired, in this Life, even by Saints; to what pass, would she arrive, in the space of two, or three and twenty years, which she lived afterwards; whilst she daily went increasing, in the love of Almighty God, by receiving so many high Favours, from his Divine Majesty; by performing so many Pennances; by enduring so great afflictions, & tormets', through sickness: together with many persecutions, and troubles; by founding so many Monasteries; by gaining so many Souls; by possessing so high Prayer; by using so continual Mortification; & finally, through such an incomparable treasure, as she acquired afterward, by a multitude of most excellent works. For, if her beginnings were such, as outstripped even the conclusion of very perfect Souls: how far shall we imagine, that she would be sure to arrive, and reach, ere she came to an end?  
These are the lively testimonies, of this last, exact, and diligent Author. And as for that former excellent discourse, of Doctor Lewis de Leon, it serves also, to let us see, very clearly, the perfections of her happy Children, the Religious Women of her Order. And, since even the Christian world, at large, is want to call, & know her, by the name of Mother Teresa, how much more, have the Religious, her dear, & most dear Daughters, reason, to call her so, as they do. Since, together with the strictness of their Rule, (a strictness yet, much more tending to the preserving, & purifying their Minds, then, any way, to the afflicting of their Bodies; (whatsoever the Devil would fain make the world believe, so to discourage the Servants of God, from becoming his better Servants, by living under this most holy, and happy Rule) there was ever so great indulgence in her, towards them, and such a tender kind of care, over the health, and contentment, yea and even, as it were, for the good humour of her Children, as that she might well deserve the name of a hundred thousand Mothers, all in one. For, that her very kindness, arrived even thus far, may be seen, in many passages both of her Rule, & of her Life. So that, upon the whole matter, it was a kind of hard case, to decide, whether she were of more rigour to herself; or of more indulgence, towards her Children. And she did expressly require, that her Successors should be always careful, to maintain the very self same sweet, and even, as it were, kinde-harted Spirit, in the government of all such Souls, as should, ever, come to range themselves by her Order. And it seems, that not only her counsel was imparted to them then, but that her prayers, & protection, continues now, to the self same purpose; and that still, she shrouds, and shelters, them, under that care. For, the selfsame Spirit remains so entirely truly, amongst them, at this day, that, as they lead the lives of Angels, on the one side, so yet, do they also, on the other, spend their time, with so much joy, & gust, (through that incredible kind of peace, & union of mind, which they possess, as well in order to their Superiors, as to themselves) as if every one of them, were no less, then mightily even in love, with every other; which puts them into a kind of Heaven, before their time. Nay still, she seems, as it were, visibly, to work, in all kinds, for their advantage.  
And here, since this holy Saint took all the accidents, and occasions, not only of her Children, but even of those Strangers, so extremely, and extraordinarily, to hart, who applied themselves, to obtain her help, whilst she was yet, but an Inhabitant of this world, I am confidently, yea and assuredly persuaded, that she will now, have another manner of solicitude, for their good, and growth, in all happiness, who shall celebrate, and desire to serve her. Which I wish, that the whole world may do; and, for my part, I am so much bound to our Blessed Lord (for which I adore him, with my whole hart) as to be sure, that I will procure to make one.   

The short Preface, or Introduction, which was made by the Glorious S. TERESA, herself, to this Life of hers, which she written.  
I Could have wished, that, as they have given me, a large kind of liberty, yea and a commandment also, to setdowne, both the manner of my Prayer, and the Favours, which our Blessed Lord was pleased to do me, they had also, no less permitted me, to declare my great Sins, and wicked Life, in very particular, and clear manner; for heerin, I should have received much consolation. But this, they would not suffer me to do; nay rather, in this kind, they tied me up, very short. And therefore I beg earnestly, even for the love of our Blessed Lord, that they, who shall read this Discourse of my Life, will take knowledge, and attentively observe, that it hath been so very unworthy, and wicked, as that I have not found any one Saint, amongst all them, who have been converted from Sin, to the Service of Almighty God, in whose example, I might be able to take comfort. For, I consider, that, when once our Lord called them to himself, they returned not, any more, to offend him; whereas I, not only grew worse, but rather, did (it seems) even make it my very business, and study, how to resist those great Favours, which his Divine Majesty was pleased to do me. As one, who, on the one side, found herself obliged to serve him, for them, so much the more; and yet, who, on the other, observed withal, that she was unable, to make him any payment, for the least part of all that, which she owed him. Let him be Blessed, for ever, who vouchsafed to expect me, so long; and I beseech him, with my whole hart, to give me grace, that I may, with all clarity, and truth, make this Relation, which my Ghostly Fathers have commanded, at my hands; yea, and which, I know, our Lord himself, hath long expected, from me; save that yet withal, I could not easily presume so far, as to venture upon it. But at least, I wish, that now, it may prove, to the glory, and praise of his Divine Majesty; as also, to the end, that my said Ghostly Fathers, (growing hereafter, into a clearer knowledge of me, by this means) may assist me, in my weakness, so much the more; that so, at length, I may be able, to pay some little part, of that much service, which I own to our Blessed Lord; Whom, let all Creatures praise, for all Eternity's;  
Amen.   

THE FIRST CHAPTER.  
She shows, haw our Lord began to stirre-up her Soul, in her Childhood, to the performing of virtuous actions; and of the help, which it gives, in order to this end, to be borne of virtuous Parents.  
THE very having of virtuous Parents, and such as live in the fear of Almighty God, together with those favours, which I received from his Divine Majesty, had been able, to have made me good, if I had not been so very wicked. My Father was delighted, in reading good Books; and used to have them in Spanish, that so his Children might also read them. This consideration, together with the care, which my Mother had, to make us say our Prayers, and to put us into a way of devotion to our Blessed Lady, and some other particular saints, began to awake, and stir me up, when I was (to the best of my remembrance) about six, or seven years old. It assisted me also, towards this good end, to find, that there was no means for me, to win the favour of my Parents, but by the way of Virtue. My Father was a man of much charity, towards poor people, and of compassion, towards the sick; yea, and he had so much pity, even of his servants, that he could never resolve to keep any slaves, for the tenderness which he had towards them. And there being once a slave, in his house, who belonged to a Brother of his, he caused him to be treated, and fed, as if he had been one of his own Children; and said, through his great compassion, that he could not endure to see such as he was, unless they might be made free. He was a man of much truth; nor did ever any creature hear him, either detract, or swear. He was exceedingly honest, and chaste. My Mother also, was enriched with many Virtues; and she passed through this life of hers, with grievous sicknesses. Her chastity, and purity, was great, in the very highest degree; and though she had an abundance of Beauty, yet was it never so much as heard, that she gave occasion, for the world to conceive, that she made any account of it, at all. For, coming afterwards to die, when she was but three and thirty years old, the order of her attire, had yet been such, as might have well become a person of Age. She was of a most sweet disposition; and yet withal, of a very solid understanding. The afflictions, which she sustained in this life, were great; and she made a most Christian end, when she died.  
We were three Sisters, and nine Brothers; and all, through the goodness of Almighty God, were like our Parents, in being virtuous, except myself; though yet, I was the most beloved of them all, by my Father; and truly, till I began to offend Almighty God, he might seem, to have had some reason. For it goes to my very hart, to remember, and consider, those good inclinations, which our Lord had given me; and the very little I knew, how to serve myself thereof. My Brothers also were such, in their proceeding, and way of life, as that they did not, by any means, dis-assist me, from serving Almighty God. One of them was almost of my years, and I loved him best, of them all; though yet, I loved them all, very much, as they also, did me. But we two, joined much together, in reading the lives of Saints; and when I saw the Martyrdoms, through which, some of them had passed, for the love of our Lord, me thought they had bought Heaven (where they were to see, and enjoy his Divine Majesty) very good cheap: And myself also desired much, to die so; though not yet, for the love, which I found, and felt myself to bear him; but rather, that I might come, by so compendious a way, to enjoy those great felicities, which I had read, to be imparted in Heaven. I associated myself therefore, to this Brother of mine, to consider, what means there might be, for our obtaining this end. And so we grew to resolve, that we would go into: Barbary, amongst the Moors, and beg, by the way, as we went; that so we might come, by degrees, to lose our lives there, for our Lord. And it seemed, that he, gave us courage enough, for this purpose, even in that tender age of ours, if we could have found any means, to set it on foot; but our even having of Parents, seemed to be the greatest hindrance, we had.  
We found ourselves much amazed, to perceive, in those things, which we read, that both the Pain, and Glory, of the next life, was to last for ever; and we chanced, to speak often, of this particular; and we took pleasure, in repeating these words, many times; For ever, For ever, For ever; and by continuing to pronounce them, long, and often, our Lord was pleased, to imprint the way of Truth, upon my hart, in that very infancy of mine.  
But now, when I see it was impossible for me, to go, where they might put me to death, for the love of our Lord, my Brother, and I, projected, how to become Heremits, at home; and so, in a certain Garden, which belonged to the house, we procured, to set up some little Oratoryes, or Chapels, after the manner of Heremitages, the best we could; and we assembled little stones, for that purpose, which would instantly be falling down again; and so we met with no means, to put out good desires, in execution. But, in the mean time, I am not without some feeling of devotion, to consider, how soon it pleased Almighty God, to give me this kind of tenderness towards him; which afterwards I grew to lose, through mine own fault. I gave Alms, as well as I could, though it were but little. I procured to be much alone, for the better doing my devotions, which were many; and especially that of the rosary, to which, my Mother was much affected; and she endeavoured also, to make us, so. I took particular contentment, whilst I was playing with other Children, like myself, to frame certain little things, like Monasteries, as if we had been Religious women; and me thought, I desired to be one; though yet, not with such vehemency of affection, as I did those other things, whereof I spoke.  
I remember, that when my Mother died, she left me a little less, then five years old; and as soon as I began to understand, how great a loss I had sustained, by losing her, I was very much afflicted; and so I went before an Image of our Blessed Lady, and I humbly besought her, with many tears, that she would vouchsafe, to be my Mother. And though I performed this little action, but in a plain, and simple manner; yet, me thinks, I may well conceive, that it hath served me, to very good purpose; for I have most evidently found, the favour of this Sovereign Virgin, concerning all things, wherein I have recommended myself, to her care; and, in fine, she hath brought me about, to herself.  
It afflicts me to the very hart, to see, and consider, how poor those impediments were, which kept me from remaining entire, and constant, in those good desires, which I began to have. But, O my dear Lord, since it seems, thou wilt vouchsafe to save me (and I beseech thy Divine Majesty, that it my be so) and to show me so great favours, as thou hast done me; might it not please thee (not for my interest, and profit, but for that high reverence, which is due to thyself) to take order, that this house of my hart, wherein thou shouldst for ever remain, might be no more defiled? Nay, it goes, O Lord, to my very soul, even to say thus much; because I know, and feel, that the fault thereof, was wholly mine; for, as for thee, I find clearly enough, that there wanted nothing at all, on thy part, to secure me, for being totally thine own, even from that tender age of mine. And if I would be content, to seek some colour, to complain of my Parents; with as little reason also, can I do that; since I could never discover any thing in them, but all goodness, and all care also, of my good. But passing on, from that tender age, to be able, to begin to understand the benefits, and gifts of Nature, which our Lord had bestowed upon me (which others esteemed, and said, to be great) in steed of giving him thanks for the same, I began, to serve myself of them all, towards the offence of his Divine Majesty; as I shall now declare.   

THE SECOND CHAPTER.  
Which shows, how she went losing, in the way of Virtue; and how very much it imports, to converse, in childhood, with virtuous persons.  
I Believe, that a certain thing, whereof I will now give account, began to do me a great deal of hurt. Sometimes I grow to consider, how ill those Parents do, who procure not, that their Children should be ever seeing examples of Virtue, in all kinds. For, though my Mother were very eminent that way, (as I have said already) yet I took not so much of that good to myself, when first I came to the use of Reason, no nor almost even any thing at all; and, on the other side, whatsoever there was of imperfect, and ill, did hurt me much. My Mother was very particularly affected, to read Books of Cavalleria, or vain histories; but she took not so much hurt, by that entertainment, as I did; because it hindered not that work the while, about which she was; but disengaged us, from other things, that so we might read them. And perhaps she did it also the rather, that she might so, have her thoughts less bend, upon the memory of the great afflictions, which she felt, and to employ also her Children in such sort, as to divert them, from the thought of worse things. My Father was yet so much troubled at this, that particular care was had, that he might not kouw it. But I, in the mean time, remained with the custom of reading these Books; and that little fault of mine, which even I, myself, discerned therein, began to cool my good desires; and was the reason, why I also grew to fail, in the rest; and I made myself believe, that it was not very ill done; though yet I spent many hours, both of the day, and night, in so vain an exercise; and though it were still concealed from my Father. But I was possessed heerwith, in such extremity, that if perhaps, I could not get some new Book, I see not, how I could be in contentment.  
I began also to make myself fine; and to desire, to grow acceptable, in seeming handsome; and I took much care of my hands, and of my hair, and to get choice perfumes; together with all those vanities, which it was possible, for me to incurte, by this means; which, I confess, were enough; in regard, that I was very curious, in this kind. I had only, no ill intention; nor desired I, upon any terms, that any Creature should offend Almighty God, upon any occasion of mine; but I continued, in so great a curiosity, for daintiness, and cleanliness, as was even beyond all reason; and those things, which for many years, I conceived to be of no sin at all, I find now, how very ill they were.  
Now I had certain Cousin-germen, who frequented my Father's house, in familiar manner; no others, having any such liberty as that. For, my Father was very wary, and reserved, in this kind; but I would to God, he had also been so, in respect of my Cousins; because now, I discern the danger, that it is, for such as are to begin to plant Virtue in the soul, to treat with persons, who know not, in true account, how great the Vanity of the world is; but rather are inclined to awake, & stir others up, to cast themselves also, into the same danger. These kinsmen of mine, were, in effect, of mine own age; or rather a little elder than I. We were usually together: and they carried great affection to me, and in all things, which gave them contentment, I was willing to uphold the discourse; and gave ear, to the successes of their love to others: and such other fooleries, as are good for nothing. Yea, and, which is worse, I grew, by these means, to lay my soul open, to be looked upon, by certain idle thoughts, which were the cause of all the ensuing ill. If I were worthy, to advise Parents, I would wish them to take great heed, what kind of persons they admitted, to converse with their Children; for, much harm, may grow from thence; since the natural condition of Mankind, will never climb up, so easily towards good, as decline towards ill; at least, it happened so, to me. I had a Sister, much elder, than myself, of whose purity, and goodness (whereof she had great store) I took no part; but I failed not, to take all hurt, from a certain other kinswoman of mine, who had also, familiar entry into our house. Now she, was of so light, and guiddie a conversation, that my Mother had used several diligences, to divert her, from familiarity with us. For it seems, she did even half foresee the mischief, which was to grow upon me, by her means; and yet, on the other side, the occasion was so great, & fair, whereby she was to enter, that even my Mother, could not tell, how to decline it. With this Creature (as I was saying) did I come to have much delight, to entertain myself. With her, was my conversation, and my discourse; because I found, that she employed herself willingly, upon all those ways, of passing my time, wherein I delighted most. Yea, and, sometimes, she would embark me in them, of herself; giving me part, and knowledge, of all her own conversations, and vanities. Till I began to be familiar with her (when, I think, I was some fourteen years old, or rather a little more) I mean, till she had wrought herself into so much friendship with me, as to make me partake the knowledge of all her little affairs) I am much inclined to think, that I had never forfeited the favour of Almighty God, by any Mortal Sin; nor ever forsaken the fear of his Divine Majesty; though yet still, I feared more, to lose my honour. This last point, was of power enough with me, for not permitting me to lose it outright; nor do I conceive, that any thing of this world, could make me change that resolution; nor was there any person alive, who could win me, to yield myself up, to that misery. I would to God, I had so abounded in strength, & courage, as not to make one pace, against the honour of his Divine Majesty; as even a kind of natural constitution of mind, confirmed me, towards the not losing that, wherein I held the honour of this world, to consist; though yet I considered not, the while, that I lost, even that also, many ways. For the vain upholding hereof, I had even an extreme resolution; though yet, for the proper, and fit means, which was necessary for preserving it, I used none at all; only I was earnest, in taking care, that I might, by no means, lose myself, outright.  
My Father, and my Sister, were much troubled about this friendship of mine, and reproved me for it, very often; but yet, they being unable to remove the occasion of her coming to us, at times, their diligences were ever wont, to fall short; for, my sagacity, & sharp conceit, in contriving any thing, which might be ill, was very great. I am sometimes, upon this occasion, in a wonder, at how much hurt, ill company may do; and if it had not been mine own case, I could hardly believe it; especially, when it occurrs, in the time of innocent, and fresh youth; for then, doth it greatest hurt; and I could wish, that Parents would take some warning by me, that so they might consider it well. For the truth is, that this conversation did work such an entire change upon me, that I, who formerly, had not only a Soul, but even a kind of natural constitution, inclined to Virtue, was grown to have, in effect, no semblance, or sign at all, thereof; and it seems, that both she, and yet another, who was, upon the matter, of the same humour, had imprinted their own conditions upon me. From hence also, I am grown to understand, how precious a thing, good company is; and I hold it for as good, as a most certain truth, that, if in that age of mine, I had conversed with only virtuous persons, myself should have proved accomplished, in the way of Virtue; and that, if, in those tender years, I had met with such, as would have made it their business, to make me fear Almighty God, my soul would have gathered such strength, as might have kept it from falling. But afterward, this fear of God, growing to be lost, the care only of my honour remained; which gave me a kind of torment, in whatsoever I did.  
But now, with thinking, that such, and such things, would never be known, I presumed to do many, which were both against my honour, and against God. In the beginning, those things did me harm, as I am apt to think; though yet perhaps, that happened not, by the fault of others, but by mine own; but afterward, mine own malice fell out, to be sufficient, for mine own mischief; together with the help of my Maids, who were ready enough, for any thing, that was naught. If any one of them, had but advised me well, it would have served my turn; but interest blinded them; as my inclination, did me. And though I never was addicted to much ill (for even naturally I abhorred such things, as concerned dishonesty) yet I liked to pass my time in fair conversation; but being afterward grown into the occasions, the danger was nearer at hand; and that brought also my Father, and my Brothers, into some. But God, delivered me out of them, in such sort, as that it well appeared, how he was pleased to procure, even against my will, to preserve me, from my total perdition; though yet still, things could not be carried so privately, as that my honour did not suffer prejudice by it, even abroad; besides a little suspicion of my Father, at home. For I remember not, that they arrived to be three months, of my walking, up, and down, in these vanities, when they carried me to a certain Monastery, in this town, where they were wont to give education, to such, as I was; though yet, not so untoward, as myself. But it was done with great discretion, and reserve; for only I, and a kinsman of mine, knew of it; and they stayed a while, for a certain coniuncture of things, to keep it from seeming new, or strange; for, my Sister was then lately married; and so, it would not seem, so very handsome, that I should stay at home alone, without a Mother.  
The love, which my Father bore me, was so extreme (and so also was my dissimulation) that he could not believe so much ill of me, as I deserved; and therefore I was not fall'n into his disfavour. For, the time having been but short, though perhaps, he might happen to hear of some little wispering, yet it could never be delivered to him, with any certainty; in regard, that I having so tender a care of myself, in point of honour, all my diligences were employed, upon keeping things secret; and I considered not, the while, how impossible a thing it was, to hide any thing from him, by whom, all things are seen. O my God what a mischief doth it bring upon the world, to make light of this; and to think, that such things can be secret, as are repugnant to thy will? For my part, I hold it for certain, that many great sins would be forborn, if once we would grow to understand, that the business doth not consist, in saveing ourselves harmless from men; but in keeping ourselves very far, from disgusting Almighty God.  
During the first eight days of my being in the Monastery, I feit it much, even for itself; but yet more, for the suspicion I had, that my vanity was discovered, then for that I was placed there. For now already, I became weary of doing ill; and I failed not, to have great fear, of Almighty God, whensoever I offended him; and I procured, to Confess myself often.  
But after those eight days, yea & peradventure sooner, I grew to be better pleased there, then even in mine own Father's house. All the Religious were glad to be in my company; for in this, our Lord endued me with a particular grace, that I always, gave contentment, wheresoever I was; and so I used ever, to be much beloved. And though I were, at that time, in extremity of being averse from becoming a Religious woman, yet I joyed to see so good Religious women, as they were, after an eminent proportion, in that house; and of great purity, and observance, and recollection.  
But yet, notwithstanding all this, the Devil gave not over to tempt me; and he found out such persons from abroad, as might disquiet me, with certain messages of theirs. But, in regard there was no great opportunity for those things, they quickly ceased; and my soul began again, to accustom itself to the good impressions, of my first youth; and I saw, how great favour, Almighty God doth them, whom he casts into their company, who are good. And it seems, as if the Divine Majesty had gone looking, and yet looking again, by what means he might bring me back, to himself. Blessed be thou, O lord, who didst endure me so long; Amen. One particular there was, which, it seems, might turn a little, to my excuse, if I had not been guilty of so many faults: And it is, that the Conversation, which I held, was with one, who, by way of marriage, seemed to make it probable, to end well. And I informing myself, about it, of my Confessarius, and of others also, with whom I consulted in many things, they told me, that I offended not Almighty God.  
But now, one of the Religious was lodged, where we, who were secular persons, were also accommodated; and it seems, that our lord was pleased to give me light, by her means; as I will now declare.   

THE THIRD CHAPTER.  
Wherein she treats, how her falling into virtuous company, was the occasion of her returning to awake good desires, in herself; And how our Lord began, to give her some light of the error, wherein she had formerly been.  
But now, I, beginning to take gust, in the good, and holy conversation, of this Religious woman, was joyed to hear, how well she was wont to speak of Almighty God; for, she was both very holy, and very discreet. Of this, I conceive, & confess, I did never, at any time, give over, to ●●●●ery glad to hear. She began, one day, to tell n●●●●ow she was grown, to be a Religious woman, by the only reading of that place, of the Gospel, That many are called; but few, are chosen. And she spoke much to me, of the reward, which our lord is wont to give to such, as leave all things, for the love of him. In a word, this good society of hers, began quickly, to put to flight, those customs, and condivons, which ill company had brought upon me; and restored the desire of eternal blessings, to my thoughts; yea, and to strip me, in some part, of that great enmity, and opposition, against becominge a Religious woman, which formerly had been very extreme. But now, if I chanced to see any one, who shed many tears for her sins; or else, that she abounded in other virtues; I carried a kind of envy towards her; though as for this hart of mine, it was so very hard, and even impenetrable in this kind, that if I should have read over, the whole History of the Paision of our Blessed Saviour, I was not able to shed a tear; and this put me to a great deal of pain. In this Monastery, did I remain, a year, and a half; and I was much improved there. I began to say many Vocal prayers; and I procured, of all the Religious, that they would recommend me much, to Almighty God; to the end, that he might place me in such a way of Life, as, wherein, I might be likely, to serve him best. But still I did even desire, that I might not be a Religious woman, and that this, might not be the state, which God would give me; though yet still, I was afraid to be married. But now, at the end of the time, when I was there, I already began to be more inclined to be a Religious woman; though yet, not in that very House where I was then in regard of those actions of extraordinary virtue, and penance, which, I understood, they used; and which seemed to me, of too much rigour. Yet there were some of the younger sort of themselves, who encouraged me, towards those formet more imperfect thoughts; for, if they all, had been of one opinion, it would have been much, to my true advantage. I had also a great friend, in another Monastery; and this was partly a reason, why, if I would be a Religious woman, I would not yet be so, in any other place, then where that friend of mine was. For I carried more respect, to my sensuality, and vanity, then to the benefit, which I might bring to my soul. These good thoughts of being a Religious woman, were often coming to me, by times; but they were instantly sent away again; and I could not yet persuade myself, to be one.  
At this time, though myself were not altogether without care of my cure, yet our Lord was much fuller of desire, to dispose me, for that state, which would be best, for my soul. He then gave me so great a sickness, that I was forced, to return home, to my Father's house. And when once, I was recovered, they conducted me, to give a Visit, to one of my Sisters, in the Country; for, the love, which I bore her, was extreme, and by her will, I should never have parted from her. Her Husband did also love me very much; and, at least, he regaled me highly. And even for this also, am I obliged to our Blessed Lord; since in all places where I have been, I was ever treated after this manner; notwithstanding that I have been, as unthankful to him for it, as for his other favours.  
Now by the way towards my Sister, I had an Uncle, my Father's Brother, who was a very advised man, and of great virtue. He was a Widower; and our Lord went disposing him, for his own service; and when he grew on, to be of years, he left the world, and became a Religious man; and ended his life, in such sort, that I believe, he is now enjoying the Vision of Almighty God. But he would needs have me (as I passed) remain with him, some days. His usual exercise, was to read good Books, in the Spanish tongue; and his discourse was most commonly of God, and of the vanity of the world; and those Books, would he also make me read. And though I had no great liking to this, yet I pretended that I had; for, in the point of giving contentment to others, I had ever an extreme kind of care, how dear soever it might cost me. So that the same thing, which had been virtue in others, was a great fault in me; because I often carried myself therein, with much indiscretion. O my God By what ways did thy Divine Majesty go disposing me, for that state, in which thou wert pleased, that I should serve thee; since thou didst even force me thus, as it were, against my will, to force myself. Be thou blessed for all eternity; Amen.  
Though I stayed not long, in that place; yet, by the effect, which the words of Almighty God, wrought in my hart, whether they were read, or heard by me, together with so good company, as that was, wherein I found myself then, I came to understand this Truth, which I had learned, when I was yet but a Child, That, namely, all was nothing; and how great, the vanity of the world was; and that all, would be, shortly, at an end; and that I might justly fear, least dying in that condition, wherein I was, I might chance go dropping down into Hell. And though my will did not yet entirely resolve me, to make myself a Religious woman, yet I well discerned, that it was the better, and more secure state; and so, by little and little, I determined, to force my hart, to embrace it. In this battle, I remained three months, constraining myself, at last, by this following discourse, and reason: that the troubles, and afflictions, of being a Religious woman, could not be greater, than the pain of Purgatory; And that I, having so well deserved Hell, it was not to be esteemed too much, if I remained, whilst I should live, here, as in Purgatory, so that afterward, I might go straight to heaven. For this, was my desire. But yet even in this inclination of mine, to take this state upon me, I doubt I was more moved, by a kind of servile Fear, then by Love..  
The Devil, in the mean time, represented to me, that I would never be able, to suffer the difficulties, and troubles of a Religious life; because formerly, I had been used so delicately, and was so nice. But yet, against this also, I defended myself, as well as I could, by the afflictions, which Christ our Lord, endured for me; and that so, it would not be much, for me to endure some, for him, I ought also to have considered, that he would give me help, to bear them. Yet I remember not, whether I had this last consideration, or no; but I am sure, I had temptations enough, about that time. I then also grew, to have great fits of fainting, by a burning Fever, into which I fell; for I always had little health.  
But it gave me even my life, at that time, that already I was grown to love good Books; and so I came to read the Epistles of S. Jerome, which holp me to such hart, and courage, as to make me resolve, that I would impart my purpose, to my Father; which, in effect, was even as much for me, as to take the very Habit upon me. For I was ever so affected, to maintain the point of Honour, that, me thinks, I could never have turned back again, upon any terms, when I had first engaged myself, by speaking any one word, to the contrary. But he loved me, to so strange a proportion, that, by no means, I could win his consent; nor was the intercession of such persons, as I procured to move him, in order to my end, of any power at all, to prevail. The most that I could get at his hands, was, that, when he should be dead, I might do, what I listed, with myself. But, as for me, I was in doubt, of mine own great weakness; as fearing, that I might lose ground, and fall back again: And so, I thought, it was not fit for me, to content myself with the offer which he made; and I procured therefore, to obtain my end, by another means; which I will now declare.   

THE FOURTH CHAPTER.  
Wherein she relates, how our Lord assisted her, to force herself, to take the Habit of Religion; And of the many infirmities, which he began to bring upon her.  
IN these days, whilst I was walking on, with my hart, in such determinations, or strong purposes, as I have here described, I persuaded one of my Brothers, to become a Religious man; discoursing to him, upon the vanity of the world; and so we, both of us, agreed, to go very early together, one morning, to the Monastery, where that friend of mine remained, who was she, to whom I carried so great affection; though yet, in this last firm purpose of mine, I was grown to be of such resolution, that I would live, wheresever I thought, I might serve God best, or my Father should desire most, that I might be; for now, I sought more earnestly, for the good of my soul; and made no account at all, of rest, or ease. And I remember (to the very uttermost, of what I am able to call to mind, and according to the very rigour of truth) that, whilst I was going out of my Father's house, I believe not, that the sharpness of sense, will be able to be greater, even in the very instant, or agony of my death, than it was then. For it seemed to me; as if every bone, which I had in my body, had been disjointed from all the rest. And there being no such love of God in me, at that time, as was able to quench that love, which my hart carried to my Father, and Friends; all that, which then I did, was with so mighty a violence, that if God had not given me great help, mine own consideration would never have been able to carry me on; but here, he allowed me such courage, even against myself, that I had power, to put my purpose, in execution.  
At the instant of my taking the Habit, our Lord gave me well to understand, how highly he favours them, who offer themselves violence, for the doing him any service; though yet, no body had found by me, but that I entered into the way of Religious Observance, with much facility, and good liking. But at that very instant, I took so great contentment, to put myself into that manner of life, as hath never failed me once, till this very hour. And God changed that dryness, wherein my soul had formerly been, into an extreme tenderness; and all the observances of Religion, gave me great delight; yea, and it is a most certain truth, that whilst I was, sometimes, going, up, and down, to sweep the house, at such hours, as, before, I had been want to employ upon the gallantry, and regalo of my person, and went considering, that now I was free from that subjection, it gave me a particular joy; and that, so very great, that it amazed me; nor was it in my power, to understand, from whence the same should come. When I remembered, and considered this; there could be nothing, how grievous soever, upon which, if it were set before me, I should not have ventured to attempt. For I have already, good experience of things enough, to assure me, that since God did help me, in the beginning, to resolve to do such things, as these (which being only done for the love of God he ordains, for our greater merit afterward, that our souls should be in some trouble, and terror, at the first; and the greater that trouble is, the greater, and the more savoury also, will the reward thereof, fall out to be, if we go through, with the business) his Majesty will also be pleased, to recompense them, highly well, even in this life; by such ways, as he only, who enjoys them, can understand. This, I say, I have found true, by experience, in many particulars of great moment. And therefore, if I were a person, who might be wished to give my opinion, I would never advise any Creature. that, when any good inspiration did often move, and set upon a soul, it should give it over, for fear of not performing the work. For, if one go on, merely, and purely, for the only love, of our Lord, there must be no fear at all, of good success; since the same Lord is powerful enough, to prevail in all things; And let him be ever blessed, Amen.  
These favours, which thou hadst, hitherto, bestowed vpon me, out of thine own mere goodness, and greatness, might well have been sufficient, (O thou, my Sovereign Good, and repose of my soul) to draw me towards thee, by so many wind, and turnings, to so safe a way of life; and to a House, where there are so many servants of thine, of whom I might learn to grow up in pleasing thee. But here I know not, how I can pass on, to think of any thing else, when I consider the manner of my Profession; and the great resolution, and gust, wherewith I made it; and the espousals, which I perfected with thee. For I cannot speak of this, without tears; which were to be, even of blood; and not without the breaking of my very hart (which yet could not be too great a demonstration) when I weigh, how deeply I offended thee afterward. Now, me thinks, that I had reason before, in not desiring so great a dignity, as this; considering, how ill I were like to employ it. But thou, O my Lord, wert pleased to permit, that I might use this favour so ill, twenty years together; and wouldst content thyself, to be the person affronted, that I might be the person, improved. For, it seems not to me now, O my God, that I made thee any promise, of any thing, but only, that I would keep no promise, which I had made thee; though yet, my intention was not such, at that time.  
And yet, I find my actions, to have grown afterward, to be such, that I may very well think, I scarce know, what kind of intention I had. And thus, it may the better be seen, who thou art; O my Spouse, and my God; and who I am. For it is really, an express truth, that the grief, for my very great sins, is tempered in me, many times, by the contentment, which this consideration gives me, that my sinfulness may prove a means, to make the multitude of thy mercies, be understood. For, in whom, O Lord, can they ever shine so brightly, as in me; who have, by my wicked actions, so obscured those great favours, which thou beganst to do me? Ah, woe is me, O my Creator; for, if I look for any excuse, I can find none; nor hath any creature the fault of it, but only myself; and if I would pretend to pay thee any thing, for the least part of that Love, which thou beganst to show me, I should not know, how to employ it, upon any thing, but only thyself; and thereby, might all be redressed, since I never deserved the same. Nor was I ever so happy as to do even this; and therefore now, O Lord, let thy mercy vouchsafe, to supply all wants.  
But now, the change, which I made of my life, and the difference of my food, at this time, from the former, began to do me hurt, in the way of health; for though the contentment, which I had, was great, yet would it not serve the turn. My fits of fainting, and swooning, began again to increase; and such a hideous beating of the hart, came upon me, as amazed all them, who saw it; besides many other infirmities. And thus I passed on, my first year, with a kind of health, which was ill enough; though yet, within that time, I conceive myself, not to have offended God, much.  
But my sickness being so great, that it deprived me almost of my senses (yea and sometimes, I was wholly deprived) the diligences, which my Father used for my recovery, were also very great; and when the Doctors of those parts, found no remedy, he procured to get me removed, to a certain place, where there was great fame of the curing many other infirmities; and so, they assured themselves, that they would be able to do also, with mine. That friend, whom I mentioned to be in that House, went with me; for she was of years; and in the Monastery, where she lived, they made no Vow of Clausure. I stayed almost a year, in that other place; and, during three months thereof, I suffered so excessive torments, by the manner of the Cure, which was very rigorous, that I know not, how I was able to endure them; and though I did endure them, yet, me thinks, it was not my Body, which could do it; as I will now declare.  
This Cure was to be taken in hand, in the beginning of Summer; and I went in the beginning of Winter. All this mean time, I remained in the house of that Sister, of whom I spoke before, who dwelled in the Country; because I was then, near the place; and yet it was very troublesome, to be going, and coming, to, and fro. When I departed from that Uncle of mine, whom I declared myself, to have visited in the way, he gave me a certain Book, which is called, The third A. B. C.; which treats of the manner of Prayer, with Recollection. Now, though in that first year, I had read some good Books, forbearing utterly, to look upon any other (for I was not ignorant, of the hurt, which such as those, had done me) yet I knew not, how to proceed in Prayer, nor how to obtain Recollection; and so I was very glad of this Book, and determined to follow that way, to the uttermost of my power. And, since our Lord had already been pleased, to bestow the gift of tears upon me; and since I delighted also in reading, I began to spend some good fits of time, in solitude; and to Confess myself very often; and, in a word, to address myself, by that way; esteeming that Book to be my Master. For I could meet with no other Master, (I mean, a Ghostly Father) who was able to understand me; though I fought such an one, almost twenty years, after this time. Which accident, did me hurt enough, towards the making me turn back often; yea, and for the making me lose myself. But such an one, would have daily assisted me, to lay aside, and leave those occasions, which I took, to offend Almighty God.  
In these beginnings, his Divine Majesty began to do me so great favours, that at the end of the time, when I remained there, (which was about nine months) in this way of solitude; (though I were not so free from offending God, as the Book appointed; which I neglected, as holding it impossible, to continue still, so watchful over myself) I was careful, not to commit any Mortal sin; and I would to God, I had always been so; but of venials, I made no great account; and this was that, in fine, which destroyed me. But our Lord began to regale me so much, by this way, that he vouchsafed me the favour, to give me Quiet Prayer; and sometimes, it came so far, as to arrive to Union; though I understood, neither the one, nor the other; nor how much they both, deserved to be prized. But I believe, it would have been a great deal of happiness, for me, to have understood the certainty thereof. True it is, that this Union rested with me, for so short a time, that, perhaps, it might arrive to be, but as of an Aue Maria; yet I remained with so very great effects thereof, that, with not being then, so much as twenty years old, me thought, I found the whole world under my feet; and so I remember well, that I was wont to carry great compassion towards such, as followed the ways of the world; though it were, but even in lawful things.  
I Procured, the best I could, to carry our Lord, who is our true Good, still present with me; and even within me; and this was the manner of my prayer. If I thought upon any passage, or Mystery, I represented it, to the interior, of myself; and other times, I spent in reading good Books; which was all the recreation, that I had. For God gave not me the talon of discoursing with my Understanding, nor to help myself, by the use of my Imagination, which I have so heavy, and gross, that even to think, and represent within myself, so much as the Humanity of our Blessed Lord, (which I endeavoured to do) was yet more, than I could possibly perform. And, howsoever, by this way, of not being able to employ, and set the Understanding on work, in the way of discourse, men may sooner arrive to Contemplation, if they persever therein; yet is it very troublesome, and painful; because, if the employment of the will, do fail so far of obtaining the true end, as that their Love find no present Object to embrace, the soul is left, as it were, without any exercise, and rest, at all; and that kind of solitude, and dryness, gives much trouble; and opens the way, to a combat, and confusion of thoughts.  
As for persons, who have this disposition, there is need of a greater purity of Conscience, then for such others, as are able to work, and discourse, by way of the Understanding. For he, who is able to discourse, upon what this world is; and upon what he owes to Almighty God; and how much he suffered for him; and how little himself is able to serve him; and what he bestows upon such, as love him; will be able to draw a doctrine from thence, which may defend him from impertinent thoughts, and occasions, and dangers. But he, who can not serve himself thereof, runs more hazard; and shall therefore do well, to employ himself much, upon reading; since, on his own part, he knows not, how to help himself.  
This manner of proceeding, is so very extremely painful, that, if the Director, who instructs, shall urge him much, to pray, without reading (which greatly helps to recollect the person, who proceeds thus; yea and is necessary for him, though it be little, which he reads; save only in time, and place of Mental Prayer, which he is not able to make) I say, if without this help, they make him stay much in Prayer, it will be impossible, for him, to last long, therein; and besides, it will do him hurt, in point of health; for it is extremely painful.  
Now it seems, that our Lord provided so for me, as that I should not find any Creature, to instruct me; for it had been impossible for me, I think, to continue to endure this extreme difficulty, and these great aridities, through my not being able (as I was saying) to discourse. In all these times, I never durst begin to pray, without a Book in my hand, unless it were instantly, upon my having Communicated; and as heartily was my soul afraid to be in Prayer, without a Book, as if I had been to fight, with a multitude of people; but by this remedy, of a good Book, which was as a Company of Guard, or as a Buckler, upon which, the blows of many thoughts, were to be received, I went on, with comfort. For, that dryness was not ordinary with me, though I had it always, whensoever I had no Book in my hand; but then, my soul was instantly in disorder; and my thoughts wandered, up, and down. But with reading, I began to recollect them, and carried my hart cheerfully, and delightfully on; yea, and, many times, in the very opening my Book, I found myself need no more. Sometimes also, I read little; and sometimes, much; according to the favour, which our Lord was pleased to do me, more, or less. And it seems to me, that if, in those beginnings, whereof I speak, I might have had Books, and means to continue in solitude, there would have been no danger, which could have been able, to deprive me, of so great a good, And I am also apt to think, that, by the favour of Almighty God, it would have proved so, if I had had a Director, or some person, who might have counselled me, to avoid occasions, in those beginnings, and to make me forsake them quickly, if I had been entered into them; yea, and, though the Devil should then, have set openly, upon me, I think, that I would never have been brought, to offend God grievously again; but he was so very crafty, and I so wretched, that all these resolutions of mine, did me little good; but the time, which I spent in God's service, did me very much, towards the bearing those terrible sicknesses, which I endured, with so great patience as his Divine Majesty vouchsafed to bestow upon me.  
I have often considered the great goodness of Almighty God, even with amazement; and my soul had been regaled, to see the magnificence of his mercy towards me. Let him be blessed for all things. For I have seen, in most evident manner, that he hath not left any one good desire of mine, without recompense, even in this life; and how imperfect, and full of fault soever, my works were, yet this Lord of mine, went bettering, and perfecting them, and giving them worth; and my sins, and miseries, he would instantly hide; Yea his Divine Majesty hath permitted, that even the eyes of such, as saw them, should be blinded, and their memories fail, when they would remember them. He even guilds our faults, and makes that virtue shine bright, which he, the same Lord, conveys into me; and wherein, he offers me even a kind of violence, that I may receive it.  
But I will now, return to speak of those things, which they have commanded me to declare: And I say, that, if I be to set forth, after a particular manner, in what sort our Lord proceeded with me, in these beginnings, I shall need another manner of understanding, than mine own, to perform all that, with advantage, for which, I am obliged to him, in this particular; and to publish mine own ingratitude, and wickedness, since he hath forgotten it all. Let him be blessed for ever, who hath endured so much, at my hands;  
Amen.   

THE FIFTH CHAPTER.  
She prosecutes the relation of the great infirmities, which she had; and of the patience, which our Lord gave her, in them; and, how benefits are drawn, out of mischiefs; as will be seen, by a certain particular, which happened to her, in the place, whither she went, to be cured.  
I Forgot to relate, how, in the year of my Nouitiate, I suffered much disquiet, about some things, which, in themselves, were of little importance; but I found myself, to be blamed many times, without my having made any fault; and this, I took with trouble, and imperfection enough; though yet, I endured it all, through the contentment, which I had, to be a Religious woman. When they observed me, to love Solitude so well, and saw me shed tears sometimes, (which yet indeed, was for my sins) they thought, yea, and, they said, that it grew, but from some inward melancholy, and disgust. For my part, I had a good inclination, to all the observances of a Religious life, save only, that I knew not, how to endure any thing, which might carry, so much, as an appearance of contempt, with it; for I delighted in being esteemed. I was curious, about whatsoever, I took in hand; and I would needs think this, to be virtue in me, though yet, this will never serve me, for a discharge, because I known well enough, how to procure all those things, which might give me gust; and so, ignorance will not free me from blame. It was a defect in this Monastery, that it had not been founded, in much perfection; and I, (as being wicked enough) went roundly on, to that, wherein I see there was imperfection; but laid no hold at all, upon the rest, which was good.  
There was a Religious woman, at that time, and in that place, sick, of a very grievous infirmity, which put her to extreme pain; for she had certain Ulcers in her body, which grew from great obstructions; and thereby, did she discharge, whatsoever she took. She died quickly, of that disease; and whereas I found, that all the rest of our Community, had great apprehension, and fear, of the like; for my part, I had much envy at her patience; and I begged of Almighty God, that, in case I might be favoured by him, with that virtue, he would send me what sicknesses he should think fit; and I thought, I feared no disease in the world; for I was so bend, and set upon the gaining of eternal Happiness, that I resolved to compass it, how dear soever, it might cost. Nor yet, am I without wonder, even at this; for even then, I did not think, that I had wrought myself, into the love of Almighty God, as, afterwards, I conceived myself, to have it, upon my beginning, to frequent the use of Prayer. But only I was grown, to have a certain light, which shown me, how all things, which come to an end, deserve little esteem; and how those Blessings, which, being eternal, may be obtained, are of mighty value. His Divine Majesty, did also hear me, in this; for, before two years were expired, I grew to be, in such condition, that, howsoever my disease were not of that other sort, yet, I believe, that one, which I had, for three years together, was, not a whitt of less trouble, and torment to me, than that other was to her; as I shall now relate.  
The time being come, which I was expecting, in that place, where I declared myself to remain, with my Sister, for my better Cure, they carried me, with care enough, from the regalos of my Father, of my Sister, and of that Religious woman, my friend, who, formerly, was come away, with me; and, indeed, she loved me very much. And now here, did the Devil begin, to discompose my soul; though yet, Almighty God, drew much good from thence.  
There was a certain Churchman residing in that place (to which, I went, for cure) of very good quality, and understanding; and he was also, not unlearned. Now I began to Confess myself with him; for I was ever, a friend of learning; but yet, it did my soul much hurt, to meet with Ghostly Fathers, who were but indifferent in that kind; because they wanted, what Ineeded. And therefore, as for me, I have found by experience, that, when Ghostly Fathers, are virtuous men, and of holy conversation, it is better, that they have no learning at all, then but a little. Because, neither such as have none, are want to trust themselves, without ask the opinion of more learned men, than they are; neither should I also, trust them; and, for my part, I was never deceived, by any solid learned man; yea, and even those others also, would certainly, I think, not have deceived me, but only, perhaps, they erred, because they knew no better. Now, I thought, it was sufficient, and that I was bound to nothing, but to believe them, when that, which they taught me, was according to the more large opinion, and of more liberty; for, if they had been more restrained, I am so wicked, that I should have gone to others. But that, which was a Venial sin, they told me, was no sin at all; and that, which was a most grievous Mortal sin, they said was but Venial. This did me so much hurt, that it must not go for a strange thing, to hear me speak of it here, for the better advertisement of others, whom I would very fain save, from so great a mischief. For I see well, that in the presence of God, this was no discharge of me, from fault; for it ought to have been enough for me, that the things, were of themselves, not good, to make me preserve myself, wholly, from them. I believe, Almighty God permitted, for my sins, that both they should be deceived, and deceive me; as I, also, deceived many others, by telling them, that very thing, which I had been told. I continued, I think, in this blindness, more than seaventeen years, till a Father of S. Dominicks Order, a great learned man, unbeguiled me, in some things; and they, of the Society of JESUS, did so wholly terrify me, by agravating those ill begiuning, of mine; as I will shortly declare.  
But now, I confessing myself, to that other Ecclesiastical person, of whom I was speaking before, he grew to affect me, in extreme manner; because then, indeed, I had little to Confess, in comparison of what occurred afterwards; nay, I had not very much, from the time of my entering into Religion. The affection of this man, was not ill; but yet, by the excess theror, it grew to be, not good. He well understood already, that I would not resolve, upon any terms, to do any thing, which was grievously offensive to Almighty God; and he also assured me of as much, concerning himself; and so, our conversation grew to be frequent. But, in those times of conference, which we had, I was so fully possessed, and even swallowed-up, by the thoughts of Almighty God, that the greatest gust I had, was to be speaking of him; and I, being then, so very young, it put him to a kind of confusion, to see it; and through the great affection, which he bore me, he began to discover his own misery to me, which was not small; for they were then, almost seven years, that he had been in a very dangerous state, by his affection, and conversation, with a certain woman of the same town; when yet, he said Mass, all the while. Now, this was so public a thing, that he had, already, lost his honour, and fame; and yet no body, adventured to speak against it: Neither did I, think fit to do it, though I were much troubled, to see, in what case he was; because I loved him much. For I had this part of folly, and blindness, that even here, I thought it fit, to be grateful, and to keep fair quarter, with one, whom I loved. But cursed be that quarter, and way of proceeding, which extends itself, so far, as to be against the law of God. This is a very mad kind of error, which is used now, so much, in the world; and it puts me; almost, out of my wits, to see, that we should owe, all that goodness, which men do us, to the goodness of God; & yet, that we should esteem it, for a virtue, not to break this friendship with men, though it should offer to carry us away, against him. O strange blindness of the world! O, that thou wouldst be pleased, to let me be, the most ungrateful creature, that lives, towards the said whole world, so that yet, I were not ungrateful, to the least hairs breadth, against thee. But, alas, I have proceeded very contrarily, to this course, whereof I speak, in punishment, of my other sins.  
I procured, in the mean time, to inform myself, concerning this man, by means of the domestics of his house; and so I came, to understand more, of his misery; but yet, I found withal, that the poor soul was not altogether so extremely faulty, as men thought; because, that wretched woman, had bewitched him, by a certain little Idol of copper, which she had prayed him to wear about his neck, for love of her; and no body had been of power enough, to make him leave it. For my part, I confess, I cannot believe the business of such witchcrafts, as this, in any express, and determinate manner; but yet, I will relate, what I saw, for the better advising men, to take heed of all women, who proceed in such sort, as this; And, to the end, that men may believe, that, when women come to lose the shame of God, and the world (for they are, even more obliged, to be honest, and chaste, than men) there is no trust at all, to be reposed in them; for, so that they may have their wills, and that the love, which the Devil plants in them, may not be crossed, they never care, what they do. But as for me, though I had been very wicked, yet I never fell into any thing of this nature; nor ever pretended to do ill; no, nor, if I should have been able, would I ever yet have forced any body, to affect me. Our Lord kept me always from this; whereas, if ever he had left me to myself, I should certainly, have done as ill, in this kind, as in other; for, in me, there was no trust to be had. But now, when I came to understand this story, I began to show him more affection. My intention, indeed, was good heerin, but yet my action, faulty; for, I should not have committed the least ill, for the obtaining of the greatest good, that could be thought. I discoursed to him, very ordinarily, of Almighty God, which, perhaps, might do him some good; though yet, I am more apt to think, that the great affection, which he bore me, was the thing, which wrought more vehemently upon him; for, to do me a very great pleasure, he gave me his little Idol, which I instantly caused, to be cast into the river. After this, he began quickly (like some man, who had been awaked, out of a profound sleep) to go recovering, and remembering all that, which he had done, in those past years, and to be amazed at himself; and so, bewailing his misery, he came, by those degrees, to abhor it. Our B. Lady, without all question, assisted him much; for he was very particularly devoted to her Immaculate Conception; and his custom ever was, to celebrate that Festivitie, with great joy. In fine, he utterly gave over, so much as once, to see that woman any more; and could never satisfy himself, with thanking Almighty God very much, for the light, which he vouchsafed to give him. And so, just upon that day twelvemonth, when I had known him first, he died. But, already, he was grown, to serve Almighty God, in very serious manner; and, though I never could perceive, that the great affection, which he bore me, was ill, yet it might have been more pure; and so also, there was no want of occasions, wherein, if the presence, and assistance of God, had not been close at hand, his Divine Majesty might have been much offended. But, whatsoever I might then, have conceived to be Mortal sin, I would, certainly, not have committed it; and even his seeing that disposition in me, might, perhaps, make him love me the better. For, all men, I believe, are more the friends of those women, whom they see inclined to Virtue; yea, and even, for those other things, to which they pretended, such women gain more, upon such men; as I shall declare afterward. But I hold it for very certain, that his soul is in the way of salvation; for he died very well; and being grown so free from that occasion, it seems, our Lord was pleased, that he should be saved, by this means.  
I remained in that place, three months, with extreme affliction; for, the Cure was, by much, too hard, for my complexion; and so, at the end of two months of those three, the roughness of those remedies, did even, as it were, make an end of my very life; and withal, the rigour of my hartssicknesse, of which I went to be cured, was grown to be much more fierce; in such sort, that, now and then, it seemed to me, as if my very hart, had been pierced, and penetrated, with sharp teeth; so that they were afraid, I would run mad. By this great loss, and want of strength, (for I was able, to take no food at all, except it were liquid, and that, suddenly) I had a continual burning Fever, and I was totally consumed; for they had daily given me a Purge, for almost a whole month together; and indeed, I was even so burnt up, that my sinews began, all, to shrink; and this, with so insupportable torments, that I could not take any rest, either by day, or night; and all this while, I was also oppressed, with a most profound sadness of mind.  
With such a kind of gain, in point of health, as this, my Father brought me back to his house, where the Physicians came to visit me again; and they all, gave me utterly over; for they said, that, besides all the rest, I was settled in a Hectic Fever. But this troubled me, very little; for that, which afflicted me, was the sharp, and bitter pain, which never gave me over, burr vexed me, even all alike, from head to foot. For, the torment of the sinews, is a kind of intolerable thing, as the Doctors affirm; and especially, when they all shrink up, as mine did; and certainly, if I had not lost the merit of it, through mine own fault, the torment was strong enough, to have entitled me to it.  
I continued not, above three months, in this rage of pain; but it seemed, even a kind of impossible thing for me, to endure such a heap of afflictions, all, together. And now, I am even amazed at myself, and I hold it for a great favour of our Lord, to consider the patience, which his Divine Majesty was pleased to give me; for it was evident, that it came from him. It assisted me also much, towards the having this patience, that I had read the history of job, in the Morals of S. Gregory; and our Lord seems to have prevented me so, by that means; as also with having begun, so to use Prayer, as that I might be able to carry my pain, with much conformity, to his holy will. The conversation of my hart, was wholly with him; and I carried these words of job, very usually, both in my thought, and in my mouth: Since we have received blessings, and benefits, at the hand of our Lord; why should we not also, suffer afflictions? And I conceived, that this, holp to give me courage.  
At length, came the Feast of our B. Lady, in August; for, till then, from the April before, had my torment continued; though yet it had been greater, in the three last months. I than made haste, to go to Confession; for, I ever took much contentment, to Confess often. My friends thought, that it was fear of death, which invited me, to be so devout; and so, to the end, that I might not be put into apprehension, my Father would not let me Confess. O inordinate, and irregular love, of flesh, and blood; since, though I had so Catholic a Father, and so full of prudence, and consideration, in all his actions, which even abounded in him, (for, this could not be an effect of ignorance) yet he might have done me hurt enough, by this means. That night, I fell into such a Trance, as continued to keep me, near four days, without the use, almost, of any of my senses; and shortly, they came to give me the Sacrament of Extreme Unction; and every hour, or rather every moment, it was expected, when I should expire, they being as diligent in saying the Creed 
a Many use to repeat the Creed, in the presence, and as in the person, of such, as are near expiring; by way of fortifying them, at that time, against the temptations of the Devil.  in my hearing, as if I had understood them; yea sometimes they held me for so certainly to be dead, that afterwards, I found the drops, of the holy 
b When persons are near expiring, attendants use to be very near them, with hallowed Candles.  Wax-candles, about mine eyes. The affliction of my Father, was great, for his not having permitted me to go to Confession. Many outcries, and many prayers, were made to Almighty God, for me; and blessed be he, who was pleased to hear them; for, the Grave remaining open, in the Church of my Monastery, a day and a half, where my body was expected, to be interred; and my Funeral, having been already celebrated, by the Religious men of our Order, in another town, where it was conceived, that I was dead, our Lord was yet pleased at length, that I should teturne to myself; and so instantly. I would needs go to confession. I received also the B. Sacrament, with many tears; though yet, in my opinion, they were not shed, with that sense, and grief, for only my having offended Almighty God; which might have served, to save my soul, if the error, into which I was brought, by them, who had told me, that they were not matters of mortal sin, (which afterward I saw plainly, that they were) might not serve my turn. For, the torments, wherewith I remained, were intolerable; and my understanding not very sharp, but rather dull; though yet (as I conceived) my Confession were entire, of all things, whereby I might think, that I had offended God. For, this mercy, did his Divine Majesty vouchsafe to allow me, amongst others, that, after I had once begun to receive the B. Sacrament, I never omitted to Confess any thing, which I conceived to be a sin, though it were but Venial; Though yet still, me thinks, that, without doubt, my soul might have run hazard, not to be saved, if I had died then; in regard, that, on the one side, my Ghostly Fathers had been so meanly learned; and, on the other side, and indeed, on many sides, in regard, that, in myself, I was so wicked.  
But this is always a most certain truth, that, when I return to a thought of this passage, and consider, how it seems, as if our Lord had raised me again, from death to life, I am filled with so huge an amazement, that I remain, even as it were, all quaking, within myself. And now, me thinks, it were well, O my soul, that thou wouldst gather this just resolution, from that great danger, out of which, it pleased our Lord, to deliver thee; that, although thou wouldst not fly from offending his Divine Majesty, for Love, yet, at least, thou shouldst forbear to do it, for Fear. For he might have taken thy life from thee, a thousand times, when thou wert in a more dangerous state; and I think, that I should not say too much, if I did speak of a thousand times more; though he, perhaps, may chide me, who commanded me to use moderation, in the recital of my sins; and yet I doubt, that I have painted them out, too favourably, and fair. But I beg of him, for the love of our Lord, that he will not once think, of making me diminish my faults; because the magnificence of Almighty God, is to be discerned thereby, and how much he is pleased to suffer, and endure, from a soul. Let him be Blessed for ever; and let it also please his Divine Majesty, that he may rather consume me quite, then that I should ever leave to love him more.   

THE sixth CHAPTER.  
She treats, of how much she owed our B. Lord, for his giving her, Conformity, to his holy will, in so great afflictions; And how she took the glorious S. joseph, for her Intercessor; and how advantageous, that Devotion proved to be.  
I Remained, during those four days of Agony, or Trance, in such state, that only our B. Lord is able to know, the unsufferable torments, which I felt in myself. My tongue was deeply bitten by me, in many places. My throat, with having taken nothing, and by reason also of my very great weakness, could not swallow, so much as a drop of water, without choking. Me thought, I was totally disjointed; and my head, in extreme disorder. I was also, as it were, all rolled up, and contracted, as if I had been a Bottom of Packthridd; for, in this, did the torments of those days fix themselves, without my being able, once to stir, either hand, or foot; arm, or head; (unless they moved me) any more, then as if I had been dead. Only, I think, I was able to wag one single fingar of my right hand. Now, for any body to touch me, in any kind, there was no means at all; for, my whole person, was so affected, and afflicted, as that there was no enduring, to have it touched. In a sheet, they would be removing me, now, and then, according to the occasion, with one, at one end thereof, & another, at the other; and this lasted, till Easter. Only this I had, by way of ease, that, if I were not approached, and touched, these torments would be ceasing, many times; and then, upon the account of my being in less pain, I was content, to affirm myself to be well. But indeed I was much afraid, lest my patience should begin to fail me; and therefore, I was not a little pleased, to find myself, without those sharp, and continual torments; though yet I had them, after an unsupportable manner; together with a very great detestation of food, whilst I had those fierce colds, (which, indeed, were extremely fierce) of a double Quartane, which I was also, then, grown to have. About this time, I made so very great haste, to return to the Monastery, that I got myself to be carried away, as I was. And they received her, whom they expected for dead, with a soul, which was yet in the body; but the body itself, worse than dead, through the pain they saw, it endured. The great, extremity of my weakness, cannot be related; for I had nothing left, but my skin, and bones; and I must say, that I continued thus, above eight months; for I was directly a Cripple, (though yet I were then, on the mending hand) upon the very point of three years. When now, I began to go upon all four, I thanked God, as for a good degree of amendment. But I passed through all these afflictions, with great comformity, to the holy will of Almighty God; yea, and (unless it were in the very beginnings) with much alacrity, and joy. For I esteemed it all, as nothing, being compared with those pains, and torments, wherein I had been before; and I was wholly resigned then, to God's holy will, although he should have left me in that state, for ever. I am of opinion, that all the anxiety of my desire, to recover, was only, that I might apply myself to Prayer, all alone, as I had been instructed; but for this, there was no means, in the infirmary. I Confessed my sins very often; I spoke with them, much, of God; in such sort, as that it edified them all; and indeed, they were amazed to see the patience, which our Lord imparted to me. For, if it had not come, from the hand of his Divine Majesty, it seemed a kind of impossible thing, to endure such a deal of torment, with so much contentment.  
A point of great moment, that favour was, which our B. Lord had vouchsafed to do me, by giving me Prayer; for, this, made me come to know, what it was to love him; and from that little time, which I spent therein, I found these virtues to be grown up, fresh in me; though yet, they were not strong, nor able to hold me upright, in strict account. I spoke not ill of any Creature, how little soever it might be; but my ordinary custom, was, to avoid all manner of detraction; for I, always, had this thought present with me, that I was never to wish, nor to say, any such thing, of any Creature, as I would not have them say of me; and I took this, so extremely to hart, in all such occasions, as might occur (though yet, not still, so very perfectly, when sometimes, any great occasion was offered me, to break my Rule) that this was my constant use; and I persuaded such, as were wont to be much in my company, and conversation, so earnestly to this practice, that it grew, also, up, with them, into custom. By this means, it came to be commonly understood, that wheresoever I chanced to be, all absent persons were safe; and so were they also much more conceived to be, when any of my near friends, or kindred, or others, whom I had instructed, were concerned. Though, in other things, I have a great account to make to Almighty God, for the ill example, which I gave them. I beseech his Divine Majesty, to forgive those many ill things, whereof I have been cause; howsoever, I was not so, with so wicked intentions, as the actions succeeded ill, afterward.  
I still remained with great liking, to enjoy Solitude; and I also loved, in particular manner, to discourse, and treat of things, concerning Almighty God; and if still, I could find, with whom; that, gave me more contentment, and even recreation, than all the politenes, or rather, I think, I may say, grossness, of the conversation of the world could do; and I loved to Confess, and Communicate oftener, than I had done; and to desire it much; and to be extremely affected, with reading good Books; and to have so extraordinary a sorrow, for having offended Almighty God, that many times, I remember, how I durst not adventure, to put myself into Prayer; because I feared that excessive pain, which I was sure I should feel, in the quality of a great punishment, for my offences. And this, grew afterward, to such an extremity, that I know not, to what, in fine, I may well compare this torment. But now, this never happened to me, either more or less, for any fear at all, but only when I remembered those regaloes, which our Lord had been pleased, to vouchsafe me, in my Prayer; and the very much, that I owed his Divine Majesty, for those high Favours; and when I saw, how ill I paid him, for all his goodness, I was no longer able to endure it. Yea, and I found myself also, extremely offended with myself, even for the many tears, which I shed, for the fault, when I saw the so little amendment, which I made; whilst, neither my resolutions, nor the pain, and care, wherein I was, not to fall back again, when once the occasion should be offered, were sufficient to stay me. For then, even my very teats, would seem deceitful to my very self; and my fault would also appear, so much the fowler, because I saw the great favour, which our Lord was pleased to do me, by imparting those tears to mine eyes, and so great repentance to my hart. I procured also to Confess myself often; and so, in my opinion, I did what I could, on my part, to restore myself, to the state of grace.  
But, all my misery, indeed, consisted, in that I plucked not the occasions of Sin, up, by the root; and partly also, in those Ghostly Fathers, who assisted me little; for if they had once directly declared to me, the danger, wherein I was, from time to time; and that I was in obligation, not to have passed my hours, in such conversations, I am very confidently persuaded, that, all, would have been quickly redressed; for I should never have endured, to pass one day, in Mortal sin, if I had understood the case.  
All these signs, and hopes, of my endeavouring, to fear, and serve Almighty God, were come to me, by means of Prayer; and the greatest of them all, was, that I walked, as it were, all wrapped up, in love; for, as for the punishment of sin, it never once appeared before me. All the while, that I was so sick, I continued to keep a very close guard, upon my Conscience; for as much as might concern Mortal Sinne. But, O my dear Lord, how vehemently did I desire, to be restored to my health, that I might procure to serve thee, so much the better; whereas yet, in very deed, it was the occasion of all my misery. But now, when I found myself so lame, and even such a Cripple, and that, whilst I was yet so very young, and how the Physicians of this world, had dressed me, and to what state, they had brought me, I resolved, that I would apply myself, to those of the other, to the end, that they might cure me; for I still desired to recover my health, though yet I endured my sickness, with great alacrity. And I would be thinking, and considering sometimes, that if, by enjoying my health, I might chance be damned, it would be better for me, to remain still, as sick as I was; but howsoever, I conceived, that I should be able, to serve Almighty God, much better, if I could enjoy my health. Now, this is the abuse, and error, which deceives us, not to resign ourselves entirely, to the disposition, and good pleasure, of our Lord; who knows best, what is fit for us. But, in the mean time, I got many Masses said, for this purpose; and I resorted also, to the use of other solid, and approved Prayers; for I was never a friend of certain odd devotions, which are used by divers persons, and especially by women; with some odd Ceremonies, which I could never endure, since I understood, that they savoured of Superstition; howsoever other folks were moved by them. And so. I took, for my Advocate, and Lord, the Glorious S. joseph; and I recommended myself much, to him; and I have seen clearly, that this Father, and Lord of mine, hath drawn me, as well out of this necessity, as out of other greater; when there was question of Honour, and Loss of the Soul; and that, with more benefit, and advantage, then even myself could tell, how to desire. Nay, I cannot remember, that hitherto I ever desired any thing, by his means, which he hath failed to obtain for me; and it is able, even to amaze me, when I consider the great Favours, which Almighty God hath done me, by means of this Blessed Saint; and the dangers, both of Body, and Soul, out of which, he hath delivered me. In such sort, as that it seems, our Lord hath given the grace, and power, to other Saints, to succour men, in some one kind of necessity of theirs; but I find, by good experience, that this glorious Saint, succours us, in them all; and that our Lord will make us understand, that as he would be subject to S. joseph, upon earth, and that (by enjoying the name, of his Father, and by being, as it were, his Director, and Tutor,) he might command him: so also he would now, in Heaven, grant, whatsoever this Saint should desire. This truth, hath also been seen, by the experience of others, whom I have desired, to recommend themselves to this Saint; and now, many are grown to be devoted to him; and myself also, have fresh experience of this truth.  
For my part, I procured to celebrate his Festivitie, with all the solemnity, I was able to use; but yet, with more vanity, then true spirit; desiring, that it might be performed, with much curiosity, and exactness; though yet still, with good intention. But I ever had this, of ill; That if our Lord enabled me, at any time, to do any thing, which was good, it would be full of imperfections, and faults; whereas, towards the doing any thing amiss, and for the exercising of curiosity, and vanity, I used much diligence, and dexterity, and cunning; our Lord pardon me for it. And now, I would fain persuade all the world, to be devoted to this glorious Saint, for the great experience, which I have had, of the blessings, that he obtains for us, of Almighty God; nay, I have never known any one, who is seriously devoted to him, and performs him particular services, whom I find not also, to go proceeding on, in virtue; for really, he assists those souls much, which recommend themselves to him. And to my best remembrance, there are divers years, wherein I have desired somewhat of him, upon his Festival Day, and I have ever found it granted; and if, peradventure, my petition had some little of the indirect, belonging to it, he redressed it, and set it straight, for my greater good.  
If I were any such person, as had authority to write, I would gladly enlarge myself here, to make particular relation, of the Favours, which this glorious Saint hath obtained, both for me, and others; but, to the end, that I may do no more, than I am commanded, I must be shorter, in many things, than I would; and more large in others, then is needful; like one, in fine, who hath little discretion, for the doing of any thing, which is good. Only I beg, for the love of Almighty God, that, whosoever can believe me, will try the truth, of what I say; for he shall find by experience, how greatly a good thing it is, to recommend himself, to this glorious Patriarch, and to be devoted to him. Especially such, as give themselves to Prayer, should always be affectionate to this Saint; for I know not, how, one can think of the Queen of the Angels, at those times, when she suffered so much, during the Infancy of our Lord jesus; and not give thanks to S. joseph, for the great assistance, which he gave them, at that time. Whosoever wants a Master, who might instruct him to pray, let him take this glorious Saint, for his guide; and he shall never lose his way.  
I beseech our Lord, that I may have committed no error, in presuming to speak of this Saint; for though I thus profess, and publish myself, to be devoted to him; yet have I been ever faulty, in the not doing him real services, and in not imitating his virtues. But now, he did like himself, by procuring, that I might be able, to rise, and walk, and be no longer a Cripple; and so I did also like myself, in making so ill use of this favour.  
But now, who would ever have imagined, that I could so soon, fall back again, after my receiving so many regaloes, at the hands of Almighty God; and after his Divine Majesty, had vouchsafed to give me some Virtues, which (even, as it were, of themselves) did awake, and stir me up, to his service; and after I had seen myself, even, as it were, dead, and in so imminent danger, to be condemned to Hell; and after he had raised me again, both in Body, and Soul, in such sort, that all they, who saw me, were even amazed to find, that I could, so long, be alive. But, what is this, O my Lord, and my God? Is this life to be still, so dangerous which we are to live?  
Even now, whilst I am writing this, me thinks, that, by this favour, and mercy, I might be able to say with S. Paul, (though yet, not with such perfection, as he said it) that now, It is not I, who live; but thou, O my Creator, who livest in me; according to the experience; which I have had some years, by that little, which I am able to understand of myself; and still thou holdest, and keepest thy hand over me; and I find myself, full of desires, and good purposes; and, in some sort, I have proved also (even by experience of many things, in these late years) that I would, by no means, do any thing, which should contradict, or cross thy will, how little soever it might be; though yet, I well believe, that I commit many offences, against thy Divine Majesty, even without my understanding it. And it also seems to me, that there could not, so hard a thing be set before me, which I would not execute, for love of thee, with great resolution; and sometimes, thou hast so assisted me therein, as that such things have taken effect; and, for my part, I care not, a whitt, for the whole world; no, nor for any creature, which is in it; nor can I find, that any thing at all, gives me gust, which swerves from thee; and every thing, which is not thou, seems no less, than a very heavy cross to my hart.  
Yet I may easily deceive myself heerin; and so, I think, I do; for, I doubt, that I possess not all this, whereof I speak; but yet thou seest well, O my Lord (forasmuch as I am able to understand) that I do not lie. And I am fearing, and that with very much reason, that, perhaps, thou mayst yet, leave me once again; for I am not now to be told, how short a way, mine own strength, is able to carry, and conduct me; and how little virtue I have, in case thou be not ever, at hand, to allow me thy benedictions, and succours; to the end, that so, I may never forsake thee; yea, and I beseech thy Divine Majesty, that even now, I be not already forsaken by thee, whilst yet I am thinking thus, of myself.  
For my part, I know not, how we can desire to live, since all things are so uncertain here. It seemed to me, O my Lord, to be already even an impossible thing, that I should, so entirely, forsake thee; but since I have forsaken thee so often, I cannot but fear the like again; because, when thou hast retired thyself, never so little, from me, all fell instantly down to the ground. Blessed be thou for ever, O Lord; for, howsoever I forsook thee, thou wouldst not yet, so entirely, forsake me; but that still, thou gavest me thy hand, that so I might be able, to rise again; though many times, O Lord, I would not take hold by it; nor would I understand, how thou vouchsafedst to call me again, very often; as I will now declare.   

THE SEAVENTH CHAPTER.  
She shows, by what degrees, and means, she went losing the favour, which our Lord had done her; and how ill, she began to live. And she also declares the harm there is, in not maintaining Clausure, in the Monasteries of Religious women.  
I Began, from one pastime, to another; from one vanity, to another; and from one occasion, to another, to cast myself deeply, into very great occasions; and to carry my soul so disordered, upon many absurdities, that already, I grew even ashamed, to approach towards God, with so particular a kind of friendship, and familiarity, as frequent Prayer requires; and I was forwarded in that ill way, by this, That as my sins grew to be increasing, the gust, which I had taken, and the regalo, which I had received, from the exercise of virtue, began to fail me. I perceived very clearly, O my Lord, that these good things are wanting to me now, because I had first been wanting to thee. But yet, this was, in the mean time, the most terrible cozening kind of wrong, which the Devil could possibly put upon me, when he made me begin, to fear, to make Prayer; because, forsooth, I saw myself so destroyed; and, me thought, it was better for me, to proceed, as the multitude did, since I was amongst the worst of them, who are wicked; and to pray, but as much, as I was bound; and that, but vocally; and that a person, who deserved to be with the Devil, was not to use Mental Prayer, and to hold so straight commerce, with Almighty God; and that, if I did, I should but seek, to deceive the world; because exteriorly, I made show of virtue. Yet, in the mean time, upon this reason, the House, wherein I lived, did deserve no blame, at all; because I procured, with so much cunning, and craft, all that while, that they should have me, in good opinion. Neither did I all this, of set purpose, by counterfeiting a better Soul, than I had; for, touching this point of Hypocrisy, and Vainglory, I humbly thank Almighty God, that I remember not myself, to have offended him therein, for aught I can perceive; for, upon the very first approach of motion, to commit that kind of sin, I ever received, and felt, so much trouble, that the Devil was want to go away with loss, and I remained with gain; and therefore, he would never tempt me much, in this kind; though yet perhaps, if God had permitted him to endeavour it, as strongly in this, as he did in some other things, I should also have fall'n into this sin. But his Divine Majesty hath been pleased hitherto, to preserve me heerin; for which, let him be eternally praised. Nay, rather it troubled me much, that they should hold me, in good opinion, considering, what I knew, in private, of myself. The true reason, of their believing me, not to be so wicked, proceeded from this, That they saw me, being so young, to retire myself, many times, and upon several occasions, to Solitude; and to pray, and read much; and talk of God; That I loved to make the picture of our Blessed Saviour, be set up, in many places; and to have an Oratory; and to procure, to put such things there, as might cause devotion; and not to speak ill, of any; and other things also of this nature, which carried a kind of appearance of virtue, with them; and I knew well enough (so vain I was) how to win esteem, for myself, by those things, which the world is wont to prize.  
Upon these observations of theirs, they allowed me as much, yea and more, liberty, then to the more ancient Religious women of the House; and they were confident of me, in all things; for, as for my taking liberties to myself, or to do any thing at all, without leave, yea, or to speak with any body, in corners, or holes, or by night, me thinks, I could never have resolved myself, even so much, as to talk of any such thing, as this, in a Monastery; neither did I ever so; because our Lord held me up, in his hand. For it seemed to me, (who reflected much, and with much attention, upon many things) that, to put the honour of so many Religious women, in hazard, whilst they were good, because I was wicked, had been a very unworthy part in me; as yet perhaps I should have done, by making strangers think, that they used also, to do the like. But why do I speak of my avoiding to do ill things, as if any thing which I did, had been well done? Though yet, the truth be withal, that the evil which I did, was not performed by me, with so much reflection, and advertence, as this, would have required; though yet it were, with too much. For this reason, I am of opinion, that it brought me hurt enough, that I was in a Monastery, not enclosed. Which they, who were good, might well enjoy, without any disadvantage to their goodness; because they owed no more, since they did not promise Clausure; but as for me, who am wicked, it would certainly have carried me down to Hell; unless our Lord had drawn me, out of this danger, by very many remedies, and means, and most particular favours. And so, me thinks, a Monastery of women, with liberty, exposes them, to very great hazard; and rather appears in mine eye, as a way, whereby they, who have a mind to be wicked, may walk on, towards Hell, then as a remedy for their weakness. I mean not this, by my Monastery; for therein, are so many, who serve our Lord, so much in earnest, and with so great perfection, that his Divine Majesty, through his goodness, cannot fail, of doing them favour. Neither is this Monastery also, of the most open, and dis-enclosed; and besides, all good Religious Order, is observed in it; but I speak, what I was speaking, of others, which I know, and have seen. I say therefore, that those others, give me cause, to have great compassion of them; for they have need of particular motions, and calls, from our Lord; and not once, but very often; that so, they may be saved; considering, how much the honours, and recreations of the world, are now grown to be authorized; and how little, such, as they are, vnderstand the very much, to which they are obliged. So that I beseech God, they hold not that, sometimes, for virtue, which is sin; as myself did often; yea, and there is so great difficulty, in making this, be well understood, that there is need of no less, then that our Blessed Lord himself, should seriously, put his hand to the work.  
If Fathers would take my counsel (since they will not procure, to put their Daughters, where they may walk in the way of salvation, but rather be in more danger, than they should, perhaps, have met with, in the world) I would advise them, at least, to consider their own honour; and rather to marry them very meanly, then to put them into such Monasteries, as those, unless they be very virtuously inclined; yea, and I pray God, that even this, may serve the turn. Yea, or else, let them rather continue them, in their own houses; for if they will needs be wicked, it cannot be there, kept private, but for a very short time; but here, it may be long concealed, though yet, in the end, our Lord is ever wont, to discover it; and then, they do not only hurt themselves, but also the rest; and sometimes, those poor Creatures have the less fault, because they do but that, which they find in use. But still, it is matter of much compassion, to see many, who have really a mind, to forsake all, and conceive, that they go to serve our Lord, and to fly from the dangers of this world, do yet, by this means, grow, to embark themselves, in ten worlds, all, together; where they know not, what to do, or how to help themselves. For, youth, and sensuality, and, in fine, the Devil, both invites them, and inclines them, to follow somethings, which do altogether belong to a world; and so, in effect, they come to hold them good. Me thinks, in this, they are like those miserable, and wretched men, the Heretics; who first make themselves blind, and then give themselves to understand, that those opinions, which they follow, are good, and so they come to believe them, to be true; though yet, indeed, and upon the matter, they believe them not; for, in their hearts, there is somewhat, which tells them still, that it is naught.  
O great misery! I say, O extreme great misery of Religious persons; (and I speak not here of women now, more than of men) where Religious Observance, is not kept; and where, in one, and the self same Monastery, two ways are held: One of Virtue, and Religious Life; and another, which is utterly in want thereof; and where they all, go, as it were, equally, hand in hand. Or rather, I said ill, when I said, equally; for it uses to happen so, for our Sins, that the more imperfect, make up the greater number; and so, as they use to be more, they use to be also more favoured. And true Religious Observance is wont to be so rare, in those places, that as well that Religious man, as that Religious woman, who shall have a mind, to give themselves wholly, and in good earnest, to follow their Vocation, and Rule, will have cause, to be in more fear of the rest of the Religious of their own House, then of all the Devils in Hell. Yea, and they will need to use more caution, and dissimulation, in speaking of that intercourse, and friendship, which such persons should procure to hold, with Almighty God, then of other inclinations, and friendships, which the Devil finds means, sometimes, to bring into Monasteries. I can therefore meet with no reason, why we should be amazed, to see so many miseries in the Church, since they, who ought to be Patterns for others, (that so, all men might grow to be virtuous, by their example) have totally blotted out, that Work, which the Spirit of the Saints, in old time, left registered in our Religious Orders. And I humbly beseech his Divine Majesty, that he will be pleased, to give such remedy, to these mischiefs, as he knows best, to be needful; Amen.  
But, in the mean time, when I began to use such conversations as these, I little thought, that so great distractions, and other damages, would grow to my Soul, by that kind of proceeding, when I saw, they were so much used by others; and I conceived, that so general a thing, as it is, for Secular people, to make Visits to the Religious, in many Monasteries, would be of no greater prejudice to me, than it was to others, whom I saw, to be virtuous, and good. But I considered not, the while, that those others, were much more virtuous, than myself; and that those things, which were of much danger to me, were not, perhaps, of so very much, to them; though yet, I fear, it be of some; and, at the best hand, I am sure enough, that it is no better, than time very ill employed, and spent. And, being once with a certain person, our Lord was pleased to give me to understand, in the very beginning of my acquaintance with her, that such friendships would be, no way, convenient for me; and to give me also advise, and light, in so great a darkness, as that was. For, Christ our Lord represented himself before me, with much rigour, and gave me well to understand, how greatly he was disgusted at my proceeding. I saw him only, with the eyes of my Soul; but yet, much more distinctly, and more clearly, than I could possibly have done, with the eyes of my Body; and he remained so deeply imprinted there, that although it happened to me, above six and twenty years ago, me thinks, he is still as present to me now, as he was then; But I am sure, I remained so altered, yea and so astonished, that I intended to see that person no more.  
It did me a great deal of hurt, that I knew not, at that time, that it was possible for one to see any thing, but with the eyes of the Body; and the Devil was careful enough, to continue me, in that erroneous opinion, and to make me still believe, that it was impossible; and therefore, that I had but fancied certain things, to myself; and that, perhaps, it might be a work of the Devil. And he brought many suggestions, like this, upon me; though yet still, I were very confidently of opinion, that it was God, and no conceit, or fancy, at all; but yet still, because it induced me to do things, which were against my gust, I did the best I could, even to belie my very self. And forasmuch, as I durst not confer with any body, about this particular, and found myself also extremely importuned afterward, and was wished to be assured, that it could not be ill done, to see such a person as that, and that there would be no loss of honour by it, but rather gain, I returned to enjoy the same conversation; yea, and also, at other times, I conversed, in like manner, with others; for they were many years, wherein I took this pestilential recreation; and when once, I was far embarked therein, it seemed not to me, to be so very ill, as yet, indeed, it was; though still, it be very true, that sometimes I discerned clearly enough, that it was not good. But yet, no other conversation distracted me so much, as this, in particular, did; by reason of the great affection, which I bore to the party.  
But, myself being afterwards again, with the same person, we, both of us, saw coming towards us (and there were others also present, who saw it too) a certain thing, which had the manner of a great Toad; and it pressed, and passed on, with very much more speed, than such creatures use to have. For my part, I was not able to conceive, how such a filthy Beast as that, should get into that room, through that part, from whence it came; and even, as it were, at Noon day; nor had ever any such thing, been seen there. The effect, which it wrought with me, seems, not to have been void, of some mystery; and this also, was a thing, which I could never forget. But, O greatness of Almighty God with how much care, & pity, wert thou admonishing me, in so many kinds, and by so many ways; & how little did I permit, that all these warnings should help?  
There was also there, at that time, a certain Religious woman of my kindred; and she was ancient, and a great servant of God, and of much discipline in her Religious Order. She also, would sometimes, be giving me good counsel; but I did not only not believe her, but was also disgusted with her; as conceauing, that she would needs take scandal at me, without cause.  
And this I here relate, to the end, that both my wickedness, and the great goodness of Almighty God, may be the better understood; and that it may be known, how well I deserved Hell, for my great ingratitude; and I do it also, to this end, that if our Lord may so ordain, & be pleased, that any Religious women may fall upon reading this Discourse, they may be brought to be careful, to take warning by me; and I beg of them, that, for the love of our Lord, they will take heed of such recreations, as these. And I beseech his Divine Majesty, that some one of them, may be disabused, whom I have deceived, when I told them, that it was not ill; and when (being in such blindness, at that time) I procured, to assure them, that there was no danger at all; and in regard also, that, by the ill example, which I gave gave them, (as I have related here) I was a cause to them, of great mischief, whilst yet I thought not, that I did so much hurt; and though also, it be certain, that I had no design at all, to deceive them.  
But now, even whilst I was yet much indisposed, in the way of health, both concerning Body, and Mind; and so, before I was able to help myself, in either kind, I grew into an extreme desire, to do others good; which is a very ordinary temptation, for new beginners; though yet, it happened now to succeed well, with me. And considering, how dearly I loved my Father, I wished him the self same benefit, which I conceived myself to have gotten, and gained, by means of Mental Prayer; and esteeming, that, in this life, there was no greater blessing, then to obtain, and enjoy that gift, I began, by certain ways of discourse, to procure, the best I could, that he would endeavour to obtain it; and I gave him certain Books, for this purpose. Now, he, being a man of so much virtue, as I have already declared, grew to settle himself, so very well, in this exercise, that he came, within five or six years, (for so long, I think, it was) to be so well improved, and advanced therein, that I blessed our Lord much, for the favour; and it gave me an extreme consolation. The troubles, and crosses, which he endured, were very great, and of many kinds; and he passed through them all, with much conformity, to the will of our Lord. He came to see me often; and was greatly comforted, to treat of Spiritual things. And when now I lived so distracted, and diffused, without using Mental Prayer, and saw withal, that he conceived me, to be still the very same, that I had been before, I was not able to endure, to live, without undeceaving him; for I had, then, been a year, and more, without Mental Prayer, as thinking it more humility for me, to abstain; and this (as I shall declare afterwards) was the greatest, and worst temptation, that ever I had; for, by this means, Iranne headlong, upon my total ruin; whereas, when I frequented Prayer, if I offended God, one day, I returned to recollect myself, upon another; and so, to absent myself from the occasion.  
But that blessed man, my Father, coming to see me, in such state as this, it was too much for me (as I was saying) to let him walk on, so far in error, as to think, that I still conversed with God, in Prayer, as formerly I had done; and so I told him then, that I did no longer use Mental Prayer; though yet, I did not tell him, the cause thereof; but I alleged my infirmities, for the reason; and that, although I were recovered of the main sickness, I had yet diseases, yea and very great ones, still; and that, although, of late, they had not assaulted me, with so very great fierceness, as before, yet they failed not, still to continue, and to exercise me also, in many kinds. In particular, that I had certain vomits, for twenty years together, every morning, in such sort, as that I could never break my fast, till Noon, was past; yea and sometimes, not so soon. And since, of late, I am grown able to receive the B. Sacrament more often, it proceeds from this, that these vomits come to me, at night, before I go to bed, and they put me to much more pain; and then, I must procure to hasten, and facilitate them, by the use of feathers, and such other things; because, if I have not those vomits, the sickness, which I feel, is extreme. But indeed, I am, me thinks, almost never, without many kinds of pain; and sometimes, they are very sharp ones; and especially, at my very hart; though yet withal, it be also true, that the cruel Palsy, and other infirmities of Fevers, which were wont to come very thick upon me, are now found, to oppress me more seldom; so that many times, I am well, in those respects; and I have made so little account of these miseries, for these eight years together, that sometimes I am even glad, I have them; as conceauing, that our Lord may be, peradventure, served, in some sort, thereby. This was my discourse. And now, my Father believed, that this, which I told him here, was, indeed, the true cause of my omission, for, himself never used to lie; and considering, in what sort, and, of what matter, I was then discoursing to him, he had no reason to think, but that I said true; and, to the end, that he might believe me the better, I told him also then, that I well saw myself, not to be without some fault; and that I had enough to do, to be able to assist in the Choir; though yet, in very deed, even this reason of corporal sickness, was no sufficient cause, to make me give any good thing over; for, there is no need of corporal strength, for such things as these, but only of love, and custom; since our Lord, affords us always opportunity, if we will, ourselves. I say, always; because, though infirmities, and other occasions, my hinder one sometimes, from spending many hours in Solitude, yet there will not want some other time, wherein we may have health enough, for this business; yea and even in other occasions, as also in the midst of sickness itself, the truest Prayer may be made (since it is the Soul, which loves) by offering up that pain, to Almighty God; and in remembering, for whom it is endured; and in conforming one's self, to God's holy will, therein; and in a thousand such other things, as will occur. And thus may one exercise Love; for, there is no necessity at all, for a person, either to be in Solitude, or else, that there must be no Mental Prayer, at all.  
If we will take a little care, we may arrive to obtain great blessings, at those times, when our Lord, even takes time for Prayer from us, by means of our sicknesses, and pain; and myself had found this to be true, as long as my Conscience was pure, and good. But my Father, through the opinion, which he held of me, and the love he bore me, believed all, that I had said; or rather, he not only believed, but had also pity of me; though yet, being then grown, to find himself, in so eminent, and high a state of Spiritual Life, he remained not with me, very long. And therefore, having visited me, he returned home, as holding his stay, there, to be loss of time; and I, who was willing to spend it upon other vanities, was not troubled very much, at his departure.  
It was not only with him, but with other persons also, whom I procured, that they should addict themselves to Mental Prayer, even whilst I was walking on, in those vanities; for still, as I found them apt, to use Vocal Prayer, I told them how they should grow to have the use of Meditation; and I did them good, and gave them Books; for I had still a good desire, that others should serve Almighty God, even from the very first time, that I used Mental Prayer; as I have related here.  
It seemed to me, that, since now I served not our Lord myself, so well as I should, yet I liked not, that that light should be lost, which his Divine Majesty had bestowed upon me; but that others might also serve him, by my means. And this I here recount, that so, the great blindness wherein I was, may be the better seen; which induced me, to make me lose myself, whilst yet I went procuring, to do good to others.  
About this time, my Father fell into the sickness, whereof he died, shortly after. But I went to attend, and recover him, whilst myself was more sick in Soul, than he was in Body, through many vanities of mine; though yet, not in such sort, as that, according to my understanding, I was in Mortal Sin, even in all this worst, & wickedest time, whereof I speak; for certainly, if I had conceived otherwise, I should, by no means, have continued therein. I endured some affliction, and trouble, in his sickness; and, I think, I also made him some part of poor amends, for the pains, which he had taken with me, in mine; for now, being ill enough in myself, I yet strained very hard, to do him service; and besides, I well considered, that by the only loss of him, all my comfort, and regalo, was to be lost; for it all, was shut up, in only him. I animated myself also, so much, towards the not showing him, that I was in any pain, and in continuing so, even till he expired, as if I had felt no trouble at all; though yet it be very true, that, when I saw him come, to be upon the very point, to lose his life, it seemed to me, as if mine own very Soul, had then been torn out of my Body; for I loved him much.  
It was a thing to make our Lord be highly praised, to see the death, which my Father died; together with the desire, which he also had to die; and the counsel, which he gave us, after he had received extreme Unction; and how he charged us, to recommend him to God; and that we should beg mercy of him, for his Soul; and that we must serve him ever; and consider, that all this world, must come to end. With tears he also told us, how sad he was at the hart, for not having served his Divine Majesty better; That he wished, he were some Religious man; I mean, that he had been so; and that, of the most strict, who were in the world. And I hold it, for very certain, that some fifteen days before, our Lord gave him to understand, that he was not to live; because, before that very time, he did not think he was sick, though yet he were so, in good earnest. But afterwards, though he seemed to mend much, in point of health, and though the Doctors bade him believe, that there was no danger at all, yet he made no account of that, but only attended, to put his Soul, in good order.  
That sickness of his, began with a very grievous pain, round about his shoulders, which never left him; and sometimes it pressed him so hard, that his affliction was very great. I told him once, upon this occasion, that since he had been so devoted to that Mystery, when our Lord carried his Cross upon his Back, he might do well, to conceive, that his Divine Majesty had been pleased to give him a feeling, of some part of that, which himself had undergone, with so much trouble; and my Father was so comforted by this thought, that I remember him not, to have ever complained more. He remained three days, with very little show of understanding; but yet, the day, whereon he died, our Lord restored it to him; & that, so entirely, as we were all, even amazed to see it; and he continued in it, saying the Creed; and as soon, as he had passed through the first part thereof, he expired. When he was dead, he looked even like an Angel; and as such (in manner of speech) he ever seemed, in my sight, to be, both in Soul, and disposition or humour; which he had, extremely good. Nor do I know, why I have spoken thus much of him, unless it be to confess, and accuse mine own wickedness, so much the more; since, upon the sight of such a death, and the knowledge of such a life, I ought to have amended, and reform mine, if it had been but to grow the liker to such a Father. His Confessarius, who was a Dominican, and a great learned man, affirmed, that he made no doubt, but that my Father would go straight to Heaven; for he, who had Confessed him divers years, spoke much of the great purity of his Conscience. This Dominican Father, being a very worthy man, and a true servant of God, did me a great deal of good; for I Confessed myself to him; and he undertook the profit of my Soul, with care; and to make me well understand the way of perdition, wherein I was walking. He caused me also to Communicate every fifteen days; and beginning first to treat with him, by little and little, I spoke with him afterward, at length, about my Prayer; and he told me, that I must not fail to use it; and that it could not, by any means, but do me good. I began, therefore, to use it again; and from that time forward, I never left it; though yet I did not, for the present, give-over the occasions, of my imperfections.  
I therefore, in the mean time, passed a most sad life; for, in Prayer, I came to understand my faults. On the one side, I was called by Almighty God; and on the other, I followed the world. All those things, which belonged to God, gave me great contentment; but those things, which were of the World, tied me up, in chains; and, it seems, I had a mind, to make these two contraries, friends, which yet are so much in enmity, with one another; namely, a Spiritual life, on the one side; and sensual pastimes, contentments, and delights, on the other.  
In my Prayer, I endured much trouble, because now, my Spirit was grown to be no longer, a Lord, but a Slave; and therefore I was not able to shut myself up, in my hart (which was the only way of proceeding, I formerly had held, in my use of Prayer) without shutting up, a thousand vanities, together with myself. I passed so many years in this manner, that now I am astonished to consider, that any person should be able to endure, the not leaving, either the one, or the other, in so long a time. I well know, that now, it was no longer, in my hand, to give over Mental Prayer; for he held me now in his, who resolved to do me greater favours. O that I could declare the occasions of doing ill, which God removed from me, in those years; and how I put myself again, into them; and of the danger, wherein I was, to lose all the opinion, and reputation, which I had in the world, from which he freed me; and of the haste, which I made, to discover, by my actions, what kind of Creature I was; and the haste, which our Lord made also, to cover these faults, and to discover some little virtue of mine, if there were any; and to make the same seem great, in the eyes of all men; in such sort, as that they ever held me, in much account. For, though sometimes, my vanities would shine through my actions, yet they seeing other things in me, which appeared good, would not believe the ill. But the true cause hereof, was, that the knower of all things saw, that this was fit, to be so ordained; to the end, that, when afterward I should come, to persuade the world, to do him service, they might give me some little credit, therein. And that Sovereign Bounty of God, did not so much consider my great sins, as it did those desires, which I had sometimes, to serve him; and the great trouble I felt in myself, for wanting power, and strength, to put the same in execution.  
But, O thou Lord of my Soul! and how shall I ever be able to express, with fullness, and clearness enough, the favours, which thou show'dst me, in those years? and how, in that very time, when I was offending thee most, thou madest such haste to dispose my Soul, to a most profound remorse, and sorrow; that so I might come to taste of thy regaloes, and great favours again? The truth is, O my King, that thou didst use the most curious, and choice kind of sharp punishment, which could possibly (to my thinking) be found for me; as one, who didst well understand, what was likely to cost me, the dearest of all other things; for thou didst punish those sins of mine, with great regaloes. And I think, it is no impertinency, which I utter; though yet it were a kind of reason, that I should now, even as it were, lose my wits, whilst I renew the memory of my ingratitude, and malice, towards thee. But really, it was so much a more painful, and insupportable kind of thing, for me to receive such favours, upon the very neck of my having fall'n into so great offences, than it would have been, to endure grievous punishments; that some one of those said favours, so received, seems clearly, and very certainly, to have even overwrought, and defeated, and confounded me more, than all my infirmities, and torments, and other afflictions, put together, were ever able to do. For, as for these latter afflictions, I found, that I deserved them well; and I thought they might go, in part, by way of satisfaction, for my sins; though yet, even in that kind of account, I know, that my sufferances were few, for my offences; which were so many, and so very great. But now, to see myself receiving so freshly, so high favours, whilst yet the while, I made so ill retribution, for those, which I had received before, is, in my account, a kind of most terrible torment; and I think, it will be esteemed so, by all such, as have any knowledge, or love of God; and we may easily find this to be true, even by the natural condition of persons, who are virtuously inclined. And hence flowed down my tears, together with an indignation, to consider, what I found in myself; for I saw, that still I was, as upon the pitch of returning to fall again, although my firm purposes, and desires, did then (I mean, so long as those favours lasted) stand fast, and firm.  
A great inconvenience it is, for a Soul, to find herself solitary, and single, amongst so many dangers; and me thinks, that if I had any Creature, to whom I might have imparted all this, it would have holp me, not to fall again; at least, for shame of the world, if I would not be ashamed, to offend God. I would therefore 
* An excellent Advice.  advise them, who make Mental Prayer, and especially at the beginning thereof, to procure some friendship, and familiarity, with others, who have the same design; for, this is of much importance, though it should be for no more, then to be assisted by the prayers of one another; and how much more, when there is such advantage to be gotten also, otherwise. And, for my part, I cannot tell, why, since by means of conversations, and humane inclinations (even although they be not excellently good) men procure to get some friends, by whose means they may unwearie themselves, and may find an increase of contentment, by recounting their vain pleasures to one another, it should be so much, as permitted, that such as begin to love, and serve Almighty God, in good earnest, should forbear to impart, both their delights, and their afflictions, to some fit persons; since such as use Prayer, are acquainted with both. For, if that Creature be in earnest, who desires to hold friendship, with his Divine Majesty, there needs to be no fear of Vainglory; and when that Soul should be set upon, by any first motion thereof, he would easily get out of it, with merit. And, as for me, I believe, that he, who should communicate thereof, with others, to this intention, would both profit himself, and those, that hear him; and would pr●●e, to be better taught, both in his own understanding part, and in knowing also, how to instruct his friends. He, who should be subject to Vainglory, for speaking upon such an occasion as this, would also not fail to have it, by being seen to hear Mass, with devotion; and by doing other things also, to which he is yet expressly bound, upon the pain of being, otherwise, no good Christian. And yet these things, must not be forborn, upon the fear of a man's being subject to Vainglory. Now, this is a point of so extreme importance, for the benefit of all such Souls, as are not yet strengthened, and established in Virtue (who want not, both so many Adversaries, yea and friends also, to incite them to ill) that I know not, how to express it, with earnestness, and advantage enough. And, to me it seems, as if the Devil loved to use this device, as a thing, which imports him very much; Namely, that men should hide themselves as carefully, from such, as can understand them, & who would procure, to make them love, and give gust to God; as he hath earnestly incited others, to discover their intemperate desires. Which latter course, is yet so much taken, and followed, that it passes for a kind of gallantry, to talk of it; and so, upon the matter, they publish the offences, which they commit against Almighty God, by this means.  
I know not, whether they be impertinencies, which I utter; if they be, your Reverence may be pleased, to tear them; and if they be not, I beseech you, Sir, assist, and instruct my simplicity, by adding much to them, upon this subject. For, the business of the Service of Almighty God, goes now so weakly on, that they, who procure to serve him, had need support, and succour one another; that so, they may be able to get forward; so very much are the vanities, and foolish entertainments of the world, grown, to be in fashion; and in such sort; that there are few eyes in the world, to discern their fault. But if any body, on the other side, do but begin, to give himself to Almighty God, there are so many, who will murmur at him, that he shall find himself to have need enough, to get company, which may appear, in his defence; till such time, as he be confirmed, in not being troubled, for what he is put to suffer; which if he chance not to be, he may, perhaps, grow to see himself, in some straits.  
And, perhaps, this may have been the reason, why some Saints have used, to retire themselves into Deserts. But, as it is a kind of humility, not to put any confidence, in a man's self; so yet, is it no sin against piety, to believe, that God will not fail, to help him to live amongst them, with whom he is obliged, to converse. But thus, Charity, by being communicated, will grow to be increased; and there are a thousand other benefits, which belong to this way of proceeding; where of I should not adventure to speak, if I had not great experience of the much importance here of. True it is, that I am both the most weak, and the most wicked, of as many Creatures, as were ever borne; but yet still, I am apt to think, that, whosoever will humble himself, though he be strong, and will yet, not believe so much of himself, but, in this, will give belief to another, who is endued with experience, shall never lose any thing, by the bargain. Of myself, I am able to say thus much, that if our Lord had not discovered this truth to me, and had not also given me means, to treat, in very usual manner, with such persons, as had the knowledge, and practise of Mental Prayer, I had still walked on, with falling and rising, till I had even dropped down headlong into Hell. For, I wanted not many friends, who would not fail, to help me to fall; but towards the recovering, and raising me up, I found myself so absolutely alone, that now I am no less than amazed, to consider, how I remained not still, laid flat; and I praise the mercy of Almighty God; for it was he, and only he, who gave me his helping hand. Let him be blessed, and praised, for ever, and for ever,  
Amen.   

THE EIGHTH CHAPTER.  
She treats of the great good, it did her, towards the not losing her Soul, not to have wholly given-over her Prayer; As also, what an excellent remedy that is, towards the gaining of whatsoever good thing, which is lost. She persuades all Creatures to use it; and declares the great benefits thereof; and although we should afterwards leave it, yet, that still, it would prove a great good, to have used so great a help for some time.  
I Have not, without cause, been considering, and reflecting upon this life of mine, so long. For, I am able to discern well enough, that no body will have gust, to look upon a thing, so very wicked; And really, I would be glad, that all such persons as should read this Discourse, might abhor me; to see a Soul, so pertinacious, and so ungrateful, towards him, who had vouchsafed it so great Favours. And I wish, I could get leave, to declare that multitude of times, that I failed of my obligation to Almighty God, in this number of years; by reason, that I was not applied to, and supported by, the strong pillar of Prayer. I passed through this tempestuous Sea, almost twenty years, between these fall, and risings (though I rose ilfavourdly enough, since I returned again so quickly to fall) in this kind of life, tending towards perfection; but yet in so base a way, as that I made no account at all, of Venial 
Take heed of this great danger.  Sins; and for such as were Mortal, it is true, that, although I feared them, yet I did not even that, as I ought, since I absented not myself from the danger thereof; but I will be bold to say, that it is one of the most painful kinds of life, that can possibly be imagined. For, I neither enjoyed the sweetness of God, nor yet the satisfaction of the world. When I found myself in the contentments of the world, the remembrance of what I owed to God, gave me pain; and whilst I was conversing with his Divine Majesty, the inclinations, & affections of the world, gave me disquiet. And this is a kind of war so very painful, that I know not, how it was possible for me, to find means, to endure it, for one month; and much more, how I could do it, for so many years; notwithstanding that I yet clearly see, the great mercy, which Almighty God showed me heerin (since I was to treat of many things, in the world) that still I should have the courage, to give myself to Prayer. I say, courage; for, as for me, I see not, what one thing there is, of so many, as are to be found in the whole world, wherein there is need of a greater, then to treat of committing Treasons, against a King, and to know, that he knows it well, and yet, never to go out of his presence. For, howsoever it be very true, that we are always in the presence of Almighty God; yet me thinks, that they, who converse with him, in Prayer, are in his presence, after a more particular manner; for they are seeing then, that he sees them; whereas others may perhaps, remain some days in his presence, and yet without remembering, that he looks upon them. True it is, that within that time, there were, I believe, many months, and sometimes, peradventure, a whole year, that I kept myself from offending our Lord, and gave myself much, to Mental Prayer; and I also used some, yea and many diligences, that I might never grow more, to offend him. And because all that, which I write now, is to be delivered, with entireness of truth, I declare myself here, as you see. But I remember little, of those good days; and therefore it may be thought, they were few, and the ill ones, many; yet few of those few, passed away, without my allowing a good long time for Prayer, unless I were either very sick, or extremely busy. The worse I was in my health, the more I was united with God; and I procured, that such persons, as used to be with me, at those times, might be so too; and I begged it of our Lord; and we spoke very often, of him. And so, unless it were that one year of which I have spoken, in eight and twenty years, which have passed, since I began first to use Mental Prayer, I have endured this battle, and strife, of treating, both with God, and the World, more than eighteen years. In those other years, whereof I am yet to speak, the cause of the war was changed, though of itself, it was no inconsiderable thing; but, in regard that I was then, as I conceive, in the service of Almighty God, and in a knowledge of the vanity of whatsoever this world can be, it did all, prove delightful, and pleasant; as I will show hereafter.  
Now, the reason, why I have related all this, is; First, (as I was saying before) to the end, that the mercy of Almighty God, together with my ingratitude, may be well discerned; And Secondly, that it may be also understood, how great a blessing Almighty God doth to that Soul, which he disposes to use Mental Prayer, with a good affection, and will; though yet it should not be so very well disposed for it, as were fit; for, in fine, if he persever therein, what Sin soever he commit, and whatsoever Temptation be offered, and whatsoever Falls be giuen him, in a thousand strange fashions, by the Devil 
* Consider this point much, and often. , I hold, in fine, for certain, that our Lord will draw him, at length, out of the Storm, into the Port of Salvation; as now, by all appearance, he hath drawn me; and I humbly beseech his Divine Majesty, that I may never return again, to be lost.  
Many holy, and good men, have written of the benefit, which he obtains, who exercises himself in Prayer; I mean, Mental Prayer; and glory be to Almighty God, for being the cause thereof; and yet, if that were not true, though I have little humility, yet am I not withal, so insolent, as that I would presume to speak upon this subject. But of that, whereof I have some experience, I may vet presume to say somewhat; and it is this; That, whosoever hath begun to frequent the use of Prayer, I wish him, not to give it over, whatsoever sins he commit in the mean time; since this is the means, by which he may recover himself again; which he will find to be of much more difficulty, without it. And let not the Devil tempt him to leave it, as he did me, upon a pretence of humility; but let him firmly believe, that his words can never want truth, who said, That, if we will repent ourselves in good earnest, and resolve to offend the Divine Majesty no more, he restores us to the same friendship, which we had before, with him; and doth us the same favours, which he did us before; and sometimes, they prove to be much greater, if the repentance deserve it. And, whosoever hath not yet begun this exercise, I beseech him, for the love of our Lord, that he will no longer deprive himself, of so great a benefit.  
There is nothing, to be feared here; but much, to be desired. For, though a man should not proceed so far, as to strive to gain such perfection, as may prepare, and, as it were, deserve those gusts, and regaloes, which God is want to give to such persons; yet the least, which he shall get, will be, that he shall be going on, in the way to Heaven. And I know so much, of the mercy of Almighty God, that I may conclude for certain enough, that no body ever took him for a friend, whom he did not well requite, for his pains. For, Mental Prayer, is no other thing, in my opinion, than a Treaty, about making Friendship with Almighty God; and a frequent, and private Commerce, hand to hand, with him; by whom, we know, we are beloved. And, as for you, if you love him not yet, (for, to the end, that it may be a true love, and that your friendship may last, the conditions must be reciprocal; and we know, there can be no want on our Lord's behalf; and that our nature, is vicious, sensual, and ungrateful; and so, we cannot, perhaps, obtain fully, at our own hands, to love him so much, because he is not of the same condition, with us) yet considering, how much it imports us to hold friendship with him, and how much he loves us, we must pass on, and pass over this pain, of being much in his company, who is of so different a condition, from ours.  
O infinite goodness of my God how true it is, that, me thinks, I see, both thee, and myself, in this very manner? O thou, who art the very Regalo of the Angels in Heaven! how fain would I even defeat, and dissolve myself totally, in loving thee, when I see, and consider, these things? And how certain a thing it is, that thou art on the suffering hand, in regard of such, as will not suffer thee, to remain with them? O how good a friend, dost thou make thyself, to thy friend, O my Lord; and how dost thou go enduring him, and regaling him? And thou expectest, till he make himself grow to be of thy condition, and inclination; and, in the mean time, thou endurest, and permittest him to continue, to be a while, of his own; and thou takest, O my dear Lord, by way of good payment, those fits of time, which he can be content, to bestow upon thee; and upon a minute of true sorrow, and repentance, thou forgettest all those sins, whereby he hath offended thee. All this, have I perceived clearly, in order to myself; and, for my part, I cannot see, O my Creator, how the whole world, can forbear, to procure to draw near to thy Divine Majesty; that so it may be able, to obtain this particular kind of friendship with thee. Such as are wicked, and are not, hitherto, come to have the like inclinations, and dispositions to thine, should yet come towards thee; to the end, that so thou mightst make them good; and that they might endure thee, to be with them, though it were but for some two hours, in the day; yea, even though they would not, the while, stay in thy company, without a thousand distractions, and tumblings, up, and down, in wordlie cares, and thoughts; as I was wont to do. And, for recompense of this violence, which they use to make against themselves, by continuing in so good company as thine, (for neither in those very beginnings, no, nor even afterwards also, for a while, can they tell, how to do better) thou forcest, O Lord, the Devils of Hell, to forbear a setting fiercely upon them; and permittest them, to have daily, less power, than other, against them; yea, and thou puttest them into men's hands, that they may overcome them. So that thou, O thou Life of all lives, dost never kill any one of those Creatures, who puts his confidence in thee; nor of them, who desire thee, for a Friend; but thou sustainest both the life of their Bodies, with increase of health; and thou also dost impart it, to the Soul. For my part, I cannot possibly understand, why men should fear, as they do, to begin to use Mental Prayer; nor of what it is, in fine, that they are afraid. The Devil, indeed, doth not ill, in order to his own wicked ends, to procure to do me hurt, if, by pretence, and means, of I know not what fears, he can procure, to make me forbear a considering, how much, and how highly, I have offended Almighty God; and how much, I am obliged to him, for his great mercies, and benefits; and to think upon this truth, that there is such a thing, as glory in Heaven; and torments, in Hell; and upon those great afflictions, and sorrows, which our Lord endured for me, in this life. For, this was still my Prayer, when I was continuing in all those dangers; and upon this, did I think, whensoever I was able. And, very often, yea and for some years together, I was busier, about desiring, that the Hour might come quickly to an end, still listening when the Clock would strike; then upon better things. Yea, and it happened to me, many times, that I knew not, what Penance could be set before me, so very great, as that I would not more willingly undergo it, then recollect myself to Mental Prayer. And it is certain, that either the Devil, did set upon me, with such an un-resistable force; or else, mine own wicked custom did it, that I might not go make Mental Prayer; and the sadness of my hart, was such, even when I entered into my Oratory, for that purpose, that I was fain to help, and serve myself, of all the strength, and courage I had, (which, they say, is not very little; and it hath been seen, that God hath given me more, then is usually possessed, by women, but that I have employed it ill) to force myself, to make my Prayer; and, in fine, it pleased our Lord, to assist me. But afterward, when I had used these violences to my hart, I found myself with more quiet, & delight; so that, sometimes, I grew to have an express desire, to pray.  
Now, therefore, since it chanced, that our Lord did suffer, and endure so wicked a Creature, as myself; and if it appear plainly, that all my miseries were redressed, by this means; what person, how wicked soever he may be, can find any thing, to be afraid of, here? For, how wicked soever, any other body may have been, he will never be so yet, after the enjoying of so great Favours, from our B. Lord, as I had received. And, who can ever come to disconfide in his Divine Majesty, who had patience with me, so long, upon this only reason, Because I desired, and procured some means, for time, and place, wherein he might be with me? And even this little thing, I did often, without any inclination of mine own, but only by the great violence, which either I offered to myself, or else was offered to me, by our Lord.  
Since 
* Note this good Conclusion upon the Praemises.  therefore, the use of Mental Prayer is so fit; yea and so very necessary, even for such, as serve not God, but offend him; and since no body can truly find any such hurt, which it can possibly do, as would not be much greater without Prayer; at least, how can such forbear it, as serve Almighty God, and desire to serve him? Most certainly, unless a man have a mind, to pass through the troubles, & miseries of this life, with an addition of more misery, and to shut up the very gate against God himself, for fear, lest he should give him comfort, by this means, I cannot possibly understand this proceeding of his. I have, really, great compassion, and sorrow, for those poor Souls, who will needs serve Almighty God, upon their own cost; for, as for them, who use Mental Prayer, our Lord himself bears their charges; since, for the little pains they take, he gives them so much gust, that so, they may the better be able, to endure the taking of that pains in his company. Of these gusts, which our Lord is pleased to give to such, as persever in the exercise of Mental Prayer, there shall be more discourse hereafter; and I will not make it here. Only this, I will be bold to say, that, of all those so great favours, which it ever pleased our Lord to do me, the very Gate, was Prayer; and if that come once to be shut, I know not, how God shall do us favours. For though he should have a mind, to enter into a Soul, to regale both it, and himself in it, there is no means, by which to do it; since he must have it all to himself; and it must be clean, and pure; and it must also have a great desire, to receive favours. And if ourselves, on the other side, bring many impediments, and take no course to remove them, how shall we ever think, he can come to us; and how can we conceive, that he will help us?  
Now, to the end that his mercy may be seen, and the great benefit, which it was for me, not to have given over, my Praying, and Reading, I will here declare (since the understanding of it, imports so much) what battery, the Devil raises against a Soul, to gain it; and what diligences, and, as it were, art and mercy, is used by B. Lord, for procuring to reduce it, to himself; that so, others may preserve themselves, from those dangers, from which I kept not myself. And, above all things, I humbly desire men, for that great love, wherewith our Lord goes endeavouring to win us back again to himself, that they will keep themselves carefully, out of the 
* Note this, very well; for nothing imports more, then this.  occasions of Sin; for, when once we are engaged therein, there is no trust, or confidence to be had, where we are encountered, and assaulted, by so many enemies, whilst we, the while, are subject to such weakness, which disables us, to make any defence. I would fain be able here, to make a draught, and description, of that captivity, wherein my Soul was, at those times; for I well understood myself to be in captivity; and yet I could not tell very well, to what I whas a Slave; nor could I entirely believe, that that which my Confessors thought fit to aggravate no more, was so very ill, as yet, I was apt to find it. A certain person told me, when I went to him once, with a scruple, that, 
* A great and gross error.  although I were in state of using high Contemplation, yet such occasions, and conversations, were of no inconvenience to me. This happened to me, towards the latter end, when I, by the favour of God, went separating myself, more and more, from great dangers; but yet, I did not wholly avoid occasions. But now, when they observed my good desires, and my exercise of Mental Prayer, they thought, I did great matters; but as for me, my Soul understood well enough, that it was not so much, as to perform, what I was obliged, for one, to whom I owed so much. I have now, both pity, and grief, to consider, how much my Soul suffered at that time; and the little help, it got from any, but Almighty God; besides the great facilities, and owertures, which they made for me, towards certain pastimes, and contentments, by making me believe, that they were lawful.  
But now, the torment also, which I had, by hearing Sermons, was not little; for I had a great affection, to hear them; in such sort, that, if I see any man preach with spirit, & very well, I carried a most particular affection to him; and that without any endeavour of mine; nor do I know, how I came to have it. Me thought, no Sermon seemed so ill to me, which I could not gladly hear; though others would be of opinion, that he preached not well; but then, if the Sermon were good, it gave me a very particular satisfaction. To speak of God, or hear him spoken of, did, in effect, never weary me; I mean, after I had once begun to use Mental Prayer. Yet, on the one side, I was much comforted, with hearing Sermons; but, on the other side, they tormented me, because I understood thereby, that I was not, by many degrees, any such Creature, as I ought to have been. I humbly begged of our B. Lord, that he would help me; but I believe (by what I can now conjecture) that I was wanting, in the point of placing all my confidence, in his Divine Majesty, and 
* A point of very great importance.  totally disconfiding in myself. I sought for remedy; and I used many diligences; but I understood not, that all is good for nothing, unless first we strip ourselves entirely, of all confidence in ourselves, and lodge it all, upon Almighty God. I desired, to live a true life; for than I understood well enough, that, indeed, I did not live, but that I fought, with the very shadow of death. But there was no body, who would give me life; and as for me, I was not able to take it; and he, who was only able to give it, had no reason, to bring me succour; since he, having drawn me to himself so very often, I had yet forsaken him.   

THE NINTH CHAPTER.  
She declares, by what means our Lord began to awake her Soul, and give her light, in so great darkness; and to strengthen also her Virtues, that so she might offend him, no more.  
But now, my Soul was already grown, to be very weary; and yet, the ill habits, which I had made, & the ill customs, which I had used, would not permit her, to be unwearied, and take rest. It happened to me one day, upon my going into the Oratory, that I saw a Picture, which had been brought in, thither, to be kept; for they had borrowed it, to serve, for a certain Festivitie, which was to be celebrated in the House, about that time. The Picture was of Christ our Lord, full of wounds, & sores; and it was so devoutly made, that, when I looked upon it, it moved me much; for it represented very well, what he had endured for us. And the sense of the little gratitude to our Lord, which I had conceived, and expressed, for those wounds of his, was such, that me thought, my very hart, did even splitt. And I cast myself earnestly down, near the Picture, with a great shower of tears, beseeching our Lord humbly, and earnestly, that he would strengthen me so far, once for all; as that, at length, I might offend him no more.  
I was besides, very much devoted, to the glorious S. Marie Magdalen; and I thought much, and often, of her Conversion; and especially, whensoever I received the B. Sacrament. For, knowing, at that time, that our Lord was most certainly in my very bosom, I placed myself at his feet, as conceauing, that my tears would not be despised by him. I know not very well, what I said; but yet I know, that he, who was pleased, that I should shed those tears, did show me favour enough, for his part; since I forgot the sense, and tenderness thereof, so soon. And I recommended myself, to that glorious Saint, that she might help me, to obtain pardon of my Sins. But I conceive, that I profited the more, in that last time, when I prayed before the Picture; because then, 
* Note.  I was grown into very great distrust of myself; and placed all my confidence, in Almighty God. To my thinking, I told him then, that I would 
* This was the beginning, of many great blessings.  never rise from thence, till he granted me, the humble Suit, which I had made; and I am fully of opinion, that it did me good; for, I have gone improving much, ever since that time.  
Now I continued to hold this manner of Prayer; because, not being able to discourse with my Understanding, I procured to represent Christ our Lord, to my mind, as being then, within my very self; and jever also found it, to prove better with me, in my opinion, when I conceived myself, to find him all alone. For, he being alone, and I being so much afflicted, me thought, he was to admit me, yea, and to assist me too, as a person, who was in necessity, and misery. Of this kind of Simplicities, I had many; and in particular, I used to find myself very well, in the Prayer of the Garden; yea, and I was in my kingdom, when I might accompany him there. I thought also much, upon that Sweat, together with the great affliction, which he sustained then; and I wished, that I might have been permitted, to wipe that most painful Sweat, from his face; but I remember, how, in fine, I never durst resolve, to presume to do it; so grievously, did my Sins represent themselves to me. Howsoever, I remained there, by him, as long as my thoughts would give me leave; but, the truth is, I had store of such, as tormented me. Most nights, during many years, before I went to rest, and when I was recommending myself to God, ere I slept, I ever thought a little, upon this passage, of his Prayer in the Garden; and that, even before I was a Religious woman; for, they told me, that I might gain many Indulgences by it; and, at least, I am of opinion, that my Soul got much, by this means; because thus, I began to make Mental Prayer, even without expressly knowing, what it was; and then, it was as usual for me, not to omit this custom, as not to fail of blessing myself, with the Sign of the Cross, before sleep.  
But, to return to what I was saying, of the torment, which my thoughts were wont to give me. This manner of proceeding, without discourse of the Understanding, hath this in it, That the Soul must both gain much, and loose much; I mean, all consideration, and discourse is lost; for, as for profiting, they profit much, who use it, since all such Prayer, is Love.. But, to arrive to this point, & pitch, it will cost every body, a great deal of pains, except such, as our Lord vouchsafes to conduct, in a short time, to Quiet Prayer; of which kind, I know some; and for them, who go by this way, it will be good to have some Book, or other, at hand, that so they may recollect themselves quickly. As for me, it did me also good, to look upon Fields, or Flowers, or Water; for, in these things, did I find the memory of our Creator, as I also did, in mine own ingratitude, and Sins; all which particulars, were wont to awake me, and recollect me, and to serve me, in stead of a Book; for, as for Heaven, and such high things as that, my Understanding was so dull, that I could never (I say, never) be able to have, or frame any imagination, or fancy, concerning them, till our Lord represented them to me, by other means. And I had so very little ability, to represent things to my mind, by way of the understanding-part, that my Imagination served me not, to work upon any thing, but only what I saw with mine eyes; which yet others are able enough to do, who know, how to form certain representations of things to themselves, upon which they can recollect their thoughts.  
For my part, I could only think upon Christ our Lord, as man; but yet it is very true, that how much soever I read of his Beauty, or saw his Pictures, yet could I never represent him, to myself, but just so, as one, who were either in the dark, or else stark blind, might be able, at that very time, to represent any other person to himself. For, though such an one, may speak with such another, & know, that he is with that person, because he is sure, that the said person is there; yet, in fine, he doth but understand, and believe him, to be there, for he sees him not; and in this sort, did it happen to me, when I thought of our Lord.  
Upon this reason, was I so great a friend, and favourer of the use of Images, or holy Pictures. Miserable Creatures are they, who lose this benefit, through their own fault. And it appears also well enough, that they do not love our Lord; for if they loved him, they would be glad, to see his Picture; as here it gives us contentment, so see the pictures of those persons, whom we love.  
About this time, they gave me the Confessions of S. Augustin; and, it seems, our Lord did so ordain it; for, neither did I procure them, nor had I ever seen them. I bore a very great affection, to this Saint, because the Monastery, where I lived, before I grew to be Religious, was of his Order; and besides, in regard, that he had been a Sinner; for I always found particular comfort in those Saints, who, after having been Sinners, were converted to our Lord; as conceauing, that I should have help, by their means; and that our Lord might also be induced to forgive me, as he had done them. Save only, that I was discomforted by this consideration, (as I have said before) that our Lord called them but once, and they returned not, to fall from him, any more; but, as for me, I had fall'n so often, that it afflicted me, to the very hart. But yet still, when I considered the love he bore me, I grew to be encouraged again; for I never disinherited his mercy, though I doubted of myself, very often.  
O my dear Lord! how mightily doth that obstinate stiffness amaze me, to which my Soul must needs have been subject, whilst it received so many helps, at thy hand; and all in vain? And it strikes me with much fear, to consider, how little I was able to win upon myself, all that while; and, how I remained still bound up, from resolving to give myself, wholly to thee. But, when once I began to read the said Confessions, me thought, that Case, which had been his, was also now, directly mine own; and I recommended myself much, to that glorious Saint. But, when I came, afterwards, to his Conversion, and read, how he heard that Voice in the Garden, it was, to my thinking, as if our Lord had made it to be uttered for me; so quick was that sense, which I had thereof, in my hart; and I was, for a very great while, even dissolved, as it were, in tears, and felt a great affliction, and vexation. O my dear Lord; howmuch doth a Soul grow to suffer, and what torments doth it endure, for the losing of her liberty, whilst yet she was created, and ordained, to be the Lady of herself, and to command? For my part, I am in a wonder, how I could be able to endure so great torments. But blessed be Almighty God, who gave me life, till I might get out of that so deadly a death. And now, me thought, my Soul was obtaining great strength, at the hands of that Divine Majesty; and that now, he might grow to be pleased, to hear my. Outcries, and have compassion of my so many tears.  
Upon this, my affection to spend more time with him, began to increase; and to take myself also, out of the way of ill occasions; for, when they once were gone, I began, to love his Divine Majesty again. At least, I thought, I might conclude myself then, to love him; but the truth is, that I understood not, as I ought to have understood, in what, the true love of God, did consist; and (to the best that I am able to judge) I did even scarce make an end, of disposing myself finally, to resolve to serve him, when his Divine Majesty began already, to vouchsafe me new Regalos, and Favours. And it seems, that, what others must be glad to endeavour to get, with much labour, our Lord was fain to find means, to make me content to accept; which was, in these latter years, to delight, and regale me, in great measure. I never presumed to desire, that he would give me even so much, as any tenderness of devotion; but I only begged so great mercy, as might win him to allow me pardon, for my sins already committed; and so much grace, as that I might commit no more. But, I seeing, how great they were, durst never advisedly desire any regaloes, or spiritual delights at his hands; for, me thought, he showed me pity enough, (and it was really, a very eminent mercy) to consent, that I should arrive to be in his presence; considering how well I knew, that, if himself had not procured it, I should never have come. Only once, in my whole life, I remember, that, whilst I was in great dryness of Devotion, I desired him, to give me some little spiritual gust; but as soon, as I reflected, upon what I had done, I remained so full of confusion by it, that the only vexation I had, to see myself, with so little humility, did give me that very advantage, which I had presumed to beg.  
I was not ignorant, that it might be, no way, an unlawful thing, to desire it; but I conceived that this was true, for them, who were well disposed to receive it, by their having procured true devotion, with all their power; which consists, in not offending Almighty God, and in being inclined, and resolved, to do all that, which was good. And me thought those tears of mine, were but faint, and feminine tears, and without any force, or strength; since I obtained not that, by them, which I desired; though yet, upon the whole matter, I also believe, that they were useful to me, as I have said. For, in particular, after those two several times, of that so great compunction, and travail of hart, which I had, I began to give myself more, to Prayer, and to interest myself less, in such things, as might do me hurt; though yet I did not utterly give them over; but God (as I was saying) went helping me, to withdraw myself, out of those dangers. For, his Divine Majesty did but expect some preparation, or disposition in me, that so, his Spiritual Favours might grow on, in such sort, as I shall relate; our Lord being not accustomed to grant them, but to such, as maintain their Consciences in more purity, then mine had formerly possessed.   

THE TENTH CHAPTER.  
She begins to declare the Favours, which our Lord did her in Prayer; and speaks of that, wherein we may be able to help ourselves; And how much it also imports us, to understand the said Favours, which our Lord is pleased to do us. She humbly desires of him, to whom she sends this account of herself, that, whatsoever she shall declare from hence forward, may remain in secret with him, since he had commanded her to set down, in so particular a manner, the Favours, which our Lord was pleased to do her.  
I Enjoyed sometimes (as I said) some beginnings, of that, which I shall now declare; though it used to pass away, very quickly. It fell out, in this representation, whereof I spoke, when I placed myself, near Christ our Lord; yea, and sometimes also, when I would be reading; that there would come suddenly upon me, and without either expectation, or any immediate preparation, on my part, such an evident feeling of the 
* Her entrance into the receaueing Supernatural Favours.  presence of Almighty God, as that I could, by no means, doubt, but that either he was within me, or else I, all ingulfed in him. This was not in the manner of a Vision, but I think they call it Mystical Theology; and it suspends the Soul in such sort, that she seems to be wholly out of herself. The Will, is in act of loving; the Memory seems to me, to be, in a manner, lost; the Understanding, in my opinion, 
* It works not indeed, by way of using Discourse, or making Inferences; but yet it work, by way of Contemplation, and Admiration of the Infinite Object, being God, who is set before it.  discourses not; & although, it be not lost; yet it works not in that kind, as I was saying, but remains, as it were, amazed, to consider, how much it understands; though yet it pleases God, that it understand itself also, not to understand fully, any part of that, which his Divine Majesty represents to it. Before this time, I had been used, to find a very constant, and continual tenderness, or sweetness, which, I think, may, in some part, be procured; and it is a regalo, which is neither wholly sensual, nor wholly spiritual; but it is wholly the gift, and blessing of Almighty God; and it seems, that we may greatly help, towards the obtaining this, for ourselves, by considering our own baseness, and the ingratitude, which we use, towards Almighty God; how much he did for us; his Passion, and grievous Torments; his whole Life, which was so full, of affliction; to delight ourselves, in considering his Works, and his Greatness; & how much he loves us; and many other such things, as these; upon which, whosoever shall have care to profit, will be able to fall many times; though yet, he have just then, no particular design that way. And if, together with these reflections, the party fall out, to be possessed, and seized with any love of Almighty God, the Soul will be all regaled; the hart will be full of tenderness, and relenting; and tears will also abound; which sometimes we shall seem to have gotten, as it were, by force; and, at other times, our Lord will seem to have brought them so upon us, as that we were not able, to resist them.  
Now it seems, that his Divine Majesty is pleased to pay us here, for the little poor care, we took to serve him, with so high a gift, as that comfort is, which he bestows upon a Soul, who sees herself able to lament, & weep, for having offended so great a Lord. And I wonder not a whitt, at this; for, me thinks, she hath reason enough, and to spare, for receiving joy, and comfort, upon this occasion. There, doth the Soul rejoice, & there, doth she regale herself. I like that Comparison well, which offers itself to me now, That these joys of Prayer, should be somewhat like those others, which are in Heaven. For, as they see no more there, then God is pleased that they shall see, according to their deserts; & they acknowledging, how small those deserts are, every one of them, is highly well content, with the place, wherein he is; though yet, there be an excessive difference, between the joys of some, and of others, in Heaven; yea much more, than there is between some spiritual joys, and others, here on earth; which yet is very great. And really, a Soul, when God doth her this Favour, at first, is very apt to think, that there remains no more then, to be desired; and she esteems herself then, to be abundantly satisfied, for all the service, which ever she was able to pay Almighty God; and I find, that she hath, at least, reason enough, to think so. For, even one of those single tears (which yet we may, after a sort, procure, in some part, even of ourselves; though still, without the assistance, and favour of God, we can do absolutely nothing at all) cannot be paid for, and purchased, in my opinion, with all the labours, and troubles of the world. For, a Soul gains much by them; and indeed, what greater gain can possibly, any Creature acquire, then to have some kind of testimony, that she is pleasing to Almighty God.  
So that, let whosoever shall arrive to this 
* Note.  point, praise God very much, and acknowledge himself, to be mightily in his Debt; for, already there is good appearance, that his Divine Majesty designs such a person, for his service, in his own House; and hath chosen him, for his Kingdom, without intention, that he shall turn his back from him, any more. And, let us not care for certain odd Humilities, which be in the world, whereof I intent to treat. For, some will needs esteem it to be Humility, 
* A great & foolish error.  not to understand those Gifts, which our Lord is bestowing upon them. But, as for us, let us well, and very well know, how the Case stands with us; Namely, that Almighty God bestows them upon us, without any merit at all, of ours; and let us be thankful to his Divine Majesty, for them. For, if we know not, what favour we receive, we shall not stir ourselves up, to love him for them, as we ought. For it is a most certain truth, that the better we find, that we are rich (knowing first, that of ourselves we are poor) we grow to profit so much the more; yea and even our very Humility, will prove to be more entire, and sincere. That other course, serves but to accowardize the mind, and to make it hold itself uncapable, of receiving great benefits, if our Lord, beginning once to bestow them, it shall also begin, to fright itself, by a fear of Vainglory. But let us rather believe, that he, who doth us so great Favours, will give us also grace, that, if the Devil tempt us, upon these occasions, we shall have knowledge, how to understand him, and strength from God, how to resist him; I mean, if we go on, with plainness, and sincerity, as in the sight of Almighty God, pretending ever, to content him only, without respect to men. For, it is a very evident, and certain truth, that we love a person the better, when we remember very freshly, what benefits we have received at his hands. And, if it be both lawful, and meritorious, for us to be ever keeping in memory, that we have our very Being from Almighty God; and that he created us of nothing; and that he upholds us still; together with all those other benefits, of his Passion, and Death, which he endured for every one of us, who are now alive, long before we were borne; why should it not be also lawful for me, who was wont to treat of nothing, but vanities, to understand, and see, and consider these things, often; especially when now our Lord allows me so great a blessing, as that I would not willingly, even so much as speak of any thing, but of him. And now, behold here a rich jewel, which (remembering, that it is bestowed upon us, and that already we are in possession thereof) invites, and even obliges us, to love our Blessed Lord; And this, in fine, is the total good of that Prayer, which is grounded upon Humility.  
But what will then occur, when they shall find, that other more precious jewels are come into their power, and possession, which our Lord imparts to some of his servants; as namely, a profund contempt, both of the whole world, yea and of themselves? It is clear, that, in this case, we must hold ourselves, for deeper debtors, and more obliged, to serve him; and to understand, that, of ourselves, we had no part of this Treasure, at all; and to know the great bounty of our Blessed Lord, who, to a Soul so wicked, and so absolutely without all merit, as mine, (for which, the first of those jewels aforesaid, was not only sufficient, but, by much, too great) would yet needs load me still, with greater treasures, than I could even tell, how to desire. We must, in such cases, as these, procure to get new strength wherewith to serve him; and by no means to be ungrateful; for, our Lord gives them ever, upon this condition, that, if we use not well, that treasure, and high place, wherein he puts us, he will strip us of them again; and, as for our parts, we shall come to be more poor, then ever we were, & so his Divine Majesty will dispense his Treasures, to such others, as he shall think fit; & who may benefit, both themselves, and others, by the good use thereof.  
But now, how shall that man improve his own Stock, and spend thereof, with latitude of hart, upon others, whilst yet he is not come so far, as to know, that himself is rich▪ It is, in my opinion, an impossible kind of thing (considering the grounds of Humane Nature) for one to do great, and goodly things, if he understand not himself, to be favoured, by Almighty God; for, we are so miserable Creatures, and so inclined to delight in things of this world, that we can hardly abhor, effectually, all that, which here we enjoy (and especially, to do it, with great liberty of Spirit) if we understand not out selves, to have some kind of taste, or pawn, concerning Heavenly things; for, by means of such blessings, as these, doth our Lord impart that Fortitude to us, which we lost by our Sins. And he should but unluckily desire, and exhort a man, to despise, and abhor the world; and encourage him to acquire, all those great virtues, which Christians of high perfection, use to possess; if he were not upheld therein, by a Livelie Faith, and by his having also felt some assurance, of the love, which our Lord, was pleased to bear him. For naturally, we are so very dead, that we look not after any thing, but that, which we see, at the present; and so, these very Favours, are the things, which awake, & strengthen our Faith. I say not, but that it may very well be, that I, being so very wicked, am apt, to judge of others, by myself; & that those others may need no more, than the very light, and truth of Faith, for the making their works very perfect; but I (as very miserable) have been in need, of all possible helps. Others may well say what they please, but I relate, what hath occurred to me; as they, who have power over me, command; and if he, to whom I send it, do not like it, he may tear it; as knowing better than I, what is unfit; Whom I humbly beseech, even for the love of our Blessed Lord, that, whatsoever I have said hitherto, concerning my wicked Life, and my Sins, he will publish it; and from this instant, I give leave, both to him, and all them, who have been my Ghostly Fathers (of which number he is, to whom this goes addressed) that they do it even now, whilst I am living; to the end, that even now. I may deceive the world, no longer; which else, perhaps, may think, that there is some good thing in me; and really, and very really, I speak truth, to the best, that I can now understand of myself, that he shall give me great comfort, if he will do it.  
But as for that, which shall follow hereafter, in this Discourse, I allow him no such liberty, at all; nor will I, by any means, give way, that if they chance to show the thing to any Creature, they declare, who that person is, with whom it passed; nor, who written it; and for this reason, have I forborn, to name, either myself, or any other, who hath intervened to the Story. But I have done the best I could, to write it so, as that I may not be known; and I desire, for the love of our Lord, that it may ever remain, as a Secret. For it will suffice, that there are so learned, and grave persons, as may authorise any thing, which is good, if our Lord will give me grace, to relate it; and if there be, it must be his, and not mine; for they only, who command me to write it, know, that I write it; and at the present, they are not here; and I write it also, as it were, by stealth, and with want of time, and with some trouble, because I am kept from spinning; and I live in a poor House, and have business enough; and, if our Lord gave me more ability, and memory, (of both which, I have very little) I might yet, by means thereof, serve myself, of what I had heard, or read. So that, if I say any thing, which is good, our Lord will serve himself of it, for some good end; but whatsoever is ill said, will be mine own; and that, your Reverence may blot out. And, both for the one, and for the other, there will be no reason at all, to declare my name. During any body's life, it is clear, that the good he doth, is not to be related; and after death, it will also serve for nothing, in this case; but only to make it lose all authority, and credit, for having been recounted, by a person, so base, and so wicked, as myself, And, because I hope you will do that, which I say, (and I humbly beg it of you, even for the love of our Lord; and of those others also, who are to see it) I write, as you see, with all liberty, and clearness; for otherwise, I should have great scruple to do it, but only, for the mere declaration of my Sins; and in that, I have none at all. As for other things, it is enough, that I am a woman, to make my wings fall down, flat by my sides; and how much more then, since I am not only a weoman, but a wicked woman?  
And therefore, whatsoever your Reverence shall find here, beyond the bare relation of the course of my Life, you must take, to be only, for yourself; since you would needs importune me so far, as to make you some declaration of the Favours, which our Lord had been pleased to do me, in Prayer; supposing ever, that you hold them to be in conformity, with the Truths of our Holy Catholic Faith; for, if not, you are instantly to burn it; and to this Direction, I will stand. So that I will declare, what passed with me, in this kind; to the end, that if it shall prove conform to Catholic truth, it may be of some service to you; and if not, that you may be the better able, to undeceave my Soul; and so, the Devil may get nothing by that, whereby I took myself, to gain. For, our Lord knows, that I ever have procured, to meet with persons, who might give me light, as I shall show afterward.  
But, how clearly soever I shall strive to declare these things, concerning Prayer, it will fall out to be obscure enough, for such as have no experience therein. I will touch also, upon some impediments, which (according to my way of understanding) use to oppose themselves against such persons, as are walking on, in this way; and I will also point at some others, in which there may be some danger, according to what our Lord hath taught me, by experience. And I have since, treated with great learned men, and persons, who had given themselves to Spirit, many years; and they see, that his Divine Majesty hath vouchsafed me, in seven and twenty years, wherein I have used Mental Prayer, (though I have walked on, so ill, & with so many stumbling blocks, in the way) that experience, which he hath not allowed to others, in seven and thirty, yea and in seven and forty years; whilst yet, they had spent their lives in Penance, and ever, in a course of Virtue.  
Let him be Blessed for all; and I beseech his Divine Majesty even by what he is himself, that he will vouchsafe to be served by me. For, my dear Lord knows very well, that I pretend no other thing by this, but only, that he may be a little the more exalted, and praised; when you see, that he would needs plant a Garden, of so sweet Flowers, upon, and in a Dunghill, so fowl, and filthy, and of so very ill favour, as I am. I humbly beseech his Divine Majesty, that I return not, through my fault, to pluck them all, up, by the roots, and so become again, what I was before. And this, do I entreat your Reverence, that you will beg of our B. Lord, for me; since you know, with more clearness, what I am, than here you have given me leave to express.   

THE ELEAVENTH CHAPTER.  
She declares, in what the fault consists, of not obtaining to love God with perfection, in short time. She begins to deliver it, by a Comparison, which contains Four degrees of Prayer. And she treats here of the First, which is very profitable for beginners; and for them also, who have no sensible delight, or gust, in Prayer.  
NOw, to speak of them, who begin to be Servants of our Blessed Lord, for Love, (and to me it seems, to be nothing else, to resolve to follow him, by this way of Prayer, who loved us so much) I find it to be a thing of so great dignity, that I regale myself, after a strange manner, even by the very thought thereof. For, servile fear will instantly fly away, if we carry ourselves, as we ought, in this first degree of Prayer. O thou Lord of my Soul, and my eternal Good! how comes it to pass, that, when a Soul resolves to love thee, and to do the uttermost she can, to leave all this world, that so she may the better employ herself upon this love of thee, thou art not pleased, that she should instantly enjoy the getting up, to possess this perfect love? But I have said ill; for I ought indeed, to have said, that I complain against ourselves; because it is we, who will not possess it, since all the fault is ours, for not instantly obtaining this true love of God with perfection, which carries all kinds of blessings in company thereof. For, the matter is, that we set so high a price, upon ourselves, and we are withal, so slow, in giving our hearts 
* Behold here the true & great impediment.  totally to God, that, as his Divine Majesty, on the one side, will not permit, that we should enjoy so precious a thing, without paying well for it: so, on the other, we never make an end, of disposing ourselves therein, as we ought. I am able to see well enough, that there is nothing at all, in this world, with which, so great a treasure can be bought; but yet, if we did indeed, what we could, by not fastening ourselves, to any thing of this world, but that all our cares, and considerations, were sent-up to Heaven, I am confident, that this blessing would be imparted to us, with very great speed, if speedily, and entirely (as I was saying) we disposed ourselves, to the receiving thereof, as some Saints have done. But the misery is, that we think, we give God all; and the truth is, that we offer his Divine Majesty, but the yearly Rents, or Revenues, and Fruits, ourselves remaining still, with the roots, and possession of the Land. We resolve, to make ourselves poor, for God's sake, and it is a point of great merit, to do so; but yet, we return many times, to take care, and to use diligences enough, that nothing may be wanting to us; I say not, of that, which is necessary, but sometimes also, even of that, which is superfluous; and to be procuring, also, to make friends, who may help us to it, and so put us still, into more care, yea, & perhaps, into more danger too, (that so we may grow to want nothing) then even we had before, when we were the possessors of our own estates.  
It seems also, that, when we came to be Religious, or as soon as we began to lead a Spiritual: life, and to aspire towards perfection, we gave-over, to care for the honour of this world; and yet, as soon as ever any Creature begins but to touch us, in that kind, we forget, that we had already, given it away, to Almighty God; and we resolve sometimes, to snatch it again, out of his hands, and run away with it, even after we seemed to have voluntarily made him, the entire Lord thereof. And just thus, doth it also happen sometimes, in other things. Now, this indeed is a very delicate, fine, foolish, ridiculous way of seeking the love of Almighty God, when, together with this pretence, we will (as a man may say) have our hands still full of the same imperfect inclinations, and affections, which we had before; since we do not procure indeed, to effect our own former good desires; and still we endeavour not, at length, to raise them wholly up, from the earth; and yet we will needs expect, the while, to enjoy many Spiritual comforts, and delights. But this, seems not to be of a Suit; nor doth the one Stuffe, sit well, with the other; and therefore, because we will not once resolve, to give ourselves totally up, to Almighty God, we come not totally, to enjoy this Treasure. And I pray God, it may please his Divine Majesty, to vouchsafe to grant it to us, though it should be, but by drop, and drop; and though it should grow to cost us, all the labours, and troubles of the whole world.  
A very great deal of mercy doth our Blessed Lord show to that person, to whom he gives the firm purpose, and grace, to resolve upon procuring this blessing, with all his power; for certainly, if such an one shall persever, Almighty God will deny himself to no Creature, but will, by little and little, go enabling that Soul, in such sort, as that, at length, it shall find itself to be victorious. But I said, that the Party must have courage; because the Devil doth ordinarily, in the beginnings, dispose himself, to represent, yea and frame, very great difficulties; to the end, that so we may not hold-on this way, in good earnest; as one, who knows very well, what prejudice is like to grow to him by it; not only, through his losing the Soul of that Party, but of many others also; if he, who begins to serve God, endeavour once, by his favour, to arrive to the perfection thereof. For, I believe, that such an one will never go alone, to Heaven, but will carry very many with him; and that, like a good Captain, he shall find, that God will give him a fair Company. So that, since the Devil will be sure, to lay such dangers, and difficulties, in his way, there will be need of very great courage, and resolution, to keep one from running away; yea and also, there will be need of much, and much, and very much favour, and mercy of Almighty God, for this purpose.  
Now therefore, to speak of the beginnings of such, as be already resolved, to go in search, after so great a blessing, and to obtain, what they aspire to, in the end, (for, as for that, whereof I was going once to speak, concerning Mystical Theology (for so I think it is called) I will treat thereof afterward) the great, and greatest trouble, consists ever, in these very beginnings. For, those are they, which cost most, when a Soul comes, to give our Lord the whole Stock. And, in the other degrees of Prayer, which follow, the most part of that, which passes, is delighting, and enjoying; though yet still, both the First, and the two Middle ones, and even the Last, have, all of them, their several Crosses to carry, yet, in a different kind. But, in fine, all they, who will follow Christ our Lord, must go by that very way, where he went, unless they will have a mind to be lost. And happy are those troubles, which be endured here, since even here, they are so superabundantly recompensed, and paid.  
I must now serve myself of some Comparison, which yet I would be glad, to forbear, in regard, that I am a woman; and would fain set that down, very simply, and plainly, which they command me to say. But this language of Spirit, is so very hard to be declared, by such, as are unlearned, like me, that I must seek some particular way, how to do it. And it is likely, that I shall seldom hit tied, in making the Comparison serve; but, in that case, it may pass for your recreation, to see, how very improper, and rude I am.  
To my remembrance, I have either read, or heard this 
* This Saint is admirable, in all the Comparisons which the uses.  Comparison, which follows here; for, my memory is so very imperfect, that I know not how, nor upon what occasion, I met with it, first; but it contents me, at least, for the present, in order to what I have in hand. He, who begins in the way of Prayer, must conceive that he is beginning to frame an Orchard, or Garden, for the contentment, and delight of his Lord; though yet it be in a very unfruitful Soil, and full of Weeds. His Divine Majesty now is he, who must be pleased to plant good Herbs, and root the ill ones up. But now we will make account, that this is done already, in our case, when a Soul, not only resolves, to use Prayer, but hath already, begun to use it. And now, by the help of our Lord, we must procure, like careful Gardeners, that these good Herbs, which are planted, may grow; and we must take care, to water them, that so, they may not wither, but may come to yield Flowers of so excellent odour, as may serve to be of recreation to this Lord of ours; that so, he may take pleasure, to come often, into this Garden of his, and delight himself, amongst these virtues of our Souls.  
Now let us see, in what sort, these Flowers may be watered, that so we may come to understand, what we are to do, and what trouble it is likely to cost; and whether the gain will prove to be more, than the labour; and how long it will be likely to last. As for me, it occurrs to me, to think, that these Plants may be watered, by four ways: Either, by drawing water, out of a Well, which we cannot do without much labour; or by way of a 
* This is a kind of Engine, with certain little leather Buckets fastened to the sides of a very great wheel, which dra was up, very much water, with great ease. In Spanish it is called a Noria.  Wheel, with certain little Buekets, belonging to it, which is easily turned about, by the hand; and myself have drawn some, thus, now and then; and I find, that it brings up more water, with less trouble, then doth that, of the former way. Or else, by means of letting in, some little Brook, or River, into the Garden; and, by this means, the Garden is watered much better, then by the former; and the earth remains with more moisture; and there will not be need, to water it so often; and the labour also of the Gardener, is much less. Or else, in fine, when there falls a good Shower of Rain upon the Garden, for then, the Lord himself waters it, without any labour at all, of ours; and this is, without comparison, the very far best way, of all the four.  
But now, for applying these four ways of useing Water, whereby this Garden of ours, is to be preserved (because a Garden without water, is to perish) that, which, me thinks, is to our purpose, is, that we may, by this Similitude, declare somewhat, of these four degrees of Prayer; into which, our Lord, through his goodness, hath sometimes brought my Soul. And I humbly beseech him, of his mercy, that I may hit right, upon what I am about to say; in such sort, as that it may be of use, and profit, to one of those persons, who commanded me to write thus much; and whom our Lord hath drawn further on, in four months, than I was able to get, in seaventeen years. But certainly, he disposed himself better; and so, the Gardener hath watered his Orchard, without any trouble at all, to the Party, with all these four kinds of Water; though the last of the four, have not yet, come to his turn, but by drops. But, the business goes on, in such sort, that by the favour, and help of our Lord, he will quickly ingulfe himself therein; and I shall be heartily glad, if he laugh at me, in case he find the manner of my declaring this Point in question, to have been impertinent.  
Of them, who begin to hold Prayer, we may say, that those are the persons, who draw water out of the Well, which uses to be very troublesome, as I have said; for they are likely, to take much pains, about recollecting their Senses; which having been used, to wander, and go scattered, up, and down, it is wont to be of trouble enough. These men 
* A good Lesson.  have therefore need, to go accustoming themselves, not to desire to see, or hear impertinent things; and to observe their hours of Prayer; and to love to be alone; and to consider the life, which they have lead; and to do it, hand to hand, by themselves. And though all these, whether they be, either of the First Degree, or of the Last, are to employ themselves upon these thoughts, very often; yet there is to be of the more, and of the less, in these cogitations; as I will show afterward. At first, they are wont, to be in some pain, because they use not, to be fully enough satisfied, that they repent themselves sufficiently of their Sins; and yet they fail not to do it, since they resolve to serve Almighty God, in so very good earnest. They must procure, to meditate much, upon the Life of Christ our Lord; though the Understanding, will perhaps, be weary of this. But yet hitherto, we may be able, to be of some help, to ourselves; I mean, together with the favour of our Lord; for, without this, the world knows well enough, that we are not able, so much as to have a good thought.  
Now, This is to begin, to draw Water out of a Well; and I pray God, there fall out to be any; but at least, the fault is not ours, if there be none; since we endeavour to draw it; and since we do, what we can, towards the watering of these Flowers. And Almighty God, is so very good, that when (for reasons, best known to his Divine Majesty, yea, and perhaps, even for our own greater good) he will have this Well, to be dry, he is pleased (so that still, we do our parts, like good Gardeners) to sustain these Flowers, without any Water at all; and to make our virtues grow. I mean here, by Water, Tears; whereof there may, peradventure, be none; as also no tenderness, or inward feeling of Devotion.  
But, what shall he do now, who sees, that, for the space of a long time, there is nothing but dryness, and disgust, and displeasure; and so little devotion also, to go draw any more Water, out of the Well? For, certainly, if he did not remember, that he doth some kind of pleasure, and service, to the Lord of the Garden, and did not take care, not to lose all the labour, which he hath already undergone, and the hope also of getting more, by so great pains, as he takes, to cast the Bucket so often into the Well, and to bring it back, without any water at all; without doubt, he would give over, outright. And, many times, it shall also happen to him, upon this occasion, that he will not so much as stir his hand; nor will he be able, so much as to continue in one good thought; for, already, it is to be granted, that this way of working, by the employment of the Understanding, is a striving, to draw Water out of a Well.  
But now, as I was saying, what is the Gardener to do in this case? I 
* A consideration of much comfort.  answer, that he is to rejoice, and to receive much comfort; and to esteem it, for an incomparable Favour, that he may be suffered, to labour, and work in the Garden, of so great an Emperor, as God is. And, since he knows, that he gives contentment to his Divine Majesty thereby, (for, the gust, & service of God, & not the Gardeners own, is to be his maine, and final scope) let him give God glory, and praise, who proceeds with him, and treats him, in so confident a manner; since he gives him grace, to have so great care of doing that, which he recommended to him, though he do not pay him yet, for his pains. And let this Gardener still, help our Lord, to carry his Cross; and remember, that the same Lord, lived, and lay upon the same Cross, all his life. And let not this man desire, to enjoy his Kingdom here, in this World; nor ever once give-over his Prayer; but let him rather resolve, that, though his dryness of sensible indevotion, should last with him, as long, as his life, yet he will never give occasion, that Christ our Lord should fall down, with his Cross. For, at least, the time will certainly come, when he shall receive all his wages, at one payment; and let him never fear, that his labour can possibly be lost; for, he serves a very good Master, who stands looking earnestly upon him. And let him make no account at all, of ill thoughts, but consider, that the Devil did also vex S. Hierome with them, in the very Wilderness. But those labours, have their price, and recompense, set out for them; and I assure you, as a person, who have spent many years, in the feeling thereof, that, when sometimes I came to draw, and get but some one single drop of water, out of this blessed Well, I thought, that God did me a great Favour.  
I know well, that these troubles are very great; and I conceive, that there is more need of courage, for supporting them, then for many other things, of this world; but yet I have seen clearly, that God leaves them not, without great reward, even in this life. For it is most certain, that, with one of these hours of gust, of himself, which he hath given me here, afterwards I esteem all those sad afflictions, to have been very well rewarded, which I sustained, in all the former time, of my continuing the use of Prayer. As for me, I hold, that our Lord will give these torments (together with many other temptations, which occur) many times, in the beginning; and at other times, towards the end; to try, who are his true Lovers; and to know if they can drink of his Chalice, and will help him, to bear his Cross, before he will depositate so great treasures in them. And I conceive, that his Divine Majesty is resolved to carry us on, by this way, to the end, that we may first understand well, how little we are worth; for, the Favours, which sometimes he imparts afterward, are of so great dignity, that he will, first, have us see our misery, by experience, before he impart those great Favours, to us; lest otherwise, that should happen to us, which did to Lucifer.  
But, what is it, O my Lord, which thou art doing? Were 
* A hard question, most clearly, and excellently answered.  it not better, for the good of that Soul, which thou knowest, to be already thine, and which puts itself into thy hands, to follow thee, whithersoever thou wilt go, though it were even to the very death of the Cross; and to resolve to help thee to carry it, and never to leave thee alone, under that burden? No; for, whosoever finds this resolution in himself, hath nothing left for him, to fear. Spiritual persons have no reason at all, to be afflicted, who are already placed, in so eminent condition, as it is, to treat with God, hand to hand; and to forsake the idle pastimes of this world. The greatest part of your business is dispatched already; and praise you his Divine Majesty for the same, and confide very fully in his goodness; for he never yet failed his friends. Shut-vp the eyes of your Mind, from considering, why he gives sensible devotion to another, in so few days; and not to me, in so many years. Let us believe, and know, that all this, is done by him, for our greater good; and let his Divine Majesty conduct us, by what way he will; for now, we are no longer our own, but his; and he doth us Favour enough, in permitting us, to dig in his Garden, and to suffer us to be so near the Lord thereof. For it is certain, that he remains with us; and whether he be pleased, that the Plants, and Flowers, of his Garden, may grow, or not grow, either more or less, what is that to the purpose? Do thou dispose so, of things, O Lord, as shall please thee best; and let me, only, not offend thee; nor let my virtues be lost, if thou have given me any. I am resolved, O Lord, to suffer, since thou wouldst suffer; and thy Will, be accomplished in me, in all kinds; and let not thy Divine Majesty be pleased, that a thing of so high value, as thy Love, may ever be given to any such people, as will not serve thee, but only for delights, and gusts.  
It is here to be noted much, (and I speak it, because I know the truth of it, by experience) that the Soul, which begins to walk in this way of Mental Prayer, with firm purpose, & can bring herself once, to a final resolution, neither to be comforted, nor discomforted greatly, because our Lord doth either give, or not give these spiritual gusts, or tenderness of devotion, hath already passed through a very great part of his way. And let him not once think of turning back, how much soever he may falter, or stumble; for, his Building is laid, and grounded, upon a firm Foundation.  
So that, the true Love of God, consists not, in having tears, or tenderness, or Spiritual gusts, which we are wont, for the most part, to desire, and to take comfort in; but to serve his Divine Majesty, with 
* Mark well these masculine, and massy words.  justice, and Fortitude, and Humility. For, in that other course, me thinks, we are rather on the taking hand, then on the giving, any thing of our own. As for poor, weak, silly women, and who are of little courage, like me, me thinks I could find it fit, that our Lord, should carry them on, with Regalo; that so, they might be the better induced, to suffer those afflictions, which it hath pleased his Divine Majesty, that they should bear. But, for the true Servants of God; men of Substance, and solid ways; men of Learning, and Understanding, to make so much reflection, upon God's not giving them tenderness of Devotion, as, I see, they do, I confess, it gives me disgust, even to hear it. I say not, but that they should receive these Spiritual delights, when God gives them; yea, and that they should esteem them very much; because, in that case, his Divine Majesty, will have seen, that they were convenient for them; but only, that, when they have them not, they should not vex themselves; and that they should also understand, that, when God gives them not, they are not convenient for them; but that they ought to be, and remain the Lords of themselves, in all things. Let them believe, that this is a defect, and fault, in them; for I have seen, and tried it. Let them believe, that this is an imperfection; and that it is not, to walk on, with Liberty of Spirit, but rather like weak, and cowardly people, who dare not set upon difficulties. And I say not this, so much for them, who are but beginners; (though yet I press it so far, because it imports very much, that they begin with this Liberty of Spirit, and resolution) but even for others also. For, there are many, who have already begun, and yet, who never, in fine, resolve upon doing heerin, home, what they ought; and I believe, that this proceeds, in great part, from their not resolving to take up, and carry this Cross, from the very beginning. For, such shall go on, still afflicted, as conceauing, that all that, is nothing, which they do; because when the Understanding gives-over to work, and act, they use not to be able to endure it; and yet, perhaps, they will grow even fat, and strong, at the very self same time, though themselves understand it not, to be so.  
We are to think, and know, that our Lord doth not consider, and care for these things; for, howsoever ourselves may think, that they are faults, yet they are not so, indeed; and his Divine Majesty knows our misery, and base condition, much better, than ourselves; and considers, that these Souls desire to be thinking always, upon him; and that they desire, to love him. And this is that firm purpose, which he values, and expects at our hands. But, that other, is but an affliction, which we bring upon ourselves; for it serves but to disquiet the Soul, and to give occasion, that, if before, it were unable, to take any benefit, by serving God, for one hour, it may now be so, for four. And, many times (for I have very great experience of this case, and know it to be true, because I have both considered it with care, and have also treated about it, with Spiritual persons) this grows, even from our corporal indisposition; for we are so very totally infirm, that this poor, little, wretched Soul of ours, participates in the miseries of the Body; and even the alteration of the weather, and the revolution of their own natural humours, are, many times, the occasion, why, (without even any fault of their own,) they cannot well do, even what they would, but are fain to suffer thus, in all kinds. And, when they strive to force themselves, in these coniunctures of time, it proves to be so much the worse with them; and the inconvenience will last, so much the longer. But, discretion must be used heerin, to weigh, when this Effect proceeds from this Cause; and they must not oppress, and stifle this poor Soul, but understand, and consider, that it is sick. Let the hour of Prayer, in God's name, be changed; yea, and many times it will be fit, to do so, for some days; and let them pass through this banishment of theirs, as well as they can; since it is misfortune, and misery enough, for a Soul, which doth indeed, love Almighty God, to see, that she lives in so great misery; and that she is no way able to do, even what herself desires, in regard, that she is lodged, with so untoward, and ill an Host, as this Body is.  
I said, this was to be done, with discretion; because sometimes, the Devil will be a cause of these things; and therefore it is good, neither always to leave the usual & set time of Prayer, whensoever there may be great disturbance, and distraction, in the Understanding; nor yet always, to stand tormenting the Soul, towards the making it do more, than it can. There are also other exterior works of Charity, & of reading also, which may be used; though yet sometimes, the Soul will not be so much as fit, even for that; but, in that case, let the Mind be even subject, as it were, to the Body, for the love of Almighty God, since, many other times, the Body serves the Soul; and let the Party, in such cases, take the entertainment, and pastime of conversation, with others, so that it be holy; or divert himself, with going a little abroad, to take the Air; as the Ghostly Father shall advise. For, Experience is a great Schoolmistress, in all things, towards the giving any one to understand, what may be fit; and, Almighty God is served, in all this business; for, his Yoke is sweet; and it is a thing of much importance, that the Soul be not servilely dragged, (as one may say) but that it be carried sweetly on, towards the receiving of more benefit, and profit.  
So that I advice, again, and again, (for though I say it often, it will do no hurt, because the matter imports so much) that no body is to afflict, nor oppress himself, either through drynesses, or disquiets, or distraction of thoughts; nor yet to go, up, and down, with any such kind of tribulation, if they pretend to gain Liberty of Spirit. But let him once begin, not to be in such a fright, upon the sight of the Cross; and he shall see, how our Blessed Lord will help him to bear it; and what contentment he will grow to have; and how he will be able, to make his profit of all things. For, already, we may sufficiently perceive, that, if there be no Spring of Water in the Well, we know not, how to put any there. True it is, that we must, by no means, be negligent, and careless, but endeavour to draw it out, if there be any; because then, our Lord is pleased to multiply our virtues, by that means.   

THE TWELFTH CHAPTER.  
She prosecutes her Discourse, of the First State, or Degree of Prayer; and declares, how far we may arrive of ourselves, by the Favour of our Lord; And of the hurt it brings, to desire, that our Spirit may rise to Supernatural, and Extraordinary things, till our Lord himself be pleased, to ordain it.  
THat, which I pretended to give to be understood, in the last Chapter (though yet I diverted myself much, upon other things, in regard, that I thought them very necessary) was, to declare, how much we might be able, to acquire; and how, in this First part of our devotions, we might, to some proportion, help ourselves; because the considering, and ruminating upon that, which our Lord suffered for us, is wont to move us to compassion; and the sorrow, and tears, which grow from thence, is a very savoury, and delightful kind of thing. And so, to think of the Glory, for which we hope, and of the Love, which our Lord bore us; as also of his Resurrection; moves us to joy, which is neither wholly Spiritual, nor wholly Sensual; but this is a virtuous kind of joy, on the one side, as, on the other, that former pain, is very meritorious; And of this sort, are all those things, which cause any such devotion, as is acquired in part, by the Understanding; though yet there be no merit, nor gain therein, unless Almighty God be pleased to give it.  
But now, it will be very fit, for a Soul, which our Lord hath not raised any higher, not to procure to exalt herself; and let this be very well noted; for, the contrary course will help her to nothing, but loss. In this Degree, or State, she may perform many good acts, by way of resolving to do great things for Almighty God; and to awake, and stirr-up her love, and others also, by way of assisting herself, to grow-up in several virtues; according to what is contained in a certain Book, called, The Art of serving God; which is a very good one, and very proper for such as find themselves in this State; because the Understanding doth act, and exercise itself, here. She may also represent herself, as in the presence of Christ our Lord; and accustom herself, to be greatly enamoured, with his most Sacred Humanity; and to be ever carrying that, along in her company; and to be often speaking to it; and to beg his continual assistance, in all her necessities; and even to complain to him, of her afflictions; and to joy with him, for her contentments, and gusts; but yet, not to forget him, upon occasion thereof; And all this, without procuring to express herself, in any set kind of Prayers, but to make use of such words alone, as may have conformity with her own necessities, and desires.  
This is an 
* Note.  excellent way of finding profit, and that in a very short time; and, whosoever shall earnestly labour, to carry this precious company with himself, and shall have proceeded well therein, and shall have found the way of loving, in very good earnest, this Lord of ours, to whom we owe so much, I will give, and pass my word, that this person, is a very good Proficient. For this purpose, let it not trouble us a whitt, not to find ourselves with sensible devotion, as I have said; but let us give thanks to our Lord, for giving us so good desires, to please him, though our works be weak.  
This way of carrying Christ our Lord in our company, is very useful in all the Four States, and Degrees of Prayer. It is a most secure, and safe means, to go profiting in the First Degree; and that we shall get quickly, to the Second; and then to be free also, in the two last, from those dangers, which the Devil may provide for us. For, this, in fine, is that, which we may be able to do; and for any body to passe-up from hence, and to exalt his Spirit, towards the feeling of certain gusts, which are not allowed him, is but, in my opinion, to lose, both the one, and the other; because, in fine, that, is all Supernatural; and so, the Understanding being at a Stand, and lost, the Soul remains all desolate, and with great dryness. And, since this whole Building is grounded upon Humility, the nearer we grow to Almighty God, the more shall we proceed, and profit, in this Virtue; and if we do not this, all is lost. And it seems to be no better, than a kind of pride, if we desire to get-up to a higher rank, since God doth us but too much honour, and favour (considering, how unworthy we are) in suffering us, to be so near, to himself.  
But now, it must not be so understood, as if I spoke all this, against raising-up our thoughts, to consider the high things of Heaven, or of God, or of the greatnesses, which are there above; as also of his Incomparable Wisdom. For though I never did this, because I had no ability for this purpose, (as I have said) and I found myself so miserable, and so mean, that God did me particular favour, to enable me, to think of earthly things, by means whereof, I might come afterward to understand this truth; (for even this, was no small adventure for me; and how much more was it so, to consider Celestial things) yet others may take benefit hereby; and especially, if they have Learning, and Knowledge, which is, in my opinion, a great treasure, towards this exercise of Prayer, if it be accompanied with Humility. I have seen the truth of this, very lately, by occasion of some learned men, who begun not long ago, and yet have proceeded, and profited very much; which makes me have an earnest, and even a kind of impatient desire, that many such, as are learned, would grow to be very Spiritual men, whereof I shall give the reason hereafter.  
But now, that which I have said, Namely, That men must not exalt themselves, to rise higher, than God doth raise them, is a certain kind of Language of Spirit; and he will understand me, who hath experience of it; but as for me, I know not, how to express it, if he know not, how to understand me, by what I have said.  
In Mystical Theology (whereof I began to speak) the Understanding ceases from working, because Almighty God 
* This suspending of the Thought or Understanding, of which the Saint speaks, is a presenting a multitude of Supernatural, and Divine Objects before it; together with a copious infusion of Light, which is discerned by it, after a kind of intuitive way at once, without discourse, or trouble: And this Light rests not there, but passes-on to the Will, and grows to be, as so much Fire, for the inflameing it, in the Love of our Lord. And the Soul doth more properly suffer here, then act. And now the Saint gives great warning, that people be not so foolish, as to offer at these things, of themselves.  suspends it; as I will declare hereafter, if I be able, and if he give me grace, for that purpose. But as for us, to presume, yea, or so much as to think of suspending it, is that, which I am saying, we should not do. Nor must we leave to act, and work thereby, and therewith; for if we do, we shall be stupid, and sottish, and cold; and we shall effect, neither the one, nor the other. But when our Lord suspends, and stopps it, he furnishes it with matter, upon which, the Party may employ himself, and at which, he may be amazed; and he makes him understand more, in the time, and space of saying one Credo, (though yet still, not by way of Discourse) than we could tell, how to understand, with all our humane diligences of this world, in the compass of many years. But now, to exercise, and employ the Powers of the Mind, and yet, the while, to think of making them stand at a stay, is a senseless kind of fancy, and foolery. And I say, and say again (though perhaps, it be not well understood) that this, is no act of any great Humility; and though it should not be guilty of being a fault, yet it will not fail to be subject, to the punishment; for at least, it will be all labour lost; and the Soul finds itself to remain with an odd little kind of disgust; as when a man goes to leap, when yet men hold him fast, by the back. For such an one seems already, to have employed all his strength, to do somewhat which he desired, and yet finds himself, without effecting, what he pretended. And so, whosoever will consider the matter well, shall come to discern, by the slender gain, which he made, this little half invisible dust of the want of Humility, whereof I spoke. For, in fine, this virtue hath that excellency, amongst others, in it, That there is no work, or action, in the world, if it be accompanied with that virtue, which will ever leave the Soul, in disgust. There were divers 
A great truth.  years, when I was wont to read many things, and yet understood none of them all; and there was, afterward also, a long time, when, though God gave me ability to understand, yet could I not speak a word, wherewith to make it be understood, by others; and this point cost me no small labour. But, when his Divine Majesty hath a mind to teach it, he doth it so, & all at an instant, that I am amazed. And one thing I can say with much truth, that though I spoke with many Spiritual persons, who had a mind to make me understand, what our Lord imparted to me, that so, I might the better declare things, in particular, and clear manner, to them; it is certain, that my dulness was so great, as that their discourse was not of any use to me, at all. And perhaps our Blessed Lord (as his Divine Majesty vouchsafed still, to be my Master; & let him be blessed for ever, since it is confusion enough for me, to be able to say thus much, with truth) was pleased, that I should have no body, to thank for it, but himself; and that, without my desiring, or even wishing it, (for in this, I was not a whitt curious, wherein it might have been a virtue, to be so; but I was so, about the vanities of the world) he would give me to understand, and comprehend it, with all clarity; yea and so, as that I could unfold it also, to others; in such sort, as that men were amazed at it; and myself more, than any of my Ghostly Fathers; because I understood mine own dulness, better than they. Nor is it any long time, since this happened to me; and so I procure not to know those things, which our Lord hath not taught me, but I only consider, and take care of them, so far, as whereby my Conscience may be concerned.  
I return yet once again, to advise, and declare, that it will import us very much, not to 
* A dangerous, & proud, foolish error.  elevate, and raise our Spirit, unless our Lord be pleased to elevate, and raise it; which if he do, it will instantly be understood; and especially, this is more dangerous for women; for, the Devil may bring some illusion upon them; though yet withal, I hold it for very certain, that our Lord will not permit, that the Devil should be able to hurt any such person, as shall procure to approach his Divine Majesty with Humility; but rather that he shall be able, to give himself more advantage, and profit, by that, whereby the Devil meant to destroy him. But now, in regard, that this way of beginners, in the exercise of Mental Prayer, is more beaten, and because the admonitions, which I have given, import much, I have enlarged myself, thus far; though yet, others will certainly have written much better of it. But thus much do I confess; and I have expressed myself heerin, with abundance of confusion, and shame, though yet still, not with so much, as I ought to have had. Let our Lord be ever Blessed for all, since he permits, and is pleased, that so miserable a Creature, as I, should speak of things, belonging to his Divine Majesty; and those things, such, and so high.   

THE THIRTEENTH CHAPTER.  
She proceeds in this First Degree, and State of Prayer; and gives advice against some temptations, which the Devil is sometimes want to bring. This Discourse is very profitable.  
I Have thought fit, to speak here, of certain temptations, which I have found, to be brought against some, in their beginning, to use Mental Prayer; and some I have felt myself; and I will also give some advice, which I hold to be necessary, heerin. Let therefore a 
* Observe the generous way of this great Saint.  beginner procure, to goeon with great alacrity, and Liberty of Spirit; for, there be some, who are apt to think, that all their devotion is instantly to vanish, if they do never so little amiss, therein. It is true, that it will be very fit, to continue in a holy doubt, and fear, of themselves, that so they may not be confident at all, to put themselves into any occasion, wherein our Lord is wont to be offended; for it will ever be very necessary, to use this actual diligence, till one be very entire, in the possession of virtue; and there are not many, who may be so very confident of themselves, as that, in such occasions, which have 
* Note this very well.  conformity with their natural disposition, and inclination, they may be out of care, and fear. And, in fine, it will ever be fit, that so long, as we shall live, in this world, we consider our miserable nature; though it were but even for the continual exercise of humility; but there are many times, when it is permitted, as I have said, to be taking recreation, though it were but to enable us the better, to return the more encouraged, and fortified, towards the making of Prayer. In all things, it will ever be needful, to use discretion; and withal, to have great confidence, in God; for it is, by no means, fit, to go lessening, & diminishing our desires, but to believe of Almighty God, that, if we will endeavour earnestly; by little and little, we may, by the favour of his Divine Majesty, arrive, though it be not presently, where many Saints have arrived; who, if they had never resolved to aspire to Perfection, and had not also endeavoured, by little and little, to acquire it, would never have been able, to obtain so high a State. His Divine Majesty, is a very great friend, and favourer of 
* A great praise of a large hart.  courageous Souls; so that withal, they proceed with Humility, & not with any confidence, in themselves; and I have yet never seen any one of this kind, who hath continued to remain in a very inferior degree, in this way; nor never also, any one cowardly Soul (though yet withal, it had the safeguard of Humility) which was able to make so much way, in many years, as I have found those others do, in very few. I am even amazed, when I consider, how much it works in this kind, for one to animate himself, towards the doing of great things; though instantly he may, perhaps, not have force, where with to perform. For, the Soul puts herself to make a Flight, and arrives to be, in a high place, though yet, like some young Bird, she be not so well feathered yet; and therefore, as being weary, she can but pause, and hover. In former time, I often remembered, and considered, what S. Paul affirms of himself, Namely, That he could do all things, in God, who comforted him; for, as for me, I knew well, that I could do nothing of myself. But, that Saying of his, did me very much good; & so also, did this other of S. Augustin: Give me, O Lord, what thou commandest; and then command me, what thou wilt. And, for my part, I thought also many times, that S. Peter had lost nothing by the bargain, when he cast himself headlong into the Sea though yet he were afraid, afterward. In a word, these first strong purposes, and resolutions, are a great matter, though yet, in this First Degree, and State, it is fit, that we go detaining ourselves, and hold ourselves fast tied, to the discretion, and disposing of a Director; but then, we must procure, that he may be such an one, as will not teach us, to leap heavily, and dully, like certain Toads; nor be content, that our Souls dispose themselves, to hunt, those little weak beasts, called Lizards; Only Humility must ever go before, that so we may besure to understand, that this strength doth not grow from ourselves.  
But here, it will be necessary for us, to know, what kind of Humility, this of ours, must be; and I am very apt to think, that the Devil does much hurt, towards the making such, as exercise Prayer, not to advance themselves very much, in their way, by causing them to mis-understand Humility; and by procuring to make us believe, that it is but a kind of pride, to have Heroical desires; and to pretend, to imitate Saints; and to desire, to be Martyrs. For, upon this, he tells us, and makes us think, that the actions of Saints, are fit to be admired, but not to be imitated, by us, who are Sinners. This do I also say, as well as he; only we must consider, what, in particular, is fit for 
* How Saints are to be imitated; & how, admired.  admiration; and what, for imitation. For it would be no way convenient, that a person, who were sick, and weak, should put himself, upon great Fasts, and sharp Pennances; or should betake himself to the Wilderness, where he might neither be able to sleep, nor yet could get, what to eat; or the like. But yet, we ought to think, that we may well endeavour earnestly, by God's Favour, to hold the world, in great contempt; and not to esteem earthly honour; and not to remain tyed-up to the care of riches. But we really, have hearts so very poor, and strait, that it seems to us, as if we could not have ground enough, to go upon, if once we should lay the care of our Body, never so little aside, to give it, to the Soul.  
It seems therefore here already, that, even for the better enjoying of Recollection, it will be good, that we be in no want of necessary things; for, any kind of care, will be able to disquiet men, in Prayer. And I am heartily sorry, that we should have so little confidence in God, and so much love of ourselves, as that we should be disquieted, by this thought. But the truth is, that, wheresoever men have made so small progress, as this, in the way of Spirit, certain fooleries, will trouble some, as much, as greater, and more substantial matters, will do others; and yet still (in our way of understanding) we will needs presume ourselves, to be Spiritual persons. It seems to me, that this kind of way of proceeding, shows a desire in them, to put the Body, and Mind, into such a concurrence, and correspondence, as that we would fain find means, to take our ease in this world, and yet enjoy God, in the next; and that conceit will prove to be true, if we live according to justice, and continue, to stick close to Virtue; but yet still, this is but the pace of a Henn, and it will never be able to bring us on, to enjoy true Liberty of Spirit. This seems, indeed, to be a good way of proceeding, for such as are in state of Marriage, who are to carry themselves, according to their Vocation; but for any other state, then that, I do, by no means, desire, any such kind of profiting in Spirit, as this; nor shall they ever make me believe, that it is a good one; for I have tried it, long enough; and I had ever continued, in that way, if our Lord, through his infinite goodness, had not showed me another, and a shorter cut; though yet withal, it be true, that I had ever great desires; but I procured (as I have said) to use Prayer; though yet still, to live withal, at my pleasure. But really, I conceive, that if any body would have encouraged me, to fly a higher pitch, I should have striven hard, to make those desires, prove deeds. But alas, it is true, that through our Sins, there are so very few, and may so quickly be counted, who have any more discretion, then is necessary, for such occurrences, as these, that, I believe, it is a great part of the cause, why such, as are beginners, can get no faster on, towards great perfection; for, our Lord doth never fail, on his part; but it is we, who are still the faulty, and miserable Creatures.  
They may also be able, to imitate the Saints; in procuring to use Solitude, and keep Silence; and to exercise many other virtues, which, will yet, by no means, murder this miserable Body, which they desire to preserve, with such curiosity, & care, though it should turn to the disorder of the Soul. And now, the Devil is careful enough, to help to render us the more unable; for, when he sees but a little inordinate fear, he desires no more, then to make us apprehend, that every thing, will be apt to kill us; or at least, to deprive us of our health; yea and if we be accustomed to have tears, he will put us into a fear, that we shall be blind. Myself have passed by this Walk, & therefore I know it; and I know withal, that I cannot tell, what better kind of life, or health, we can possibly desire, then to lose them both, upon such an occasion. Myself, being so sickly as I was, till I resolved to make no account at all, of my health, and of my body, was ever tied up, and was good for nothing; and even now, it is very little, which I can do. But yet, as soon as our Lord was pleased, that I should understand this deceit, and trick of the Devil, if he objected to me, my loss of health, I told him, it imported little, that I must die; If he tempted me with love of rest, and ease, I told him, that it was not ease which I needed now, but the sufferance of a Cross; And so also, in other things. For I saw clearly, that, in very many, it was either a temptation of the Devil, or mine own lazines; though yet, in very deed, I be sickly enough. But howsoever, I now enjoy much better health, since I am not so very curious, and dainty, as I was, than I did before. And it is therefore of great importance, for them, who begin to hold Mental Prayer, that they do not subtilise too much, with their thoughts. And let them believe me heerin; for I know it by experience; and perhaps it may be of good use, for me, to recount my faults, that so, others may take warning by me.  
There is also another temptation, and it is very usual; To desire, forsooth, that every body might grow to be very Spiritual, when once themselves begin, to taste of this great Quiet; & how much, is to be gained by this means. It is not an ill thing, to desire it; but to procure it, may peradventure not be good; unless much discretion, and, as it were, dissimulation, be used, in doing it so, as that they seem not, to take upon them, to teach; for, such as will procure to do good, upon their neighbours, in such cases as this, had need have their own virtues very strong; lest else, they breed temptation for others. It happened just thus to me, and therefore I understand it; that when (as I was saying) I procured, that others might use Mental Prayer, and on the one side, they heard me speak of high matters, and of the great benefit, which it brought, to use that exercise; and when they saw, on the other, how very poor I was, in point of virtue, I occasioned them to be tempted, and disordered; and they were so, with reason enough; and themselves told me as much, afterward. For they knew not, how it was possible, for one of those things, to be compatible with the other; and it caused them not to think that, to be ill, which yet, indeed, was so; because, forsooth, they saw me do it sometimes, when they held a good opinion of me. And this doth the Devil effect, who, it seems, can serve his turn, even of the virtues, which we have; that so, he may, the better, grow to authorise the mischief, which he desires to do us; and how little soever that be, in itself, yet when that is done, in a Community, he gains very much, by the bargain; and how much more, when that, which I did ill, was very ill. And so, in many years, there were only three persons, who took benefit, by what I told them; and, when our Lord was already pleased, to bestow more strength of virtue upon me, they were many, who profited by me, even in two or three years; as I will show afterward.  
Besides, there is this other great inconvenience, that the Soul loses her progress in virtue; for the chief thing, which she is to procure at first, is only to take care of herself alone; and to make account, that there is not, in the whole world, any one thing, but God, and She. And this is a certain point, which imports the same Soul, very much.  
There is also yet another temptation (and all, such as this, show themselves ever, with a kind of zeal of virtue; and they are fit to be understood; and that we walk with much circumspection) and this is a trouble, which men receive, from the defects, and faults, which they discern, in others. For, the Devil procures to make us believe, that this grief is entertained by us, but only, because we would nor have them offend Almighty God; and that forsooth, we are troubled, because his honour is interessed thereby; and than it comes presently in, that we would fain procure to redress it; and this care disquiets us so much, that it hinders our Prayer; yea and the greatest mischief of all, is, that we think, that this is virtue, and perfection, and great zeal of God's service. I speak not of those afflictions, which public Sins must give, when they are usually committed by a Community, or when they grow to be of prejudice to the Church; as these Heresies do, whereby we find so many Souls to be lost; for this is a very good affliction, and trouble; and, in regard, that it is so good, it disorders not, and disturbs not him, who hath it. But 
* Note this well.  the secure way, for that Soul, which desires to give itself to Prayer, is to seek to forget, both all things, and all persons; and to attend, to keep all reckonings straight with herself; and so, to give contentment to Almighty God. Now, this is both very convenient, and important; and if I should stand to tell you, what errors I have seen fallout to be committed, upon the confidence, which men have put in their good intentions, I should never make an end. Let us therefore always procure, to consider the virtues, and good works, which we shall discern in others; and to shut our eyes, from seeing their defects, by the consideration of our own great Sins. Now, this is a kind of working, wherein, though we arrive not instantly, to do it with perfection, yet we come thereby, to gain a great virtue, which is, to hold every body better, than ourselves; and we begin, to get it, through the Favour of Almighty God, whereof we have need, in all things. For, whensoever that is wanting to us, all other diligences, serve to little purpose; and we must therefore humbly pray him, to bestow this grace, upon us, wherein certainly, he will not be wanting, if we be as careful, as we ought. Let them also consider well of this advice, who use to discourse much, with the Understanding; and have power to draw many considerations, and conceits, out of some one. For, as for them, who are not able to work with this Faculty (as I can not) there is no cause of giving them this advice; but only, that they will be content, to have patience, till our Lord shall be pleased, to help them to matter, upon which to work; and light, where with to know, how to do it; Since they are able, to perform so little, for themselves, as that their Understanding part, doth rather give them trouble, than help.  
But, returning now to such others, as are able to serve themselves of Discourse, they must take care, that their whole time, be not spent in that; for, howsoever it be very meritorious, yet, conconsidering how savoury a thing, they conceive, that Mental Prayer should be, they fear, that they shall never live, to see Sunday, nor any Season, wherein they are not to labour, and drudge; and therefore, they presently think, that all their hopes are lost; though, for my part, I conceive, that all that Loss, is Gain. But let them, 
* A necessary Advice.  as I have said, represent themselves, as in the presence of Christ our Lord; and, without wearying of the Understanding, be speaking, and regaling themselves, with him; and not tyre their wits, to find out, and frame certain Discourses; but let them only present their necessities, and the reason, which he may have, not so much as to endure them, there. Some one of these considerations will serve, at one time; and some other, at an other; that so the Soul may not be weary, of feeding always upon one dish.  
These particulars, are both very gustful, and very profitable also, if once the Party be accustomed to feed on them; for they use to bring great support, and strength, for the life of the Soul, & many advamtages also, otherwise. I will declare myself further upon this matter; because all these points, concerning Prayer, carry their difficulties along with them; and, unless there be a good Director, at hand, they are very hard to be understood. And this is the very cause, why, though I would fain make short, and that justly, (because it would suffice for me, but even to touch them, by reason of the great capacity of him, who commanded me to write these particulars, of Prayer,) yet my dulness, is not able to declare, & explicate, in few words, a thing, which it so much imports, to be well understood. And, because I suffered so very much, by using only Books, when I began the exercise of Prayer, I have compassion of all them, who do so too; for it is no less than strange, to see, how far otherwise Books are wont to be understood, than men see they ought to have been, when once they come, to have had experience of these things.  
But now (to return to what I was saying) let us put ourselves, to consider some passage of the Passion of our Blessed Lord; and, for example, let it be that, when he was tied to the Pillar. And here, let the Understanding search-out the cause of those great dolours, and afflictions, which his Divine Majesty felt, in that Solitude of his; as also, upon many other things, which, (if the Understanding be good at working; or else, if he have Learning) he may easily be able, to fetch from thence. And this is a manner of Prayer, wherein all Creatures may both begin, and proceed, and make an end; and it will be a very excellent, and secure way, till our Lord, may, perhaps, carry them on, to other things, which are supernatural. I say, for all; though yet there be many Souls, which profit more, by other Meditations, then by that of the Sacred Passion. For, as there are many Mansions in Heaven, when a Soul is there: so are there also many ways thither. Some, profit more, by considering Heaven; and some, afflict themselves best, by thinking of Hell; others, by reflecting upon Death; and some, if they be very tender-hearted, are too much troubled, and vexed, if they always go ruminating upon the Passion; and they regale themselves better, yea, and they also profit more, by considering the Power, and Greatness of Almighty God, in his Works; and the Love, he bears us; which they find to be represented to them, in all his Creatures. And this is an admirable way of proceeding, though yet still, we must neither forget, nor forbear, to consider the Life, and Passion of our Blessed Lord, very often; that, in fine, being the very thing, from which, all our good, both ever did, and ever can arrive to us.  
He, who is a Beginner, had need be careful, to consider very well, what that is, whereby he profits most; and to this purpose, he will have great need of a Director, if he can meet with an experienced man; for if he be not so, in good measure, he may chance err, by carrying a Soul on, without either understanding her, himself; or else, giving her to be understood, by the Party. For, as the Party cannot but know, of how great merit it is, for him, to subject himself to a Director: so he will not presume, to depart from that, which the other shall direct. I have met with certain Souls, which have been afflicted, and dejected, and straightened, because he, who had the instructing them, wanted experience; and I was heartily sorry for them; And some also I have seen, who knew not, what to do with themselves; for they, not understanding matter of Spirit, afflicted themselves, both in Body, and Soul; and, the while, were sure enough, not to benefit others. One of them told me once, of a Director of hers, who would not suffer her, in eight years together, to pass on, out of the consideration of the knowledge of herself; and yet our Lord had her then, in the condition, and degree of Quiet Prayer; but so, she was in trouble enough. And, though it be very true, that this point of the knowledge of ones self, is never, indeed, to be utterly given over; nor is any Soul in the way of Prayer, to think, she hath so much of the Giant in her, as not to understand, that many times, she must turn Child, and suck again; and this must never be forgotten; and perhaps, I shall also speak often of it again, in regard, that it imports so much; because there is no State of Prayer so high, wherein it will not be necessary, to turne-againe often, to the beginning. And this point of the knowledge of ourselves, and of our Sins, is the daily 
* Our daily Bread.  bread, which must be eaten, with all the meat (how delicate soever it may be) of such, as are in this way of Prayer; yea and without this very bread, they will never be able, to support, and strengthen themselves; yet must even this, be taken, by weight, and measure. For, when once a Soul finds herself laid very flat, and low; and sees clearly, that she hath no good thing of her own; and finds herself to be full of confusion, and shame, so much as to appear in the presence of so great a King; and the little, which she is able to pay him, for the very much, which she finds herself, to owe him; what necessity is there, to spend so very much time, upon this, without applying ourselves to such other things, as our Lord may, perhaps, set before us, and which it will not be reason for us, to leave; since his Divine Majesty knows better, than we, upon what, it is convenient for us to feed.  
So that it imports us very much, that the 
* A description of a good Director in matter of Spirit.  Director be well advised, & I mean also, that he be of good understanding, and experience; and if, with this, he be also learned, it will be of mighty importance. But yet still, when all these three parts shall not chance, to meet together, in the same man, the two former qualities of these three, will fall out, to import more, than the third, because they may easily procure to consult with such as are learned, whensoever they shall have need thereof; but as for Beginners, learned men, if they possess not the use of Prayer, can be of little profit to them. Yet I say not, that they should not treat, and confer with such men, as are learned; for, as for having a Spirit, which should not be first settled in a way of truth, for my part, I had rather have it without Prayer. For, Learning is a great matter, since it instructs us, who know little; and brings us light; and when we approach near to the truths of Holy Scripture, we begin to do that, which we ought; but as for silly, and foolish devotions, our Lord deliver us from them. I will declare myself yet better; for I fear, I put myself upon too many things at once, though I ever wanted means, to know, how to give myself to be well understood, (as I have said) but upon the expense of many words.  
A Religious Woman, for example's sake, will begin to use Prayer; and in case some silly kind of man, direct, and govern her, he will, if the toy take him in the head, give her to understand, that it is better for her, to obey him, than her Superior; yea, and he will do it, without any malice, at all; as conceauing, that he is in the right. And now she being a Religious woman, will be likely enough, to think, that he says true. And if she be a married woman, he will tell her, that it is best for her, even when she ought to be about her household businesses, to exercise herself in Prayer; though it were to be, to the disgust of her husband. So that, she knows not, how to dispose of her time, nor of her businesses, in such sort, as that all may go, according to reason, and truth; because, in fine, that Directour wants light; and not having any himself, he cannot give it to others, though he would never so fain. And though, in order to this end, it seem, that there is no great need of Learning; yet as for me, my opinion both is, and ever will be, that all Christians shall do well, to treat with such men, about their Souls, as are well learned; and so much the more, so much the better; and they, who go by the way of Prayer, have yet more need, than others, to meet with such men; and so, the more they shall be also Spiritual, the better will it be for them, still. And let not folks deceive themselves, with saying, That, learned men, without the exercise of Prayer, are not to the purpose, for them, who use Prayer; for I have dealt with many; and for some of these latter years, I have endeavoured it the more, because then, I found myself in more necessity. But I was ever, much a friend of learned men; for, though some of them have not experience, yet they hate not Spiritual people, nor are not ignorant, what these things mean; because they ever find this truth, that there is such a thing, as a good Spirit, by holy Scripture, wherein they are continually versed. And, as for me, I hold, that a person, who exercises Prayer, and will treat with learned men, shall never be deceived, by illusions of the Devil, if he have not a mind, to deceive himself. For I believe, that the Devil is mightily afraid of Learning, whensoever it is accompanied with Humility, and Virtue; for he knows, that he shall be discovered, in the end, and that so, he shall come to lose, by the bargain.  
And now I have said thus much, because I know, there are opinions, that learned men, are not fit, for persons of Prayer, unless they be also of Spirit. Already I have signified, that it would be necessary, to have a Spiritual Director; but if he prove not to be learned, the inconvenience will be great; & yet it will be of much help, to treat with learned men, so that they be virtuous; for, though they be not Spiritual (as, in this case, we vnderstand Spiritual) they will yet, be able to benefit us; and God will vouchsafe to enable them, to teach us; yea, and so, may perhaps, by degrees, grow even to make them also become Spiritual; to the end, that they may be able, to instruct us, the better. And I speak not this, without some trial; for, the occasion hath happened to me, with more, then two. I say therefore, that if a Soul resolve to render itself, to be entirely subject to the order of any one Director, she shall err very much, unless she procure, in particular manner, that he be learned; especially if he be a Religious man of any Order. Because such an one, is to be subject to his Prelate, or Superior; and in that case, peradventure, all those three aforesaid parts, which were said to be so necessary, for a Director, will be wanting to him, which will be no little cross to the Party; besides, that he may perhaps find himself, to have voluntarily submitted his Understanding, to that of another man, who hath no very good one, himself. At least, forasmuch as concerns me, I was never able, to bring myself to it; nor indeed, do I hold it convenient.  
But now, if the Party, of whom we speak, be a Secular person, let him bless Almighty God, that himself may make choice of that man, to whom he will resolve to subject himself; and let him take care, not to lose this virtuous liberty. Nay, let him even stay, without any Director at all, till he find a fit one; for, our Lord will not fail to provide him such an one, if he go wholly grounded in Humility, and with desire, to make a fit choice. For my part, I praise a fit Director very much; and women, and such men also, as are not learned, were always to give God infinite thanks, for that there are some, in the world, who take so great pains, and trouble, to obtain the knowledge of truth; whereof such as be not learned, are ignorant. And it amazes me, many times, to see Religious men, who are learned; and particularly to consider, with how much trouble, they grew to gain all that knowledge, which is to bring me so much profit, without any more trouble of mine, then only to ask them the question; and yet, that we should not benefit ourselves by it. But, let not God permit, that still it should continue, to be so. For I see them subject, to the troubles, and mortifications of a Religious Life, which are very great; with Pennances; with ill Diet; with hard Lodging; with being subject, in all things, to Obedience; and, in fine, I so perceive, that all is affliction, and all, Cross, that really, the thought thereof, doth cast me sometimes, into confusion; and, me thinks, it must be a great misery, that any body should lose so important a benefit, by his own fault. It is possible, that some of us, who are free from these austerities, whereof I speak (or at least, if we feed upon them, we will needs have them finely dressed, after our own fancy, and so will live, as we list ourselves) conceive, that, for the making a little more Prayer, we shall outstripp them, who yet are subject to so great Penance. Blessed be thou, O Lord, who hast made me so unprofitable, and unuseful; but yet, I praise thee, after an extraordinary manner, in regard, that thou awakest so very many, who may awake us. And we should do well, to make very continual Prayer, for them, who give us light; for, what would become of us, without them, in the midst of so great tempests, as are now in the Church? If some men have been wicked; the good will shine the brighter, by their means. I beseech our Lord, to hold them up, with his hand, that he may help such, as help us; Amen.  
I have travailed far out of the way, from that, which I was going to say; but, all will serve the turn, for beginners; to the end, that they may so, put themselves upon this high way, that it may also prove to them, a true way. Returning therefore, to what I said, of 
* Note.  meditating upon Christ our Lord at the Pillar, it is good to discourse a while, and to think, upon the pain, which he felt there, and why he felt it; and who it is, that felt it; and the Love wherewith he felt it; yet let not the Party weary himself, by going about to seek all this, but let him remain still there, with a calm, and quiet kind of understanding. If he can, let him employ himself, upon considering, who looks upon him; and let him accompany him; and beg of him; and humble himself before him; and regale himself with him; and, in fine, let him remember, that our Lord deserved not to be there. Whensoever you shall be able to do this, though it should fall out to be at the very beginning of your Prayer, you will find great benefit by it; nay, many benefits are acquired, by this manner of Prayer; and, at least, my Soul found it so. I know not, whether I hit right, in declaring myself; but your Reverence will consider of that; and I beseech our Blessed Lord, that I may hit right, in everlastingly pleasing him;  
Amen.   

THE FOURTEENTH CHAPTER.  
She begins to declare the Second Degree of Prayer, wherein our Lord is already pleased, to give the Soul more particular gusts; which she relates, to the end, that she may make them be understood, to be Supernatural. This Discourse is very much to be noted.  
SInce now it is already declared, with how much labour, this Orchard is watered; and how, by the strength of the arm, the Water is to be gotten out of the Well; we must say somewhat of that Second way, of drawing-up this Water, which the Lord of the Garden hath ordained; that so, by this artifice of the Wheel, with those little Buckets, which belong to it, the Gardener may draw out more water, and with less trouble; and may be able, to rest, now and then; and not be continually in labour. Now, this way being applied to Prayer, which is wont to be called Quiet Prayer, is that, whereof now, I will treat.  
The Soul doth here begin, to recollect, and, as it were, shut itself up. And it touches a little here, upon the Supernatural; because the Powers thereof, can, by no means, gain this, for itself, by all the diligences, which it can possibly use. It is true, that sometimes, she may seem to have wearled herself, in going round about the Turn, and to have laboured hard, with the Understanding; and so to have filled-up the little Bucketts; but here, the Water is growne-up to be higher; and so she labours much less, than she did, in drawing it out of the Well. I say, the Water is grown nearer to her; because Grace gives itself now, to be more clearly known, by the Soul. This is a kind of recollecting, and, as it were, a shutting-up of the Powers of the Soul, into herself, that so she may be able to enjoy the contentment, which then, she hath, with more gust. But yet, the use of the Faculties, is not lost, nor do they sleep; but only the Will is employed, and possessed, in such sort, that it is grown to be captived, though yet itself know not how; only it gives consent, that Almighty God may put it in Prison, as one, who understands now, very well, how to let itself be made Prisoner, to whom it loves. O my dear jesus, and my Lord! of how much worth, is thy love to us, in this case, since it holds our love fast, in so strong chains, that it leaves us not even liberty, at that instant, to love any other thing, than thyself? The other two Faculties, which are the Understanding, and Memory, are then assisting the Will; to the end, that they may go enabling it, to enjoy so great a good; although now and then, it happen, that, howsoever, they be even thus united to the Will, they yet, are apt enough, sometimes, to dis-assist it, much. But in this case, let not the Will make any great account of that, but remain still, in her quietness, and joy. For, 
* How the Will is to carry itself to the other Faculties of the Mind.  if she shall persist, in resolving to recollect those other Faculties to herself, both they, and she, will lose, by the bargain. For, they are then, as so many Doves, who content not themselves, with the food, or bait, which the Lord of the Dove-house presents, without their labouring for it; but they go to seek it, in other places; though yet they soon grow to find it so bad, that they quickly return again; and so, come, and go, to see, whether the Will, may be brought to bestow any part of that, upon them, which it enjoys. And, if our Lord please to cast them any food, they stay; and if not, they go again, to seek it; and all this while, they conceive, that they are even of use, and benefit, to the Will itself; though yet sometimes, both the Memory, and Imagination (even whilst they have a desire, to represent that, better to her, which she enjoys) fall out to do her hurt, in stead of good. Let her therefore be content, to carry herself so, towards them, as I shall here advise; since all that, which passes here, is of extreme consolation, and is obtained with so little labour, that Prayer never wearies one here, though it chance to last, very long; because the Understanding goes working now, at great leisure; and walks, as it were, foot by foot; and brings-up another manner of quantity of water, then formerly, it drew out of the Well; and the tears, which God gives, in this case, come already with very great joy; which, howsoever we feel, yet we procure them not.  
This 
* The blessings of Quiet Prayer.  Water of the Well, which imports the great Blessings, and Favours, which our Blessed Lord shows us here, makes our virtue's increase, incomparably more, than that other of the former Degree of Prayer, did; because now, the Soul is already beginning, to get up away, from her own misery; and already, she grows to be allowed, to have some small notice, even of the gusts of glory. And this, I think, makes her thrive, and improve so much the more; as also, because, by this time, she is grown to approach nearer to that virtue, and power, from whence all virtues proceed, which is Almighty God; because his Divine Majesty doth not only then, communicate himself, to that Soul; but he is also pleased, that she should find, in what sort it is, that he communicates himself to her. In arriving once to this place, she instantly begins to lose the appetite of all things, concerning this world; and I cannot blame her; for already, she sees very clearly, that one moment of that gust, is not to be purchased here; and that no riches, nor dominions, nor all the honours, nor delights of this world, are able to give such contentment, and satisfaction, as this, though it were but for the twinkling of an eye; because this, is true contentment, and such an one, as we really see, and find, to content us indeed. For, as for those others of this world, it may well go for a wonder, if we can so much as tell, even wherein the contentment of any thing doth consist. Nor doth there ever fail to be a kind of measuring cast, between the Yea, and the No, in any of them; but here, all is in the Affirmative, and professes to say Yea, as long as it lasts; and the No, comes not in, till afterward; because then, they see, that the business is grown to be, at an end; and that he cannot recover it again; nor knows, indeed, how to go about it. For, though he should even half kill himself with doing Penance, and making much Prayer, and use, in fine, all other possible diligences; yet will it all serve to very little purpose, unless our Lord vouchsafe to impart it. But, Almighty God is pleased here, for his own greatness, that this Soul should now understand, that his Divine Majesty, vouchsafes to be so near her, that now, there is no need of sending any messengers to her, but only, that she herself, may speak with him; though yet, not by word of mouth, because then, he is already so near her, that he understands her (as a man may say) even by the very lest stirring of her lips.  
But now, it may chance seem to some, to be impertinent for me, to talk after this manner; in regard, the world knows well enough, that our Lord doth ever hear us, & is ever present with us; and there can be no doubt at all, but that this is true. But yet here, this Emperor, and Lord of ours, is pleased, that we should also understand, that he understands us; and what his presence is able to do; & what he will particularly begin to work in our Souls; and the great, both interior, and exterior satisfaction, which he imparts; and the mighty difference, which (as I have said) there is, between this kind of delight, and gust, and all the other, of this world. For, this seems even to fill, all those hollow, and void places, which our Sins had made in our Souls. And this so great satisfaction, is in the very most intimate part thereof; and she knows not how, nor by what means also, it comes; nay, many times, she cannot tell, even what to do, nor what to ask, no nor what to wish. For, the Soul seems there, to find all good things together; and she doth not very well know, even what she hath found; nor yet, can I tell, how to give it to be understood. For there would here, be need of Learning, for many purposes; and here, would it come very well in, to give to understand, the difference, betwixt General, and Particular Helps, or Succours of Grace, whereof many are ignorant. And our Lord, in this Prayer, is pleased, that our Soul should see this particular Succour, as it were, with her very eyes; and many other things also, which may perhaps be ill declared here, by me; but, since understanding persons are to see what I write, and who will know, if it have any error in it (wherein I may easily be found faulty enough, through want, both of Learning, & Spirit) I am in the less pain, and care; considering, that this goes into the hands of such, as will both understand it, & will blot also any such thing out, as may have been ill said.  
Yet I would fain give this to be understood, because these, are the beginnings; and when our Lord disposes himself first, to do these Favours, the Soul herself doth not understand them; nor doth she know, what to do, with herself. For, if Almighty God conduct, and guide her, by the way of fear, as he did me, the trouble is very great; unless there be some at hand, who can understand her. But then, it is a great gust for her, to see herself well described, by them; for then, she evidently finds herself to be in that way; and it is also of great benefit, to know, what one hath to do, in any of these States, or Degrees, that so, they may go profiting, on. For my part, I endured much, and lost a great deal of time, because I did not know, how to carry myself. And therefore I have very great compassion of those Souls, which find themselves alone, when they are come thus far; for though I have read many Spiritual Books, and though they touch upon that, which is to the purpose, yet fall they very short, in declaring themselves; and, unless the Soul be very well exercised in Prayer, she shall have enough to do, to understand them, though they seek to express themselves, at large.  
I could very much desire, that our Lord would do me the favour, that I might know, how to set down the effects, which these things, that grow already to be Supernatural, use to work in the Soul; to the end, that it might be understood, by them, when it is the Spirit of God. I say, that it might be understood; according to what we can think, we understand, in this world; though it will always be very well done, to go on, with circumspection, and fear. For though it be indeed of God, yet the Devil can tell, how to transform himself sometimes, into an Angel of Light; and, if a Soul be not well exercised in Prayer, she will not understand it well; and indeed, to be exercised well enough, to understand this point, as it deserves, the Soul must be arrived, to the highest Degree of Prayer.  
The little time I have, will allow me no great help, for what I am designeing; and therefore his Divine Majesty, had need to do it himself; for I must be stirring, up, and down, in the Community; & have many other businesses to do; since I am, at this present, in a House, which is but beginning now, as I shall show afterward; and therefore, I am writing this, without any such rest, and quiet kind of being, as were convenient; so that I must do it, by little and little, and by fits. But I could wish, I were now, at more leisure; for, when our Lord gives a spirit, to do a thing, it is easily, and much better set down. And it seems to be, as when one hath an Original, before him; and then he may easily take-out the Copy. But, if the Spirit be wanting, there is no more power, and means, to make one word of this language suit well with an other, then if (as we may say) we would suit Spanish, and Turkish together, even though we should have exercised ourselves, many years, in Prayer; and therefore, me thinks, it is of very great advantage, when I write, if I be then, in state of Prayer; for I see clearly, that it is not I, who declare it, nor who do either order it then, with my Understanding, nor yet know afterward, how I declared it before; and this happens to me, very often.  
But now, let us goe-back to our Orchard, or Garden, and see, how these Trees begin to button, and budd-out towards flowering, that they may afterward yield fruit; and how these Gillie-flowers, and other odoriferous Plants, dispose themselves, to give delight full Sent to the Owner. I confess, that this Comparison regales, and pleases me much; for, many times, in my beginnings (and I humbly beseech our Lord, that even yet, I may have been a beginner, to serve his Divine Majesty) I say, in those beginnings of that, which I shall say afterward, of my Life, it was of much delight to me, to consider, that my Soul was a Garden, and that our Lord walked in it, up, and down; and I humbly pray him, to increase the odour of those little young Flowers of Virtue, which showed, in all appearance, that they would be glad, to find means to sprout; and that also, they might serve, for his Glory; and that he would be pleased to sustain them, since I desire nothing for myself; and that he would also dress, and prune as many of them, as he pleased; for already, I knew well enough, that they would thrive, and grow the better, afterward. I say, that he would cut, and prune them; in regard, that some such times arrive, now, and then, to the Soul, as wherein there is no appearance left of this Garden, at all; but then, all seems to be withered, and dry, and that there never will come more Water, to sustain it; yea, and that there also seems, to have never been any virtue, in that Soul. In this case, it undergoes great affliction; because our Lord is pleased, that the poor Gardner may conceive, that all that care is lost, which he had formerly employed, upon sustaining, and improving his Garden. But then comes-in the time, of true plucking-up, and rooting-out, all those little, paltry herbs, which, till then, had remained there, how little soever they might be; with making us also know, that no diligence of ours will serve, if Almighty God take the Water of his Grace, from us; that so, in fine, we may come to hold this poor miserable Nothing of ours, in no manner of account; yea, and, if the thing were possible, even for less than Nothing. For here, great Humility makes us the gainers, since the Flowers will thus, grow to reflourish.  
O thou, my Lord, and my God (for I know not, how to say this, without tears, and without a great Regalo, to this poor Soul of mine) is it possible, O my Lord, that thou art pleased to be thus amongst us? Yea, and thou remainest in the B. Sacrament, which may well be, with all truth, believed, because so it is; and we may, with much truth, make this Comparison; and, if it be not through our own fault, we may enjoy ourselves, together with thee; yea, and thou dost also rejoice to be with us, since thou declarest, That it is thy delight, to be with the Children of men. O my Lord, what is this? For, whensoever I hear but this word, it is to me, of great consolation; yea and was so, when I found myself in the worst condition. But is it possible, after this, O my dear Lord, that there should be, in the whole world, any one Soul, which arriving to receive such Favours, and Regalo's at thy hands, and understanding, that thou reioycest so highly in her, should yet return to offend thee, after the receiving of so many Favours, and so great demonstrations of the love, thou bearest her; in such sort, as that they cannot possibly be doubted, since the effects do so manifestly declare it. Yes, yes, it is most certain, that there is such a Soul in the world, which hath offended thee; and that, not once, but often; yea, and I am this very Soul. And I beseech thy Divine Goodness, O my Lord, that I may have been, the only Creature, who ever committed so high a wickedness, and who have been guilty, of such an excessive ingratitude against thee; though yet already, even from this very misery of mine, thy infinite goodness, hath been able to draw some advantage; yea, and even by how much the ill hath been greater, the great benignity of thy Mercies hath shined so much the more. But now, with how much reason, may I resolve to celebrate them, for all eternity? I most humbly beseech thee, O my God, that it may be so; and that I may sing praises to thee, for ever, since now, thou hast vouchsafed to show thy goodness so highly, and so greatly, to me, that such as see it, are amazed; and, as for me, they carry me very often, even out of myself. And, if I should once find, that I were deprived of thee, I could be fit, O my Lord, for nothing, but to return, to be such a kind of Garden, as that the Flowers being plucked-up, yet once again, this miserable earth of mine, would return to be a direct Dunghill, as it was, before. To the end therefore, that I may praise thee the better, permit not, I beseech thee, O my Lord, that this Soul may ever grow to be lost, which thou hast bought with so many afflictions of thine own; and which thou hast so often repurchased, again, and again, and taken, from out of the very teeth, of that hideous Dragon of Hell.  
I beseech your Reverence, excuse me, for speaking thus, from the purpose; and do not wonder at it, since it is, at least, to mine own purpose, to speak as I do. For, it happens, according to those apprehensions, and reflections, which the Soul chances to make, when one writes. And sometimes, it falls-out to be hard enough, to forbear to celebrate the praises of Almighty God, when it happens, that the pen represents such things, as express the high obligations, which we have to his Divine Majesty. And I believe, that this, will be, no way, displeasing to your Reverence; for I am of opinion, that we may, both of us, do very well, to sing one Song, though yet, after a different manner; because it is much more, which I owe to Almighty God, than you; in regard, that he hath pardoned me more Sins, as your Reverence knows very well.   

THE FIFTEENTH CHAPTER  
She prosecutes her Discourse of the same matter; and gives some advice, how persons are to carry themselves, in this kind of Quiet Prayer. She treats, how many Souls come to arrive to this Degree of Prayer; and that few pass beyond it. The particulars, which are touched here, are not only very profitable, but very necessary.  
LEt us now return to our purpose. This Quietness, and Recollection of the Soul, is easily perceived, by the satisfaction, and peace, which is infused into her, with a very great contentment, and calmness of the Powers of the said Soul, together with a very great delight. And now it seems to her (because she is not come yet any further) that already she hath nothing left to desire; and that, with a very good will, she could make the same suit with S. Peter, That her abode might be ever there. She dares not stir, or move; nay she would hardly give herself leave, so much as to take her breath, for fear, lest so, that Good should be flying away, out of her hands, And the while, the poor, little Soul understands not, that, as, by her own power, she could do nothing, for the drawing of that good to herself: so is she of less ability, to detain it there, any longer, than our Lord shall be pleased to grant it. I have already declared, that in this first Recollection, and Quiet, the Powers, and Faculties of the Soul, are not wanting; but yet she is so fully satisfied with God, that, as long, as this occasion lasts, howsoever those two other Powers may discompose themselves, yet, the Will remaining united with Almighty God, that Quiet, and calm rest, is not lost, but rather, by little and little, the Will again recovers, and recollects the Understanding, and Memory. For, howsoever the said Will be not yet totally ingulfed, yet is she so employed, without knowing how; that, how diligent soever they be, they know not how to deprive her, of her contentment, and joy; but rather she goes helping herself, without any trouble at all, of her own; to the end, that this little spark of the Love of Almighty God, may not be quenched in her.  
I beseech our Lord to allow me grace, that I may give this, to be well understood; for, there are many, and very many Souls, which arrive to be in this Degree, or State; and few, which get beyond it; and I know not, who may be in fault thereof; only I am sure enough, that there is none, in Almighty God. For, since his Divine Majesty doth a Soul the Favour, that she may be able to arrive to this point, I cannot believe, that he would cease, to carry her much further, if it were not for some fault of her own. But now it imports the same Soul very much, that, when she arrives thus far, she may well understand the great dignity, wherein she is; and the great Favours, which our Lord hath done her; and how, in all good reason, she were no longer to be, as of the Earth; because it seems now already, that his goodness makes her an Inhabitant of Heaven, if it be not her fault; and wretched shall she be, if she turn back; and I believe, it would be then, to go down, low enough, whither I was going, if the mercy of our Lord had not made me turn yet back again. For the most part, in my opinion, they give over, for very grievous faults of their own; nor is it possible, for any Creature, to quit so great a good, without the 
* Note.  blindness of being subject to commit some very great ill. And therefore I humbly beseech those Souls, even for the love of our Lord, to whom his Majesty hath done so great a Favour, as to make them able to reach this Degree, and State, that they will know themselves; yea, and that they will hold themselves in great account, with an humble, and holy presumption, that so, they may never return again, to the Flesh-Potts of Egypt. And yet, that if through their weakness, and wickedness, and through their naughty, and miserable condition, they should chance to fall back, as I did, they will ever be yet representing to themselves, the great good, which they have lost; and that also, they will grow into suspicion of themselves, and walk along with Fear; as they have really, great cause, to be afraid. And, if they return not to Prayer, they will be sure to go from bad, to worse; for, this 
* Note.  indeed do I call a true Fall, when one comes once, to abhor that very way, whereby they purchased so great a good; and it is with such Souls, that I am speaking, now. For I say not, that Souls will never offend God, nor that they will never commit any Sin; though yet still, it were but reason, that whosoever had begun to receive such Favours, as these, should be very careful, to keep themselves, from committing any. But, in fine, we are miserable Creatures; and that, which I advice very earnestly, is, that they will not give-over their Prayer; for there, shall they come to know, what they are doing; and there, shall they gain sorrow, for having left our Lord; and strength, to rise again. And let that Soul believe, (and let her do it home) that if she depart from Prayer, she grows, in my opinion, to run great hazard. I know not, whether I hit right, in what I say; but, at least, I judge of others, by myself.  
But now, in the mean time, this kind of Prayer, is a certain Spark of the Fire of that true Love, which our Lord begins to kindle in a Soul; and his pleasure also is, that the same Soul shall go understanding, what kind of thing this Love is, and what kind of great Regalo, and delight, it brings. This Quiet, and Recollection, and little Spark, if indeed it be of the Spirit of God, and not a gust, either given by the Devil, or yet procured by ourselves; (though yet still, one, who hath experience, cannot possibly but understand, at the very instant, that it is no such thing, as can be acquired; save that, even in our very Natural condition, we are so greedy of all that, which is savoury, that we will needs taste of all) but if as I said, it be of the Devil, we quickly grow again, to be very cold. And, how much soever we ourselves, may begin to make this Fire also burn, for the procuring of this gust, we seem to have indeed a mind, to do no other business hereby, then to cast-on water enough, to quench it. whereas, if, in very deed, this little Spark were of Divine Love, and were conveyed by Almighty God, into the Soul, how small, and poor soever it be, it would find some shift, or other, to make a mighty noise. And if the Soul do not quench it, by her own fault, this proves that very thing, which begins to make a huge kind of fire; and sends forth, great flames from itself (as I shall declare in fit place) of that mighty love of God, which his Divine Majesty is graciously pleased, that perfect Souls should enjoy. And this very Spark, is a certain kind of sign, and even pawn, which his Divine Majesty gives to that Soul, to show that he chooses her out, for great things, if she will make herself fit to receive them. I say, this is a mighty gift, yea and far greater, than I am any way able to express. And it is matter of much grief to me, that (as I was saying) I know many Souls, which arrive thus far, and that yet, there are so very few, which pass further, (at least, as they ought to pass) that I am even ashamed to confess it. I say not, that there are so very few, who pass on; for it may very well be, that there are many; for God doth not sustain us for nothing; but I only speak of such, as I have seen.  
For my part, I would earnestly wish them, not to hide their Talon, since, it seems, Almighty God chooses them out, for the profit of many others; and especially in these times, when it is so necessary, that his Divine Majesty should have strong friends, to support, and uphold such, as are weak. And let them all, who find, that they have received this great Favour, at our Lord's hands, esteem themselves for strong, if they know, how to correspond well, with the laws, which a firm, and fast friendship, even of this very world, requires. And if they will not, let them apprehend very much, and fear, that they shall do themselves a great deal of hurt; yea, and I pray God, that it may be to none, but themselves.  
That, 
* How the Soul is to carry itself in Quiet Prayer.  which the Soul is to do, in these times of enjoying this Quiet, is but only, 
* Note.  that with suavity, and without noise, she employ the Will to understand, with much calmness, and discretion, that the Soul is not to negotiate with Almighty God, by the strength of the Arme. I call it noise, if the Understanding go seekingout many words, and considerations, to give thanks for this benefit; and to make up, a mighty heap of her defects, and sins, to show, that she deserves not this Favour. For all, is in motion now; and the Understanding represents many things to us; and the Memory is boiling up; and really, these Powers of the Mind, are wont to give me trouble enough, at times; and, in regard that I have but a weak Memory, I cannot, in these cases, subdue them. But those other considerations, and mental discourses, be indeed no better, then as so many great logs of wood, which are laid, with small discretion, upon that little Spark of fire, to quench it. And therefore let her know, and say, with great humility: O Lord, what am I able to do here? What hath this Servant, or Slave, to do, with the Lord of Heaven, and Earth? Or else, she may use such other words, as shall present themselves then, in the way of Love.. But note here, that she must be very, very well grounded, upon knowing that to be true, which she saith.  
Now, as for that, which concerns the Understanding, let the Soul consider it, no otherwise, then merely, as if it were a Miller; and, if she will needs give it part of that, which she enjoys, or shall labour to recollect it also to herself, she will find, that it is not, to prove well with her. For, many times it is seen, that, during this Union, and repose, or rest, in the Will, the Understanding is still much out of order; and, if the Will cannot be be able to arrest it, it is better, to let it alone, then that she should still go hunting after it; I say, the Will. But let it remain enjoying that Favour, and be recollected, and shut-vp in itself, like a wise 
* A true & happy Comparison.  Bee; for, if no one of the Bees, should go into the Hive, but all, be gadding abroad, so to be still ferching one another home, there would little store of honey be made. And so, a Soul will lose very much, if she be not well advertised of this; and especially, if the Understanding be quick, and sharp. For, if once such an one, begin to put discourses in order, and light upon some pretty reasons, to the purpose, she will, if they be handsomely said, begin to think, that she performs, some great exploit. But, the discourse, which is to be used here, must be a knowing clearly, and confessing plainly, that there is no other reason at all, why Almighty God should ever do us so great a Favour, than his own only goodness; and to consider, that we are now approached so near to him; and to beg Favours of him; and to beseech him also, for his Church, and for all such, as have recommended themselves to us; and so also, for the Souls in Purgatory; and this, not by the noise of words, but only by a feeling desire, to be heard, by his Divine Majesty.  
This is a Prayer, which comprehends very much; and we shall obtain more thereby, then by multiplying much rolling discourse, by way of the Understanding. But let the Will stirr-up herself, by some reasons, which will easily represent themselves to her then, when she finds herself to be so very much improved; to quicken-up her Love, and to make her perform certain amorous acts, of how great things she would be glad to do for one, to whom she owes so very much; without admitting, and permitting, as I said, that the understanding part, should make a noise, in the search, and pretence, of doing high and mighty matters. For here, any few, little, poor straws, presented, and offered-up with Humility (and they may be sure enough, to be straws, if we bring them) will make a great deal more, to the purpose, and will help to kindle a good fire more quickly, than a great deal of big logs of wood, will be able to do. I mean, reasons, which, in our opinion, shall be very sure, to quench, and putout the fire, even in the turning of a hand.  
This is good for learned men, who command me to write all this; for, through the goodness of God, it may be hoped, that all of them arrive hither; and it might perhaps, so happen amongst them, that this time would pass away, in applying some places of Scripture. But though that kind of knowledge could not fail to be useful to them, both before such occasions as these, and also after, yet, at these very times of Prayer, there would be little occasion, to use it, in my opinion; unless they had a mind, to cool the fervorous employment of the Will. For, the Understanding finds itself then, to possess such an excessive kind of clarity, by being so near to Light itself, that even I (with being so poor, and miserable, as I am) seem to be another kind of Creature. And it is most certainly true, that it hath happened to me, being in this kind of Quiet, and without understanding, in effect, any thing of the Prayers, which are recited, in Latin, and especially of the Psalter, that not only I understand the Verse in Spanish, but I pass also, yet further on, and delight myself highly, in considering, what the meaning of that Spanish, is. I speak not here, of what it might import, if such persons were to preach, or teach others; for than it would be fit to serve themselves, of that advantage, towards the assisting of their neighbours to that good; and to help also poor people, who know very little, like me. For, Charity is a very great matter; and so is this helping souls forward; so that always, it be done, purely, for God.  
But now, in these times of possessing this great Quiet, let the Soul be suffered to remain in rest, with her true repose, and let Learning be laid aside; for, time will come afterward, when it will fallout to be held, in so high account, that they would by no means, have miss that treasure of knowledge, if it were but only, for the power it gives them, to do more, and better service, to his Divine Majesty; for it assists very much, in order to that excellent end. But yet believe me still, that, in the presence of that Infinite Wisdom, a very little attention to exercise Humility, & one single act of that virtue, is more worth, than all the knowledge of the whole world. For here, there is no room, for disputing of Questions, or arguing Cases, but only to know with truth, and plainness, what we are; & to represent ourselves, with great simplicity, in the sight of Almighty God; who desires, that the Soul should make herself, as very ignorant, and silly, as, in very deed, she is, when once she comes to appear in his presence; since his Divine Majesty descends so much below himself, as to endure her, near his own person; all we, being that, which we are.  
The Understanding will also move itself here, to give certain thanks to Almighty God, which may be handsomely ordered, and composed; but the Will, with a certain kind of Quiet and peace, and with a not daring, like the Publican of the Gospel, so much as lift-up her eyes, pays yet more retribution of thanks, than the Understanding, perhaps, knows how to do, with revolving all the Rhetoric, in the world. But, in fine, we are not totally, in this case, to forbear to make Mental Prayer; no, nor yet sometimes, to use some Vocal Words, if we will, and can. And I say, can; because if the Quiet be great, and deep, they will hardly enough be able to speak, without making it cost them much pain.  
In 
* The good Spirit very easily discerned from the bad.  my opinion, we may well understand, when this is of the Spirit of Almighty God; and when it happens to be procured, by ourselves, though it be upon a beginning of that devotion, which God gives us. For, when, as I have said, we will needs resolve ourselves, of ourselves, to procure to pass on, to this possessing the Quiet of the Will, it uses to work no good effect, at all; but quickly ends, and leaves nothing but dryness, behind it. And, if it chance to proceed from the Devil, a Soul, which is exercised in this kind, will, I believe, grow easily to understand it; for, in that case, it will leave a certain kind of disquiet, and little affection to Humility, and an untoward disposition, in order to the producing of those effects, which the Spirit of Almighty God, is wont to breed; nor doth it also leave, either light, in the Understanding, or a constant love of truth, in the Will. And this, will do a Soul, either very little hurt, or none at all, if she direct, and address the suavity, and delight, which then she feels, to the glory of Almighty God; and, if she lodge her thoughts, and desires, upon him, as I have formerly advised, the Devil will gain little, by the bargain. Nay, rather Almighty God will so dispose of things, that he shall lose much, even by that very delight, which he causes in her Soul; for, this very delight, shall be a means, to make that Soul, which conceives, that it proceeds from God, to come again, often to Prayer, with desire to receive more delight, Or else, if the Soul be very humble, and not withal, very curious, nor very much interessed, in taking delights (though even they be spiritual) but be indeed, a true friend to the Cross, she will make very little account of any gust, which the Devil can give her; which yet she shall never be able to do, if, indeed, it be the Spirit of God; for, in that case, she will ever be sure, to hold it, in very high account. Now, when the Devil propounds such a business, (since he is all, made of Lies) whensoever he sees a Soul abase, and humble herself, by means of that delight, and gust, which she receives (for, indeed, we are to have very great care, to procure to prove very humble, upon all the occasions of Prayer, and gusts) the Devil will not return to tempt us very often, when he considers, how much he loses, by the endeavour.  
For this reason, and upon many other considerations, did I advertise, in the First Degree, and State of Prayer (which answers to the First way of drawing Water, in the Garden) that it is a 
* Note this point, above all.  principal business, when the Soul is entering first, upon Prayer, to begin to untie herself, from the desire of all kind of sensible contentment; and to enter upon this only resolution, to help our Lord JESUS, to carry his Cross; like good Cavaliers, who are resolved to serve their King without wages, since they are so sure of him, as they are. And we are also, still to carry our eyes, upon that true, and everlasting Kingdom, which we procure to acquire.  
It is a very great point, to have this ever in view, and especially in the beginnings; for afterwards, it is seen so very clearly, that it may rather be fit, to forget it; to the end, that we may be able even to live, then procure to be remembering, that the world is to last very little; and that all, in fine, is nothing; and that here, the ease and rest, which we can have, is to be esteemed for nothing. This may seem to be a very poor, and base consideration; and so indeed it is; for they, who have proceeded to more perfection, would take it for an affront, and would even blush, and be ashamed amongst themselues, if they thought, they forsook the goods of this world, because they must come once, to have an end. For, although those goods were to last always, they would yet rejoice to leave them, for the love of our Lord; and still the more perfect they were, they would rejoice so much the more; yea, & the more also would they rejoice, the longer they believed, they were to last. In these men, this Love, is already growne-up to strength; and it is this, which works most; but for such, as are but Beginners, it is a point of highest importance (and they must, by no means, hold it for low) to be content, to leave all gusts, for God. For, the benefits, which are gained by this consideration, are great; and therefore do I advice it so much. Nay, even those others, who are most elevated, and accomplished in Prayer, will have need also of such considerations, as these. And there are times, when Almighty God will try them; nay it will seem, as if this Divine Majesty would forsake them. For (as I have said already, and I would fain not have it be forgotten) the Soul in this life, which we live, increases not, as the Body doth; though yet we say it do; and really, it doth increase; but yet a Child, after he is grown, and become tall, and proves to be already a man, returns not to decrease again, and to have a little body. Yet now, in the point of a Soul, our Lord will have it be otherwise, by what I have seen of myself; for I know it not, in respect of others; and it ought to humble us, for our own greater good, and to the end also, that we may not be negligent, as long as we shall be in this banishment; since he, who is highest in virtue, shall do well, to fear himself most, and to trust himself, lest. The times, perhaps, may come, when even they, who have their Will, so conform to the Holy Will of Almighty God, that they would rather be tormented, and endure a thousand deaths, then swerve from it, shall do well, to be in doubt, that even they, may grow to fall, into some great offence of his Divine Majesty. And so, there are certain times, when they shall see themselves so assaulted by temptations, and persecutions, that, to the end, they may not commit gross sins, they will have need to serve themselves, of the First Defensive weapons of Prayer; and return to remember, and consider, that all the world, is finally to end; and that there is a Heaven, and a Hell; and to use such considerations, as these.  
But now, returning to what I was saying, a great foundation it is (for being freed from the subtle enterprises, and gusts, which the Devil is wont to give) to begin with a firm 
* A most necessary Document.  purpose, at the very first, to walk in the way of the Cross; and to desire no such thing, as gusts; since our Lord himself showed this way of perfection; by saying: Take thou up thy Cross, and follow me. For he is to be our Pattern; and whosoever shall follow his counsels, and that, for no other reason, then to content him, may be sure, that he shall have nothing to fear. And by the spiritual profit, which they shall find in themselves, they will easily come to know, that the Devil had no hand therein; and though they should even return to fall again, there will yet remain one sign, that our Lord had been there: which is, That they will quickly rise again; besides these others, which I shall now declare.  
When it is the Spirit of Almighty God, there will be no need at all, to go in Quest, and Sent, after certain reasons, to draw humility, and confusion, from thence. For, our Blessed Lord himself, is wont to impart it, in those cases, after a very different manner, from that, which ourselves can procure, by any pretty little considerations of our own; all which, are nothing, in comparison of a certain true 
* A great blessing, by means of this Prayer.  Humility, that comes along with a light, which our Lord instructs us in, here; and which breeds such a real confusion in us, as even doth entirely defeat us. And the knowledge, which Almighty God is wont to give us, to the end, that we may perfectly understand, that we have no good at all, of ourselves, is a thing very sufficiently perceived; and still, so much the more, as we receive the higher Favours, from his hands. It also imparts to a man, a very great desire, to proceed in Prayer; and he will not give it over, for any trouble, which may possibly succeed to him. He offers himself, and is ready to endure all things. He hath also a kind of assured hope, that he shall be saved; though yet still, not without humility, and fear. By this time, he also instantly forsakes all kind of servile fear, of his Soul; and it gives a great deal of growth, to a Filial fear, in stead thereof. He sees, that now he begins to bear a certain love, towards Almighty God, which is far from any interest of his own; & he covets to get times for Solitude, that so, he may have the better opportunity, to enjoy that good. In fine, (that I may not weary myself too much) this is a direct beginning, of all good things; a State, wherein the Flowers are now upon the very point, to blossom. And all this, the Soul sees very clearly; and can, by no means, at that time, conceive, but that God was, and will be with her, till such time, as she shall return, to find herself guilty of failings, and imperfections, towards him; for, in that case, she fears all things; and it is fit, that she do so. Though yet, there are 
* These, are the more generous minds.  Souls in the world, to which it proves more useful, to believe, for a most certain truth, that they are well with Almighty God; then all the fears of the world, are able to give them. For, if the Soul, in herself, be apt to be enamoured, and grateful, the memory of that great Favour, which God did her, will be of more power, to make her return, to his Divine Majesty, than all the torments of Hell, which they can possibly be ever able to represent. At least (as wicked, as I am) it happened after this manner, to me. Now, as for the signs of a good Spirit, I will speak of them hereafter, more at large; for now I cannot do it, since it costs me so much trouble, of many kinds, to get them written our, fair; and I believe, that, with the favour of our Lord, I may be able to hit right, in this kind; for, (besides the experience, which I have, whereby I came to understand many things) I know somewhat, by means of some learned men, who, indeed, are very learned; and of some person's also, who are very holy; to whom it is great reason, to give belief. And therefore, let not other Souls be so very much afflicted, and vexed, as I have been; when once, through the goodness of Almighty God, they shall be come on, so far, as to find themselves in this State.   

THE SIXTEENTH CHAPTER.  
She treats of the Third Degree of Prayer, and goes declaring some very high points; and what a Soul, which arrives thus far, may be able to do; and what effects, these so great Favours of our Lord, are accustomed to work. The sense hereof, is very fit, to raise the Spirit high, in the praises of Almighty God; and it is also of great consolation, for the Soul, which arrives to this State.  
LEt us now come to speak of the Third Water, wherewith this Garden is watered; for, this, is a running Water of a River, or Spring; and it waters it with much less labour; though yet the distribution thereof, causes some. Our Lord will here so help the Gardener, that, in some sort, he will be, as it were, the Gardener himself, and, in effect, the Doer of all. This is a sweet repose, or sleep of all the Powers, which are yet neither totally lost, nor yet do they know, how they work. This gust, and delight, and suavity, is greater, beyond all comparison, than the former; for, the Water of this grace, gets-up to the very throat of the Soul; in such sort, that now it cannot go forward; nor knows, how to do it; nor yet would, by any means, return backward; but enjoys an excessive kind of glory. It is, as when a man is already, with the Holy 
* As when one is dying.  Candle, in his hand; so that now, there wants very little, of dying; but it is of that very death, which is desired; for she is enjoying the greatest delight, that can be imagined, in that agony of hers; and me thinks, it is no other thing, then even to die, as it were, entirely, to all the things of this world, and to be enjoying Almighty God. For my part, I can think of no other terms, wherewith to express it, or declare it; nor knows the Soul, at that time, what to do; nor, whether she should speak, or be silent; or laugh, or weep. 
* This is an admirable State of Mind.  It is a glorious kind of Frenzy; and a Celestial kind of Folly, where yet, true wisdom is learned; and it is a most delightful manner of enjoying, for the Soul, in a Superlative Degree. It is true that it may be about some five, or six years, since first our Lord vouchsafed to allow me this kind of Prayer, often, and in great abundance; and that I neither did, either perfectly understand it, nor yet can exactly declare it; and for my part, I made account, when I was come hither, that I could say, either little, or nothing. And yet I well understood, that this was not an entire Union of all the Powers of the Soul; and yet still, that it was clearly more, than might be found in the former Degree of Prayer; and yet withal, I must ever confess, that I could not tell, how to know, and much less exactly determine, what this difference was. But I well believe, that, for the humility, which your Reverence hath showed, in being desirous to help yourself, by so great a simplicity, as mine, our Lord gave me this Prayer, this day, immediately after my receiving the B. Sacrament; yet without my being able, to go forward. And he put these Comparisons into my head, and taught me the manner, how to express them, and what the Soul is to do, in these cases; and really, I was amazed at it; for, I understood all this business, at an instant. Many times, I was, as it were, out of myself, and as if I had been even inebriated with this love; and yet I could never understand, how it was. Only I knew very well, that it was God; but I could not tell the manner, how he wrought in me, at that time. For it is the very truth, that the 
* The true State of the Powers of the Mind, in this Prayer.  Powers are, as it were, all united, though yet not so ingulfed, but that still they work; and I have been extremely joyed, that, at length, I am come to understand it; and Blessed be our Lord for ever, who hath regaled me, in so high a degree. These Powers have only now ability, to busy themselves totally, upon Almighty God; nor doth it seem, that any of them now, even dares so much as hover, or stir, not, as it were, breath, if we do not divert our selves then, with great endeavour; yea and even so, me thinks, we can scarce do it entirely, at that time. A multitude of words, are conceived here, by the Soul, in praise of our Lord; but yet so, as that they are without any order, unless our Lord himself be pleased, to order them; for, at least, the Understanding serves here, for nothing. The Soul would fain cry out, in praise of Almighty God; & she is then, in such condition, as that she knows not, how to contain herself. This is now, a very savoury kind of disquiet; and now, yea even very now, the Flowers open themselves, to blossom; and already do they begin, to yield their odour. And here the Soul would be glad, that all the world might be able to see, and understand her glory, that so, Almighty God might be praised; and that they might be able to assist her therein; and that she might give them part of her joy; as not knowing, how to enjoy it all, herself. Me thinks, she is now, to be like her, of the Gospel, who had a mind, to call-in all her Neighbours. Or else, like, the admirable Spirit of the Royal Prophet David who might feel some such thing in himself, as this, when he played upon his Harp, and sung, in honour, and praise of Almighty God. I find myself very much devoted, to this Glorious King; and I wish, that all the world were so; especially all we, who are Sinners.  
O my dear Lord; what kind of thing, is a Soul, when she finds herself in such a condition; as this? She would fain become, all Tongue, to praise our Lord. She utters a thousand holy impertinencies; but yet, she doth ever endeavour to hit right, in pleasing him, who holds her there, in that manner. I know of a certain person, who, though she were no Poet, yet instantly did she happen to make certain Verses, all, extempore, which were very significant in the way of complaint, & declared her pain very well, though they were not made, by her own Understanding, alone; but, for the better enjoying that glory, which gave her so delightful a pain, she complained thereof, to her God. She wishes, that she might be all torn in pieces, both in Body, and Soul, to show the joy she finds, to feel this pain. What torments could then, be set before her, which then, she would not be glad to endure, for the love of our Lord? She clearly sees, that the Martyrs did very little, on their parts, when they suffered torments; for, the Soul knows then, very well, that her strength comes to her, by some other way, then from herself.  
But now, what will she feel, when she comes back, to employ her wits, upon knowing how to live again, in this world; and to return both to the cares, and compliments, thereof. And certainly, me thinks, I am far, from having exaggerated any thing, concerning this manner of joy, which our Lord is pleased, to make a Soul possess, even in this place of banishment; for, all that, which I have said of it, is very poor, and mean, in comparison of what it is, in itself. Blessed be thou for ever, O Lord; and let all things praise thee, for ever; And be pleased, O my King, (I most humbly beseech, and beg, at thy hands) that, since when even now I am not wholly out of this holy Celestial Frenzy, or folly, (which, through thy goodness, and mercy, and so wholly without any merit of mine, thou dost me the great Favour to impart,) either all such persons, as with whom I shall have occasion to converse, may be even, as it were, mad fools, for thy love; or else, dispose thou so, of me, as that I may never converse more, with any Creature; or else finally, O Lord, give order, that I may have nothing to do in this world; or, at least, take me out of it, quite. For now already, O my God, this Servant of thine, is no longer able to endure so great afflictions, as she feels to come upon her, by her being thus, without thee. And if she needs must live, she desires to have no ease in this life; nor, indeed, dost thou give her any; for it is death to her, to see herself eat; she is afflicted, by the sleep she takes; she finds, that her whole life, is spent, and past through, in Regalo's; and yet that now, there is nothing, but thyself, who can indeed regale her; So that it seems, I live now even against nature, since now I would fain not live in myself, but only in thee.  
O thou my true Lord, and my Glory! how delicate, and yet how hugely heavy, is that Cross, which thou hast prepared, and provided for such, as arrive to this State? It is delicate, because it is incredibly sweet; and it is heavy, because there grow to be certain times, when there is not patience enough, in the whole world, to enable us to endure it; and yet the Soul would never desire, to be free from it, unless it were, to the end, that she might find herself once, to be with thee. And when also the same Soul remembers, that she was never able to do thee service, in any thing; and that, by continuing to live, it may yet, perhaps, be possible for her, to serve thee, she would be glad, if she might lie under a very much more heavy burden, than the former; yea, and that she might also never die, even till the very end of the world. She values not any manner of repose, or rest, so much as to the weight of one hair, in comparison of doing thee any poor little service; nor doth she know, what more to desire; but she is only sure of thus much, that she desires nothing, but thyself.  
O my Son (for you, to whom this is directed, and who have commanded me to write it, are so humble, that you will needs be called, by that name) let these things be only for yourself, when you see, that I am gone out of all limits; for there is no kind of reason, which suffices to keep me from leaving the use of humane reason, when our Lord is pleased to draw me thus, out of myself. Nor do I know, or believe, that it is I, who am speaking thus, ever since I received the B. Sacrament, this morning. For, me thinks, I do but dream, of what I see; and I would be glad, not to see any other, than such, as are sick of that very same disease, which is now upon me. I humbly beseech your Reverence, that we may all, become like mad fools, for his love, who was content to be called Fool, for the love of us. And, since your Reverence says, that you wish me so cordially well, I desire, that you will show it, by disposing yourself in such sort, as that our Lord may do you this Favour. For, I see, there are very few men, who have not more wit, than even they need, for the effecting such things, as they hold, to concern them; but now perhaps, I may have more, than they all. But do not you suffer this, my dear Father, (since you are so, as well as my Son; because you are my Confessarius, to whose hands I have committed the care of my Soul) but unbeguile me, by telling me truth; though truths be, now a-dayes, seldom told. And now I would be very glad, that we Five, who, at the present, love one another, in Christ our Lord; That, I say, as others meet in secret, against the Service of his Divine Majesty, for the ordering of their wickedness, and their Heresies; we also might procure, sometimes, to meet, for the disabusing one another; and to confer, how we might reform ourselves, and give Almighty God, more gust. For, there is no Creature, that knows himself so well, as they do, who look upon us; so that it be with true love, and care of our amendment. I speak of this, as a Secret, and in your care; for now, already, no such language, as this, is used; when even Preachers themselves, go so composing their Sermons, as that they may be sure, to give men no disgust by them. But their intention, forsooth, is so good, as that the fruits will be answerable to it; and so we see, how few grow to mend their lives. But how comes it now to pass, that they are not very many, who give over, to be public in following vice, by means of those Sermons, which are made? Shall I tell, what I think? It is, because the Preachers, make themselves too wise. Not yet, that they are indeed, without wit, by reason of any great fire of the Love of Almighty God, which is in their hearts, as the Apostles were; and so their flame falls-out to give but very little heat. I say not, that I expect, that it should be so great, as theirs was; but yet I heartily wish, that it were greater, than I can now find it is. Your Reverence knows, in what, very much, would consist; Namely, in having this life of ours, in detestation; and honour, in very little estimation; and that, rather than fail, both to speak truth, and to maintain it, for the glory of Almighty God, we would be as well contented to lose all, as to gain all. For, whosoever is resolved, in very good earnest, to put it all, to hazard, for the love of our Blessed Lord, will be as well content, with the, one, as with the other. I say not, that I am any such Creature; but I heartily wish I were.  
O great, and gallant Liberty, to esteem it for a direct captivity, to be bound to live, and converse, according to the Laws of this World! For, when this is once obtained, at the hands of Almighty God, there is not so base a Slave upon Earth, as would not venture all; that, so he might redeem himself, and return home to his own Country. And, since this, wherein we are, is the true way; there is neither cause, nor colour, why we should desire, to loiter in it. For we shall never finish the gaining of so great a treasure, till our Lord give us his grace, to do it well. I humbly pray your Reverence, to tear this, which I have written, if you think fit; and pardon me; for I have presumed too far.   

THE SEAVENTEENTH CHAPTER.  
She prosecutes the same Argument, about this Third Degree of Prayer; And finishes the declaration of the effects, which it works; and declares also, the disadvantage, which the Memory, and Imagination, are want to bring, in this case.  
I Have already spoken, to some good proportion, of this manner of Prayer, and of that, which the Soul is to perform therein; or rather of what God doth in her; for now it is himself, who takes the Office of Gardner, upon him; and he will have her, take her case; and only, that the Will may accept of those Favours, which she enjoys; and she must offer herself, to go through, with all that, which he, who is true Wisdom, shall be pleased to ordain; for which purpose, there is really need, of a great deal of courage. For, so great, * and high, uses that joy to be, that sometimes it seems, that there needs not so much, as a hair's breadth, for making the Soul go instantly out of that Body; and O, what a happy death would that be! And here, me thinks, that comes in, very well, which once was said to your Reverence, that you must leave yourself wholly, in the Arms of God; If he will carry you to Heaven, That you go; If to Hell, there will be no torment there, so that you be with him, who is your total good; If instantly to make an end of this life, That you desire nothing else; And yet, that you be as well pleased, if yet, he will have you live, a thousand years. Let his Divine Majesty dispose of you, as of a thing, which is properly his own; for, your Soul is now no longer yours, but it wholly belongs to our Lord; and therefore you must be altogether out of care. Now I say, that in so elevated, and high a Prayer, as this, she understands that she can perform it, without any weariness at all, to the Understanding; for when God gives this Prayer to a Soul, she is able to do all this; yea, and can also work other manner of effects, than these. Only me thinks, she is, as it were, amazed, to see our Lord perform the Office of a good Gardner, so well; and is not pleased, that she should take any trouble or pains; but only that she is to delight herself, in beginning to enjoy the odour of those Flowers. For, in one such approach as this, (how little a while soever it may last) such a kind of Gardner this is (for, he is the Creator of the Water; and he gives it so very freely, beyond measure) that, what this single poor Soul was not able to assemble, by the labour of tyring-out her Understanding, in twenty years together, this Celestial Gardner doth it all, in one moment of time; and the Fruit doth so grow, and become ripe, that it is able, through the good pleasure of our Lord, to sustain the Owner thereof, and to enable him, to live upon the gain, which he makes by it. Only, he gives not this Soul leave, to Present of this Fruit, to others, till such time, as she be grown strong, by what herself hath eaten of it; and she must not squander it away, in trying idly, how it tastes. For so, (she not valuing the profit, which she might make by it, nor they paying her any thing for it, to whom she gave it) she comes to maintain, and feed them up, at her cost, whilst herself may, by degrees, grow to be ready to die, of hunger. This will perhaps, be well comprehended by them, who have a right kind of understanding, and will know, how to apply it better, than I can declare it; and now I am even weary, to think if it.  
In a word, the truth is this, that the virtues, which are obtained in this Prayer, remain so much stronger here, then in the Prayer of Quiet (whereof I spoke before) that the Soul cannot be ignorant thereof. For she finds herself to be wholly grown, another kind of thing, than she was; and she begins (she even scarce knows, how) to act, and work great things, by the odour, which the Flowers yield, of themselves. For now, our Lord is pleased, that they may sprout, and open; to the end, that she may know, she hath virtues; though yet with all, she see very clearly, that she was not able, to acquire, and get them; but that the Celestial Gardner, was pleased to impart them to her, as it were, at an instant. The humility also of this Soul, is much greater, and more profound, then in the former Prayer; because she sees more clearly, that herself did, neither much, nor little, but only consent, that our Lord might do her those Favours; and she embrace them, with her Will. To me it seems, that there is, in this kind of Prayer, a very evident 
How there is an Union in this Prayer; & how there is none.  Union of the whole Soul, with God; save that, it also seems, that his Divine Majesty gives liberty to the Powers thereof, to understand, and enjoy the abundance, of what he works therein. Now, it happens sometimes, yea and many times, that the Will being thus united (that your Reverence may see, both that this may be, and may also be able, to understand it, when you have it; and, at least, it puts me almost out of my wits, & therefore I relate it to you here) knows, and understands, that it is tyed-up, and bound, and yet in condition of enjoying. I say again, it knows, that itself, being the Will, remains in much Quiet, whilst yet, on the other side, the Understanding, and Memory, are free, and are able to treat of businesses, & to attend to certain works of Charity. Now, though this seem to be all one, with that, which was spoken of, in that other Discourse of Quiet Prayer, yet it is different. Because there, the Soul is in such case, as it would fain not stir, nor move itself, in that kind of Prayer, as enjoying the leisure and contemplation of Marie; I mean, of S. Marie Magdalen; Whereas here, in this Prayer, she can also act the part of Martha. So that she doth now, in effect, perform the offices, both of the Active, and of the Contemplative life; and all at once; and is able to exercise herself, upon those businesses, and works of Charity, which are incident to her condition. And she can also read; though yet still, the Powers, or Faculties of her Soul, are not absolutely the Lords of themselves; and still she understands well enough, that the greatest part of herself (that is to say, her chief attention, and operation) is somewhere else. It is just, as if we were speaking with some one; and that withal, at the self same time, some other person were speaking to us, in such sort, as that we were not entirely attentive; either to the one, or to the other. But it is a thing, which is perceived very clearly, and gives great satisfaction, and contentment, whensoever it arrives; and it uses to be a very great preparation, and disposition, to the end, that, whensoever the Party may be in any Solitude, or exemption from business, the Soul may instantly enjoy a very perfect quietness, and repose. This is a certain Being, as if a person received such a kind of satisfaction, and cessation of appetite in himself, as that he would have no need at all, to eat, but felt his stomach content; in such sort, as that he would not easily apply himself to taste, of whatsoever should be set before him; but yet withal, that, if he saw such meat as he liked, he would not forbear: to eat of it. For just so, doth the Soul, not satisfy herself, nor is content to feed upon the meat of this world; because she finds that, in herself, which gives her satisfaction, it being the far greater contentment, which she hath in Almighty God; and her desire also is, to satisfy even those desires of hers; and this is that, which she procures.  
There is also, another kind of Union, which even yet, is not so much, as an absolute, and entire Union, though it be greater than that, of which I was speaking before; and not altogether so great, as that of this Third Water; And your Reverence will be very glad (supposing, that our Lord bestow them all, upon you, if you have them not already) to find it written thus; and directly to understand, what it is. For it is one kind of Favour, for our Lord to impart the same very Favour; and another, to understand, what grace, and Favour, that is; yea, and yet another, to be able, to unfold, and declare, how it passes. And howsoever it may seem, that there may no more, than the First of these Three, be needful, for the keeping of the Soul, from being in a kind of confusion, and fear, and for enabling it to go forward, with more courage, in the way of our Lord, even treading with the very feet thereof, upon all the things of this world; yet is it a Favour of so great advantage, to understand it, that it is reason, that both he, who hath it, and even he also, who hath it not, should praise our Lord, much, for it; because his Divine Majesty hath been pleased to give it to some one, who is yet alive, to the end, that he might also do us good.  
Now, it happens also many times to me, that I have this manner of Union, whereof I am speaking; for it pleases Almighty God, to do me this Favour, very, very often; and that God recollects, and takes hold of my Will; yea and also, in my opinion, of my Understanding; for then, it discourses no longer, but is employed, upon enjoying Almighty God; as one, who stands looking, and looking, and sees so very much, that he knows not indeed, which way to look; for, one thing instantly appears, which takes away the sight of the other; and so, nothing makes any impression at all. The Memory, remains free; and so also doth the Imagination, seem to do; and this Imagination, when it finds itself thus, all alone, (that is, without being controlled by the Understanding) it would make a body wonder extremely, to see, what a coil it keeps; and what a war, it makes; and procures, to put all, out of order. For my part, I am sure, it tires me; and I am also sure, that I abhor it; and I have often besought our Lord, that, if it must needs distract me still, after this manner, he will be pleased, to take it from me, in these occasions. And sometimes I presume to say thus to him: When, O my God, is this whole Soul of mine, to be entirely united, in thy praise; and not divided thus, into pieces, without being so much as able, to serve herself, of herself. But here, do I, in the mean time, discern the mischief, which hath been brought upon us, by Sin; since it makes us be so subject, to the not doing, of what we so much desire; which is, to be ever busied about Almighty God.  
I say, this happens to me divers times, and one of those times, was this very day; and so, I may the better remember it. For, in fine, I see my Soul, even dissolve, and defeat herself, through the desire, which she hath to be wholly there, where she finds herself, for the most part, to be already; and yet, that this is impossible, because both the Memory, and Imagination, do still make such war upon her, that they suffer her not to work, like herself. And though they be not able, to do her any hurt, in regard that the other Powers, and Faculties are wanting; yet indeed, they may well be thought, to do hurt enough, by the disquiet, they give. But yet still I say, that they do her properly no hurt; because, indeed, they have no strength; nor do they fix themselves in any one Being, or State. And, in regard that the Understanding doth not help the Imagination, in that, which it represents, either more, or less, it cannot fasten upon any thing; but skipps, up & down, from one to another. And it is like those importunate, and unquiet little Gnatts, which buzz, and whizz by night, here, and there; for just so, are these Powers wont to go, from one to another. This Comparison seems to me, to be extremely proper; for though these inferior Faculties, have not strength, and means, to do harm, yet are they troublesome enough, to such as feel them. Not do I know, what remedy there is, against this inconvenience; for hitherto, Almighty God hath not enabled me to find any out; & if he had, I would have been very glad, to use it; for it torments me (as I said) very often. But in this, is our misery made apparent to us; and so also doth the power of Almighty God shine very clearly in it, since this Faculty of the Soul, which is loose, can put us to so much trouble, and so tyre us, whilst yet those other, which are employed, and do attend so near to his Divine Majesty, make us feel so much ease, & joy.  
The last Remedy, upon which I have fall'n, after my having wearied myself many years, is that, whereof I spoke, in Quiet Prayer; That we should make no more account thereof, than we would, of some starke-madd-Foole; but to let it still alone, in telling that impertinent idle Tale, wherein God only can impose silence. And since, in fine, it remains to us here, in the nature of a Slave, we must be content to endure it, as jacob, did Lya; for our Lord doth us Favour enough, to permit, that we may enjoy Rachel. I say, that it remains as a Slave; by reason, that it cannot draw the other Powers, or Faculties to it, how vehemently soever it may strive, but rather, they draw it often to them, without any difficulty at all. Yea, and sometimes our Lord is pleased to have pity, to see even the Imagination itself, so very much disquieted, and lost, through desire to be in company with the other Faculties, and Powers of the Mind; and then, his Divine Majesty is content, that it also, may be burnt up, in the fire of that Divine Taper, where those others are already even consumed to dust; and where (having, as it were, even lost their Natural Being) they are enjoying so great Blessings, in a Supernatural kind.  
In all these ways, of this last Fountain-water, whereof I have spoken, the peaceful rest, and glory of the Soul, is so great, that even the Body doth very manifestly participate of that joy, and delight; I say, it doth so, very manifestly; yea, and the virtues also of the Mind, increase, and grow stronger, as I have said.  
And now it seems to me, that our Lord hath declared these States of Prayer, wherein the Soul may discern herself, as far, as she can be given to be understood here. And your Reverence shall do well, to confer about it, with some such Spiritual person, (who may be learned) as shall have arrived, thus far. And if he tell you, that all is well, you may conceive, that God hath said it to you; and esteem it, as a great benefit, from his Divine Majesty; for you will, in tract of time, rejoice (as I have said) very much, to understand in clear manner, what it is; though now, whilst you have the grace to enjoy it, he allows you not the Favour, to understand it so. But, as his Divine Majesty hath given you the first part, which is the enjoying: so you will afterward, perhaps, by your knowledge, and learning, come also to understand it, by this means. Let him be adored, and praised, for the eternity of all eternities,  
Amen.   

THE EIGHTEENTH CHAPTER  
She treats of the Fourth Degree of Prayer. She begins here to declare, in excellent manner, the great dignity, to which our Lord advances that Soul, which is exalted to this State. It serves to animate men much, to endeavour, that they may arrive to so high a condition, since it may be obtained in this world, through the goodness of our Lord, though it cannot be deserved. Let this be read, with consideration, and care.  
I Beseech our Lord, that he will teach me, how to use some words, and way of speech, which may enable me, to say somewhat, of this Fourth Water; for I well discern, that I have need enough of his Favour heerin; even yet more, than I had in that of the last; because in that, the Soul doth find herself, not to be wholly dead; and so we may very well say, that she is not dead, because she remains still in the world; but still (as I affirmed) she hath sufficient understanding, to know, that she is still, here; and that she finds the Solitude, wherein she is; & serves herself, to some proportion, of the exterior; at least so far, as, by outward signs, to give that, which she feels, to be understood. In all that kind of Prayer, and in the manner also of it, which hath been described, the Gardener labours to some proportion; though yet, in the Prayer of these latter kinds, his labour goes accompanied with so much joy, and such a happy kind of ease, as that, for his part, he finds no trouble at all, in it; for he considers it not as Trouble, but as Glory; and he would be glad, that it might never end. But in this Fourth Degree, or kind of Prayer, there is no suffering left at all, but only enjoying; though yet, without any distinct particular understanding, of what is enjoyed. He knows well enough; that a certain Good, is enjoyed, wherein all good things are contained, and shut-vp; but yet this Good, is not totally comprehended by him. All the Senses are taken up, upon the finding, and feeling of this joy; in such sort, as no one of them, is so dis-employed, as that it can possibly attend to any thing else, either in the exterior, or interior way. Before, a certain leave, or liberty was given to these Powers, that they might be able, to make some kind of demonstration, of the great joy, they felt; but here, the Soul enjoys much more, beyond comparison; and can give herself also to be understood, much less. Because there is no means left in the Body; nor yet hath the Soul any at all, wherewith to communicate that joy; but, all things would then, be disturbance, and even torment to her; yea, and distraction, from the entireness of her sweet repose. I say, the Soul is no way able, to communicate the joy she hath, if indeed there be an absolute, and entire Union, of all the three Powers together, for as long as that Union lasts; and that also, if she be able to communicate it, I say, there is no absolute Union. In what manner this thing happens, which they call Union, and what the thing also is, I am not able to give to be understood. It is declared in that, which they call Mystical Theology; but as for me, I am not able, so much as to name even the terms. Nor do I know, what that is, which is called Mind; nor the difference between Mind, and Soul; nor what also, is Spirit; for, to me, all these several things, seem to be but one; though yet the Soul, now and then, spring-up even out of herself, as if it were a kind of fire, which is burning up, in a flame; and sometimes this fire increases, with a kind of impetuosity. Now this flame, rises very much higher, then doth the fire; but yet still, notwithstanding all that, it is no distinct thing, from the very fire; but it is the flame itself, which still, is in the fire. Your Reverence will understand this matter, by your learning; but as for me, I know not, how to declare it better. For my part, the thing, which I pretend to declare, is, what the Soul finds, and feels, when it is in this Divine Union; for, as for the knowing, what an Union, in general, is, it is every where understood, well enough, to be, when two several things, become one.  
O my dear Lord! and how good art thou? Blessed be thou for ever; and let all things praise thee, O my God, who hast been pleased, to love us in such sort, as that we may be able, to speak with truth, of this kind of communication, which thou vouchsafest to hold with Souls, even in this banishment of ours; which, although they were never so holy, and good, yet this latitude of liberality, and magnificence of thine, were great, in proceeding with them after this manner. But, in fine, it is all thine own Majesty, and Greatness, who givest, after the rate, of what thou art. O infinite latitude of Bounty! and how magnificent are thy works? They are able, even to amaze any such person, as hath not his Understanding wholly employed, upon the things of this world; and who hath left himself no room, both for the knowing, and considering such things, as are real truths. But now, that thou shouldst be pleased, to fasten such Sovereign Favours upon Souls, which have offended thee so much, doth really, even make an end of my very Understanding; and when once, I come to consider of this proceeding of thine, I am even unable to pass on, any further. But indeed, how can any Creature go any whither, in this case, which shall not be, a mere coming back again; since no Soul can ever know, how to give thee any tolerable thanks, for so incomparable Favours? As for me, I help myself sometimes, with speaking certain impertinencies, which have neither head, nor foot; and it often happens to me, both when I come from receiving these Favours, and when also our Lord is beginning to impart them (for, as for the very time, when I am enjoying them, I have already showed, that there is then, no power at all, to do any thing) that I express myself to his Divine Majesty, much after this manner: O Lord, consider well, what thou dost; forget not my so very grievous Sins so very soon; and though thou have forgotten them, so far, as to vouchsafe to forgive them, yet remember them also (I humbly beseech thee) so far, as to make thee put some limits upon those Favours, which thou art pleased to bestow upon me. Pour not, O my Creator, so precious a liquor as that, into so broken a vessel as this; since already, thou hast seen, how often I have scattered, and spilt it. O lodge not, and trust not, such a treasure as this, where the appetite, and affection, to all the consolations of this life, is not yet so totally lost, and spent, as it ought to be; for, if thou do, it will be utterly wasted. How canst thou find in thy hart, to deliver the strength of this City, and even the very keys of the Fort, into the hands of such a cowardly Commander, who is likely not to fail, to give the Enemy entrance, upon the first Assault, which he shall make. Let not, O my Eternal King, thy love to me, be so great, as that it should make thee put such precious jewels as these, into hazard. And to me, it seems, O my Lord, that thou mayst give the world occasion hereby, to undervalue these great Favours of thine; since thou puttest them into the custody, and power, of a Creature, who is so wicked, so base, so weak, so miserable, and of so little worth, in any kind. Who, though I now begin to labour, that I may not utterly lose them, through thy favour (which also hath no need to be little, considering, what kind of thing I am) shall yet be never able, to gain any other Creature to thee, by means thereof. In fine, I am a woman, and no good woman, but a very wicked one; and it seems, that these Talents of thine, are thus, not only to be hidden, by this means, but even to be quite buried up; since thou puttest them into so ungracious, and unlucky a Soil. Thou art not wont, O Lord, to impart such Favours, and Greatnesses as these, to any Soul, but when there may be hope, that she will be able to gain many others, to thy Service. And thou knowest, O my God, already, that I have, sometimes, begged this Favour; and still I beg it of thee, with my whole hart, and with the entire affection thereof; and I am resolved to think it fit, to be content, to lose the highest blessing, which can possibly be enjoyed upon earth, to the end, that thou mayst vouchsafe it to some other, who will profit more by it; that so, thine own glory may be increased.  
Both these, and such other things, as these, hath it occurred to me, to utter many times; but yet afterward, I perceived mine own great folly heerin, together with my little humility; for, our Lord knows very well, what is fittest for every Creature; and, that there was not to be strength enough, in my Soul, whereby she might ever grow, to be saved, if his Divine Majesty had not enriched her, with so great Favours.  
But I also now pretend to declare, the graces, and effects, 
* The great effects of this high Prayer.  which remain by this Prayer, in the Soul; and what that is, which she may be able to do, of herself; and, if she may, any way, conduce, towards the bringing herself, to this high State. It happens, that this Elevation of the Spirit, or Union, come, both of them, with a Celestial kind of Love.. For (according to my way of understanding) this 
* The difference betweme Elevation, and Union.  Union, is a different things from Elevation; though yet the Soul be elevated, in this very Union. Whosoever hath not tried, and felt this last, will be of a different conceit; but yet, in my opinion, though even it should be all one, yet our Lord works therein, after a different manner; And, by the increase, which the Soul hath, of being able to untie herself from the love of all Creatures, she seems to be very much greater, in that Flight, and Elevation of the Spirit. And I have clearly seen, that this is a distinct, and particular Favour, although the things themselves, may be all one, as I say; or at least, may seem so. But a small fire, is as truly, and really, Fire, as a great one; and yet still, we see difference enough, between the one, and the other; for, before a little iron can be able to be made red hot, in a small fire, a good space of time will be spent; but now, if the fire be great, the iron, though it be also great, will lose the appearance of iron, very quickly. Just so, doth it seem to me, to happen in these two sorts of Favours from our Blessed Lord; and I know, that whosoever may ever have arrived, to be in Rapt, will understand me well; but such as have had no experience therein, will hold all that, to be impertinent, which I have said. Perhaps also it is so indeed; and so, as he will have had reason, who believes it. For, how shall such a thing, as I, presume to speak of such a thing as this; and to give some part of that, to be understood, which it seems impossible, even to begin to declare, with any words? So that it is not strange, a whitt, if I talk idly. But yet I believe this, of our Blessed Lord (because his Divine Majesty knows, that, next to this act of Obedience, my intention is no other, then to make Souls, even, as it were, gluttonous, after the obtaining of so high a good) that he will be pleased, to assist me heerin; and I am sure, I will say nothing, whereof I have not had much experience. And it is a real truth, that when I began to write of this Water, I conceived it to be a more impossible thing, for me to treat of it, then to speak Greek; so very hard, did I find it. Upon this, I gave it over, and went to receive the Blessed Sacrament. But our Lord be ever praised, who doth so great Favours to ignorant persons. O virtue of Obedience, which art able to do all things! For, Almighty God did illuminate my understanding, sometimes, by helping me to the very express words, which I was to use; and, at other times, by representing the manner to me, how I should declare the thing; So that, as his Divine Majesty was pleased to do, in the former Degree of Prayer, it seems, that he will also here declare, what I neither can, nor know, how to express. But that which now I say, is a most literal truth; and so, that which shall be good, is his instruction, and doctrine; and whatsoever falls-out to be ill, it is clear, that it proceeds, and flows, from this deep Sea of mischief, and Sin, which is myself. And therefore I here affirm, that if any have arrived to these points, and particulars of Prayer, wherein our Lord hath done so great Favour, to this miserable, and wretched Creature, (as it is likely, that there are many) if they shall be pleased, to treat of these things with me, as conceauing, that I am mistaken, and out of the way, our Lord will so assist this poor Servant of his, as that she may be able, to go forward, to uphold this truth.  
But now, to speak of this last Water, which comes from Heaven, to satisfy, and even fulfil the whole Garden, by the abundance thereof; if our Lord did never forbear to give it, whensoever there were need, it is evident enough already, of what case it would be to the Gardener, and that there would never be any Winter, but always most temperate weather; nor would there ever, be any want, either of Fruits, or Flowers; and so it may be easily seen, in what delight he would remain. But, as long as we live in this world, this condition is a kind of impossible thing; and we must always be in care, that whensoever we shall want one of the Waters, we may procure another. This last, which falls from Heaven, comes down sometimes, even when the Gardener thinks of it least. True it is, that these things are almost ever wont to happen, after a long exercise of Mental Prayer. For, our Lord uses to come, by degrees, to catch this poor little Bird, and to lodge it then, safely, in the Nest; to the end, that it may rest, and repose. And after it had put itself long, upon Flights, procuring, by the exercise of the Understanding, and Will, and, in fine, by all the Powers it had, to go in search of Almighty God, and to please him, he vouchsafes to allow it a reward, even in this life; yea, and this, so very great a reward, that any one little moment thereof, may well suffice, as a full satisfaction, and retribution, for all that care, and trouble, which he could ever have endured, in this world.  
The Soul being thus, in search of Almighty God, doth find herself, as it were, even sink, under a sweet, and most excessive delight; as being all, in a certain way of dear fainting; so that the breath is even beginning to fail, and so also, doth all corporal strength; in such sort, as that the Creature is now not able, so much, as to move her hands, but with much pain. The eyes are also closed, though without any purpose to shut them; and when, by accident, they chance to be open, she, in effect, sees nothing distinctly; nor, if she read, can she so much as judge rightly of any letter; nor can she even guess, how to name it right. She sees, that indeed, there are letters; but, the Understanding not giving her any assistance, she knows not how to read, though she would. She hears, but yet understands not, what she hears; so that she receives no other benefit at all, by her Senses, but only, that they will not permit her, to take the full fruition of her delight; and so, upon the matter, they do her more hurt, then good. As for speaking, it is a vanity, so much as to think of any such thing; for she cannot possibly hit right, so much as in framing any one word; nor, if she were able to judge it, were she yet possibly able, to pronounce it; in regard, that all the strength of her Body, is absolutely lost, for the greater increase of that, of her Soul, that so, she may the better enjoy her glory. The exterior delight also, which she feels, is both great, and very certain.  
This Prayer puts the person to no manner of inconvenience in any kind, how long soever it may last; at least, it never put me to any; nor am I able to remember, (when our Lord did me this Favour) how sick, or weak soever I were, that I ever found myself the worse; but rather, with much improvement, even in the way of health. But indeed, what hurt can ever be done to any Creature, by so great a blessing, as this? It is so known a truth, concerning the exterior operations, that there can no doubt be made, but that there were natually great occasions, for their alteration, since our Lord took all their strength from them, though yet it were with so great delight, that the same grew afterward, to be greater.  
It is true, that in the beginning, this state, and feeling, is wont to pass away, in very short time; at least, it happened so, to me. But, as for these exterior signs, as also in this failing of operation in the Senses, it is not so easily to be given to be understood, when things pass away in short time; but yet they are discerned with ease, by the excess of the Favours. For, the clearness, and heat of the Sun, must needs have been then, very great, when all that, which came in the way, was so absolutely melted, and dissolved.  
Let this also be well noted, that, in my opinion, how long soever that space of time might seem to be, wherein all the Powers of the Soul were in suspense, it must needs have been indeed, very short; and, if it should arrive, to half an hour, it were very much. For my part, I think I was never so long. True it is, that one can hardly judge, how long they are, since the Parties are deprived of outward sense: but I say, that it must needs be a very short time, wherein no one of the Powers, can be able to return again, to itself.  
But now, the Will is, indeed, the only Power, which maintains the Work; for, as for the other two, they quickly become importunate upon her. Yet the Will remaining quiet, and fixed, suspends them yet again; and so they stay another little while; and afterward return to live, as before.  
In this manner, some whole hours of Prayer, may be passed; yea and sometimes, they are passed so. For, when the two Powers of the Soul, have tasted of that Celestial wine, and begin to be inebriated with it, they easily are induced to lose themselves, once again, so to get still, the more, by the bargain; and so they go to accompany the Will; and all three, come to be in the act of enjoying. But this point of being totally lost, and so without framing any Imagination at all (which Power, in my way of understanding, is also wholly lost) I say, lasts but a very little time; though yet they come not always, so wholly to themselves, upon a sudden, but that they may remain, even some hours, as in a kind of being, still, a little out of the way, and in disorder; Almighty God vouchsafing, to recollect them again to himself, by little, and little.  
And now let us come to the interior of that, which the Soul is wont to feel, at these times; and let them declare it, who know how; since it cannot be well understood, and much less expressed. I was thinking, (when I disposed myself to write this, (as soon as I had received the B. Sacrament, and after the end of this very kind of Prayer, which now I write) of what the Soul did, at that time. And our Lord said this to me, in these words: It doth, my Daughter, dissolve, and defeat itself, to be so, the more ingulfed in me; for now it is no longer she, who lives, but I; and since she cannot comprehend that, which she understands, her very understanding it, after a kind of Moral way, which she doth, is really a not understanding it, after a strict, & comprehensive way, which she is not able to do. He who shall have had trial of this, by experience, will be able to arrive to the expression of some part thereof; but, as for me, I cannot deliver that, more clearly, which passes here, since it is so very obscure. I can only say, that, in this case, their being then, so close to Almighty God, is represented to them; and there remains such a kind of certainty thereof, that it cannot possibly fail, to be believed.  
And now here, all the Powers of the Soul fall short of operation, and are suspended, in such sort, that, by no means (as I have said) it can possibly be understood, that they work. If she were thinking of some Mystery, it is instantly so forgotten, as if there had never been any such thought. If she were reading, there is no remembrance of it; nor yet of pausing; and if praying vocally, in like manner. So that now, this importunate little Gnatt of the Memory, hath her wings burnt here, and can now no longer spring-up, nor stir. The Will also, is now employed, all, in loving; though it vnderstand not, how it loves. The Understanding, if it understand, it is not yet understood, how it understands; and, at least, it can comprehend nothing of that, which it understands. To me, it doth not seem, that it understands; because (as I was saying) it is not understood; and, for my part, I attain not, to understand all this.  
At the first, I chanced to be in so great an ignorance, as not to know, that Almighty God, was in all things; and considering, how very present, I conceived him to be to me, it seemed impossible for me, to believe the contrarie. To leave therefore to believe that he was there, I could not; because it seemed to me, as it were, apparently, and clearly, that I had understood his very Presence to be there. Some men, who were not learned, told me, that he was only there, by his Grace; which still, I could not possibly believe; because, as I was saying, I held him to be directly present otherwise; and thus I continued, with some trouble. But, at length, a great learned man of the Order of the Glorious S. Dominick, freed me from this doubt; and told me, not only, that he was present, but that he also communicated himself to us; which comforted me very much.  
But now, it is here to be noted, and understood, that this Celestial Water, is always a most eminent Favour of our Lord, and gives the Soul excessively great advantages; as I shall now declare.   

THE NINETEENTH CHAPTER.  
She prosecutes the same Discourse; and begins to declare the effects, which this Degree of Prayer, works in the Soul. She persuades men earnestly, not to turn back, nor to give-over their Prayer, though they should happen to fall, even after they had received these Favours. She speaks of the great harm, which will arrive to them, if they do otherwise. This Discourse is much to be noted; and it is of great consolation, for weak persons, and Sinners.  
THe Soul doth, in this Prayer, and Union, remain with an excessive kind of tenderness; in such sort, that she would feign, even defeat, and dissolve herself; not through pain, or trouble, but by abundance of tears of joy, wherein she is bathed, without so much, as feeling, or knowing, how, or when she wept them. It gives her a great delight, to find the impetuous force of that fire, appeased, and allayed by Water; which yet makes it increase so much the more. This language of mine, may seem to be a kind of gibberish; but yet, thus stands the case.  
It hath happened to me sometimes, when I was in this part of this Prayer, to be so 
* She proceeds in declaring the great effects of this high Prayer.  wholly out of myself, as that I knew not, whether I were awake, or asleep; or whether, in very deed, I had been in that glory, which I felt; and whether it were true, that I was indeed, so, all bathed in water, which distilled with such force, and speed, from mine eyes, that it seemed, as if a very Cloud of Heaven had rained it down; but, in fine, I found that it was no dream. This happened to be in the beginnings of this Prayer; and it passed quickly over. But the Soul remains so courageous thereby, that, if it were possible for her to be cut into a thousand pieces for God's sake, it would be of extreme consolation to her. And now, here come in, all her promises; her heroical resolutions; the lively efficacy of her desires; her beginning to abhor the world; her clearly discerning her own vanity; and all this, much more perfectly, and more highly, than it happened in any of her former Prayers. Her humility is also grown much stronger; for now, she very clearly discerns, that no diligence at all, of her own, was any piece of a cause, for bringing her that excessive, and incomparable Favour; nor for making her enjoy the same. She sees now clearly, that she is a most unworthy Creature; for, in any room, where there enters a strong, and clear Sunbeam, there is not the least, and thinnest Cobweb, which can lie hid. She now looks very clearly, upon her own misery; and now she is so very free from Vainglory, that it seems a kind of impossible thing, for her to have any; because now already, she hath it even in her very eye, how little she is able to perform; or rather, in very deed, that it is, just nothing at all; and that, in this case, there was hardly so much, as any consent of hers; but that it seems, that even, whether she would, or no, they shut the gates of all her Senses, up; to the end, that she might so, the better enjoy her Lord; and that now, since she remains all alone with him, what can she have to do, but to love him? She neither can see, nor hear, unless she be made to do so, as it were, by very strong hand; and therefore, there is little, for which, to thank her. Her former life, grows then, to be represented to her, with perfect truth; together with the great mercy of Almighty God. And all this, occurrs to her, without any necessity at all, that her Understanding should now, go hunting after it. For there, doth she already find all this kind of food, ready dressed, for her, to vnderstand, and eat. Of herself, she sees very well, that she deserves Hellfire; and that now, in stead thereof, they give her no other punishment, than glory. And therefore she doth now, even consume herself, in the praises of Almighty God; and now would I be glad, even to consume myself so. Blessed be thou, O my Lord, who haste, in such sort, vouchsafed, to make so filthy a Fishpond, as I was, become so pure, and clear a water, as that it may serve for thine own Table. Be thou adored, and praised, O thou Regalo of the Angels, who hast vouchsafed, thus to exalt so base a worm.  
This profit of the Soul, remains, for some time, therein; and now she can already understand clearly enough, that the Fruit is none of her own; and she begins to give part of it to others, without ever feeling any want of it herself. She now begins also, to give signs, and appearances, of being the owner of some such Soul, as it to be a jewel-house, fit for the Treasures of Heaven; and to carry great desires, of making others partake them; and humbly to beseech Almighty God, that she may not be alone, in possessing them. She begins now, to profit her Neighbours, without almost understanding it herself, and without her seeming to do any thing therein; but they, who receive the benefit, understand it well. For already, do those Flowers yield so high, and apparent a Scent, that it invites all the world, to come near them. They know, that she hath great Virtues; and they see, that the Fruit is very tempting; and they would fain help her to eat it.  
And now, if the earth of this Garden be manured, and digged-up very deep, with Persecutions, with Detractions, and with Sickness; (as there are few, who arrive thus far, without these things) and if also, it be very clean stripped of all proper Interest, the Water sinks so very deeply, into this Soil, that it will scarce be ever dry again. But yet, if it be such a kind of earth, as that (with being earth) it have also, such a quantity, and company of thorns, as I remained with, in the beginning; and, if it want a rooting-out of the occasions of ill, and is not withal, so grateful, as so high a Favour requires, that Soil grows again, to be dry. And, in that case, if the Gardner prove negligent, and slack, and if out Lord, through his own only goodness, do not again resolve, to bestow rain upon it, you may well give this Garden, for destroyed, and lost. For just thus, did it happen to me, several times; and really, I am even amazed, to reflect upon it; yea, and it were not possible for me, to believe it, if the case had not been wholly mine own.  
But now I write thus much, for the comfort of such Souls, as are weak, like mine; to the end, that they may never despair, nor so much, as once leave, to have confidence, in the greatness of Almighty God; and that, 
* A Consideration of strange comfort.  although they should fall, even after our Lord had brought them, to so incomparable Favours as are mentioned here, they must not yet despair, unless they will be totally lost; for, there is nothing, which will not be gotten with tears; and so, the employing of one Water, will be the means of getting another.  
One of the things, by which I have been animated (with being that miserable Creature, which I am) to write this Discourse, and to give this kind of account, of my wicked Life, and of the Favours, which our Lord hath been pleased to do me, (and that, not whilst I was serving him, but offending him) hath been this. And really, I wish now, that I were some person of great authority, that so I might be the better believed, in this particular; and I humbly beseech the Divine Majesty of my dear Lord, that he will bestow this Favour upon me. I say then, that no one, even of those Creatures, who have begun, to use Mental Prayer, is to be dismayed with saying: If I should return to be wicked again, it would be worse for me, to go forward with the use of Prayer. For, the thing, which I believe, is, that it will be worse, if he give-over his Prayer, and forbear to reform his life. But, if he shall not give-over his Prayer, let him be confident, that it will bring him again, to the Port, where he shall be able to see the Lantern, and arrive safe. The Devil made so fierce battery against me, and I passed so long, without Prayer, (as conceauing, that, being so wicked, as I was, it would be an act of more humility, to desist from it) that I gave it over, for about a year, and a half, or for a year at least; for, of the half year, I remember it not, so very precisely. But this was likely to be, and was then, indeed, no other thing, then for me to put myself even into Hell, without needing any Devils, for that purpose.  
O my dear Lord, how great is that blindness, and how unhappily doth the Devil hit right, for his purpose, in laying so heavy a load upon us, heerin? The Traitor knows very well, that he hath lost that Soul, which continues, with perseverance, in Prayer; and that all those Falls, which he procures to give us, will but assist us, through the goodness of Almighty God, to make, afterwards, the greater leap, towards his Service. The Devil, I say, knows very well, how much this imports him. But, O my dear jesus, what a thing it is, to see a Soul, in this State, falne-back 
* This is strange indeed.  to Sin, when yet thou, by thy mercy, dost lend him, that hand of thine, to rise again? O, how will such an one, come to know, the multitude of thy greatnesses, and mercies; together with his own misery? Here comes this Creature in, to understand thy Majestical way; and to annihilate himself, in good earnest. Here is the Soul, not once presuming, so much, as to lift her eyes up, to Heaven, though yet she raise her thoughts, to consider the unspeakable obligation, which she hath to thee. She here, grows all devoted, to the Queen of Heaven, that she may help to appease thee. Heer, she invokes those Saints, who fell, after thou hadst once called them, to thy Service; to the end, that she may be assisted by them. Heer, she conceives, and finds, that whatsoever Crosses thou send her, they are all of them, too easy, and light; because she sees already, that she deserves not the very ground, upon which she goes. Heer, enters the frequenting the Sacraments of the Church, and that vigorous Livelie Faith, which now remains in her hart, as seeing the great power, and virtue, which God infused into it. The praising thee, for having left such Unguents, and other Medicines, for the cure of our Sores; which close not only the skin, but take them utterly away. In a word, she is amazed, at all these things; and who, O thou Lord of my Soul, is not to be amazed, at so great mercy, and at such an overflowing kind of Favour, upon our Treasons, which are so abominable, and fowl, that, for my part, I cannot understand, how my hart comes not, even to splitt, when I write thus much; because I find myself so very wicked? And yet, the while, it seems, as if I had a mind, to make thee a kind of recompense, & satisfaction, for so many fowl Treasons, as I have committed against thee, by these few, poor, little tears of mine, which yet are given me, by thyself; and which really, for my part thereof, are but as so much water of a stinkeing Well. For, still I am committing Sins, & procuring to frustrate, &, even as it were, annihilate the Favours, which thou hast done me. But, be thou pleased, O my Dear Lord, to give value to these poor tears, and do thou purify this so troubled Water of my Soul, though it should be for no other reason, then only to keep men free, from the temptation of making rash judgements; as, for my part, I have been subject to this thought. Why, O Lord, dost thou pass over those other holy people, who have always served, and suffered for thee; and have been bred-up, in the way of a Religious Life; and are, indeed, truly Religious; and not like me, who had no more thereof, than the name; And yet, I clearly see, that thou didst them not those Favours, which thou hast done me. But yet here, I discern very well, O thou my eternal Good, that thou keepest their reward in store, that so thou mayst give it them, all together; and that my weakness, is so great, that I had need to be proceeded with, thus; whereas they, like gallant persons, are content, to serve thee still, without these helps; and so thou treatest them, as valiant people, who have no interest of their own.  
But yet I, with all this, O my Lord, cryed-out many times, before thee, excusing them, who murmured against me; because I thought, they had too much reason, for what they said. But this occurred to me, O Lord, when, already, through thy goodness, thou withheldst me, from offending thee so highly, any more; and when I went diverting myself from all that, which I thought might displease thee. For, when once I began to do but thus much, thou also didst begin to open thy Treasures, towards this Servant of thine; and, it seems, thou didst expect nothing else, but only, that there might be an inclination in me, to receive them; so quickly didst thou begin, not only to bestow them, but to be pleased, that the world should understand it. When this was once perceived, some began to hold a good opinion of me; though all had not yet known well, how ill I was; and that, much of it did then half appear. But then, did Detraction, and Persecution begin, at a clapp; and, in my opinion, not without much cause. And therefore, I undertook no enmity against any Creature; but only besought thy Divine Majesty, to consider, what little reason they had. They said, that I had a mind, to make myself a Saint; and that I invented certain Novelties, though I had not arrived yet, by a great deal, to fulfil all mine own Rule; nor overtaken, in the way of virtue, those many good, and holy Religious Women, who were in that Monastery. Nor do I think indeed, that I shall ever arrive so far, (unless Almighty God, through his goodness, will be pleased to perform it all, on his part) but rather, that I was likely to abolish that, which was good, and to establish certain customs, which were not so; at least, I did what I could, to introduce them; and I had always power enough, to do hurt. So that they blamed me, without any fault of theirs; nor do I say, that they were only Religious Women, but others also, who told me truth, because it was permitted by thee.  
When once I was saying my Office, I, who had sometimes, been subject to this temptation, came to this Verse: justus es, Domine, & rectum iudicium tuum; Thou art just O Lord, and thy judgement is right; and I began to consider, how true this was; for, in this kind, the Devil had never power to tempt me, so far, as to make me doubt, but that thou, O Lord, art the Owner, and Author of all goodness; no nor yet, in any thing at all, which belongs to Faith. Nay rather it seemed to me, that the more they were above Nature, the more firmly did I believe them; yea, and they caused even more devotion in me. And, in regard that thou art Omnipotent, all such greatnesses, as thou shouldst be pleased to act, and execute, were resolved upon, and concluded in me; and of this, as I was saying, I never had doubt. So that, when I came afterward to consider, how thou couldst permit, that there should be so many dear Servants of thine, as I was saying, who yet received not those Favours, and Regalos, which thou wert pleased, to vouchsafe me, (I being so miserable a Creature, as I was) thou answeredst me thus, O Lord: Do thou serve me; and do not trouble thyself, with that. Now, this was the very first Word of that kind, which ever I perceived thee to speak to me; and therefore, it amazed me much; And I will, hereafter, declare this manner of understanding things; together with divers others. I speak not of it here; for it were to go from the purpose; and I believe, I have gone from it already; and, in effect, I scarce know, what I have said; nor can it indeed, well, be otherwise; but your Reverence must needs bear with these intervals, and interruptions. For, when I once consider, how much God endures at my hands, and, withal, behold myself in this condition, it is not to go for a strange thing, that I lose my aim, both in that, which I say, and am to say. And I beseech our Lord, that all my impertinencies, and roaving, may always be of this kind; and that his Divine Majesty may not permit, that I may ever vary one hairs breadth, from him, but rather, that I may be consumed, even in this moment. For it may well be sufficient for me, to have observed, and discerned his great mercy, not once, but often, in that he hath been pleased, to pardon so great an ingratitude, as mine. He pardoned S. Peter once; but me, often; so that the Devil had some kind of reason, to tempt me, as hoping, that I would not pretend, to hold strait friendship with one, with whom I had been in so public enmity. But how great, O Lord, was this blindness of mine? For, where could I ever think, O my Lord, to find any remedy, but by thee? What a senseless kind of folly, was it for me, to fly from the light, that so, I might, for ever, go stumbling-on in the dark? What a foolish kind of proud Humility was that, which the Devil invented for me, when he persuaded me to depart, from leaning against that Staff, and Pillar, 
* The strong Pillar of Prayer.  which might support me; that so, my Fall might not be so great? At this instant do I bless myself, with the Cross; for, me thinks, I never passed a danger, so very hazardous, in my whole life, as this invention was, which the Devil had a mind to teach me, by way of Humility. For, he put it into my conceit, to think, how it could be possible, that so wicked a thing, as myself, having received so great Favours, from Almighty God, could ever procure to come to Mental Prayer; and that, for me, it would suffice, if I said those Vocal Prayers, to which I was bound; as others did; but that, since now I did not even thus much, well, what sense was there, that I should pretend to do more; and that this, was to express little reverence to Almighty God, and to undervalue his Favours.  
It was fit, to think, and know all this; but to put it in execution, had been extremely ill done. And be thou Blessed, O Lord, who brought'st me the remedy. For, this temptation seems to have been no less, than a beginning to that other, which the Devil brought upon judas; but, that Traitor, the Devil, durst not tempt me, so openly, but would fain have come, by little and little, to set upon me; as he did, upon him.  
And now, for the love of our Lord, let all them, who use Mental Prayer, consider 
* Consider this very well.  that, which follows, very well. Let them know, that, during the time, when I forbore it, my life was much worse, than before. And let it be well considered, what a fine kind of remedy the Devil brought me, and what a dainty ridiculous Humility, it must be, which could fill me, with so deep a disquiet. For indeed, how could this Soul of mine, appease itself? The ignorant, foolish Creature went away, as fast as she could, from her true repose, and rest. She had her Favours, and Regalo's, present to her memory; and she found, that the contentments of this world, were so loathsome, as even almost to provoke a Vomit. But I am amazed, how I could endure it; though belike, it was with some kind of hope, that, at the worst hand, I might be able to remain free from Sin; for, I never, as I remember, (though yet, it be now, more than one & twenty years ago) gave-over a being resolved, to return to Prayer. But, O, how ill-grounded, and addressed, was this hope of mine? For, the Devil would fain have turned me over, till the Day of judgement; that so, from thence, he might conduct me to Hell.  
But yet now afterward, I frequenting Prayer, & Reading, which was indeed the way, to see real Truths; & looking down, upon that wicked course, which I was holding; and often importuning our Blessed Lord, with many tears, I was yet, so very wretched, that I knew not, by any means, how to help myself. But then again, on the other side, I growing to give-over these good things, and employing myself upon certain idle pastimes; and exposing myself to many occasions of ill; and enjoying very few helps; (and I may rather venture to say, none at all, but only such, as might help me to fall) for what, might I ever hope, but what I have said? I believe, that a certain Religious man of S. Dominicks Order, who was very learned, hath great merit, in the sight of God; for he awaked me out of this sleep. And he made me (as, I think, I have already expressed) receive the B. Sacrament, every Fortnight. And so, my misery being then, not altogether so great, I began to come back again into myself; though yet withal, I forbore not, to commit some offences against our Lord. But, because I had not lost my way, I went still on, with falling, & rising; though yet, but by little, and little. And he, who never gives-over to go forward, will arrive at length, by going softly, though it be late. For my part, I conceive, that, for a Soul to lose her way, and to leave her Prayer, is indeed but one, and the self same thing; and our Lord deliver us from it, for his own Mercies sake.  
It is, heerupon, to be inferred, (and I desire, even for the love of our Lord, that it may be much observed) that, although a Soul shall come to such pass, as that our Lord may do her great Favours, in Prayer, she must not yet, be confident of herself, since she may yet, come to fall again. And let her not, by any means, expose herself to 
* Take heed.  occasions of Sinne. Let her be careful, to consider thus much; for, the deceit, of which the Devil is wont to serve himself, in this occasion, is very great. For, though the Favour, which was imparted to the Soul, were most certainly from Almighty God, yet the Traitor will not fail to serve himself of that very Favour, in whatsoever he can; and especially, for the disadvantage of persons, who are not strong in virtue, and mortification; nor are absolutely untied, and loose, from all things, belonging to this world. For, men, in fine, must know, that they are not, by means of this Prayer, sufficiently strengthened, and fortified (as I will declare afterward) for the putting themselves into occasions, and dangers; how great desires, and resolutions soever, they may have.  
This is an excellent Doctrine; and it is not mine, but taught by Almighty God himself; and so I shall be glad, that all ignorant persons, like me, may learn it. For, though a Soul be never so high, in this State, yet must she not trust herself so far, as to go out, to combat; but she will have acquitted herself well, if she can defend herself. So that, in this State, and condition, it will be necessary for her, to carry Defensive Arms, against the Devil; for yet, she hath not strength enough, wherewith to assault him; and much less, to tread him under foot; as yet, they will be able to do, who shall find themselves, in that State; whereof I will discourse afterward. But this, is that device, and cosening-Trick, whereby the Devil is wont to take us; That, when once he sees a Soul arrive to be so very near to our Lord, and which can judge so very well, of the difference, between the blessings, which belong to this life, and the next; and of the Love, which our Lord bears to that Soul; from this very Love, he makes such a kind of confidence, and security grow, as that she shall never, forsooth, be able to fall from that, which she is enjoying, at that time. And she also seems, there-upon, to eye her reward, so very clearly, that she is easily brought to hold it, even impossible for her, to quit that, which is so very delightful, and gustful, even in this life, for so base, and filthy a thing, as worldly pleasure is. Now, by means of this vain confidence, doth the Devil grow to deprive her, of the distrust, which otherwise she would have, of her own strength; and thus, she exposes herself, as I was saying, to danger; and begins, with a foolish kind of good zeal, to be giving the Fruits of her Garden, away, to others, without any limits; as believing now, that she hath no more cause, so to be afraid, concerning herself; and that this, is not, forsooth, out of pride (for, the Soul understands well enough, that she is able to do nothing, of herself) but through the much 
* A most dangerous temptation.  confidence, which she hath, in Almighty God. Yet all this, is without discretion; because she doth not well consider, that she hath not yet, mewed all her own sick-feathers. She may well step out of her Nest; yea, and Almighty God himself, will, perhaps, take her, now, and then, out, from thence. But she is not yet, fit for a Flight, because her virtues are not yet grown to be of full strength; nor hath she yet, experience, for the knowledge of dangers; nor doth she yet, understand the mischief, which grows, by putting too much trust, in her own forces.  
And now, this is that, which destroyed me; and both for this, and for all things, there will be great necessity, of a Director; and of conversation with persons, who are spiritual, indeed. It is true, I am fully persuaded, that, when Almighty God doth once bring a Soul to this state, he will not leave to favour her, nor suffer her to perish; if she do not very shamefully, and entirely, forsake, and forbear, to serve his Divine Majesty. But yet, if it should so happen, that she fall, let her consider, and consider again, (even for the love of our Blessed Lord) and take heed, that the Devil deceive her not, so far, as to make her give-over her Prayer, as he did me, under the pretence of false Humility; as I have declared; and, as I would fain repeat, very often. But, let her trust in the goodness of Almighty God, which is greater, than all the sins, which we can commit; and let her hope, that he will not remember our ingratitude, when once we, reflecting duly upon ourselves, desire to return again to his friendship; nor even 
* Consider, and admire this passage.  so far consider the Favours, which he hath done us, as to make us be punished for them; but that rather they will help to obtain pardon for us, so much the sooner, as for persons, who have belonged to his House, and have had the honour to eat (as men use to say) of his bread. Let them remember his words; and consider, how he hath proceeded with me, who even wearied myself, with offending his Divine Majesty, before he would forbear, or fail, to pardon me. For, he never grows unwilling to give; nor is it ever possible, to draw his Mercies dry; and so, let not us be weary of ever receiving Favour, at his hands. Let him be blessed for ever, Amen; and let all creatures praise him.   

THE TWENTIETH CHAPTER  
Wherein she treats of the difference, between Union, and Rapt; and declares, what kind of thing, a Rapt is. She speaks also, of the blessing, which that Soul hath, which our Lord, through his goodness, brings thither; and of the Effects, which Rapts use to produce. This Discourse is of much admiration.  
I Would be glad to know, how to declare (through the Favour of Almighty God) the difference, which there is, between Union, on the one side; and Rapt, and Flight, (as they are wont to call it) of Spirit, on the other; for, these two latter, do signify, in substance, but one thing; and it is also called Extasis. The advantage is very great, which belongs to Rapt, beyond Union; and the effects also, which it produces, are much greater; and it hath also many other operations. For, mere Union, seems to be always, after the same manner; both in the beginning; in the middle; and in the end; and it is always, in the interior part. But now, as Rapts are Visitations of the Soul, which use to be of a higher Strain, they are wont to produce their Effects, not only interiorly, but exteriorly also. I humbly beseech our Blessed Lord, that, as he hath vouchsafed to declare the rest, so he will also vouchsafe to do this; for certainly, if his Divine Majesty had not been pleased to give me to understand, by what means, & in what manner, it might be done, I should not possibly have known, which way to turn my hand.  
Let us therefore now consider, that this last Water, whereof we have spoken, is so very plentiful, and abundant, that, if it were not, because the Soil of the Garden cannot consent to receive it, we might believe, that the very Cloud itself, of that great Majesty, were here, raining itself down, upon this earth. And so, when we are grateful to our Lord, for this great blessing, acknowledging the same, by our good works, according to the uttermost of our power, our Lord catches-up 
* The manner & nature of Rapts.  that Soul (as a man may say) even just so, as the clouds snatch up the vapours, from the earth; and so, taking her wholly up, from the same earth, the cloud rises up to Heaven, and carries the same along, with itself; and shows her certain things, belonging to that Kingdom, which is prepared for her. I know not, whether this Comparison will be thought to suit well, with that, whereof I am speaking; but I am sure, that, in reality of truth, it passes thus. In these Rapts, it doth not seem, that the Soul doth even animate the Body; and so, the Body itself, remains with a kind of trouble, and defect, through the want of that natural heat, which belongs to it; and it goes, all cooling itself, though yet, with an excessive sweetness, and delight. There is here, no means at all, to resist; though in Union (we being then, as in our own Country) there is some remedy; and so (though it be not without suffering a kind of pain, and using some force) it may always, in effect, be employed. But here, for the most part, there is no remedy, at all; nor any help; but, many times, the thing arrives, without our being so much as able to prevent the coming of it, even by our very thought. And there grows to be, such a speedy, and strong kind of impetuosity, that you feel, and find this Cloud to raise itself instantly up; or rather, that this strong Eagle takes you, and carries you quite away, between her wings. And I say, it is understood, and you find yourself to be carried away, though you know not, whither. For, howsoever the thing happen to be with delight, yet so great is the weakness of our natural condition, that it puts us into some fear, in the beginning. And therefore, it will be necessary, in this case, for the Soul, to be much more courageous, and resolute, then for all those occasions, which were precedent. For here, she must be content to hazard all, and to leave herself wholly, in the hands of Almighty God; and to go, whithersoever she shall be carried; and this, with a very good will; for, in fine, they will be sure to carry her, whether she will, or no; and that, with so great extremity of strength, and speed, that, howsoever I had a mind, very, very often, to resist it, yea, and that I employed all the strength I had, to that purpose, (and especially, at some particular times, when things fell out, to happen, in public; yea, and at many other times also, when they were private; for I was then, in doubt, and fear, lest I might be abused, and deceived) it was yet but seldom, that I was able to prevail, to some small proportion. But it cost me a very great deal of harrassing, & weariness, to myself, just so, as if some ordinary person had been fight with some strong Giant; & afterward I should find myself very weary. But at other times, it was altogether impossible for me to hinder it; for, my Soul would be carried absolutely away, and ordinarily, even my head, as it were, after it; yea & this, sometimes, so far, as that my whole Body would be transported so, as to be raised-up from the ground. This last, hath happened rarely to me; but once it was upon the very point to arrive, whilst we all, were assembled together, in the Choir; and I being then, upon my knees, (as at the point of going to receive the Blessed Sacrament) it put me to an extremity of trouble; because it seemed to be a very extraordinary thing, and that instantly, there would be much note of it; and so I commanded my Religious-woemen (for at that time, I was grown to be Prioress) that they should not speak of it, to any creature. But, at other times, when I began to discern, that our Lord was going about, to do the same, again, (and once, in particular, when divers principal Ladies were present; and it was upon the Feast of our Vocation, when there was a Sermon) I did even spread myself, all along, upon the ground; and though the Religious women came then about me, to keep my Body down, yet the thing was easily perceived. Upon this, I humbly prayed our Lord, in most particular manner, that, by no means, he would do me any such Favours, as might carry any of these exterior demonstrations, with them; for, already, I was very weary of being necessarily so wary, and watchful over myself; for that such kind of Favours, could not possibly be done me, by his Divine Majesty, but so, that every body, would come to know it. And it seems, that, through his goodness, he hath been pleased to hear my Prayer; for, since that time, I never had any Rapts of that kind, and to that proportion; but it is true, that it is notlong, since I had the last.  
But yet now, so it is, that when I had a mind to resist these Rapts, there seemed to be somewhat of so mighty force, under my feet, which raised me up, that I know not, to what to compare it; but it came with much more impetuosity, than any of these other things of Spirit; and so, I was even torn, as it were, to pieces; for, the combat, and strife, is great; but, in fine, all helped little; for, when our Lord hath a mind to do any thing, no power is able to stand against it. At other times, he is pleased to content himself, with letting us see, that he is disposed, to do us that Favour, and that there is no aversion, in his Divine Majesty; and that we, opposing ourselves, for Humility's sake, there follow yet, the selfsame Effects, as if we had wholly consented.  
Now, these 
* The Effects of Rapts.  Effects are great. For first, the mighty power of our Blessed Lord, is made apparent thereby; and that, when his Divine Majesty is pleased to dispose of things otherwise, we are no more able to detain our Bodies, than our Souls; nor are we Lords thereof; but we must, in despite of our hearts, acknowledge, that there is a Superior; and that these Favours come from him; and that, of ourselves, we can do nothing, in nothing; and so, a great impression of Humility, is made upon the Soul, by this means. And further, I confess, that it bred also a great fear in me, (and, at the first, an extreme great one) to see, that a massy Body should be taken-up from the earth. For, though the Spirit be that, which draws it after it; and though it be with great suavity, and delight, (if it be not resisted) yet our Senses are not lost thereby; at least I, for my part, was so perfectly in my Senses, that I was able to understand, that I was raised. There doth also, hereby, appear so great a Majesty in him, who can do this, that it makes, even the very hair of the head, stand on end; and there remains a mighty fear, to offend so great a God; but yet so, as that it is wrapped up, in an excessive kind of love, which she begins to conceive, even newly, and freshly again, towards him, whom she finds, to carry so great a love to such rotten worms, as we are. For now he seems not content, with drawing the Soul only to himself, in so particular, and so certain a manner, but that he will needs also, draw the very Body too, even whilst it is so very mortal, and composed of so filthy earth, as we have made it, by our Sins. This also leaves, in the Soul, a very strange kind of loosening, and casting itself off, from all the things of this world; whereof I know not, how to express well, what it is; but, me thinks, I may well say, that it is not only, in some sort, a different, but also a greater kind of thing, than those others, which work upon the only Spirit, import. For though, in those other Visitations also, there be a kind of total untying, and loosening itself from all things, for as much as concerns the Spirit; yet here, it seems, our Lord is pleased, that even the Body also itself, shall put this point, in practice. And it breeds, in any Creature, such a new kind of shyness, and mislike, in order to the things of this world, that it makes even our very life much the more painful to us. It gives also such another 
* The strangest state of Mind, which perhaps is described in the whole Book.  pain, as we can neither tell, how to procure, when we have it not; nor free ourselves from the same, when we have it. And I would be extremely glad, to be able, to give this, to be understood; but, I believe, I shall not know, how to do it; though yet, I will say somewhat, if I be able.  
But now, it is to be noted, that these things come upon me, when I am, as it were, in the very Evening of the day, after all those Visions, and Revelations, whereof I will write; & after the time, when I used to hold that Prayer, wherein our Lord was wont to allow me so great Regalo's, and gusts. And though yet these things do not cease with me, at some times, yet doth this Pain, more often, and more usually seize upon me, which I will now declare. It hath sometimes, of the more; and sometimes, of the less; and now I will apply myself, to speak of it, as when it hath of the more. For, though I will treat hereafter, of those great impetuosities, which they used to bring upon me, before our Lord was pleased to give me those Rapts; yet they had, in my opinion, no more to do, by way of Comparison, one with another, than there is, between things Corporal, and Spiritual. And I believe, that I do not exaggerate the matter, a whitt, by saying so; because that Pain seems to be such, as that, although the Soul do feel it, yet it feels it, together, with the Body; and so, both of them, participate therein. And it is not also, with that extremity, of being, as it were, abandoned, and utterly forsaken; which yet abounds in this; wherein, as I was saying, we have no part at all, ourselves. But, there often comes a kind of desire, unseasonably, and unexpectedly, upon us; and I know not, from whence it moves. And, upon this desire, which penetrates the whole Soul, even at one very instant, she begins to afflict, and even belabour herself so, as that she rises much above herself; and indeed, above whatsoever is created; and Almighty God is pleased, to make her so very desolate, & disgusted, in order to all temporal things, that, how much soever she may labour, and endeavour to the contrary, there is nothing in this world, which will either accompany her, or whereby she would be glad to be accompanied, but even directly to die, in that Solitude. For, if any body speak to her, or if she would employ all the power, which possibly she might have, to speak to others, it serves to very little purpose; for, her Spirit (do what she can) doth still, not depart, from making her find herself, to be perfectly alone. And though it seem to me, as if Almighty God were then, extremely remote from her; yet, at times, he communicates his greatnesses to her, by a manner, the most highly strange, that can be imagined; yea and more strange, then can possibly be expressed. Nor do I believe, that any other creature will either believe it, or can understand it; but only some such person, as may have felt it. For, this is no communication, to give comfort; but only to show the reason, which that person hath, to be afflicted, and distressed, for being absent from that Good, which comprehends all good things, in it self. By means of this communication, both the desire doth increase, and so also, doth the extremity of that Solitude, wherein the Soul finds herself; together with a certain pain, which is so very delicate, and penetrative (the Soul being placed then, in that kind of Desert) that it may expressly, and even literally, seem to be, at that time, that very thing, where of the Royal Prophet spoke, when he was, in the same very Solitude. Save that, our Blessed Lord would vouchsafe the sense of those things, to him, and make him feel it, being a Saint, after a more perfect manner. But the words, whereof I speak, were these: Vigilavi, & factus sum sicut passer solitarius in tecto. I have watched, and am become like a solitary Sparrow, upon the top of a House. For so doth that Verse represent itself to me, at those times, that, me thinks, I do even see mine own condition, therein. And it comforts me to observe, that others have also found themselves, in so high an extremity of Solitude; and especially, when they were such persons, as the Royal Prophet was. So that, me thinks, this kind of Soul, is not then, itself; but rather upon the very top, or ridge, as one may say, thereof; yea, and of all things also, which are created; for then, me thinks, the Soul remains, in the very highest, and most superior part of herself.  
At other times, the Soul seems to find herself, in that occasion, as in the very extremity of necessity, and misery; and that then, she is saying, and ask herself this question: Where is now thy God? But now here, it is to be noted, that, for my part, I knew not then, what those words signified in the vulgar Tongue; yet, when afterwards I came to know it, I was much comforted to see, that our Lord was pleased to bring them to my memory, without any procurement at all, of mine. At other times, I also called that Saying of S. Paul to mind: That he was crucified to the world. I say not, that I was so; for I see but too well, that I am not; but me thinks, the Soul, in this case, is very much after that manner; for, she gets no comfort, either from Heaven, because she is not there; nor carries she any affection at all, to the Earth; nor is she also there, but remains, as if she were even crucified, between Heaven, & Earth; and suffering all the while, without receiving any succour, either from one of these places, or the other. For, that which comes to her from Heaven, (which is, as I have said before, but a notice of Almighty God, so admirable, above all that, which we know any way, how to desire) doth but serve for her greater torment, because it multiplies the same desire, in such sort, that the excessive pain thereof, doth put her, in my opinion, even past her senses; save that she remains so, but a very little while. Now this condition of mind, seems to be no less, than even the very agony, and passage of death itself; yet withal, there is so very great a contentment taken in this suffering, that I know not, to what, in fine, I may possibly be able to compare it. It is a fierce, and yet a savoury, and delightful kind of Martyrdom; since all that, which concerns this world, and which it is possible, to represent to the Soul (yea though it were, even the most delightful Object, which ever she had been accustomed to embrace) is by no means admitted, but is instantly, cast sharply away, from her. She understands also here, very well, that she cares for nothing at all, but Almighty God; and yet, she considers no particular thing, even in him; but she will have him, all together; and yet, after a sort, she knows not, what she would have. I say again, that she knows not; because her Imagination represents nothing at all, to her; yea and, in my opinion, during a great part of that time, wherein she is after that manner, the Powers of her Soul do not work that joy, which uses to be felt, both in the case of Union, and of Rapts; for they are wholly suspended by her pain.  
But O, that I were able to give your Reverence to understand this business, well; though it were, but, that you might so, make me know more particularly, what it is. For now, this is that, in which my Soul doth ordinarily most continue; &, whensoever I am not employed about somewhat, she is put even upon these very straits, and agony of death. She is afraid, when she sees them begin, for fear lest it should cost me my life; but yet when it is once begun, she would be glad, that, during all that life, which might last, she might continue, in that state of sufferance; though yet still, it be so very excessive, that the person is scarce able to endure it. For, sometimes, I am, in effect, without any pulse at all, as my Sisters tell me, who then come towards me, to see what passes; for now they begin a little, to understand more, of the case. And the bones of my very arms, to which the joints are fastened, grow then to be even opened; and my hands are so stark, and stiff, that I cannot possibly, sometimes, bring them together; and so the pain remains, till the next day after, in my wrists, and in my Body, in such a manner, that it seems, as if I were even racked, and disjointed. And I am sometimes conceauing, that our Lord may one day, perhaps, think fit (in case this course go on) to make it end, with the very ending of my life. For, so great a torment as this, may well, in my opinion, be sufficient, for so great an effect, as that; save only, that I deserve not, to be so happy.  
All the anxiety of my desire, consists, at this time, that I may die. For I neither remember Purgatory, nor yet those great Sins, which I have committed, for which I deserved Hellfire. But, all is now forgotten, through that anxiety of desire, and appetite, to see Almighty God; yea, and that vast Solitude, and Desert, wherein I am, at that time, seems a much more desirable thing, than all the sweetest society of this world. If any thing were of power, to give her comfort, in this case, it would be, that she might be able to treat with some one, who had endured the same torment; for now, though she complain thereof, it seems, that no Creature can tell, how to believe her.  
It also contributes to her torment, that this pain is so extreme, that she would feign, neither be in Solitude, nor yet have company, as others have; but only to have the society of some such persons, as to whom, she might be able to make her complaint. It is with her, in in this case, as with one, who even hath the halter about his neck; and who, whilst he is even strangling, endeavours, and would fain take his breath. For, just so, me thinks, doth this inclination to have company, seem, to be an effect of our natural frailty, and weakness; that, as this excessive pain seems to put us to imminent danger of death, (for, it is certain, that it doth all this; and I have seen myself, divers times, in this danger, through my great sicknesses, and other occasions; as I have declared; and I will believe, that this may perhaps, prove to be as great, as any of the rest) so the desire, and inclination, which, both the Body, and Soul have, not to be parted, is that, which seeks such a kind of succour, as to take breath; and by expressing itself, and diverting, and complaining, seeks yet, for some means, how to live again, here below; though still, much against the will of the Spirit, or superior part of the Soul, which would fain not be quit of this Pain.  
I know not, whether I hit right, in what I say, or if I know indeed, how to do it; but to the uttermost, and best of my opinion, it passes just thus, as I have declared. And now, your Reverence shall do well, to consider, what kind of rest, or ease, it is possible for me to enjoy, in this life; since that, which I was wont to find by means of Solitude, and Prayer (for therein, our Lord was pleased, to give me great consolations) is now most usually converted into this torment; which yet, withal, is so delicious a kind of thing, and the Soul perceives it to be of so high value, that now, she delights in it more, then in all those other Regalo's which she was ever wont to possess. For she holds it, to be more secure, as being the way of the Cross; and it gives also, in my opinion, a gust, which is of mighty worth. For she allows nothing at all to the Body, but pain; and the Soul is that, which originally suffers; and doth only feel that joy, and high contentment, which this very suffering, gives her.  
I know not, how all this, can be; but yet it passes so, in very truth, that (forasmuch as I can understand of myself) I would not change this Favour, which our Lord doth me, (and which proceeds, as I have said, from his hand, and is no way acquired by me, as being wholly Supernatural, in itself) for all those others, which I I shall here declare, afterward; I say not, for all them together, but for any one of them, being taken severally, by itself.  
And here, let it not be forgotten, how I say, that these impetuosities, or impulses, which are described here, arrived after the Favours, which our Lord did me first; as also after all that, whereof I will write in this Book; yea, & even after my entrance into the Favour, which I am enjoying at this present. And I, finding myself, in the beginnings, to be in some fear (as, in effect, it happens to me always, whensoever it pleases our Lord to do me any Favour; till at least, in the proceeding thereof, I may have received some kind of security from his Divine Majesty) he willed me, not to fear, but to esteem this Favour, for greater, than all those others were, which he had formerly been pleased to vouchsafe me; because the Soul was purified by this pain; and for that it was burnished, & refined here, as gold might be in the Chrysuble; that so it might be the more capable, to receive those enamels, and ornaments of his gifts, and graces; and that so, that was to be wiped away, which would otherwise have made work for Purgatory.  
I understood very well, even before, that this was a great Favour; but yet I remained with much more security, after this; and my Ghostly Father also tells me, that it is good. And though I were formerly afraid, yet, because I am so wicked, I could never bring myself to believe, that it was ill; but rather the very greatness itself, of the benefit, gave me a kind of fear, when I remembered, how very far I had been from deserving it. But, Blessed be our Lord, who is so good, Amen.  
It seems, that I have gone from the purpose; for I was beginning to speak of Rapts; and this, which now I have said, is a greater thing, than a Rapt; and so it leaves those effects, in the Soul, which I have related. And therefore, let us now return to speak of Rapts; and of that, which is most usual therein. I say then, that it seemed to me, many times, that it 
* The effect of Rapts.  left my whole Body so light, that all the weight thereof, was utterly gone; yea and sometimes, to such a kind of proportion, as, in effect, I knew not, how to set, so much as my feet, upon the ground; though yet, when the Soul is in Rapt, the Body remains apart, as if it were utterly dead, being able, many times, to do absolutely nothing at all, of itself; but as it chances to be, at the time, so it remains, whether it be sitting, or no; or whether it have the hands, either open, or closed. For, though she lose her senses, some few times, (and the same hath also happened to me, now and then) yet have they seldom been totally lost; and that, but for a very short time at once. The most usual effect, is wont to be, that she finds herself, a little in disorder; and though she can do nothing of herself, forasmuch as may concern the ministry of the exterior part, yet leaves she not to understand, yea and also to hear, as if a thing were spoken to her, from far off. I say not, that she either understands, or hears, when she is in the highest part of the Rapt (I say, in the very highest) at those times, when the Faculties, or Powers, are lost; because then, they are very straightly united to Almighty God; and then, in my opinion, she neither sees, nor hears. But (as I was saying, in the former Prayer of Union) this total transforming of the Soul into God, is wont to continue little; yet, for the time it lasts, no Power of the Soul, either feels, or doth so much as know, what passes there. And this, seems to be, after this manner; to the end, that men may understand, that it is not God's will, that we should know it; and belike, we are not capable thereof; at least, it hath passed thus, with me.  
But now your Reverence will peradventure ask me, how then it can come to pass, that a Rapt should be able to last so many hours. To which I answer, that the thing, which hath often occurred to me, is this; That (as I have declared already, in the former Prayer) we enjoy Rapts, by certain intervals, and interruptions. For, the Soul doth, many times, ingulfe itself; or rather (to speak both more properly, and more truly) our Lord ingulfs the Soul into him, and entertains her so, a while; and then there remains that only Faculty of hers, which is the Will. Now, me thinks, that business, and bustle, of the other two Faculties, and Powers, is like those 
* This Saint it admirable, in her Comparisons.  little Needles of Sunne-dyals', which usually do never stand still; but yet, when the Sun of justice hath a mind to it, he makes them stable, and firm; now this, I say, lasts but a very little while. But yet, since the impulse, and impetuosity was great, and the exaltation of the Spirit, high, the Will remains ingulfed, and behaves itself like a Sovereign Lady, over all those operations, which concern the Body; though those other Faculties, and Powers of the Mind, be in agitation, and disorder. And so also, since those other two said unquiet, and disorderly Powers, have a mind to disturb, and distract the Will, (for, of enemies, the fewer, ever the better) the Senses are not suffered to divert it. And so it grows from hence, that they are also suspended; because our Blessed Lord, is so pleased; and, for the most part, the eyes are shut, though yet we had no intention, to shut them; and though, by accident, they may be open sometimes, yet (as I said before) she doth not fix, or aim, or consider, at least, at all, what she sees.  
But now, the Body, here, is much less able to do any thing with itself, in order to that time, when the said Powers shall return to be united; for then, there will not be much, for it, to do. And therefore, let him, to whom our Lord shall vouchsafe this Favour, not be discomforted at all, if then, he chance to find, both the Body, to be, as it were, bound up, many hours; yea and even his very Understanding, and Memory, to be diverted sometimes.  
True it is, that Souls be ordinarily, in this case, even drenched, yea and, as it were, drowned, in the praises of Almighty God; and in desiring also, to comprehend, and understand that, which hath passed with themselves; and yet, even for this purpose, they use not to be very well awake, but rather like some one, who hath slept, and dreamt, and is not yet, come very well again, to himself. I declare my thoughts so largely heerin; because I know, there are persons, at this time, yea & even in this very place, to whom our Lord doth these Favours; and yet, if they, who direct them, have wanted the experience of these things, perhaps they will conceive, that they are to be, as it were, dead, in these Rapts; especially, if these Directours be not learned men. And it is matter, both of pity, and grief, to consider, how much is suffered, by means of such Ghostly Fathers, as do not understand this business; which I will declare afterward. Perhaps I know not well, what I say; but your Reverence will easily understand, if I hit any thing right, since our Lord hath already given you experience therein; though yet, because it is not long, since you began, you will not, peradventure, have considered it, so much as I  
But now, though I endeavoured 
* Other great effects of true Rapts.  much, and many times; yet the Body hath not strength, wherewith to stir itself, but the Soul carries it all, along with her. The person, who was sick, doth thus recover health, many times; and she, who was full of weakness, and pain, recovers strength. For, they be great things, which are bestowed in these cases; and sometimes our Lord is pleased (as I was saying) that the Body should also feel his part of joy, since already it yields obedience to that, which the Soul desires. When once she is returned into herself, it will happen to her (if the Rapt have been great) to go a day, or two, yea and sometimes three, with the Powers, so absorbed, and, as it were, stupifyed, that they seem not to be, altogether themselves. But now, here comes-in the pain, to be able to know again, how to live; here, are our feathers imped; and here, are the sick ones fall'n off; and here, is the Banner of Christ our Lord, so directly raised-up, and displayed, that now, there seems to remain no more, but that the Captain of this Fort, may either get up himself, or else may instantly, be carried-up to the highest Tower, there, to plant the said Standard, for the glory of Almighty God. She looks now upon them, who are below, as one, who is already in safety; for now, she is so far from fearing dangers, that she rather wishes for them; as a person, to whom, in some sort, a security, for obtaining victory, is designed. She sees now, very clearly, the little, that all worldly things ought to be esteemed; or rather, the direct Nothing, which all things are. They, who are seated very high, are able to discover very much. Already, she renounces the having of any Will; and is resolved, to have no other, then that, which is the Will of our Lord; and she gives him also the keys of hers. So that now, she, who was the Gardener, is grown to be the Governor of the House; nor will she do any thing at all, but according to the will of the Lord thereof; nor will she be Lady, so much as of herself; no, nor of any thing; nor even of any single Well of that Garden. And, if there be any thing in her, which is good, she desires, that his Divine Majesty may dispose thereof; for, she will not, from that time forward, possess any kind of thing, whereof the propriety may be her own; but covets, that all things may be entirely done, in conformity to the will of our Blessed Lord, and for his glory.  
Now really, and with effect, all these things are wont to pass in this manner, if the Rapts be true; and the Soul is vested, with those advantages, and benefits, which are related; and, if these do not follow, I should be apt to doubt, very much, that they were not Rapts, on the part of God; but should rather be inclined to fear, that they were of that kind of Rave, whereof S. Vincent speaks.  
At least, this is what I understand; and I have seen, by experience itself, that the Soul is wont, in these cases, to become a Lady, and Queen, over all Creatures; and to acquire so much Liberty of Spirit, in less than an hour, that she cannot even know herself; but yet, she well understands, that all this, is none of her own; nor doth she know, how she could come to obtain so great a blessing; but yet still, she understands withal, the extreme great benefit, and advantage, which every one of these Rapts bring upon her. There is no Creature, who can credit all this, but such an one, as hath learned it, by experience; and therefore men believe not the poor Soul, which they have seen to be wicked, and now find, so very soon, to pretend to do certain things, of so high importance; for instantly she resolves, not to be content to serve our Lord in small matters, but in the very greatest she can. Now the world is apt to conceive, that such endeavours are but impertinencies, and temptations; and yet, if men would but understand, and consider, that they are not things, which grow from themselves, but from our Blessed Lord, to whom they had already delivered-up the keys of their Will, they would not so much wonder at it. For my part, I am of opinion, that a Soul, which comes once to this state, doth already neither do, nor even say any thing, of herself, but that this Sovereign King hath care of all that, which is to occur.  
O my dear God and how clearly doth a Soul see here, the sense, and signification of that Verse; and how it is to be understood, that both he had reason, and that all the world should also have it, to desire the wings of a Dove. For it is easily, and clearly to be understood, of that Flight, which the Spirit makes, whereby to raise itself, above all Creatures; and, in the first place, from, and above herself. But this is a sweet Flight; a gustful, and pleasant Flight; and a Flight without noise. What kind of dominion doth such a Soul possess, which our Lord doth once conduct to this pitch, that she may be able to look down, upon all things, without being once entangled by any of them? and how full of confusion will she be, for that time, wherein she was entangled before? And how much will she be amazed, to looke-back upon that blindness of hers? How full, will she be of compassion, for such, as do yet remain therein? especially, if they be persons of Prayer, and such, as it pleases God to regale. She will here, be glad, to cry out very loud, that so she may make men understand, how mightily they are abused, and deceived; yea and so, she also doth, sometimes. And then, men are apt to rain down, even whole showers of persecutions, upon her head; and they treat her, as one, who wants Humility, and who employs herself, to teach those persons, of whom she might do well, to learn; and especially, if she be a woman; for then, come they in, to condemn her; yea and perhaps they may have reason; because they know not, by what impulse she is moved. But yet, as she knows not, how to help herself, on the one side; so also can she not forbear, on the other, to unbeguile those persons, whom she loves, & whom she desires to see unfettered, from the Prison of this life; for, that state, wherein she was, neither seems less, nor is less, than a Prison. She is also much afflicted, and tired out, with the thought of that time, wherein she took any care of points of Honour; and for the gross, false error, wherein she was, to have believed that, to be Honour, which the world calls Honour; for she sees, that it was an abominable lie; and yet, that ever ie body lives in practice of that false Doctrine. But now, this Soul understands, and knows, That, right Honour, is not false, but true; esteeming that, to be worth somewhat, which indeed is so; and holding that, which indeed is nothing, in no account at all; since all is nothing, and less than nothing, which once comes to have an end; and, in the mean time, doth not please Almighty God.  
She despises also, and laughs at herself, for the time, wherein she made any account of Money, and of the covetous desires thereof; though yet, in this particular, I do not believe (and certainly, it is very true) that I ever had any fault, to confess; but it will have been fault enough, to have held them, in any manner of account. If, with them, I had been able to buy these blessings, which now I find in myself, I might have esteemed them very much. But now, the Soul perceives, that this blessing is gotten best, by leaving all things. But what, in fine, is that, which can be bought with this Money, which we so much desire? Is it any thing of true worth? Is it any thing, which is durable? Or to what end, do we desire it? A miserable kind of supply, and repose, do we procure, by that, which costs us so dear; for we often go with it to Hell; and we buy no other thing, by means thereof, then endless torment, in everlasting fire. O that all men would, at length, resolve, to hold it but for earth, which is good for nothing? How orderly would the world then proceed? How free would all places be, from unjust contracts? & how sincerely would all men perform acts of friendship, if once there reigned no interest, either of Honour, or money, in the minds of men? For my part, I conceive, that the world, would be reduced, to good order.  
This Soul sees also then, that there is a great blindness, in the conceit, which men frame, about the delights of this world; and how we buy nothing, by their means, even for this very life, which we lead here, but affliction, and disquiet. How great disquiet, and how little contentment? and, in fine, what a deal of labouring in vain? And here, is the Soul able to discern, not only gross Cobwebs, and great faults, but even any poor grain of dust, how little soever, it may be; and so, how much soever she may have laboured, to perfect herself, if once the Sun shine bright, and if the same Sun strike it through, with those beams, in good earnest, she will find it to be dusty enough. It is like a Glass, full of water, which you will hold to be very clear, and pure, unless the Sun shine upon it; but if you see it once fall'n upon, by those beams, you will find it to be all, full of moats. This Comparison is very literally true; for, before the Soul is in this Extasis, she conceives herself, to have been very careful, not to offend Almighty God; & that she performed it according to the uttermost of her power; but yet being come once so far, as that this Sun of justice shines upon her, which makes her open her eyes, she than sees so many moats therein, that she would be glad, if she could tell how, to shut them again; for she is not yet, become so true an Eaglet, of this swift, and strong Eagle, which bred her, as that she can be able to look earnestly upon this Sun. But, how little soever she chance to hold them open, she sees herself all impure; and calls that Verse to mind, which saith: Who shall ever be just, in thy presence? When once she beholds this Divine Sun, her sight is dazzled, by the brightness of it; but when she looks in, upon herself, her eyes are stopped up, with clay; and so this poor Dove, is blind; yea, and it happens many times, that she also remains blind, for good, and all; as being absorbed, amazed, and, as it were, out of her wits, with so many mighty greatnesses, as she is then, grown to see. Heer, finally, is true Humility acquired; not caring, any way at all, either to speak well of herself, or yet, that others should do it. And our Lord divides, and disposes of the Fruit of this Garden; not she; and so, there sticks nothing of it, to her fingers. All the good, which she hath, goes on, as still addressed to Almighty God; and if she be drawn to say any thing of herself, it is also directed to his glory; for she knows, that she hath no interest therein; and cannot be ignorant thereof, even though she would; as discerning it, by the very sight of her eyes, which are shut towards the things of this world, but which are still kept open, for the understanding of Truths, almost whether she will, or no.   

THE ONE AND TWENTIETH CHAPTER.  
She prosecutes, and finishes, this last Degree of Prayer. She declares, what the Soul finds therein, when she returns to live again, in the world; and the Light also, which our Lord gives, concerning the deceits, and errors of the same world. This Chapter delivers excellent Doctrine.  
I Will therefore now finish that, which I was saying; That, namely, there is here no more now any need, that the Soul should give any new consent, since already she hath given it all; and knows, that she hath voluntarily, delivered herself wholly up, into his hands; and that she cannot deceive him, who is the knower of all things; for it is not, as things pass here, in this world, where all this life of ours, is full of nothing, but duplicities, and deceits; and, when you think you have fully gotten the good will of any Creature, by the show he makes, you quickly come to understand, that all, is tricks, and lies; and that no body can tell, how to live in a world of so much odd business; especially, if there be any little interest of the Parties. But blessed is that Soul, which our Lord comes once to draw to the knowledge of such things, as are real Truths. O what a condition, and fortune were this, for Kings! and how much would it import them, more, to gain this great advantage, then to get large Dominions, and States? What rectitude would there be found, in the Kingdom? How many mischiefs, would have been forborn already, & would also be forborn hereafter? For here, there is no fear of losing life, or honour, for the love of Almighty God; but rather such losses as these, would go for a great blessing, amongst such, as find thenfelues carry another manner of respect, to the honour of our Lord, then to all them, to whom they are less obliged. For, Kings are the men, whom those others follow; and, in this case, these Kings, would lose a thousand Kingdoms; and they would have great reason, to be glad to do so, rather then to lose the means, of making one step further, towards the augmentation of the Holy Catholic Faith, or the procuting some light, for Heretics; for, it is another manner of business, to purchase, and get such a kind of Kingdom, as will never end. And what Soul soever, shall come to taste but one single drop of this water, all the rest of this whole world, will be but fit, even to turn the stomach.  
But now, if the Soul of such a person, should fall out, to be once ingulfed into this water; what strange effects, would it produce? Dear Lord, if thou shouldst draw me, to such a condition, as that I might be able to publish this truth, with a loud voice, they would yet believe me, no more, than they do others, who know, how to publish the same, after a much better manner. But yet, at least, I should give satisfaction to myself; and, me thinks, I should esteem, even my very life, but at a little rate, upon condition, that I might be able to give but some one, of these single Truths, to be well understood. And yet I know not, what I should be able to do with myself, afterward; for there is no trust at all, to be had in me, I being that miserable creature, which I am. Yet still I have so great impulses, to utter, and declare these things, to such as be in authority, and command, that, me thinks, they do even annihilate, and consume me.  
And yet now, since I can do no more, I return, O my Lord, towards thee, to seek remedy, for all inconveniences; for thou, O my Lord, knowest well, how highly glad, I would be, to dispossess myself, even of all these very Favours, which, of thy goodness, thou hast vouchsafed to do me (provided always, that I might still remain, in condition, never to offend thee more) and to resign them up, to 
* Her great zeal for the conversion of Kings.  Kings, and Princes; for then, it is very certain, that it would be wholly impossible for them, either to permit, that those things should be done, which are permitted; or yet, that they should fail, to receive extraordinary blessings, at thy hand. O make them, my God, understand, to how much they are obliged, since thou wert pleased (by what I have heard) to honour them, in such sort, upon earth, as that, when thou takest any of them away, there is some kind of 
* She alludes to Comets, and blazing Stars.  signification thereof, even in the Heavens. And, when I think of this, it breeds a kind of devotion in me, that thou, O my King, mayst be pleased to make them, even hereby, understand, that they ought to imitate thee, in their life; since there grow, in some sort, to be certain appearances, and signs, in Heaven, at their death; as there was, when even thyself camest to die. I see well, that I am presuming very far; but I beseech your Reverence, tear it, if you mislike it, and believe, that I would be glad, to speak it better, if I were present with them; and if I could tell, how; and especially, if I thought, that they would believe me; for I recommend them, very much, to Almighty God; and I wish, that it might do them good. When a body resolves to venture his life, he may, in effect, do what he lists; and I desire very often, to lose mine; for, that were to venture little, for the gaining of much. But now, one may think, that there is scarce any Creature in the world, who indeed lives; considering how grossly visible, that great deceit, and error, is, which we carry about us; and with what blindness, we converse, in this world.  
But, when once the Soul comes to the pass, of this Water, they are not bare desires, which she carries, for the service of Almighty God; for then, his Divine Majesty gives her strength also, to put them in execution. Nor can there any such thing be once represented to her, wherein she may think to serve him, upon which she will not cast herself, all at once; and yet she will think, all the while, that she is doing nothing; for now she sees very clearly, that all things are merely nothing, which concern not the giving gust to Almighty God. The only trouble, in this case, is, that there is nothing indeed, deserving truly the name of trouble, which will offer itself, to any such person, as is so very unprofitable, as I am. But be thou, O my eternal Good, so well pleased, as that once, some such little moment of time may occur, as wherein, I may be able to pay the least imaginable crumb, of all that great service, which I owe thee. Ordain thou things, O my Lord, in what sort thou wilt; so that yet, this poor creature of thine, may once be able to pay thee some little service. There have been other manner of women; in the world, who have done heroical things, for love of thee; but I am good for nothing, but to prate; and so it is not thy pleasure, O my Lord, to employ me, about putting any thing in execution; but that all the service, which I am to do thee, must pass away in words, and desires; yea and even I have not liberty in this little; and peradventure I should be faulty, in all. But strengthen thou my Soul, and dispose of it first, O thou, the Good of all Goods, my dear jesus; and then ordain things in such sort, as that I may once, be able to do somewhat for thee; and that there may be no such Creature in the world, as should endure to receive so much; and yet withal, to pay nothing. Let it cost, O my Lord, what it can; but let not these hands of mine, appear always so very empty in thy presence, since Rewards are to be set-out, and given, according to the Works. Behold, here is my Life, here is my Honour, and here is my Will; and thou knowest, that I have given it all, to thee; and am entirely thine; and therefore, dispose of me, according to thine own good pleasure. I see, O my Lord, very well, how little I am able to execute; but yet being now come to thee, and having mounted-up to this Tower, from which, Truths are truly discovered, if thou depart not from me, there is nothing, which I shall not be able to perform; and yet, if thou depart, how little soever that may be, I am to go, where I was; which is, into a kind of being in Hell.  
O what it is, for a Soul, which finds herself, in such condition, as this, to be put to return again, to converse in the world; and to behold, and see, the Antic, and fantastical Puppet-plays of this life, which are so ridiculously ordered; and to spend time, in complying with this Body of ours, both by sleeping, and eating; for, all this, wearies the Soul, which knows not, how to scape from thence, but finds itself to be surprised, and enchained. It than sees, much more evidently, the true captivity, wherein we remain, by the very condition of these Bodies of ours, and by the misery of these lives, which we lead; and then, we come to know, very well, the much reason, which S. Paul had, to beseech Almighty God, to deliver him from it; wherein, he cryes-out aloud, and begs liberty, of his Divine Majesty; as I have formerly said. But now, this is often done, with so very great impulse of mind, that the Soul would even fain get out of the Body, in pursuit of this liberty; and, in the mean time, since she cannot be freed, she 
* A rare expression.  walks up, and down the world, like one, who were sold for some Slave, to serve, and play the Drudge, in a strange Country. And that, which afflicts her yet more, is, that she knows not, how to meet with many, who will be so well disposed, as to lament with her, and to desire that, which she desires; for they ordinarily, desire but to live. O that once we might be untied from all things! and that we might not place our contentment, in any thing of this world! How would then, that pain, which we should find to be living always without God, appease, and temper the fear of death, through the desire, which, by this means, we should have, of attaining to the fruition of eternal life.  
Sometimes, when I am considering, how such a Creature, as I, to whom our Lord hath given this light, with such an imperfect kind of charity, as I possess, and with so poor repose, as I enjoy, (since my life hath deserved no better) can yet so often find myself in distress, for being in this banishment of mine. I may easily grow to imagine, what kind of sense, and feeling, that would be, which Saints have had in this case; and what kind of commotion, a S. Paul, and a S. Marie Magdalen, and such others, like them, would find in themselves, in whom the fire of the Love of Almighty God, did reign. It must certainly have been, a continual Martyrdom to them. To me it seems, that all the ease, or rather indeed, absence of pain, which I might be able to find in this world, were, but to treat with some such persons, as in whom I might be able to meet with such desires, as these; I say, desires, with deeds; and I say yet again, with deeds. For, there are certain people in the world, who, if you will believe themselves, are absolutely untied from the world, & so they publish, that they are; and so indeed, it is very fit, they were; because even their very profession, and condition, requires as much; and so also do those many years, since they began to enter into the way of Perfection. But yet, this Soul of mine, knows well, how to find a difference, even from far off, between such, as desire these things, but in words; and such others, as confirm their words, by their works. For she knows, how to understand, very well, the little good, which these do in the world, and the much, which is done by those others; and indeed, this is such a kind of thing, as whosoever is of experience, may very easily discern.  
And now I have set down the Effects, which those Rapts, that proceed from the Spirit of Almighty God, are wont to produce. It is true, that some of them, do it more; and some, less; I say less; because, though in the beginnings they work, yet then, the Effects are not seen experimentally, by way of outward expression; nor can it be yet, so well perceived, that they have them; and besides, the perfection thereof, goes increasing; and the Soul goes procuring, that there may now, be no memory of imperfections; which will appear if there be any, like so many Cobwebs; and this now requires some time. And by how much the more, Humility, and the Love of our Lord, increases in the Soul: so much the more sweet, and fresh odour, will these Flowers of virtue, be sure to give, both to themselves, and others. And it is most certainly true, that our Lord knows, how to work so well, upon any Soul, in one of these Rapts, that there will not much remain, for the Soul herself, to work, and labour in, towards the acquiring of perfection. For, no Creature is able to believe, without direct experience upon himself, how much it pleases our Lord, to bestow upon a Soul, in such an occasion, as this; nor is there any kind of diligence of ours, which can, in my opinion, attain it. I say not, but that, by the Favour of our Lord, such as employ themselves many years, by those ways, which they prescribe, who write of Prayer, both concerning the beginning, and proceeding thereof, may arrive to perfection, and to a total untying, and loosening themselves, from the things of this world, with much labour, and pains, but never in so short a time; whereas here, our Lord is pleased to work it, & that presently, without any labour of ours. And he expressly, & clearly, draws the Soul from the earth, and whatsoever is earthly; and he gives her an absolute dominion over all things, which are therein; though yet there be not, in this Soul, any more true value, or merit, than there was, even in mine. Nor do I know, how to exaggerate this point more; for in mine, there was, in effect, none at all. If now it chance to be asked, why his Divine Majesty doth it, there is no other answer, but because he is pleased to do it; and he doth it also just so, as he is pleased; and though sometimes there be no disposition in her at all, to receive it, he yet disposes also the same, to receive that benefit, and blessing, which his Divine Majesty is pleased to impart. So that he gives it not always, because the Gardener hath deserved it, by dressing up, and cultivating his Garden well, (though yet it be very certain, that whosoever doth this, as he ought, and doth procure, withal, to untie his whole affection from things of this world, will never fail to be regaled by him) but sometimes, because it is his pleasure (as I have said) to show his power, and greatness, even upon the most barren Soil; and to prepare it, for the receiving all kind of good. So that now, she seems not, in some sort, to have so much as a Power, to return to live in offence of Almighty God, as she was wont; but she hath her thoughts so habituated to understand what is Truth indeed, that all the rest, seems but a foolery, and fit to make sport for children. She smiles also in herself sometimes, when she finds certain grave persons, who live in the exercise of Prayer, and Religion, make account of certain foolish points of Honour, which such a Soul, as this, holds now to be directly, under her feet. Some will say, that this is but discretion, and a preserving, forsooth, of their dignity, and rank; that so, afterward, they may be able, to do the more good. But, that other Soul, understands very well, that they might have done Almighty God more service, in one day, if they would have made their authority, and honour yield, and shrink, for the love of Almighty God, than they would ever do, in ten years, by upholding, and authorising the same, after their way. But thus doth this kind of Soul lead a certain troublesome life, and is ever subject to the Cross; though yet ever going on, with increase. And though the persons, who use to treat with her, conceive her sometimes, to be even already, at the very very top of Perfection, yet do they find, shortly after, that still she grows to be more improved; for, our Lord goes ever favouring her, more and more. God himself, is, in effect, her Soul; and it is he, who hath already taken the charge of her, into his hands; and he shines even brightly, in her; and seems to be assisting her, after a kind of evident manner; both that she may not offend him, and by continually also favouring, and stirring her still up, to serve him.  
When once my Soul arrived so far, as that Almighty God might be pleased to do her this great Favour, my miseries, and Sins, did cease, even all at once, and our Lord gave me strength, to quit them; and it moved me no more, to be afterward in those occasions of imperfection; and with persons, who had formerly been wont to to bring distractions upon me, then if I had not been there, at all; nay rather that, which was wont to damnifve me, grew to assist me now; and all things were now, fit means, to make me know God more, and to love him better; and to see, how deeply I was obliged to him; and to make me, in fine, very sorry, for what I had been.  
But yet I well understood withal, that this came no way from me; nor had I grown to gain it, by any diligence of mine own; nor indeed, had I even had time for it; but only his Divine Majesty, through the mere, and only motive of his own goodness, had given me strength, for this purpose. From the time, when our Lord was pleased to afford me the Favour of these Rapts, this strength hath gone on, with increase; and he hath also held me so fast, with his hand, that I might not return back again, any more. And now, me thinks, that it is nothing at all, which I do on my part; but I understand, in a very evident manner, that our Lord is he, who works; and therefore I am apt to be of opinion, that the person, to whom our Lord doth show these Favours (supposing ever, that, with all humility, and fear, he will understand, and acknowledge, that it is our Lord himself, who doth them, and that, in effect, we do nothing at all in the business) may put himself into any company; and that, how distracted, and vicious soever it be, it will not move, or even concern him, but that rather, it will be of help to him, and minister him some occasion, or other, whereby he may reap more advantage, for his own good.  
For, these are already made strong Souls, which our Lord is pleased to choose, for the helping of others; though yet still, it must be considered, that this strength proceeds not from themselves. But when once our Blessed Lord brings a Soul so near himself, as I have showed, he goes, by little and little, communicating very great secrets to her. And here, come the true Revelations, in this kind of Extasis; and other great Favours, and Visions. And all these things serve to make this Soul, both more humble, and more strong; and to give her grace, to hold all kind of worldly things, in no account; as also to know more clearly, the greatness of that reward, which our Blessed Lord hath provided for such, as serve him. I humbly befeech his Divine Majesty, that the excessive bounty, which he hath vouchsafed to show, towards this miserable, sinful Creature, may prove some part of a motive, to make them, who shall read this Discourse, encourage, and animate themselves, to leave all things, yea even absolutely all, for Almighty God, since his Divine Majesty is pleased to give so complete rewards. For we see, and that clearly enough, what advantages, and Favours, and retributions, he is pleased to allow, even in this life, to such as serve him; and what then will he be sure to do for them, in the next?   

THE TWO AND TWENTIETH CHAPTER.  
In which she treats, of how secure a way it is, for persons, who give themselves to Contemplation, not to raiseup their Spirit, to high things, unless our Lord raise them up; and that the Humanity of Christ our Lord, is in deed, to be the means, towards the highest Contemplation of all others. She speaks also of an error, wherein once she was. This Chapter contains matter of much profit.  
I Will here declare a certain thing, which is, in my opinion, very important; and, if your Reverence think fit, it may serve you, for a word of advice; yea and perhaps, you may grow even to have need thereof. I have read in some Books, written of Prayer, which affirm, that, how soever the Soul is not able, of itself, to arrive to that State, whereof I spoke before, (because all that, is Supernatural, which our Lord works there) yet she may be able, forsooth, to help herself therein, by raising-up her Spirit above all things created; and that so, she having raised it up, many years together, with humility, and having first passed through the Purgative way, and after that, through the Illuminative, they advice, in particular manner, that men should separate, and abstract themselves, from all kind of imagination or reflection, upon corporeal things; and that so, they should be able to approach, and reach, the contemplation of the Divinity. For they say, that, although it be even the very Humanity itself, of Christ our Lord, yet is it of some impediment, to such, as proceed thus far; yea and that it hinders men, from the most perfect kind of Contemplation.  
For the making this Opinion 
* Anopinion, which is more probable, then true.  good, they allege that, which our Lord said to his Apostles, when himself was ascending-up to Heaven, of the coming of the holy-ghost down upon them, which would not be accomplished, till himself were retired out of their sight. But, for my part, I am apt to conceive, that if they had then, had that Livelie Faith, of our Lord's being both God, and Man, (which they had, after the coming of the Holy Ghost) his Corporal Presence would have done them no hurt at all. For he held no such discourse to his Blessed Mother, though she loved him much more, than they all. But these men use to allege this passage, or place of Scripture; because it seems to them (in regard, that all this action of Prayer, is a work of Spirit) that every Corporeal Object, will be able to divert, and hinder it; and that, forsooth, they must consider themselves, after a manner, which is totally independent upon Creatures; and that God is alike near them, on all sides; and so, to see themselves ingulfed in him, is the thing, which they should endeavour to obtain.  
Now, this doth not displease me, to be used, at sometimes, and in some cases; but yet, to denied ourselves wholly, from the person of Christ our Lord, and to bring that Divine Body of his, into the account, and company of these miseries of ours, or even with all the rest of the whole created world, I can by no means endure; and I humbly beg of his Divine Majesty, that I may be able to give myself to be understood.  
I will not yet, put myself to contradict them, because they are learned men, and spiritual persons; who fail not to know well, what they say; and it is also very true, that it pleases Almighty God, to carry, and conduct Souls, by several walks, and ways, as he did mine. And now, I will declare some particulars thereof; for, in the rest, I will not interpose myself, but only speak of the danger, wherein I found I was, because I conformed myself, to what I had read. I well believe, that whosoever shall find himself to have arrived to the State of Union, and not to have passed further on, so far as to have Rapts, and Visions, together with such other Favours, as our Lord is wont to impart to Souls, may hold that, which is spoken of, to be better; as I also did. But yet, if I had continued therein, I believe, I should never have arrived to that pitch, wherein now I am. For, in my opinion, it is an error, 
* This seems to have been a foolish, and ill-favoured kind of error in those others.  and deceit; though yet perhaps, it may be myself, who am the person deceived; & yet I will relate, what happened to me. Whilst I was in want of a Director, and the while, went reading the Books aforesaid, whereby I thought I grew to understand somewhat; by little, and little, I came, indeed, to find afterward, that, if our Lord had not been my teacher, I should have learned very little, by those Books; For, really, it was nothing, which I understood, till his Divine Majesty was pleased to make me know it, by experience; nor indeed, did I know, what I did. But, when afterward I came so far, as to have some kind of Prayer, which was Supernatural (I mean, the Prayer of Quiet) I procured to dismiss myself of all kind of Corporeal Objects; though yet, I durst not go raising, and exalting my Soul. For, considering that I was always so very wicked, I saw, that this was to be a great presumption, in me. But then I came to think, that I felt a kind of Presence of Almighty God, in me, after a particular manner, as indeed I did; and I procured, to recollect myself, with him. And this is a very savoury, and gustful kind of Prayer, if our Lord assist a Soul particularly therein; and the delight of it, is great; and when both the profit, and pleasure, which it gives, is once observed by the Soul, there could be then, no means, to make me return again, to the Humanity of Christ our Lord; because, in reality of truth, I conceived, that it was an impediment to me.  
Othou Lord of my Soul, and my Good! thou, Christ our Lord, who wert crucified; I never call to mind the opinion, which I entertained in this case, but I am afflicted by it. For I conceive myself, to have committed a huge Treason therein, against thee; (though yet my ignorance may peradventure have been some excuse) I having been so particularly devoted, to the person of Christ our Lord, throughout the whole course of my life; for, this other proceeding of mine, occurred in the very latter part thereof; I say, in the very latter part, immediately before our Blessed Lord vouchsafed me those Favours, of Rapts, and Visions.  
I continued a very little while, in this opinion; and so I ever came quickly back, to delight myself, with this dear Lord of mine; and especially, when I received the Blessed Sacrament, I ever desired to have some Picture of him, in mine eye, since I was not able to carry him so deeply engraven, or stamped upon my Soul, as I could have wished. But is it possible, O my dear Lord, that ever any such thought, as this, should be able to get in, to my hart, even for one single hour, as that thou wert to have been able to hinder my obtaining my greatest Good? Alas, from whence came all the Benedictions, and benefits, which ever I received, but only from thee? But I will not so much as think, that really I was faulty heerin; but rather I am to pity myself for that, which certainly proceeded from ignorance in me. And so, thou didst vouchsafe, through thy goodness, to redress, and assist me, by helping me to one afterward, who might deliver me out of this error; and besides, also, by making me able to see thee so often, 
* That was, by several Visions.  as I shall declare hereafter; that so I might the more clearly understand, how great that ignorance of mine, was; and finally, to the end, that I might publish the same, to many, as I have done already; and that now, I might also record it here.  
For my part, I conceive, that the reason, why many Souls get not forward, in the way of Profit, and why they reach not to obtain some very great liberty of Spirit, when they arrive to use Prayer of Union, is this very thing. And I conceive, that there are two reasons, upon which, I may well ground this opinion; and though perhaps, that be of no moment, which I am going to utter, yet I will not forbear to do it; because I have found by experience, that it went very ill with my Soul, till it pleased our Blessed Lord, to give me light. For, all those joys, which she took, came to me, but by sups, and gulps; and when once I was past the present occasion, I found not myself, to have such company, and strength, for the enduring of tribulations, and temptations, as yet I met with, afterward. But one of these reasons, why men get not forward, is, that there may peradventure go a dram of some certain little want of Humility, which lies hidden, and plastered over, in such sort, that even the person, who is so faulty, may, perhaps, not so very easily, find it. And who now, will ever be so proud, and wretched, as I; yea and that, when he should have laboured, throughout the whole course of his life, and made as many Prayers, and suffered as many Pennances, and endured as many Persecutions, as might be imagined, would not yet find himself rich enough, and abundantly rewarded, and paid for them all, when our Lord should give him leave, to remain at the foot of the Cross, with S. john? Nay I know not, into what brain it would sink, but mine, not to be content, with such a felicity, as this; who was ever a loser so many ways, in all those things, whereby I ought to have been a gainer.  
But now, though our miserable frail condition, or else, perhaps, our sickness, should not permit us, to be always reflecting upon the Passion of our Blessed Lord; yet at least, what should hinder us from remaining with him, now, that he is risen again, to Glory; since we have him so near us, in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar, where we see him glorified now? Nor need we behold him there, so distressed; and so afflicted; so torn in pieces; so overflowing with blood; so wearied in those rugged Highways; so persecuted by those, whom he benefited so highly; and the while, not so much, as to be believed in, by his very Apostles. For, it is most certainly true, that one hath not always the hart, to be even able, to reflect upon so excessive afflictions, as he felt. But now here, we have him without pain, and full of glory, giving strength of body to some, and courage of mind to others, before he ascended up to Heaven.  
He makes himself even our Companion, in the Blessed Sacrament; yea and seems, as if it had not been in his power, to depart any one moment from us; and that now it should yet have been in mine, to part from thee, O my Lord! yea and this, that I might serve thee, so much the better. 
* A sweet, and just complaint, and worthy of the Saint who made it.  Let it pass, my dear Lord, if it please thee, that when I sinned against thee, I did not know thee; but that now, when I come to know thee, I should fancy a means to myself, of growing a greater gainer by this way! O what an ill way was that? and now I find, that indeed I had utterly lost my way, if thou, O Lord, hadst not restored me to it; for, in seeing, that thou art near me, I have seen, that I have all good things, with thee. Nor do I ever meet with any affliction, or trouble, but as soon as I consider, in what kind of miserable posture thou wert carried, and placed, before those judges, it grows instantly, to be very easily borne. With the presence of so dear a Friend, and under the conduct of so good a Captain, as was pleased to put himself in the foremost rank, that so he might suffer most, and first, there is nothing, which may not well, be endured. He assists, and gives strength, and courage; yea and never fails. He is a very fast, and true Friend; and I see clearly, and I have seen it yet again, that, to the end we may be able to content Almighty God, and that he may pour great Favours down upon us, he is pleased, that all should pass, by the hands of this most Sacred Humanity; in which, his Divine Majesty hath declared, that he was much delighted. I have seen this truth, by experience, very, very many times; besides, that our Lord himself, hath told 
* By Vision.  me so. I have also clearly seen, that we are to enter in, by this gate, if we desire, that his Sovereign Majesty should communicate great secrets to our Souls.  
So that, Sir, I wish your Reverence, not to put yourself upon any other way, than this; though you should be even upon the very highest top of Contemplation; for here, you shall find yourself safe; since this Lord of ours, is he, by whose means, we are to receive all Benedictions; and he will address your life, by your Meditation, upon his; for he is the best Original, and Pattern, which we can possibly have. And indeed, what can we desire more, then to have so perfect a Friend, at hand, who will never give us over, in our afflictions, and tribalations; as they, of this world, are wont to do? Most Blessed is that man, who loves him, with all sincerity of truth; and who is always carrying him, close, to himself.  
Let us look upon the Glorious S. Paul, who seems, as if he could not suffer, that ever the name of jesus, should be able, to fall often enough, from his mouth; as one, who did not fail, to carry it well imprinted, upon his hart. And since I understood of that other abstracted course, whereof I spoke, I have reflected upon divers great Contemplative Saints, with much care; and I find, that they went no other way, than this. S. Francis shewes it plainly, by the Wounds; S. Anthony of Milan, by the Infant; S. Bernard delighted himself much, in the Humanity of our Blessed Lord; and so also did S. Katherine of Sienna; together with many other Saints, as your Reverence knows, better, than I.  
This departing, and abstracting ones self, from all Corporeal Objects, should, as it seems, be good, since persons, who are so Spiritual, affirm it; but yet, in my opinion, this must be understood of Souls, who are very Proficient in Spirit; for, till then, it is evident enough, that the Creator is to be sought, by means of the Creatures. But yet, I will undertake nothing in this case, since all depends upon the Favour, which our Lord is pleased to show, to any Soul. That, which I would fain give to be understood, is, that the most Sacred Humanity of Christ our Lord, must not be made to come into that account; and let this point be well understood, wherein I would fain know, how to declare myself. When God is pleased to suspend all the Powers of the Soul, in those kinds of Prayer, which are related, we have seen plainly, that this Presence of Christ our Lord, is taken from us, whether we will, or no; and let it then, be gone, in a good hour; for, that kind of loss, is a happy one, whereby we come to enjoy more of that, which we conceive ourselves to have lost; for then, the Soul employs herself wholly, upon loving him, whom the Understanding hath already endeavoured to know; and she loves that, which she did not fully comprehend; and now joys in that, wherein she could not also have joyed, but only by losing herself, for her greater gain. But now, that we should, by tricks, and of sett-purpose, accustom ourselves, not to procure, with our whole power, to carry always in our eyes (and I would to God, it were always) this most Sacred Humanity of Christ our Lord; this, I say, is that, which I like not; since it is a way, of making the Soul walk in the Air, as we use to say. For it seems, that she hath no firm, and stable restingplace, howsoever she may make herself believe, that she is full of God. It is a great matter, whilst we live, and are humane, to procure, to bring God to ourselves, Humane; for, this is that other inconvenience, which I say, there is; for, the first, I began to say, was a little want of humility, in presuming to raise the Soul, before our Lord raised her, and not to content herself, with meditating upon a thing so precious, but that she will needs be a Marie, before she have taken the pains of Martha. If our Lord himself be pleased, that we be Marry, there will be nothing to be feared, though it should be, upon the very first day, of our doing him Service. But yet, let us consider well, of the matter, as I think I was saying before; for, this small moat of little humility, will make a shift to do a great deal of hurt, against profiting in the way of Contemplation.  
But, to return now to the Second point, We are no Angels, but we have Bodies; and to desire, to make ourselves Angels, whilst yet we are upon earth, (and especially if they be so earthly, as I was,) is a kind of folly, or madness. But our thoughts, in the ordinary way, have need of a kind of leaning, or restingplace; though yet sometimes, the Soul may go so out of herself, yea and many times, may be so full of Almighty God, that perhaps she hath no neęd to recollect herself, by means of any thing created. But this is not a thing so ordinary; and in businesses, and persecutions, and troubles, when she cannot enjoy so much Quiet; and in the times also of Dryness, and dulness, Christ our Lord is wont, to be a very good friend. For, we consider him, as man; and we behold him, full of weaknesses, and afflictions; and he is company, fit for all good occasions; and when once, we are a little accustomed, we shall find him very easily kept close, to us; though yet some such times will occur, as that we shall not be able to do, neither the one, nor the other.  
Upon this reason, it will be well, to do that, whereof I have spoken already; namely, not to pretend, and procure any sensible consolation of Spirit, but let any thing arrive, that will; for it is no toy, or trifle, to embrace the Cross of our Lord. This Lord of ours, was forsaken, by all manner of comfort; and they left him all alone, in his afflictions; but yet let not us do so. For he will reach us his hand, which can raise us better up, than all our own diligences, would have been able to do; and yet he will absent himself also, when he shall think fit; and when he shall think it fit, he will also draw the Soul out of itself, as I have said before. Our Lord is very well pleased, to see a Soul, with Humility, introduce his Son, for her Intercessor; and he loves her so very much, that even, when his Divine Majesty shall have an inclination to raise herup to great Contemplation, the same Soul may yet hold herself unworthy, and cry out, with S. Peter: Depart from me, O my Lord; for I am a sinful man. I have tried this very thing, by experience; and thus hath God conducted my Soul. Let others therefore go, by some other short cut, as they please; but that, which I have been able to understand, is, that all this Cement of Prayer, is grounded upon Humility; and 
* Believe and consider this most certain Truth.  that, the more the Soul is abased in that holy exercise, the more is it exalted by Almighty God. Nor do I remember, that ever he showed me any of those singular Mercies, of which I shall speak afterward; but when I found my Soul, even as it were annihilated, with observing myself, to be so very wicked. Yea and sometimes, his Divine Majesty took care to give me to understand certain things, towards the making me know myself, so much the better, which I could never have told, how to imagine.  
But I am of opinion, that when the Soul doth any thing on her part, to help herself on, as aforesaid, towards that Prayer of Union; how soever, for the present, it may seem to do good, yet the building will quickly fall, as wanting any sound foundation; and I am afraid, that she will never arrive to true Poverty of Spirit, which consists, in not desiring so much as comfort, or gust, in Prayer; (for, all those of this world, are forsaken already, except consolation in affliction; and that, for love of him, who ever lived in them) but to remain also quiet in those very afflictions, and aridities; for though they fail not, to have some little trouble thereat; yet is it not so far, as to give them any such disquiet, and pain, as some give themselves, by conceiving, that, if they be not always labouring with their Understanding, and to have sensible devotion, all is lost; as if they could deserve so great a good, by the pains they take. I say not, that they should not procure, and maintain themselves with much care, in the Presence of Almighty God; but, if yet they be not able to obtain, no not so much, as one good thought (as I have said else where) yet let them not torment themselves; because we all, are unprofitable Servants; & what can we conceive, that we shall be ever able to do? Our Lord is much better pleased, that we may come to know this truth; and that we may hold ourselves fit, to be treated, like some poor little Asses, to turn that wheel about, whereby the said Water is to be gotten; who though they be put in, blindfold, & do not so much as know, what they do, will yet get-up more water, than the Gardener, with all the diligences he can use. No, we must walk in this way, with liberty of Spirit, & put ourselves into the hands of Almighty God. If his Divine Majesty shall be pleased, to advance us, to be of his Chamber, & Council, we must go with a good will; but if not, we must be content to serve, in inferior employments, and not to seat ourselves, in the best place, as I have said else where.  
Almighty God hath more care of us, than we have of ourselves; and knows, for what, every body is fit; and for what therefore doth it serve, for him, to govern himself, when already the whole Will is disposed of, and given away, to Almighty God? In my opinion it is less to be tolerated, or endured here, then in the First Degree of Prayer; and it doth usmuch more harm, if any such error be committed by us; for, these are Supernatural blessings. If a man have an ill voice, how much soever he shall enforce himself to sing, the voice will not be made good by it; but if God shall once have made it good, he needs not be crying out, before hand. Let us therefore always humbly pray him, to show us favour; & let the Soul be wholly resigned, but yet withal, confiding in the greatness of God.  
And now, when she hath gotten leave, to remain at the feet of Christ our Lord, let her not stir from thence, but continue, in what sort soever it may be; and let her imitate the Magdalena; for when he shall find her strong, he will take her up, with him, to the Desert. So that your Reverence shall do well, to keep yourself in this way; till you meet with some other, who may have more experience, than I; and may know it better. Only, if they be persons, who were but beginning to have gust in Almighty God, do not believe them; for they conceive, that they profit themselves more, and have more gust, when they help themselves in such sort, as is declared before. O, how Almighty God comes clearly, and openly enough, in, without these little pretty helps, when he hath a mind to it? and so, as that, whether we will, or no, he elevates, and hurries-away the Spirit, even as some Giant would dispose of a straw; and so, as that no resistance can be thought of. But what a kind of impertinency is it, for a man to believe, that whensoever he lists, a Toad should be made able to fly, of itself? And I hold it to be a more difficult, and absurd kind of thing, that the Spirit should be able to raise, and exalt itself without being exalted, and raised by Almighty God; for, it is, all, loaden with earth, and with a thousand impediments; and it will prove, to be of little use, to it, that it have a mind to fly; for, though flying be more natural to a Soul, then to a Toad, yet this Soul, is already all plunged in a great bed of dutt, & mire, as having lost that other quality, by her own fault.  
I will therefore conclude with this, that whensoever we dispose ourselves, to think, and meditate upon Christ our Lord, we must remember the love, wherewith he did us so many Favours; and now greatly, Almighty God was pleased to show it to us, by giving us so high a pledge, and pawn, of his love; for, one love begets, and breeds another. And though we should he mere poor beginners, in this holy exercise; and though we should withal, be very wicked, yet let us still procure, to be looking upon this Object, and still be stirring ourselves up, to love. For, if once our Blessed Lord vouchsafe, to imprint this love into our hearts, all things will grow easy to us; and we shall quickly fall to work, and that without any trouble to ourselves, at all. I beseech his Divine Majesty, that he will vouchsafe, to bestow it upon us, since he knows, how very much the same imports us; for, we beggit, by the great love, which he bore to us, and for the sake of his Glorious Son, who also loved us all, so extremely, to his own cost, Amen.  
One 
* A doubt. which cannot easily be solued.  thing I would fain ask your Reverence, how our Lord, beginning to do Favours to a Soul, and those so eminent, and high, as to bring her to perfect Contemplation (which Soul were therefore, in all reason, to grow, and remain entirely perfect, even at that instant; for certainly, it ought to be so; since whosoever receives so very great blessings from Heaven, should be extremely far from caring for any such delights, as concern this life) can possibly bring to pass, that when she grows to have Rapts, and so to receive more Favours, & higher Effects thereof, (and that so much the more, as she falls-out to be more untied from the world; and considering yet withal, how, in the very first instant, when our Lord arrives to a Soul, he can leave her entirely sanctified) how, I say, our Lord can abandon this Soul afterward, in process of time, without maintaining it, in the perfection of virtue. This, I say, would I very fain know; for I understand it not yet; though I know well, that it is a very different case, what proportion of strength, Almighty God leaves in a Soul, when his visitation, at the first, lasts no longer, than the opening, as it were, and shutting of an eye; (for then, in effect, it is scarce felt at all, but only by the very effects, which it leaves behind it) and when, on the other side, this Favour continues, to be of much longer extent. But it occurrs to me often, to doubt, whether the cause of this, may not be, that the Soul disposes not herself entirely, for God, till his Divine Majesty bring her up, and breed her for himself, by little, and little; and so, bespeak her to resolve her self, all at once, and give her the very strength of a grown man; to the end, that she may cast all, as it were, a thousand miles off; as he instantly did with S. Marie Magdalen, and as he also doth with others, after the rate of their co-operating with him; and as they suffer his Divine majesty to dispose of them wholly, according to his own good pleasure; for else, we know not, how to believe, that, even in this life, Almighty God gives a hundred for one. I thought also of this Comparison, That, supposing the thing to be all one, which is imparted both to Beginners and Proficients, it would be like to some one only food, whereof many seed, all at once; and that they, who eat little of it, preserve no more memory, and remain with no more effect of it, then only some little savour, or smack, for a while; but they, who feed more largely, it gives them help to subsist; and they, who feed plentifully on it, receive increase of strength, and spirit, by it; yea and a Soul may feed so often, and so fully, upon this food of life, that she may come, not to endure any thing at all, which shall not taste, just like that. For she finds the very great benefit, which she receives by it; and she hath her taste already, so wholly made to that sweetness, that she had rather even leave to live, then to feed upon other things; which, were all, to serve, in fine, for nothing, but only to take away the good taste, which the former excellent food left in her mouth.  
Besides, no conversation, with holy company, is wont to be of so much use, and benefit, in one day, as in many; but we may be in it, so long, as that we may grow, to be even like them, ourselves; if our Lord will be pleased, to do us so much favour. But, to conclude, the main business consists, in what his Divine Majesty vouchsafes to do, and to whom he will be pleased, to allow it; though yet withal, it grow to import very much, that whosoever will pretend to receive this Favour, must fully resolve himself, to be absolutely dis-engaged, and untied from the whole world, yea and to esteem that Favour of our Blessed Lord, as highly, as the thing deserves.  
It also seems to me, as if his Divine Majesty, were resolving to try, who they are, that love him; Namely whether it be this Soul, or that; and that he would also discover, who himself is, by imparting so high, and sovereign a delight, to quicken, and fortify their Faith, if it should chance to be dead, or weak, in the belief of those great blessings, which he means to give her; saying: Behold, this, is but a single drop, of that huge, and vast Sea of benedictions, which I mean to give to such, as I love. And when he sees, that they receive it, as he gives it, he gives not only it, but himself with it. In fine, he loves them, who love him; And O, what a good Lover, and good Beloned, is he?  
Othou, the Lord of my Soul! O that I could find any fit words, whereby I might give to be understood, what thou bestowest upon such, as trust thee, home; and what they lose, who arrive to this condition, and yet will needs remain still, with themselves. But do not, O thou my Lord, permit this; since already thou dost more, than this, for our sakes, in coming to so base, and wicked a lodging, as this of my hart. Blessed mayst thou be, for ever, and for ever, Amen.  
And now I return, most humbly to beseech your Reverence, that, if you mean to impart these things, which I have written, concerning my Prayer, they may be very Spiritual persons to whom you do it. For if they understand no more, than some one way; or if they have remained in the half way; they will never be so well able, to hit right. Now, there are some, whom Almighty God carries instantly, by a very sublime kind of address; and they perhaps will conceive, that others, may also profit there, and may quiet, and calm the Understanding; and not serve themselves, at all, of the means of any Corporeal object; but yet, these creatures, with all this, shall come, in fine, to remain as dry, as a stick. And some, who have grown to enjoy a little Quiet, grow also to think of this fancy, that, Why, forsooth, may not they be able, to obtain, as well the one, as the other. But such as these, in stead of advancing, in the way of profiting their Souls, shall really disadvantage themselves, as I have said. So that, in all this business, there will be need, both of experience, and prudence; and I beseech our Lord, grant them to us, through his own goodness.   

THE THREE AND TWENTIETH CHAPTER.  
She returns to declare the course of her life; and how she first began to think of growing to greater perfection; and by what means, she did it. This Chapter is very profitable, for such, as are to govern Souls, in order to Prayer; and to make them know, how they are to behave themselves in their beginnings; and of the benefit, she reaped, by knowing it herself.  
I will now return to that place, where I gave over the Discourse of my Life; (for I have detained myself, perhaps, longer than I ought) to the end, that yet that, which follows, may grow to be the better understood. From hence forward, this will be another new Book; I mean, another new Life; for hitherto, it was mine; but the Life, which I have lived, since I began to declare these things of Prayer, is that, when God lived in me, (forasmuch as I could conceive) since I hold it to be impossible otherwise, for me, to have given over, both such ill actions, and conditions, in so short a time. Let our Lord be everlastingly praised, for delivering me, in such sort, from myself.  
But I beginning now, to free my Soul from the occasions of ill, and to give myself more, to Prayer, our Lord began also to do me Favours; as one, who, in all appearance, desired but that I would be content to receive them. His Divine Majesty, did therefore then, very ordinarily, give me the Prayer of Quiet; and, many times, that also, of Union, which lasted very long fits of time. But now, when I understood, that there had occurred great Illusions of certain women, and deceits, which the Devil put upon them, I began to be afraid, as considering the delight, and sweetness, which I felt, to be so very great; yea and that, many times, it was such, that I could not avoid it; though yet withal, on the other side, I saw cause of very great security, that it was God; especially when I was in Prayer; and I found also, that I was much bettered by it; and still remained with more strength of Mind towards Virtue. But yet, whensoever I grew to be a little diverted. I returned again to fear, whether the Devil might not have a mind, to make me conceive, that it were good for me, to suspend the use of my understanding, and so, deprive myself of the exercise of Mental Prayer; and that I might not be able to think upon the Passion of Christ our Lord, nor to serve myself (as I was saying) of my Understanding part, which seemed to me, a very great inconvenience. But now, when his Divine Majesty was pleased already, to give me light, to the end that I might offend him no more; and might also grow able to know, how much I owed him for this goodness, this fear came now to increase, in such sort, that it put me, upon a diligent 
* She grows now to make serious enquiry after a good Director.  search, after some persons of Spirit, with whom I might communicate my affairs; and already I had gotten notice of some. For, by this time, they, of the Society of JESUS, were come hither; to which Order (though I yet knew no one of them) I was very affectionate, upon the only reason of my understanding, what kind of life they led, and what Prayer they used. But I found not myself worthy enough, to speak with them; nor constant, and strong enough, to obey them. And this, gave me yet greater fear; for, in fine, to treat with them, and yet to continue still, what I was, represented itself to me, as an odd, and ill-favoured business. In these cogitations of mine, did I pass some time; till now, by the much battery, which I made upon myself, and through the fears, to which still I was subject, I resolved to treat with one, who was a Spiritual person; and to ask him, what kind of Prayer that was, which I used; and to desire him, to give me light, if he found me to be in error; and I resolved to use all possible diligence, not to offend Almighty God; for, the want, which I found, in myself, of courage, did continue me still, in my fears. O my dear God & how great a deceit, and error was this, in me, to separate myself from good, that so I might grow to be good. The Devil, it seems, is willing to labour much, upon this point, in the beginning of our aspiring to Virtue; for I could not, in fine, conquer myself heerin. He well knows, that the means of doing good to a Soul, consists, in that she resolve to confer, in particular manner, with such, as are the friends of Almighty God; and therefore I would never set any time, to resolve upon this. I expected to reform myself first, as I had also done before, when I left my Prayer; and perhaps I should never have gone through, with it; for I was already declined so low, towards certain little things, of ill custom, and consequence, (which yet in fine I would not conclude, to be ill) that I was in need, to be assisted, by some other, who might reach me out his hand, to raise me up. And now, Blessed be our Lord; for, in fine, his own, was the first.  
When now I saw, that my fear came-on so far, (for I proceeded, and increased in Prayer) I conceaned, that there was either some great good, or else some excessive mischief, involved in it; for already I understood, very well, that it was a Supernatural advantage, which I had; since sometimes, I was not able to resist it; and to obtain it also, when I would, could not possibly be done. Upon this, I grew to resolve, that there would be no remedy for me, if I 
* The only excellent course.  procured nor, to have great purity of Conscience, and if I quitted not all occasions of ill; though it were but of Venial Sins. For, if my exercise of Prayer, were of the Spirit of Almighty God, the benefit did very evidently appear; & if it were of the Devil, yet he could do me no hurt at all, but rather would be put to sit down with loss, if I should procure to please Almighty God, and not offend him at all. And now, having resolved upon this, and ever humbly praying our Blessed Lord, that he would assist me; and taking the same course several days; I yet found, that my Soul, had not strength enough, all alone, to go through, with the obtaining so great perfection, in regard of some inclination, and liking, which I carried to certain things; which, howsoever they were not very ill, of themselves, yet they served the turn, to spoil all. They told me then, of a certain Priest, in this place, who was a learned man; and whose virtue, and good life, our Lord began to discover to the world; and I procured, by means of a holy 
* This holy man, enters often into the Story of our Saint.  Cavallier, dwelling in the same place, to acquaint myself with him. This Cavalier is a married man; but yet leads a life, so very full of example, and virtue, and he is of so great Prayer, and Charity, that his perfection shines brightly, in the eyes of all men; and with much reason, in regard of the great good, which is grown to many Souls, by his means; as also by his great talents. And though he be not forwarded a whitt, by any plenty in his Fortune; yet he cannot choose, but employ the means he hath, that way. He is of great understanding, and of an excellent nature. His conversation, is no way troublesome; but so agreeable, and delight full, (together with his being just, and holy) that it gives gust to all such, as treat with him. He ordains, and governs all things, for the great good of such Souls, as he converses with; and seems, indeed, to have no other endeavour, or aim, then to do good to all them, whom he finds to be any way capable thereof; and, finally, to give contentment to all. Now, this holy, and blessed man, do I esteem, to have, by his industry, and charity, laid the foundation, for the salvation of my Soul. And I am confounded, to think of his humility, in that he would be content, to see me; for there were, as I conceive, little less than forty years, wherein he had exercised Mental Prayer (they might perhaps be fewer, by two, or three years,) and he led his life, with all that perfection, which his condition, and state, might seem to permit. He hath a Wife, who is so great a Servant of Almighty God, and a woman, so full of charity, that he loses nothing at all, by possessing her. In a word, he chose her for such a kind of Wife, as whom Almighty God, knew to be fit for so great a Servant of his. some of his kindred, were married to some kinswoemen of mine. And besides, I was also acquainted with another great Servant of God, who was married to one of my Cousin-germans; and I had much acquaintance, there; and, by this means, I procured, that the Priest, who was his great friend, and withal, so great a Servant of God, might come, and speak with me; for I intended to Confess myself to him; and to have him, for my Director. And now, that Cavallier conducting him to me, to the end, that we might speak together, and I, remaining with extreme confusion, to see myself in the presence of so holy a man, gave him some knowledge of my Soul, and of the Prayer, which I used; for he excused himself, from taking my Confession, as telling me, that he was very full of business; and so indeed, he was. As for him, he determined with a holy kind of resolution, to conduct me, as a person, who was confirmed, and strong (for indeed I was to have been so, in all reason, according to the Prayer, which he saw, I held) that so I might no more offend Almighty God, in the least degree. But when I so quickly found his resolution, concerning those little things, from which, as I said, I had not the courage to depart instantly, with so great perfection, I was much afflicted; and when I also found, that he meant, to carry the business of my Soul, after such manner, as if he would make an end, as it were, all at once, by disposing, and settling thereof, I saw, that I had need of much more consideration, and care, to be used towards me, than that. In a word, I was of opinion, that the means, which he prescribed, were not they, whereby my remedy was to be procured; for they were proper for a Soul, which had been more perfect, then mine. But as for me, though I had proceeded very far (in as much, as might concern the Favours of Almighty God, to my Soul) yet for as much, as concerned Virtue, and Mortification, I was but in the very beginnings thereof. And certainly, I conceive, that if I had not been to treat with any other than him, my Soul would never have improved, and thrived. For, through the affliction, which it gave me, to see, how I did not, yea and how (as I thought) I could not, do that, which he prescribed, it was enough, to make me lose my hope, and to give-over the whole business. Sometimes I am apt to marvel, that Almighty God was not pleased, to let this servant of his, the holy Priest, receive a perfect knowledge of my Soul; nor to encharge himself, with the care thereof; since he is a person, who hath a particular facility, and grace, in beginning to gain Souls to his Divine Majesty. But I see, that all this, happened for my greater good, that so I might come to know, and converse with so holy men, as they, of the Society of JESUS, are.  
But, in the mean time, I remained in agreement with that Cavalier, of whom I spoke, that now and then, he should do me the Favour, to visit me; and here, I discerned his great humility; since he would be contented, to converse with so wicked a Creature, as myself. He began therefore then, to visit me, and to encourage me, and to tell me, that I must not think, to deliver myself, from all my imperfections, in one day; but that, by little and little, Almighty God would do it; and that himself, had remained some whole years, in reforming some very little light things, as not being able to finish the work, sooner. O Humility! how great blessings dost thou bestow upon them, with whom thou remainest? yea and even upon those others also, who do but even approach, to the possessors thereof.  
This Saint (for, in my opinion, I may well give him this name, with great reason) related certain particulars to me, concerning himself, which, through his humility, seemed weaknesses, to him; but he did it, for my remedy, and redress; and, considering his condition, and way of life, they imported neither fault, nor imperfection; but, as for me, it was a very great one, to be subject to them. Nor do I say thus much, by chance, though perhaps I extend myself too far, in speaking of these very little things; but they import so much, for bringing a Soul, into the way of profiting in Spirit, and for getting her out, to fly, which hath scarce gotten yet, any feathers, that no body, who hath not experience of it, will believe it. And I affirm these things here, the rather, because I hope in Almighty God, that this, which I am saying now, will do much good. For, all my help, and hope, consisted in finding out the way, how to cure me; and in their exercising Humility, and Charity, towards me; yea and to have patience also, in perceiving, that I did not instantly, and entirely, amend myself. And this man, went with discretion, by little▪ and little; and showed me divers ways, how to overcome the Devil. In the mean time, I began to carry so entire an affection to him, that I could not receive a greater ease, and joy, then to live that day, when I might see him; though they were but few. When he delayed his Visits, I was very much, and very quickly troubled at it; as doubting, that he forbore to see me, because I was so wicked. When he came to know my so great imperfections (yea and even they might reach, to be Sins; though yet, after I had begun to treat with him, I was somewhat mended) and when I informed him also of the Favours, which Almighty God had been pleased to do me, to the end that he might give me light, he told me, that all those several things, did not suit very well, with one another; and that those Regalo's were not belonging, but to persons, who were already very much improved, and mortified; That, for his part, he could not forbear, to be much afraid, because it seemed 
* This was no improbable opinion, though it were no true one.  to him, that there appeared an evil Spirit, in some things, though yet he would not absolutely resolve it; but he wished that I should consider very well, of whatsoever I understood, concerning my Prayer, and so relate it to him. Now here, the great trouble was, that I could tell him nothing at all, of what my Prayer was; for indeed, it is not long, since Almighty God hath done me the Favour, of knowing, either how to understand it, or declare it.  
But, as soon as he had expressed himself to me, the affliction, which I had, was great; and the tears, which I shed, were many, through the fear I had. For certainly, I desired to serve, and please Almighty God, and I knew not how to persuade myself, that it was of the Devil; only I feared, lest, for my great sins, our Lord might blind me so far, as that I could not understand it. But then, turning over some Books, to see if I could meet with any thing, concerning my Prayer, I found in one, which is called: The Ascent to the Mountain, (in that particular, which concerns the Union of a Soul with Almighty God) all those signs, which I had, in that state, of my not being able, to think of any thing; for, this was that, of which I spoke most; that, Namely, I could not think of any thing, in distinct manner, when I had that Prayer; and I marked, and noted those places, with certain lines, wherein that passage was contained; and then I delivered him the Book, to the end, that both himself, and that holy Priest, and Servant of God, of whom I spoke before, might consider it, and make me know, what I was to do; and whether, perhaps, they might be of opinion, that I was to give-over my Prayer, altogether. For, in fine, to what purpose, was I to thrust myself, into those dangers, if now (after I had used this Prayer, for almost twenty years together) I had made no other benefit thereof, but to be subject, to the deceits of the Devil; and that therefore, it were better for me, not to use this Prayer at all; though yet, it be also true, that this, showed itself, as a very sad, and hard case, to me, since already I had found by experience, how ill it went with my Soul, without the exercise of Prayer. So that now, I could see nothing but misery, on all sides; like one, who were cast into a River, and to which side soever he should go, he might still have the more danger to fear; and were so, come, to the very point, as it were, of drowning.  
This is a very mighty affliction; and, of this kind, I have endured many; as I shall declare afterward. For though, perhaps, it may seem, not to import, yet peradventure, it may indeed prove to be of use, towards the understanding, of how, a Spirit, is to be tried. For certainly, the affliction, which uses to be endured in these cases, is very great; and there is need of a nice hand, and of, a wary foot, especially, when men treat with women; for, our weakness is very great; and much mischief may chance to arrive, by telling us, that such, or such a thing, is certainly the Devil, without considering it, first, very well, and removing us from those dangers, which may occur; and advising us, to keep things very private; and that they also be careful thereof themselves; for this is fit. And heerin, it is I, who speak, as one, who have endured affliction enough, for not having had fit persons, with whom I might, confer, about my Prayer, but by ask, first one, and then another, what might do me good; which hath done me hurt enough. For now, divers things have grown to be public, which might well have remained very private, since they are not, for every body's understanding; and besides, it may have seemed, as if they had been diuulged by me. I well believe, that those others did it, without any fault in them, but that our Lord was pleased, to permit it, to the end, that I might suffer by it. I am far from saying, yea or so much as thinking, as if any of them, related any such particular, as had passed from me to them, in Confession; for there was no such matter; but yet, in regard it came from me, to such persons, as to whom, in the way of conference, I gave account of my fears, to the end, that they might assist me, with giving me light, me thinks, they might have kept my counsel. But how soever, I durst never conceal any thing, from such persons, in such occasions, as those. I say therefore, that such as I was then, must be counselled, with much discretion; and animated; and time must be expected; for our Blessed Lord will help them, as he did me; which if he had not done, the prejudice, which I should have suffered, would have been extreme, by reason of my being so full of apprehensions, and fears; and especially, considering to how great palpitations of hart, I was subject, I wonder, how this other accident, did me not more hurt.  
When therefore I had delivered this Book, and made a relation of my Life, and of my Sins, the best I could, (though yet in gross; for I did it not, in the way of Confession, in regard he was a Secular person; though yet still, I made him understand, how wicked I was) those two Servants of Almighty God, considered with great charity, and love, what might be convenient for me, to do. Now, the Answer being ready, which I expected with fear enough; and I having recommended myself, at that time, to many persons, that they might recommend me over, to Almighty God; and myself also having been much in Prayer, with affliction enough of hart, to myself, the Cavallier came to me at length, and told me, that, in the opinion, both of himself, and of the other, it was the Devil; and that the thing, which would be fit for me to do, was, to treat about this business, with a certain Father of the Society of JESUS; who, if I would call him to me, & declare, that I was in necessity of his help, would not fail to come; and that I should give him an account of my whole life, by way of making a General Confession, as also otherwise, of my condition; and that I must proceed, in all things, with much clearness; and that then, in virtue of the Sacrament of Confession, Almighty God would give him more light, where with to direct me; and that they were men of great experience, in matter of Spirit; but that I should do well, to be very careful, not to swerve a whitt, from what he said; for that I would find myself, in much danger, if I wanted one, to govern, and direct my Soul. As for me, he put me now into so great fear, and pain, that I knew not, what to do with myself; and now, there was nothing with me, but weeping. And being one day, very much afflicted in an Oratory, I fell upon reading a certain Book, which it seems, our Lord brought to my hands; and S. Paul is cited there, saying, That God is very faithful; and that he never suffers them, who love him, to be tempted, above their strength. This comforted me very much; and I began to consider, about making my General Confession; and to 
* So good a beginning, was almost, a kind of perfecting the work.  put in writing, all the Sins, and Blessings, with the course, and proceeding of my whole life, the most clearly, that I understood, and knew, how to do; without leaving any little thing out. And I remember, that, when I read over, what I had written, and saw so many Sins to have been committed by me; and, in effect, no good at all, to have been done; it gave me an extreme affliction, and sorrow of hart. It also put me to some trouble, that they of the House, should see me treat, and converse with so holy people, as they, of the Society of JESUS, are; for I was afraid of mine own wickedness; and me thought, I should be obliged, by that means, to be wicked, no more; and to give-over my entertainments, and pass-times; and that, if I did not this, it would be worse with me; So that I procured, both with the Portresse, and with the Sacristin, that they should not speak thereof. But this served my turn, to little purpose; for there chanced to be one at the Gate, when I was called, who published it, over all the Convent.  
But now, what difficulties, and troubles, and fears, doth the Devil use to provide, for such persons, as dispose themselves, to approach to Almighty God? When I was treating with that Servant of his Divine Majesty (who was greatly so, and a man also of very good discretion) about the passages of my whole life, and of my Soul, he declared to me, what every thing was; as a man, who understood that language, very well; and he encouraged me much, and told me, that it was evidently, the Spirit of Almighty God, which wrought in me; 
* The Saint began here, to be happy.  But that I must return again, to the exercise of Prayer, because I was not well grounded therein, nor had so much as begun to know, what Mortification meant, (and this, was very true; for I had hardly ever well understood, so much as the name) but that I should, by no means, give-over my Prayer, but rather employ myself, with more diligence, and endeavour, therein; since Almighty God, had been pleased, to do me so particular Favours; and what (said he) could any body tell, whether it might not please our Lord, to do good to many, even by your means? Other things also he said, in such sort, as that he might seem, even to have prophesied then, concerning those things, which our Lord was pleased to grant, and effect, afterward. And I should be subject, to very great blame, if I corresponded not with those Favours, which our Lord vouchsafed to show me. In all things, it seemed to me, that the Holy Ghost spoke to me, by this Father, in order to the Cure of my Soul; so distinctly grew every thing, to be imprinced therein. He put me to great confusion; and directed me, by such means, to proceed, that he seemed to make me absolutely, even another Creature: So great a thing it is, to understand a Soul. He willed me, every day, to meditate upon some passage of the Passion of our Blessed Lord; and that I should help myself thereby; and that I should not think, but upon his Holy Humanity; and that I should resist those recollections, and gusts, as much as I could; and not give place to them, till he should express himself to me, by some other order.  
He left me, both comforted, and strengthened; and our Lord assisted both me, and him, to the end, that he might understand my condition, and in what sort, I was to govern myself; and I, remained with a resolution, not to swerve at all, from any thing, which he had, or should command me; and therein, have I continued, till this very day. Our Lord be blessed, and praised, for having given me grace, to obey my Ghostly Fathers, though yet, after an imperfect manner; and they, have, in effect, ever been, these blessed men, of the Society of JESUS; howsoever (as I was saying) I have followed them, after an imperfect manner. But now, my Soul began to receive an evident kind of amendment, and improvement; as I will here declare.   

THE FOUR AND TWENTIETH CHAPTER.  
She prosecutes the former Discourse; and shows, how her Soul went profiting, when once she had begun to obey. She also declares, for how little purpose it served, to resist the Favours of Almighty God; And how his Divine Majesty went daily imparting them to her, after a more complete manner.  
But now my Soul remained so supple, and tractable, by means of this last Confession of mine, that I thought, there could be nothing, to which I would not dispose myself; and so I instantly began to change, in many things, though yet my Ghostly Father did not 
* This was a wise man, & likely to work wonders upon a Soul.  press me much, but rather seemed to make little account of them. And this, wrought even so much the more upon me; for he carried me rather on, by way of giving me certain liberty, in little things; then of pressure; unlosse myself could find in my hart, to do it for Love.. In the mean time, I continued, upon the point of two months, using all the diligence, that possibly I could, to resist the Favours, and Regalo's of Almighty God. As for my exterior conversation, and proceeding, there was already an apparent change to be seen, in me; for already, our Blessed Lord, began, to give me courage, to do certain things, which the persons, who saw, and knew me, held to be extreme; and even, in the very House itself, and in respect of what I was wont to do before, they might, indeed, be accounted, to hang that way; though yet still, it all, fell short enough of that, to which I was obliged, both by the Habit, which I had taken, and by the Profession also, which I had made. From that resistance, which I made, to the gusts, and Regalo's of Almighty God, I gained thus much, that his Divine Majesty came to be pleased, to be my Instructor himself. For before, it seemed, that, for the disposing me, towards the receiving of any such Regalo's, as those, there was need, that I should retire, and shut myself, as it were, up, into corners; and I also durst not, as it were, move, or stir. But afterward, I quickly found, how little, all that, served to the purpose; for, when I procured to divert myself most, so much the more did our Blessed Lord cover me, as it were, all over, with that kind of Suavitie, and glory, as seemed, even to compass me in, on every side; in such sort, as that it was not possible for me, to scape from it. And really, so it was; for, as for me, I took so much care to decline it, that it did even put me to pain; and yet our Lord was pleased, even still, to have more care, to be doing me Favours; and to express himself, that way, (in those two months I say) much more, than he had formerly done; to the end, that I might, the better, know, that this business did now, no longer, depend, any way, upon myself.  
And now, I began to grow to carry a new, and fresh kind of love, towards the most Sacred Humanity of our Blessed Lord; and my Prayer began to settle itself, like a Building, which now had mortar in it, that might make the parts stick together; and I began also, to incline myself more, to the doing of Penance, wherein I was grown a little slack, by reason of my so great infirmities. For, that holy man, to whom I made my Confession, told me, that some kinds of Penance, which he named, would do me no hurt; and that, perhaps, Almighty God gave me sickness, in the quality of Penance, since I would impose none, upon myself. He willed me also, to do certain acts of Mortification, which were not very pleasing to me; though yet, I went-through with them all; because it seemed to me, as if our Lord himself had commanded them; and his Divine Majesty, gave him also grace, to direct them, in such sort, as that I should be glad to obey him. My Soul went then greatly feeling every offence, which I might commit against Almighty God, how light, or small soever, the same might be; in such sort, and to so high a proportion, as that, if I did but wear any one little superfluous thing about me, I was not able to recollect myself, till I had put it off. I made much Prayer to our Blessed Lord, that he would be pleased to protect me still; and that, since I conversed, and treated the business of my Soul, with his Servants, he would never permit, that I should return back again; for I conceived, that that, would be a strange offence in me; yea and that even they, would grow to loose credit by it, upon my occasion.  
At this time, came to this place, Father Francis Borgia, who had been Duke of Gandia, and who already, some years before, had left all, and had entered into The Society of JESUS. And now, my Ghostly Father, as also the Cavalier, of whom I spoke before, came to me, with desire, that I would speak with Father Borgia; and that I would also give him account, of the Prayer I held; for they knew, that the said Father Borgia, was a person, 
* He lost nothing, by leaveing to be a Duke, for God's sake.  far advanced, in being much favoured, and regaled, by Almighty God; and that, as one, who had left very much, in this world, for the love of our Lord, he was resolved to pay him for it, even here. When Father Borgia had heard me, he told me, that it was the Spirit of Almighty God; and that he was of opinion, that now, it was fit, no longer to resist his Favours; though yet, till then, he thought it to have been well done. But that I should always begin my Prayer, with the consideration of some passage of the Passion; and if afterward, our Blessed Lord would elevate the Spirit, I should not resist it, but suffer his Divine Majesty to carry it away; provided always, that myself should not have any hand, in procuring it. But he, in fine, as being a man, who had travailed far already, in that way, did give me, both counsel, and physic. For, experience is a great matter, in these affairs; and he said, it was an error, to resist the Favours of Almighty God, now, any longer. Myself was greatly comforted by this; and so also was the Cavalier; and he rejoiced much to hear Father Borgia say, that it was of Almighty God; and he also advised, and assisted me, in what he could; which was very much.  
About this time, they changed my Ghostly Father, from that place, to another, which I resented extremely; for I thought, I was to turn wicked, again; as also, I conceived, that it would not be possible, that ever I should find another, like him. My Soul was full of discomforts, and fears, even as if it had been planted in a kind of Desert; nor did I know, in fine, what to do with myself. A certain Kinswoeman of mine, procured then; to carry me along with her, to her House; and I procured also to go, the rather, that so, I might get another Confessarius, of the Society of JESUS. Our Lord was also pleased then, that I should make friendship with a certain Lady, a Widow, who was both of much quality, and of great Prayer, and she conversed very much, with the Fathers of the said Society; and she drew me also to Confess, to her Confessarius. I remained a good while, in her house; for she lived near me; and I was glad, to treat much with those Fathers; for even by the only understanding, which I came to have, of the sanctity of their conversation, and way of proceeding, the profit, which my Soul found, and felt, was great. This Father, began to address me, and engage me upon ways of more Perfection. He told me, that, for the giving Almighty God entire contentment, and gust, there was nothing to be lest undone; But this 
* This must needs have been, a holy, and a wise man.  he said, with a great deal of prudence, and sweetness; for my Soul was not yet, any thing strong, but green, and tender; especially in the point of giving-over certain freindships', which I maintained at that time; for though I offended not Almighty God thereby, yet the affection, which I bore them, was very great; and I held it, to be a kind of ingratitude, to give them over. And so I also told him, that since Almighty God was not offended by it, what reason could there be, why I should become ungrateful? He said, I should do well, to recommended it, to Almighty God, for some days, and to recite the Hymn of Veni Creator Spiritus, &c, that so the holy-ghost might give me light, to do that, which was best. Having therefore been, one day, much in Prayer, and humbly beseeching our Blessed Lord, that he would assist me, to please him, in all things, I began the Hymn; and whilst I was saying it, there came a Rapt upon me, so instantly, and so suddenly, that it took me, as it were, out of myself; and of this, I could not doubt; for it was very evident; and it was also, the very first time, that our Lord showed me the Favour of Rapts; and then I heard these 
* A little of this, goes far.  words from him: I will not have thee now, hold conversation with men, but with Angels. This gave me a great amazement; for, the commotion of the Soul was great; and those words were spoken to me, in the very interior part of the Spirit; so that they made me afraid; though yet, on the other side, they gave me also great consolation, which, upon the very flight of that fear, (which had, in my opinion, caused that strange novelty,) did still remain with me. The truth is, that this Speech of our Lord, hath been very well accomplished, and performed; for, never have I been even able, any more, to establish any friendship at all, nor to feel any consolation, nor entertain any particular love towards any other person, than such, as I understand, and know, to love Almighty God, and to procure to serve him. Nor is it now, any longer, in my hand, or power, nor serves it a whitt, to the purpose, whether any of them be kindred, or friends, or no; for, if I understand not, that he is the Servant of Almighty God, or a person addicted to Prayer, it is no less, than a heavy cross for me, to converse much, with any Creature. And this is certainly true, to the uttermost of what I can judge of myself.  
From that day forward, I have remained full of courage, and resolution, to leave the whole world, for Almighty God; in regard he had been pleased, in that very moment (for it seemed no more to me, than a very moment) to make this Servant of his, become wholly, another Creature, than what she had been. So that now, there was no longer need, that they should command me, in that particular, any more; for, when my Ghostly Father, had found me, to be so fixed upon this point, he had not yet adventured to will me expressly, to do it. For he did, without all doubt, expect, that our Lord should be pleased, to do it himself, as, indeed, he did; nor yet could I ever imagine, that it would prove to take effect with me, as yet it fell out to do; because already, I had used some endeavours that way; and the affliction, which I received by it, was so great, that I resolved to give over the attempt, as being a thing, which I held not to be inconvenient, to continue. But now here, our Blessed Lord, imparted both liberty, and strength to me, to put it in execution. I told this very thing, to my Ghostly Father; and I gave over that friendship, according to what I had been commanded. And it did them no little good, with whom I had been wont to converse, to see this resolution grown in me. Almighty God be ever blessed, and praised, who gave me that liberty, and power, in one 
* So true it is, that God is God.  moment, which I had not been able to purchase, and obtain of myself, by the multitude of those great diligences, which I had used, many years, in order to this end; though yet, I had employed myself, so earnestly, upon this attempt, that it had cost me, a good part of my health. But now, this having been wrought, and granted by him, who is the Omnipotent, and true Lord of all Creatures, it put me not, even to the least pain, or trouble, at all.   

THE FIVE AND TWENTIETH CHAPTER.  
She treats here, of the way, and manner, of understanding those words, or speeches, which Almighty God is pleased to utter to the Soul, though yet without hearing any voice, or sound; and of some errors, or abuses, which may happen heerin; and, how the right, may be known, from the wrong. It is of much use, and profit, for such, as see themselves in this Degree of Prayer; for it is declared very well; and the Doctrine contains great instruction.  
ME thinks, it should do well, to declare, what kind of thing, this Speech is, which our Lord expresses to the Soul; and what she also feels; to the end, that your Reverence may understand it; for, from this very time, when our Lord did me this Favour, (as I have said) the same thing is very usual with me, even till this very present; as I shall let you see, by that which follows. I say therefore, that they are certain Words, very distinctly form; and that, howsoever they be not heard, with our ears, of flesh and blood, yet are they understood, much more expressly, and clearly, then if they were so heard. And to seek to forbear to understand them, yea and to resist the understanding them, (how much soever it may be) is a vanity, and a most impossible thing. When, in this world, we have a mind, not to hear, we may stop our ears, or else attend to other things, if we will; in such sort, as that, although, peradventure, we may hear the words, yet we shall not, in that case, understand them. But 
* The mighty force, and power of any one Supernatural word.  now, in this discourse, which Almighty God makes to the Soul, there is no remedy at all, but they make me hearken to them, whether I will, or no; & they oblige the Understanding, to be very entire, & attentive, for the comprehending thereof. For he, who is able to do all things, is resolved, that we shall understand him; and that, which he resolves, must be done; and so he comes to be known, to be the true Lord of us all. I have very well experimented this truth; for, the resistance, which I made him, did last, upon the point of two years, through the great fear, wherein I was; yea and even now, I make those trials sometimes, but it serves me to little purpose. I would fain declare the errors; and abuses, which may here occur; though, for a man, who hath much experience, me thinks, there should be few, or none. But indeed, the said experience, would be great; as namely, to know the difference, when the Spirit is good; and when it is ill; and when perhaps, the thing may also be, but an apprehension of the very Understanding itself, which may occur; or when the very Spirit itself, may speak, to the very selfsame Spirit; and I know not very well, whether this may happen, or no; though even this very day, I had a kind of opinion, that it might.  
When these Words are indeed, of Almighty God, I have found the truth thereof, in many things, which were told me, two or three years before; and they all fell out, to prove true; and till now, not any one of them, failed. There are also other things, whereby it grows to prove, very plain, that the Spirit is of God; as I will declare afterward.  
To 
* The infinite difference, betweme Supernatural words of God, & all other.  me it seems, that a person, recommending a thing to Almighty God, with great earnestness, and apprehension, may grow to make himself conceive, that he comes to understand, in some sort, whether the thing shall be done, or no; and this, I say, is very possible; but he, who understands things, after this other manner, will clearly discover, what it may be; so great a difference there is, between the two. And if indeed, it be a thing, which the Understanding devices, and makes, (how subtly, and how delicately soever, the matter go) he understands, that there is some part of himself, in that, which is ordained, and said. For, it is no other thing, then for a man to set a Discourse on foot; or to hearken, to what another man says; for then, the Understanding finds, that it doth not hearken then, because it works; and the words, which it goes framing, in that case, are, as it were, fantastical, and mute, and confused; and are not delivered with that clearness, which those others have. And now here, it is in our own power, to divert ourselves, or else to hold our peace, when we speak; but in this other case, we have no such power at all.  
Another sign there is, which is of more importance, than all the rest; for, these things, which are said by ourselves, have no manner of operation, and work no effect, at all; But the other, when our Lord is pleased to speak, is not only of words, but works; and though they be not words of devotion, but of reprehension, they instantly dispose the Soul, and they enable her, and make her relent; and they give light, and regale her, and appease her. And, if she were in state of dryness, and commotion, and disorder, these Words take all away, as if it were, with the hand; yea and yet, much better, than so; for it seems, that our Lord's business is then, to show his mighty power; and that his Words, are deeds. Me thinks, there is such a difference, as there is between our speaking, or hearing; neither more, ●orlesse. For that which I speak, I go ordering (as I was saying) with my Understanding; but if another speak to me, I do no more than hear, without any trouble at all, to myself. One of these kinds of Words, is like some thing, whereof we cannot well determine, whether it be not, as of a man, who is half asleep. But this other, is found to come from a voice, so distinct, and clear, that not one single syllable, of all that, which is said, can be lost. And yet, these things happen sometimes, when the Understanding, and, indeed, the whole Soul, is in so great distraction, & disorder, that it would never be able, to hit right, in the framing of one little piece of good discourse; but she finds in this other way, certain great, and weighty sentences, which are imparted to her, so strangely well ordered, and dressed, that, though she were never so deeply recollected, she were not able to reach them; and yet at the very first word thereof (as I was saying) they begin to make a total mutation of her Soul. And especially, if she be brought into Rapt, when the Powers of the Soul, are suspended, how shall those things, ever come to be understood by her, after a natural way, which were never exposed before to her Memory; as they come to be then, when it works not, in effect, at all; and when her Imagination is now, upon the matter, as it were, all turned fool.  
But here it is to be understood, that whensoever either Visions are seen, or any of these Supernatural Words, or Speeches, be heard, it is never, in my opinion, at such times, as when the Soul is wholly united, in the Rapt itself; for, at those times (as, I think, I declared already, in my Discourse of the Second Water) all the Powers of the Mind, are entirely lost; and so we cannot (at such times, as those) either see, or hear, or understand. For, the Soul is wholly in the power of another, at that time, which yet uses to last very little; and, me thinks, our Lord leaves her not in liberty, to do any thing at all. But when that short time is past, the Soul remaining still in the Rapt, this happens, whereof now I speak; because the Powers remain in such sort, at that time. And though they be not lost, yet, in effect, they operate, and act nothing at all; but are, as if they were absorbed, and no way able to discourse, by the assembling, and composing of reasons. But there are so many ways to understand the differennce, which occurrs here, between the true, and the false, that if the Soul should chance to be deceived some once, she would not be so, very often. Nay I say further, that if the Soul have had any experience, and be careful to observe, what passes, she will evidently discern this truth. For, besides all other means, whereby that, will appear, which I have said, these strained words will work no effect, at all; neither will the Soul, ever admit them; as yet, she must, these other true ones, whether she will, or no. Nor gives she any credit to the thing, at all; but rather finds, and knows, that it is but a kind of idle imagination; just so, in effect, as we would not make account of any thing, which were said to us, by a frantic person.  
But this other, is, as if we heard some person speak, who were very holy, and learned, and of great authority; and such an one, as we are sure, would not lie. Yea and this, is but a mean, and base Comparison; because indeed, these very Words, do bring with them, sometimes, so great a Majesty, that even (without so much as reflecting upon, who it is, that speaks them) if they be words of reprehension, they make men tremble; and if they concern the Love of God, they make Souls even dissolve, and, as it were, annihilate themselves, in love. And they are things, in fine, which (as I have said already) are very far then, from our remembrance; and there use to be so high, and so great sentences, so clearly, and so suddenly pronounced, as that there would have been need, of a very great deal of time, for the putting them in order; and, for my part, I think, it is wholly impossible, that then, such things as those, should be even conceived by us, to have been made, or framed, by ourselves. So that there is no cause at all, why I should detain myself heerin, any longer; for it would look, like a kind of wonder, in mine eye, if any experienced person should be able to be deceived heerin, unless he would even have a mind, to deceive himself.  
It hath happened to me, very ●●●en, not fully to believe that, which these Words tell me, if I be in any doubt at all thereof; but to conceive, that it was no more, than mine own fancy. This I do, when the occasion is past; for, at the present, it is impossible; but I have seen it fulfilled, long after; because our Lord is pleased, that the same should remain still, in the memory; for it is not possible, to forget it. Now that, which is wont to proceed from our own Understanding, is, in effect, but the first motion of our thoughts, which quickly passes away, and is forgotten; whereas this other, is a Work, rather than a word. And though some part of it, may be forgotten, in a long tract of time, yet the Memory cannot lose it, so far, as not to know, that it was said, unless the time may have been very long; or else, if they be Words of Favour, or of Doctrine, and Instruction; but if they be of Prophesy, they never happen, in my opinion, to be forgotten; at least, this never happened to me, though yet, I have a very ill memory.  
And now I return to say, that, me thinks, if a Soul be not, as it were, so base, and wicked, as even, in effect, not to be a Soul; and unless it would counterfeit, and feign (which were mischief, and misery enough) and would say, that she understands things, when yet really, there were no such matter, it is impossible but that she should see clearly, that it is she herself, who composes, and frames those Words, and speaks them to herself; especially if she have had any understanding at all, of the Spirit of God; for, if she have not, she may very well remain in this abuse, or error, all the days of her life; and may perhaps conceive, that she understands those Words, as spoken by some other; though yet, for my part, I confess, that I cannot arrive to know, how this should be done; for, either this Soul will understand them, or not. If she be dismissing herself of that, which she understands, and would fain understand no part of it, (for a thousand fears, besides many other reasons, which she may have, to continue quiet, in her Prayer, without such accidents, as these) how comes she to allow so much time to the Understanding, as may serve for the composing of these reasons? For, in fine, there must be time, for that. But now, in this other way, we remain instructed, without any loss of time, at all; yea, and we grow to understand certain things, at an instant; when yet otherwise, a month would have been time, little enough, to ordain them. Yea and the Understanding remains no less than amazed, at some things, which we understand. This is the very truth; and whosoever hath any experience, will find, that every word of this, which I have said, is literally certain; and I bless Almighty God, for enabling me to declare it, as I have done. And now I end this part of the Discourse, with saying, that me thinks, when such Words proceed from our own Understanding, we may easily come to know it, if we have a mind to it; and every time, that we are in Prayer, we shall conceive, that we understand them. But in this other kind of Words, or Speeches, it is not so; for it will be many days wherein, though I should desire to understand somewhat of that kind, it would be absolutely impossible; and when, at other times, I have no thought that way, I must yet understand it; as I have said. And me thinks, that whosoever had a mind to deceive others, affirming himself to understand that, from Almighty God, which is from himself, might as well (and it would cost him as little) affirm, that he heard it, with his ears. And it is a most certain, and real truth, that, for my part, I never thought, that there was any other way, then that, for the hearing, and understanding any thing, till I found, in mine own case, that this, which I have now delivered, is true; and it hath cost me, as I said, much trouble.  
When these things proceed of the Devil, they do not only, not work any good effects, but leave also very ill ones, behind them. But this, hath not happened to me, above twice, or thrice; and I have instantly been advertised, by our Lord, that they were of the Devil. And, besides the great dryness, which they leave behind them, they also give the Soul much disquiet, after the manner of those many other times, when our Lord hath permitted me, to have great temptations, and troubles of Soul, in different kinds; and that I should often be tormented, as I will declare hereafter. But this is a certain kind of disquiet, of which we know not, how to understand, from whence it comes; but it seems, that the Soul resists it, and is put into great disorder by it; and is afflicted, without knowing for what; in regard that the Devil saith, that such, or such a thing, is not ill, but good. I conceive, that if one Spirit may be able to find, and feel another, the gust, and delight, which this Diabolical Spirit gives, is different, in my opinion, from the other, after a most evident manner. The Devil may well deceive some such person, by giving him gusts, as never received any before, from Almighty God; for, these latter, are gusts indeed, which import a sweet, strong, well-imprinted, quiet, delightful kind of pleasure, and joy; for, as for those little pretty devotions of the Soul, and certain other slight feelings, which be like little young flowers, that are shaken off, and lost, upon the least little wind of persecution, I do not call them Devotions; though yet they are good beginnings, and holy motions, but no way sufficient to determine, whether the effects proceed from a good Spirit, or a bad; and therefore it will be very necessary, to walk, in this kind of things, with huge caution; for, such persons, as shall not have proceeded further, in Prayer, than thus far, may easily grow to be deceived, if they fall out to have Visions, or Revelations. For my part, I never had of these last, till God, through his own only goodness, gave me Prayer of Union; unless it were that first time, whereof I spoke; and it happened to me, many years ago, when I saw Christ our Lord; and I would to God, it had pleased his Divine Majesty, that I had understood, at that time, that it was a true Vision, as I understood it, to be, afterward; for, it would not have been, of small advantage to me.  
But now, upon these illusions of the Devil, there never grows any sweetness, or softness, and supplenesses, to the Soul; but she remains, as if she were frighted, and with much disgust. And I hold it for very certain, that Almighty God will never permit the Devil to deceive any Soul, which puts no confidence at all, in herself, and which is fortified in the right Faith, and resolves thus much, for her part, that she would die a thousand deaths, for the least Article thereof; and who, together with this Love, and Faith, being infused into the Soul, by Almighty God (which is a Livelie, and strong Faith indeed) procures always to go, in conformity with that, which is taught by the Holy Catholic Church; informing herself further, by several ways, as a person, who is strongly seated in this truth, That all the imaginable Revelations of the whole world, no not, if she should see the very Heavens open themselves, could make her vary in the least point, from the Doctrines, and Decrees of the said Church. But if she once come so far, as but to shake, or waver, even in one single thought, against this; or entertain herself so far, as to say: But now, if God himself say thus to me, as he hath said such other things, to Saints; this may also be true; I say not, that she believe it, but that the Devil begin to tempt her, by this motion; and that she be content, to continue herself a little therein; a body may see already, that this is stark naught. But for my part, I believe, that many times, even these other first motions, will hardly ever come so far, as even but to set upon such a Soul; if she be already so strong, as our Blessed Lord is wont to have made such, as to whom he uses to impart these Favours. For, me thinks, she might be able to tear those Devils, even to fitters, whensoever there might be question of any one single little Truth, which the Church holds. I say, that, if the Soul do not find such a strength, as this, in herself; and that the devotion, or Vision, which she had, do not assist, and help her-on therein, let her not hold any such Vision for safe; because, though the hurt of it, be not instantly understood, it may perhaps grow, by little, and little, to be great. For, (to the uttermost of what I can discern, and know by experience) the reputation, and credit, that such a thing is of the Spirit of God, is settled, and assured, in such sort, as that it also goes, in conformity to Holy Scripture. And when it should be found to vary from this Rule, though it were never so little, I think I should be then, much more sure, without comparison, that it were of the Devil, than now I have assurance, that it is of Almighty God; how great soever I might find that assurance to be. For, in that case, we should have no need at all, to go in search after signs; nor to inquire, of what Spirit it were; since this is so clear a sign, to make us believe, that it is of the Devil, that if all the world should endeavour to assure me, that it were of God, I would not believe it.  
The matter is, that, when these things are of the Devil, it seems, as if all kind of benediction, did hide itself, and even fly from the Soul; so untoward, and unquiet, and in so great disorder, doth she remain, without any one good effect, at all. For, though there may be a seeming, as if there were a planting of good desires, in her; yet they are not effectual, or strong. The humility, which he leaves behind him, is false, unquiet, and without any suavity at all; and me thinks, this may be easily enough understood, by any Creature, who hath experience, of what a good Spirit, is. But yet, the Devil is very able to play many tricks; and therefore there is nothing of this kind so certain, and clear, but that somewhat may still be feared, at his hands. And so it will ever be well done, to proceed with caution, and advice; and to have a Director, who may be learned; and to conceal nothing from him; and so the Party shall be sure to take no hurt; though yet, I have had my part thereof, through the excessive fears, to which some of them were subject.  
In particular, it happened to me once, that many persons meeting together, in whom I had belief enough, (and there was reason, that I should have it; and though I proceeded heerin, after the manner of entire confidence, but with one, yet when he commanded me, I spoke also with others) they treated much, about finding remedy, for all my inconveniences. For, they loved me very much; and I doubted, that I might, perhaps, be deceived; and I was also subject to extreme fears, whensoever I was not in Prayer; for when I was, and when our Lord vouchsafed to do me any Favour therein, I grew presently, into good assurance; and I think, they were five, or six of them; and they were all, great Servants of Almighty God. But then, my Ghostly Father told me, that they 
* A strange encounter.  all, had grown to resolve, that it was the Devil; and directed me, not to Communicate so often; and that I should endeavour, to divert myself, in such sort, as that I might not be much alone. Now, I was extremely timorous in these cases, as I have said; and the palpitation of my hart, helped me on, therein; so that I had not the courage, many times, to be alone, in my room, even by day. But when I found, what so many of them affirmed, (which yet I could by no means believe) I grew to have an extreme scruple, as conceauing, that this was a sign, of very little humility, in myself, since they all, were incomparably of better life, than I; and, besides all this, they were learned; and, in fine, why should not I believe them? I forced myself the best I could, to do it; and I thought much, of mine own wicked life; and how, (considering that) it might be likely enough to be true, which they said. Upon this, I went into the Church, with this affliction; and passed on, into an Oratory, having forborn, many days, to Communicate; and avoided also to be alone; which yet had formerly been my total comfort; and all this, without having one person, with whom I might treat; for, they were all against me. Nay some of them, me thought, made themselves, as it were, merry with me, whensoever I would be telling them, what I thought; and others would be advising my Ghostly Father, to take heed of me; nay some would go so far, as to say, that it was clearly the Devil. Only my Ghostly Father, though he conformed himself with those others (as I grew to understand afterward) so far, as to have me tried, did ever give me comfort, and told me, that, though it should be the Devil, yet I, not offending Almighty God, he would be able to do me no hurt; That the difficulty would grow to be removed; That, in the mean time, I should pray heartily to Almighty God; and that he, and all those others, and many more also than they, would do the like; and all my Prayer, and theirs, whom I conceived to be the Servants of Almighty God, aimed at this; That his Divine Majesty would be pleased, to carry me on, by some other way. And this kind of making continual intercession to our Lord, might last, about a matter of some two years.  
As for me, I was capable of no comfort, when I thought once, that it was possible, for the Devil, to be so often speaking to me, and in me; but in regard, that now, I employed no more hours of my time, in Solitude, for Prayer, our Lord gave me Recollection, even when I was in conversation; and so, as that I was not able to avoid it; and he said such things to me, as he pleased; and I, in the mean time, was troubled, that I was fain to hear him. But once, being all alone, without having any Creature by me, upon whom to ease myself, I could neither pray, nor read; but was like a person, even all amazed, at so great tribulation, as I endured; and with so much fear, to consider, whether the Devil were to have power, to circumvent me, in this manner, or no. And being all disordered, and even tired, without knowing what to do with myself (for I had seen myself, in this affliction, and that very often, though yet never, to my thinking, in so great extremity, as then) I remained four, or five hours, after this manner? For there seemed to be no comfort at all, for me, either upon earth, or yet from Heaven; but our Lord left me so, in sufferance, and under the fear also, of a thousand dangers.  
O my dear Lord! and how truly art thou a true friend? and how powerful art thou, to do what thou wilt? and dost never leave, to love them, who love thee, if they love thee indeed? Let all things praise thee, O thou Lord of the whole world; and O, that I could cry out, loud enough, through that whole world, to declare, how faithful, and true thou art, to thy friends! All other things grow to fail us; but thou, who art the Lord of them all, dost never fail; and it is little also, which thou permittest such, as love thee, to suffer for thee. O my dear Lord! how delicately, and how smoothly, yea and how savourily also, dost thou know, how to treat such Souls! O that a Creature, whom I know, had been so happy, as never to have detained herself, upon loving any other thing, then thee! It seems indeed, O Lord, that sometimes, thou tryest such, as love thee, with a kind of rigour; to the end, that, by that extremity of trouble, they may afterward, come the better, to find, and feel thereby, the great excess of thy love. O my God that I had understanding, and learning, yea and new words; so to be able, to exaggerate thy works, according to that intelligence, which my Soul hath, thereof! All this, is wanting to me, O my dear Lord; but yet, if thou forsake me not, I will never be wanting to thee. Let all the learned men of the world rise-up against me; Let the Devils of Hell, torment me; yea, Let all creatures persecute me; but only, be not thou wanting to me, O my dear Lord; for I know, by good experience, with how much advantage, and fruit, thou deliverest all such persons, as put their confidence in thee, alone. For, when I was in this great, and miserable affliction of Spirit, at a time, when I had not enjoyed any one Vision, at all, these only few 
* Great power of our Lord.  following words, were sufficient to free me from all trouble, and to quiet me entirely: Fear not, O my Daughter for, it is I, and I will not forsake thee; Do not fear. It seems to me, that, considering what kind of Creature I was, then, there would have been need of a long time, to persuade me to quiet myself; and that no body would have been able, to do it; and yet now, behold me here, all quieted, and composed, by these few words; and I was endued with strength, with courage, & with security, which was accompanied with a kind of repose, and light; in such sort, as that, at that very instant, I saw my Soul become a direct other thing, than it was before; and, me thinks, I could even have disputed against the whole world, in proof, that this, proceeded from Almighty God. O what a good dear God, is this! O what a good dear Lord is he, and how very powerful! for not only doth he give the counsel, but the remedy also. His very Words, are Works; and O, how doth he, both strengthen our Faith, and increase our Love? It is really very true, that I often called to mind, how our Lord had commanded the winds, to compose, and quiet themselves, at Sea, when a Tempest had been raised. And so also, did I say: Who is this, whom all the Powers of my Soul obey? and who, at an instant, brings-in light, to chase so great an obscurity away; and makes that hart, grow soft, and supple, which seemed to have the very hardness of stone; and knows, how to drive, and draw-downe the water of sweet tears, where there was so great a drought, so long before. Who is he, that can inspire these desires? Who can imprint such a courage? what was I about, to doubt? and what can I fear? What is this? I desire, to serve this Lord; and I pretend no other thing, then to please him; I renounce all contentment, and ease, or any other good at all, but only the accomplishing of his Will. For, of this, I was very sure, in my opinion; and that I might safely affirm it; that, since this Lord is so powerful, as, I see, he is; and as I know, he is; and that all the Devils of Hell, are his Slaves; and of this, there can be no doubt, since it is matter of Faith; and I being the Servant of this Lord, and King, what hurt can they all, be able to do me? and, why may not I have strength enough, to fight with all the Powers of Hell?  
I then, took a Cross into my hand; and really, I thought, God gave me courage to conceive, that I should be shortly, another kind of woman; and that I was not to be afraid, to wrestle a Fall, with the 
* How quickly she got courage against the Devils.  Devils; but conceived, that, together with that Cross, I should be easily able, to overcome them all; yea and once, I provoked them thus: Come towards me, as many of you, as dare; for I, being the Servant of our Lord, will see, what you all, can do against me. And it is most certain, that I thought, they were afraid of me; and, for my part, I remained so, in quiet, and so totally, without fear of them all, that all the fears, which I had formerly conceived, till that very present time, were removed from me. For, though I saw them sometimes, (as I shall declare afterward) yet I never feared them more, but conceived that they were rather afraid of me. I possessed a dominion over them, which had been given me, by the Lord of all Creatures: and I make no more reckoning of them, then of so many Flies; and they seem to be, of so cowardly a nature, that, when once they come to find, that they are not esteemed, they have no power at all. For, this kind of enemy, knows not, how to set upon any one, who renders not himself up, to them; or else; when Almighty God permitts, for the greater good of his Servants, that they may tempt, and torment them. I would to God, it might please his Divine Majesty, that we would fear, whom indeed, we ought to fear; and that we might perfectly understand; that we shall receive more prejudice, by committing any 
* A most certain truth.  one single Venial sin, then by all the power of Hell, put together; for, this is a most certain truth. How extremely do these Devils carry us frighted, up, and down, because ourselves indeed, will needs give occasion thereof, by our being so close fastened, as we are, to our Honours, to our Estates, and to our Delights? For then; we being joined together, with these impediments, by loving, and desiring to possess them, who are our contraries, & whom we ought to abhor, they grow able, to do us much hurt. For, we enable them, to fight against our very selves, with our own weapons, which we put into their hands; though indeed, we were to defend ourselves, thereby, against them; And this is both pity, and shame. But now, if, on the other side, we shall resolve to abhor all those things, for the love of our Lord, and embrace his Cross, and pitch upon doing him service, in good earnest, he flies as fast away from these solid truths, as a man would do, from the Plague. In fine, he is a friend of Lies; yea and a very Lie, himself. He is easily kept from meddling much, with such persons as walk entirely according to Truth; but when once he can discover, that a man's Understanding grows to be obscured, he hath a particular grace, in procuring to break the very strings of his eyes; and if he see one, already prove so blind, as that he will needs build his rest, and ease, upon vain things, (and so vain, as that, being things of this world, they are no better, than toys, fit for children) he finds already; that such a person, is a very Child, and so he treats him like such an one; and wrestles with him, more or less, as he sees cause.  
I beseech our Blessed Lord, that I may never prove to be one of these, but that his Divine Majesty, may be pleased to do me so much Favour, as that I may understand that, to be ease, and rest, which is, indeed, true ease, and rest; and that, to be honour; which is true Honour; & delight, which is true delight; and not the direct contrary, to all this; and then, a fig for all the Devils in Hell; for then, they shall be, all of them, afraid of me. For my part, I vnderstand not those fears of the Devil, and the Devil; and I know not what; when we may be able to say, God, and God, etc. and so make those Wretches, tremble. For already, we know well enough, that the Devil is not able to stir, unless our Lord permit him. What then, may be the ground of all these disorders? It is certainly, that I am more afraid of them, who are so frighted by the Devil, then of the Devil himself; for he is utterly unable, to do me hurt, whereas these others (especially, if they be Ghostly Fathers) may put Souls to much disquiet; and, for my part, I have passed some years, through so great trouble, that now, I am even amazed to consider, how I have been able to endure it. But Blessed be our Lord, who hath assisted me, in so good earnest;  
Amen.   

THE SIX AND TWENTIETH CHAPTER.  
She prosecutes the same Discourse; and goes relating, and declaring such things, as happened to her, which made her loose fear; and to be strengthened in a belief, that it was a good Spirit, which spoke to her.  
I Esteem the courage, which our Lord hath vouchsafed to give me, against all the Devils of Hell, to be one of the great Favours, which it hath pleased his Divine Majesty, to do me; since for a Soul to go cowardly on, and to be fearful indeed, of any thing, but only to offend the Majesty of Almighty God, is an extreme inconvenience. For, since we have a King, who is Omnipotent, and so great a Lord, that he can do, what he lists, and who brings all things into subjection, under himself, there is no fear at all, to be had; and therefore, as I was saying, we have no cause to doubt; so that we walk sincerely, and with purity of conscience, in the presence of his Divine Majesty. And in order to this end, I shall be glad, to have all the fears in the world, to offend him, in any one instant of my whole life; who is able in the very selfsame instant, to destroy, and annihilate us all. As long as his Divine Majesty is pleased with us, there is no Creature, who can stand against us, without having his head broken, for his pains. You will, peradventure, say, that this is very true; but yet now, on the other side, where shall we find that Soul, which stands so straight, as that she may be wholly pleasing to him? and because she is not so, she is in fear. I answer, that I am sure, that, that pure, and innocent Soul, is none of mine, which indeed is very wretched, and unprofitable, and surcharged even with a thousand miseries. But yet still, we have this comfort, that Almighty God doth not proceed with such rigours, as men do; for he knows, and considers our frailties; and the Soul hath ways of understanding, and finding in itself, by great conjectures, whether, really, she love his Divine Majesty, or no; for in such, as arrive once to this state, our love to him, is not now, a kind of dissembled, or disguised love, as it uses sometimes to be, in the beginnings; but it is accompanied with so great impulses, and even impetuosities of desire, to see Almighty God, as I shall afterward declare; or rather, as I have declared already; and all things are wont to afflict; all things to weary, & tire; and all things do even torment her, unless it be only God, or for God. There is not so much, as any repose, which doth not displease her; because she finds herself absent, from her true repose; and so it falls-out to be very evident, that things pass not here, in a dissembling way.  
It hath happened to me, in former times, that I found myself, in great tribulations; and I was subject to many detractions, (by occasion of a certain business, whereof I may have cause to speak afterward) from all that House, where I live, yea and from my Order; and I was afflicted, upon many accidents, which occurred then; at which time, it pleased our Lord, to utter these express words to me: Of what art thou afraid? Dost thou not know, that I am Omnipotent? I will accomplish all that, which I have promised thee. And indeed, he accomplished it afterwards, very well. But even instantly, there remained such a kind of strength in me, that, me thought, I could presently have put myself, to adventure upon other things, though they should cost me much more trouble, for the doing him service; and could have suffered also much more, for him. And this very self same thing, hath happened to me so often, that I am not able to count the times; and he hath made me, and makes me still, such reprehensions (by occasion of those imperfections, which I commit sometimes) that they are able, even, as it were, to annihilate the Soul. At least, they bring so much in their company, as that she is mended by them; for, his Divine Majesty (as I have said) doth not only give us the counsel, but the remedy. At other times, he brings back to me, the memory of the Sins of my former life; and this, he most ordinarily uses to do, whensoever he intends, to vouchsafe me any extraordinary Favour. And he doth it in such sort, that the Soul discerns herself, as if she were really planted, at the very Day of the Last Universal judgement; and the truth is represented to her, with such a kind of perspicuity, and clarity, that she knows not, what to do with herself. At other times, he is pleased to inform me of certain dangers, concerning both myself, and others, about things, which do not happen, till three, or four years, after; but they all, were ever fulfilled; and some of them, might also be named, if there were cause. So that, there are so many particulars, whereby it may be understood, that these things are of Almighty God, as that, in my opinion, they cannot but be known, and acknowledged. The most secure proceeding consists, in that, such a person do not fail, to impart her whole Soul, to her Ghostly Father; and that he be a learned man; and that she do entirely obey him. At least, this is the course, which I take; and without this, I could have no rest; nor were it indeed fit, that we women, should have any; since we have no learning; and there can be no hurt at all, in this, but many advantages, and benefits; as our Lord himself hath told me, many times; I say, many times.  
I had once a Ghostly Father, who mortified me very much; and sometimes, he did even afflict me; and brought me a great deal of trouble; and disquieted me, in extraordinary manner; and yet it was he, who, in my opinion, did me the most good, of them all. And though I loved him very much, yet I had some temptations, to leave him; for it seemed to me, that I was much prejudiced, by those inconveniences which he was wont to give me concerning my Prayer. But yet ever, when I was determining to do this, I instantly understood, that I was to forbear it; and I received such a reprehension from our Lord, as defeated, and, as it were annihilated, me more, than all that, which my Ghostly Father, could lay upon me. And sometimes, he tired me outright, with ask me questions, on the one side, and making me some reproof, on the other; and I had need of no less, than all this; so double, and so weak a will I had. He told me once, that it was not to obey, if withal, I were not resolved to suffer; and that I was to cast mine eyes, upon what he had been content toendure for me; and that so, the hardest things, would become easy.  
Another Ghostly Father of mine; to whom I was wont to Confess myself, in the beginnings, gave me once this advice, that, since it had been found by trial, that the Spirit was good, I should now carry things, in absolute silence; and not give notice thereof, to any Creature; for that it was better, to wrap-up these kinds of things in that manner. As for me, I misliked not this; for, whensoever I was to declare them to my Ghostly Father, I grew to be so much troubled, and conceived myself to be so much affronted by it, that I had much less difficulty, to Confess my greatest Sins. And especially, if I were to declare those highest Favours, which our Lord vouchsafed to impart, I thought, they were not likely to believe it, but to make a jest, and scorn of me. But indeed, I was chiefly troubled so much at it, because it seemed to amount to a kind of irreverence, towards the wonders of Almighty God; and for this reason, I would have been glad, to conceal them. But I quickly came to understand, how that Ghostly Father had given me 
* This was a very ill advice indeed.  very ill advice; and that I was, by no means, to conceal any thing, from him, who was to receive my Confessions; because there was much security for me, to deal clearly with him; and that, if I proceeded otherwise, I might perhaps fall into error, at one time, or other. Whensoever our Lord commanded me any thing, in my Prayer, if my Ghostly Father chanced to bid me do otherwise, our Lord would return to command me, to obey my Ghostly Father; and yet again afterward, his Divine Majesty, would direct him, to command me, to do that very thing, which our Lord himself had commanded me to do, before.  
When once they took many Books, written in Spanish, from me, that I might not read them, I was much troubled at it; for, some of them, served me for recreation; and now I was not able to read them, because there were none left there, but in Latin. But then, our Blessed Lord said these words to me: Be not troubled; for I will give thee a Living Book. I could not, for my part, understand, why this had been said to me; for then, I had never had Vision; but within a little while after, I understood it very well; for I have had so much to think of, and to recollect myself about, concerning those things, which I saw before me, and our Blessed Lord hath showed me so great love, as to instruct me, by such a multitude of ways, that I have had very little need of Books, or rather, in effect, none at all; for, his Divine Majesty, hath been that true Book to me, wherein I have, indeed, seen Truths. And now, blessed be such a Book, as this, which leaves that, imprinted in the very hart, which is to be read; yea and so, as that it can never be forgotten. Who can over, see our Blessed Lord, all covered-over with wounds, and afflicted with persecutions of all kinds, and yet, not be contented, to embrace them; yea and to desire them, and to love them? Who can see, though but a very little, of that Glory, which he gives to such, as serve him, and not come instantly to know, that all that, which we can possibly ever, either do, or suffer here, is directly nothing; since we hope for so high a reward? He, who sees the torments, which the damned Souls of Hell, endure, how can he choose, but esteem all the torments of this life, to be a kind of delightful thing, in comparison of those others? and how can he choose but know the mighty obligation, which he hath to our Blessed Lord, for having delivered him, so often, out of that sad place.  
But because I mean hereafter, by the Favour of Almighty God, to speak more of some particular things of these kinds, I now intent to declare, the process of mine own Life; and for the present, I beseech Almighty God, that I may have known, how to express myself in that, which I have said already. I well believe, that whosoever shall have had experience, will have understood me; and will have seen, that I have happened upon saying somewhat, which is to the purpose; but I shall not wonder a whitt, if such, as have none, shall conceive, that I have been talking idly, all this while. It suffices me, to say, as I have said, that so I may remain free, from fault; nor yet, will I blame any other, who shall be of a different opinion. Our blessed Lord give me grace, that I may never fail, in fulfilling his holy will,  
Amen.   

THE SEVEN AND TWENTIETH CHAPTER.  
She treats of another way, how our Lord instructs a Soul and gives her to understand his Will, after a very admirable manner, without any speech at all. She also declares a certain Vision, and great Favour, which our Lord shown her; and this Vision, was not Imaginary. This Chapter is very much to be noted.  
But now, (returning to the Discourse, or Historical part of my Life) I remained with much affliction, and trouble, but it was accompanied with many prayers (as I was saying) which were made to our Lord, that he would be pleased, to conduct my Soul, by some other way, which might be more secure; since they told me, that the former, was, to be suspected. Yet, true it is, that, howsoever I begged it much, of Almighty God, yet considering, how evidently my Soul was improved, by the course which I held before, I could never find it in my power, to desire it heartily, and home, (though yet still, I did it, in some sort) unless it were sometimes, when I was even distressed, and all tired out, by the things, which they said to me; and by the frights, into which they put me. For now, I was wholly grown, to be another Creature; and therefore, I could not cordially desire it. Only I put myself into the hands of Almighty God, beseeching him, that since he knew, what was fittest for me, he would be pleased, to accomplish his holy Will, in all things, concerning me. But now, I saw plainly, that, by this way of mine, which they suspected, my Soul was even carrying-up to Heaven, which formerly was dropping down to Hell; And why therefore, should I desire, that this course might be changed? For, as for believing, that it was of the Devil, it was not in my power, even to constrain myself to it; though yet, I did what I could, to desire, that I might be able to believe it; but it was not (as I said) in my power. I offered, to this end, some little, poor, good works, which I did, if I did any. I became devoted to some Saints; to the end, that, by their means, I might be delivered from the Devil. I performed the Devotions of Nine Days; I recommended myself to S Hilarion, and to S. Michael also, the Archangel, for I had lately applied myself to him, for this purpose; and I importuned also mame other Saints, that our Lord might be pleased, by their intercession, to conduct me, in the way of Truth; I say, that they would find some means, to perfect this business of mine, with his Divine Majesty. In fine, after the end of two years, which, both I, and other persons, had wholly employed, with all their prayers, and mine, in order to this end, that our Lord might be pleased, either to conduct my Soul by some other way, or else vouchsafe to declare, that this way, wherein I went, was right, (for now, those Words, and Speeches, which I have related, that our Lord would be uttering to me sometimes, were grown very ordinary, & even continual) that chanced, and occurred to me, which I will now declare.  
As I was in Prayer, one day (and it was upon the Festivitie of the Glorious S. Peter) I saw, standing very near me, or rather, (to say better) me thought I felt (for indeed I saw nothing at all, with the eyes, either of my Body, or of my Mind) that Christ our Lord was close by me; and I found, in fine, that it was he, in my opinion, who was speaking to me. But now I (who was extremely ignorant, till then, that there might be any such thing, in the world, as such a Vision) fell, at the first, into a mighty fear; and I could do nothing but weep; though yet, through his giving me assurance, by his speaking but one only word, I found myself; as I had formerly been, not only without fear, and very quiet, but even with Regalo, and delight. Me thought, that Christ jesus, our Lord, went ever close to me, on one side; but the Vision not being Imaginary, or represented in any Form, I perceived not, in what shape he was. But as for his being ever, on my right side, I found, and felt that, very clearly; and that he was the witness, of whatsoever I did; and that I could not be recollected, though it were never so little, (or rather indeed, unless I were much diverted, or distracted) but I must needs, in fine, understand, that he was very near me. I than went immediately to my Ghostly Father, being sufficiently vexed, and grieved, that I must let him know it. He asked me, what Form, or Figure he had, when I saw him; and I told him, that I had not seen him. Upon this, he enquired then, how I knew, that it was Christ our Lord. To this I answered, that I knew no more, but that I could not possibly fail, or forbear, to understand, and know, that he was close to me; and that I found, and felt it plainly; and that now, the recollection of my Soul, in Prayer of Quiet, was far greater, and more continual; & that the effects were very different from those others, which I had formerly found; and that the thing was very certain, and clear. For my part, I could do no more, but bring divers Comparisons, whereby to give myself to be understood; but yet certainly, in my opinion, there is none, which can suit very well, to express this kind of Vision. For, as this is one of the highest kind (as I was told afterwards, by a certain holy man, and of great Spirit, called Fray Pedro de Alcantara, whom I shall mention afterward, more at large; (and the same hath been also told me, by other great learned men) and that this, is one of those Favours, where the Devil can least intermeddle, or intrude himself, of all others) so have we here no words, or terms at all, wherewith to declare it; at least we, who know so little; though such as are learned, will, peradventure, be able to do it better. For, when I say, that I neither saw this, with the eyes of the Body, nor of the Mind (because it was no Imaginary Vision) how come I to understand, and how can I undertake, and affirm, more clearly, & certainly, that Christ our Lord was standing near me, then if I had seen him, with my very eyes. For it seems indeed to be, as if a person were in the dark, who sees not another, that stands by him; or as if the same person were blind. Some resemblance, I say, this carries; though yet, not very much. For in this last case, a man may come to know it, by the way of several Senses; because he may hear the other speak, or stir; or he may touch him; But here, there is nothing of all this; nor is there here, any darkness at all; but only the thing is represented to the Soul, by a certain notice, which is more clear than the Sun. I say not, that any Sun is seen, nor any clearness, or brightness at all; but only a certain light, which illuminates, and informs the Understanding (though yet without seeing any light) to the end, that the Soul may enjoy so high a good. Now, this brings great benefits with it. Yet is it not like such a Presence of God, as many times is felt in the Mind; and especially by such persons, as be arrived to Union, and Quiet Prayer; who, in resolving to begin to make that Prayer, seem to find the person ready at hand, to whom to speak; and we seem to understand, that he hears us; by the effects, and spiritual feelings, which we find, of great Love, and Faith, and other firm purposes, and resolutions, accompanied with much tenderness of Denotions. This is a great Favour of Almighty God; and let him esteem it much, who hath it; for it is a very elevated, and high Prayer; but yet, it is no Vision; but here it is understood, that Almighty God is there, by the effects; which, as I have said, he works in the Soul; for, in this manner of Prayer, doth his Divine Majesty vouchsafe, to give himself, then, and there, to be felt. But now, here, it is clearly found, that Christ jesus the Son of the Virgin, is present. In that other manner of Prayer, there are certain influences of the Divinity represented; but here, together with them, we find, that the most Sacred Humanity also of Christ our Lord, doth accompany us, to do us favour. My Ghostly Father than asked me this question: Who told you, that it was jesus Christ? Himself told me so, (answered I) and that many times; but yet, even before he told me so, it was in printed upon my Understanding, that it was he; yea and even before this, he told me so; and yet still I saw him not. If any man, whom I had never seen, but only had heard news of him, should come to speak with me (I being either blind, or in the dark) and should tell me, who he were, I should believe him; and yet I could not so resolutly affirm him, to be that person, as if I had seen him. But yet now, in this other case, I could; for here, there is imprinted, so clear a notice of him, in the Mind, without seeing him, that it seems a kind of impossibility, to doubt it; for, our Lord will have it so engraven upon the Understanding, that it can no more be questioned, then even that, which we see; no nor yet so much; for, in things, which we see, there remains, sometimes, a suspicion, whether we might not have fancied such a thing, and so mistaken it. But here, though upon the sudden, and, as it were, by way of surprise, one may begin to fall upon a kind of suspicion, or doubt, yet still, upon the whole matter, we remain in so great a certainty, as that the doubt continues not, to have place. And so also, doth it fall out; though yet, in a different manner, that God instructs the Soul, & speaks to it, but yet without speaking at all, in such sort, as I have already declared.  
This is a certain kind of language, which hath so much of the Celestial in it, that it cannot well be given to be understood by us here, how much soever we may desire it, unless our Lord himself be pleased to teach it, by experience. For, our Blessed Lord conveys, and places that, in the most interior part of the Soul, which he is pleased, that the same Soul shall understand, and know; and there, doth he represent it, without either any image of his person, or any form of words; but only after the way of that kind of Vision, which I have already touched. And now, let this manner of Almighty God's making the Soul vnderstand, what he will, in the way of great Truths, and mysteries, be much observed. For, many times, that, which I understand, when our Lord declares any Vision, which his Divine Majesty is pleased to represent to me, is after this manner; and me thinks, it is in such occasions, as where the Devil is least able to intermeddle, or intrude himself, for these reasons; and if they be not found, I am likely enough, to be deceived. Now, this kind of Vision, and language, is so inwardly a thing of Spirit, that here, there is no kind of springing, or even stirring, in any of the Powers of the Mind; nor yet in any of the Senses of the Body, in my opinion; by which means, the Devil may be able to make himself the gainer. Thus, I say, it happens sometimes; as namely, when it lasts but a very little while. For, at some other times, me thinks, that neither the Powers of the Mind, are suspended, nor yet the Senses of the Body disabled, but that they are all, at home, and in use. The other, happens not always in this degree of Contemplation, but rather very seldom. I say, that, when they are so lost, we neither operate any thing, nor do any thing; but all seems, to be the work of our Lord. It is, as when a food is already conveyed into the stomach, without either our having eaten it, or so much as knowing, who laid it there; but only we understand well, that there it is; though, in that case, it be neither known, what the food is, nor who carried it thither. But here, it is very differet; for here, the food is known, though yet, how it got thither, I cannot tell; for neither did I see it; nor understand it; nor was I ever moved to desire it; nor had it ever come to my knowledge before, that such a thing, could possibly be.  
In the Speech, upon which I touched before, Almighty God makes the Understanding observe, and reflect, upon that, which is said; whether it desire to understand, or no. For there, it seems, that the Soul hath some other kind of eats, wherewith to hear; & that he makes her hearken, and not, the while, to think of somewhat else; as if one, who could hear well, were not suffered, to stop his ears; and that they cried out aloud, to him, who would therefore be fain to hear them, whether he would, or no; but somewhat, in fine, he doth, since he is attentive to understand, what they say. But here, the Soul doth inst nothing; for, even that little, which was done in the former way, and which was only to hearken, is taken from her now; for now, she finds all dressed, to her hand; yea and all eaten by her, too. So that now, there is nothing to be done by her, but to enjoy. Just so, as any one, who, without ever having learned, or so much as endeavoured to read, and much more, without any studying at all, should find that whole Science already possessed by himself, and that, without knowing at all, either how, or whence it came, since he had never procured to acquire it, with so much, as learning his A. B. C. And this last Comparison, me thinks, declares some part of this Celestial gift; for, the Soul finds herself here, to be grown wise, upon a sudden; and that the Mystery of the most Holy Trinity, and other most sublime Articles, are so exactly declared to her, that there is not any Theologue, or Divine, in the world, with whom she might not adventure to dispute, concerning the truth of those high points.  
The Soul remains here, in such an amazement, that some one such Favour, as this, suffices, to work a total change in her; and to make her love nothing, but only him, who, without any labour at all, of hers, hath made her capable of so unspeakable blessings; and to whom he communicates his secrets; and whom he treats with arguments of so great, and dear friendship, and love, that they 
* The incredible dear sweetness of our B. Lord to a Soul.  endure not, so much, as to be written. For he doth some such kinds of Favour, as might even bespeak a kind of suspicion, and doubt, in the hearer; in regard, that they are of so great admiration; and have been imparted to a person, who hath deserved them so very ill. And, in fine, if we bring not a very Livelie, and even lusty Faith with us, they cannot be believed; and therefore I resolve, to speak of few of those, which our Lord hath been pleased to vouchsafe me, unless I be expressly commanded; and unless it be of some few Visions, which perhaps, may serve, to do good, in some kind: To the end, that any such persons, as to whom our Lord may be pleased to impart the like, may not wonder, and think it impossible, as I did; or else, that so, I may declare the manner, and way, by which it hath pleased our Lord, to conduct my Soul; that being the very thing, which they have commanded me to write.  
Returning therefore now, to this manner of understanding these kinds of things; me thinks, our Lord is pleased, that, by all means, this Soul of ours, should have some notice here, even of that, which passes in Heaven; and that, as Souls do there understand one another, really, without speaking, (which, for my part, I never knew before, (and this is most certainly true) till our Lord, through his goodness, made me see it, and showed it me, in a certain Rapt of mine) So also should it be here, in this world; and that so, Almighty God, and the Soul, might be able to understand one another; and that, upon this sole cause, and reason, in regard that his Divine Majesty is pleased, that they shall do so, without any other artifice, or means; that so, the mutual love, which these two dear friends carry to one another, may be given by them, to be mutually understood. Just so, as in this world, when two persons love one another very dearly, and be endued with a good understanding, and wit, they seem able to understand themselves together; even without, so much as signs; and by only, looking well, upon one another. Thus ought it to be, in our case, since, (without our knowing expressly, how) these two Lovers look earnestly, upon one another, in the face; as the Spouse saith to his Beloved, in the Canticles; for so, I think, I have heard, that it is expressed there.  
O admirable benignity of thee, O Lord, who permittest thyself, to be looked upon, by those eyes, which have abused their sight, so much, as these of my Soul, have done! At least, O my dear Lord, let them now, be accustomed (after this sight of thee) to look no more, upon any inferior, and base Objects; nor let any thing be able, to please them, out of thee. O great ingratitude of mortal Creatures! how far, wilt thou be able, to ative? For now I know, even by experience, that this is literally true, which I am saying, That, whatsoever is possibly able to be expressed by me, is no more, than the very lest part of that Favour, which thou impartest to any such Soul, as thou vouchsafest to bring to such a State, as this. O Souls, which have begun to use Prayer; and you, who have really Faith, and firm Beleif; what blessings, and benefits are you possibly able to seek, and get, which may, any way, be compared, even to the least of those, which are obtained, by the Servants of Almighty God, even in this mortal life of ours? And consider, (for it is most certainly true) that Almighty God imparts himself thus, even here, to such, 
* Observe this, well.  as forsake all things, for love of him. For, he is no accepter of persons, and he loves all men; nor hath any one of them any excuse, how wicked soever he may have been; since our Lord hath proceeded, after this manner, even with me; and advanced me to such a condition, as you see. Consider also, that this, which I am saying now, is not so much as a little Cipher of that, which were to be said; but, only so much is here delivered, as is necessary, for the giving this manner of Vision, and Favour; which Almighty God, is pleased to do to a Soul, to be, in some sort, understood.  
But now, it is in no power of mine, to declare that, which she finds, and feels, when our Lord is pleased, to impart those secrets, and greatnesses of his; together with that delight, which is so highly superior to all those others, which can possibly be imparted by this world; and that they do, with a mighty deal of reason, make them, who possess the same, even abhor all the pleasures of the earth; which, when they be all, clapped together, are no better, then mere dung, and dirt; nay it is, after a sort, even to give one a Vomit, to bring these, into any comparison at all, with those others; even though they should be able to last for ever. And yet, of these Celestial joys, what kind of poor proportion of them, is that, which he is pleased, to impart, in this world? No more, then, as it were, one slight, single drop of water, of that huge full, flowing River, which is prepared for us, in Heaven. It is a very shame, & scorn; (and really I employ it all against myself; (and if it were possible, for Souls to be affronted, even in Heaven, I should have cause to find myself ashamed when I were there, more than any Creature) to think that we should expect, to enjoy. 
* This Saint you see, was certainly no Protestant.  so great benedictions, and delights, and glory, as is to be infinite in that next Life, and all, at the only cost, of our dear Lord JESUS. And shall we not weep, perhaps, at least, with the Daughters of jerusalem, since we will hot help him to carry the Cross, as Simon Cyreneus did? Or can we ever think of coming to enjoy that, by the way, and means of pleasures, and pass-times, which he vouchsafed to get, and gain for us, upon the price of his own most precious Blood? This is absolutely impossible. And can we think, by our aspiring to vain Honour, that we may be able to remedy, and redress that huge contempt, and scorn, which he endured for us? There is no manner of sense, in any such conceit. No, no; the course is utterly mistaken; and we shall never be able to arrive, at that journey's end, by any such erroneous way, as this. Your Reverence must cry-out aloud, to make these truths be heard, and believed, by the world. And since it hath pleased Almighty God, to take this power, and liberty, from me, I would always be crying them out, to myself; but both he heard me, and I came also to understand him, so very late, as may be seen, by what I have written here; and it is no less, than matter of extreme confusion to me, to speak of it; and therefore I will now hold my peace; and, for the present, will only say that, which I have been considering sometimes; which is, that I humbly beseech Almighty God, to bring me once, to such terms, as that I may enjoy this immense Good. O what an accidental glory, and gust, will it be, for the Blessed Saints of Heaven, who enjoy this felicity, when they shall find, that, although it were late, yet at length, they left nothing unperformed, which it was possible for them to do, for the love of Almighty God? Nor did they fail, to present him, with the very uttermost of whatsoever they could offer, in all kinds, according to the power, which they had, and to the condition, wherein they were placed; he giving them still more, who had more. How rich will he then, find himself to be, who left all the riches he had, for Christ our Lord? How full of honour, who rejected all honour; and took no pleasure, in any other thing, then to find himself abased, and despised, for the love of him. How wise will he see himself then, who rejoiced to see the world, hold him for a fool; since they called Wisdom itself, by that name? But how few of such, as these, are there now, in the world, by reason of our great Sins? Alas, it seems, that all they, are spent, and gone, long ago, whom the world was wont to esteem for mad fools, when they saw them perform those heroical acts, of true Lovers of Christ our Lord. O world! O world! How dost thou go gaining Honour, by procuring, that few may have the wit, to understand thee right? But now, to what a pass are we come, since some will needs conceive, that God is the 
* The Masque of Pride.  better served by them, when they get themselves to be held, for discreet, and wise? yea this indeed, must needs be so, as now we are grown to understand the word, Discretion. For, now, we will needs make ourselves believe, that it is matter, forsooth, of small edification, not to go, up, and down the world, with great authority, and composition of clothing, and dressing; every one, according to his condition. Nay even to the Friar, and Priest, and Nun, some are now grown to be of opinion, that, to wear any thing, which is old, or pieced, were a kind of novelty, and a giving scandal to the weak; and so it is also now, if they live with much recollection, and use Mental Prayer. To such a pass, the world is grown. But the study, and practise of Christian Perfection, & the great impulses, which the Saints were want to have, for the obtaining thereof, is the thing, which, I believe, doth more harm to the miserable, & wretched actions, which are committed by evil men, in these times, than it could possibly be of scandal, to any Creature, that such, as are Religious, should publish that, to the world, by their works, of which they talk by their words; to the end, that so, Mankind might grow to hold this world, in mean account. For, out of such kinds of scandal, as these, our Lord would draw great service, for himself, & good, for them. And if some men would needs be scandalised at it, others would yet have remorse; & at least, we should remain with some little design, or draught of that, which Christ our Lord, & his Apostles, endured for us, since we have now, more need of it, than ever.  
But O, what an excellent example, did Almighty God take lately from us, in the person of that Blessed man, Fray 
* An admirable example of Penance.  Pedro de Alcantara? The world was now no longer able, even to endure such a Perfection, as his; for now, forsooth, they say, that the health of men, is grown weaker; and that now, we do not live in those former times. But that holy man, lived in this time, and yet, he had as full, and great Spirit towards Almighty God, as men had in the days of old; and so, he trod the world down, under his feet. And though every body do not go barefoot, nor perform so sharp, and strict penance, as he, yet are there many other ways, as I have said before, whereby a man may tread the world, under his feet; and our Lord, will teach us these ways, when he finds, that a man's mind is fit, and well-prepared for them. And how great an one, did Almighty God bestow upon this Saint, of whom now I speak; to go, through seven and forty years of his life, with so sharp, and rigorous penance, as is generally known? And I will say some little thing of it, because I know, that it is all, most certainly true.  
He told me a certain particular, and so he also did an other, from whom he was as little curious to conceal himself, as from me; but as for me, the only reason, why he did it, was the love he bore me; because our Lord, would have it so; to the end, that he might help me, and encourage me also, in a certain time, of so great necessity, as I have related. And now I will declare, how, to the best of my remembrance, he said, that he had slept, but one hour and a half, in the four and twenty hours, of day, and night, for two and forty years together; and that it was the greatest mortification, and trouble of penance, that he had felt, in those beginnings, to overcome himself, in point of sleep; and that, in order also to this end, he was always, at other times, either standing upon his feet, or else kneeling; and that only, when he slept, he sat; and that with his head, leaning aside, upon a certain little piece of wood, which was fastened for that purpose, in the wall. To extend his body at length, in his Cell, was not possible for him, though he should have a mind to it; for it is known, to have had but four foot, and a half, in length. In all these two and forty years, he never put on his Capouch, or Hood, how hot soever the Sun, or how great soever the rain might be; nor did he ever wear any thing upon his feet; nor was his body clad, but only with a Habit of thick, course Sackcloth, without any other thing at all, upon him; and this was so very strait, as that he might be only able, to put it on, with a little short Mantle of the same, upon it. He told me, that, when the weather was extremely cold, he was wont to put off his said Mantle, and to leave also, the door, and the little window of his Cell, open; that so, when afterward, he put the Mantle on again, and shut his door, he might give his body, so much contentment by it, as that it might be quieted, without more clothing. It was a very ordinary thing with him, not to eat, till the third day, after he had eaten last; and he told me (by way of answer, to the wonder, in which I was at it,) that this, was a thing very possible, for one, who would accustom himself to it. And a certain Companion of his, also told me, that it happened for him sometimes, not to eat any thing at all, in eight days; but that, perhaps, might happen, when he was in Prayer; for, he used to have great Rapts, and vehement impulses, or impetuosities of the love of Almighty God; whereof myself was once an eye-witness. His poverty, was extreme; and so also was his Mortification, even from his youth. For he told me, that, in his time, it had happened to him, to live three years, in some one House of his own Order, and yet, not to know any one of the Religious, of the same House, but only by their speech; for he never liftedup his eyes; and so, whensoever he was to go, of necessity, to any place, either in the streets, or upon highways, he could, by no means, tell, how to do it, but by following the other Religious. As for women, he never looked upon any of them, for the space of many years; and told me, that it was just all one with him, to see any body, or not to see them. When I came at length, to know him, he was very old; and his weakness, and leanenes so extreme, that he seemed, not to be composed, & made, but as even of the very roots of trees. With all this sanctity of his, he was very affable, though yet he were wont to express himself, in very few words, unless it were by occasion of some questions, which might be asked him; and in that case, he was excellent company, for he had a very choice Understanding. I could have a mind, to say very much more of him, if I feared not, that your Reverence would ask me, why I put myself upon this kind of discourse; yea and I have not written even this little, without some fear. And therefore I say no more, but only, that he died, as he lived, in preaching, and admonishing the Religious of his Order. And when he saw, that he was even come to an end, he said the Psalm of: Laetatus sum in his, quae dicta sunt mihi: in domum Domini ibimus; I have rejoiced in that, which they have said to me: we will go into the house of our Lord; and so, stooping dough, and kneeling, he died.  
After this, our Lord hath been pleased to let me enjoy more of him now, than I did, when he was alive; for, he gives me counsel, in divers occasions; and I have seen him many times, in extreme glory. The first time, that he appeared to me, he said: O how happy penance was that, which hath obtained so high a reward! with many other things of that nature. A year before he died, he appeared to me, when we were absent, from one another; and it was declared to me, that he should die; and I advertised him thereof, whilst he was distant some leagues, from me. At the instant, when he expired afterward, he also appeared to me, and told me, that he was then going to rest. I did not believe the thing; but yet I related it to some; and within eight days after, the news came to us, that he was dead; or rather, to speak more properly, that he had then, begun to live for ever.  
And here, behold, how the severe Penance of his life, was finished in so large a proportion of glory, that me thinks, he is of more comfort to me now, then when he was here. Our Lord told me once, that men should not ask any thing, in his name, wherein he would not hear them; and myself have recommended many to him, to the end, that he might beg them of our Lord; and I have found them granted. Let the same Lord be Blessed for ever; Amen.  
But what a talking have I kept here, that so I might stir your Reverence up, not to make the least account at all, of any thing, in this world, as if you knew not this, already? or, as if you were not resolved to leave it all? or rather, as if you had not already put all this, in execution? But I see such a deal of perdition in the world, that howsoever my saying it, serves for nothing, but only to weary me, by writing it, yet withal it is a kind of unwearying, and ease for me, to do it; and so, all that, which I am saying, proves to be against myself. Our Blessed Lord forgive me, whereinsoever I may have offended, concerning this particular; and I beseech your Reverence also, to pardon me, for incommodating you, to little purpose; but it seems, that I will needs make you do Pennance, for that, wherein myself commit the Sinne.   

THE EIGHT AND TWENTIETH CHAPTER.  
She treats of the great Favours, which our Lord did her; and how he appeared to her, the first time. She declares, that it was a Vision, which shown itself by way of the Imagination; and discovers, the great effects, and testimonies, which such things leave in the Soul, when they are of Almighty God. This Chapter is of great instruction, and deserves to be noted, much.  
But now, to return to our purpose, I had that kind of Vision aforesaid, for some few days, after a kind of continual manner; and it was so useful to me, that I never went then, out of Prayer; and besides, whatsoever I then happened to do, I procured it might be in such sort, as that it should not displease him, whom I evidently saw to be there, as a witness of all that, which passed. And though it be very true, that sometimes, I had some fear, through the multitude of those things, which they would be saying to me, yet that trouble would not use to last long; because I was well assured, and satisfied, by our Lord himself.  
Being one day in Prayer, it pleased our Blessed Lord, to show me his Hands, and nothing but his Hands; and they had such an excess, and height of beauty in them, as I am not able, by any means, to express. But this, struck me into a very great fear; as, indeed, every novelty is wont to bring me, in the beginnings of any Supernatural Favour, which our Lord is pleased to do me. Within few days after this, I saw also his Divine Face; which did totally, me thinks, leave me absorbed. For my part, I could not understand, why our Blessed Lord showed himself to me so, by little and little; since afterwards, he resolved to do me the Favour, that I might see him, all; till I came to understand, that our Lord went guiding, and conducting me, according to my natural weakness. And let him be eternally Blessed for it; since so great, and high Glory, as that, all together, encountering with a Subject, which was so base, and wicked, as myself, would never have been endured; and thus our Blessed, and Merciful Lord, went so disposing of things, as I have here expressed. Your Reverence will, perhaps, imagine, that there was no need of much courage, and strength of mind, for the beholding of a Face, and Hands, which were so beautiful. But yet it is to be understood, that such Bodies, as are 
* Humane frailty, and celestial glory, are not compatible.  glorified, have so very great a height of beauty, that the glory, which they bring, to behold a thing so delightful, and Supernatural, doth even, as it were, exceed our capacity; and so, consequently, I grew to be all, in much disorder, and trouble; though yet afterwards, I remained with certainty, and security, and such other effects, as that all fear did quickly vanish.  
Upon a certain day of S. Paul, whilst I was hearing Mass, the whole Humanity of Christ our Lord, was represented to me, as it uses to be painted, after the Resurrection; but with so great Beauty, and Majesty, as I wrote once to your Reverence, when you commanded me so expressly to do it; and I remember, that I was troubled enough, at it. For, in fine, those things cannot be done, without a body's even annihilating herself, who doth them; but yet howsoever, I did, what you commanded me, the best I could; and therefore I need not take care, to repeat it, so parparticularly, now. Only I will declare thus much, that, if there were no other thing, even in Heaven, to give delight, and gust, to our sight, but only the excessive beauty of Glorified Bodies, that felicity would be even immense; but especially, to behold that most Sacred Humanity of jesus Christ our Lord, must be matter of incomparable Glory. For, since the Majesty thereof, is discovered to be so great, whensoever it is represented to us here, according to that proportion, where of our misery, in this mortal life of ours, is capable; what, do we think it will then occur to be, when we shall so very entirely be admitted, to enjoy so high a Good. This Vision, though it be Imaginary, (or representing itself, by way of Mental Image, to the Imagination) was never seen by me, by these eyes of my Body; nor indeed, was any other Vision, that I ever had, but only, by the eyes of my Mind. And they, who know these things, better than I, affirm, that the former Vision, is of a higher, & more perfect kind, than this; and this also much more, than those others, which are seen, by these eyes, of Flesh, and Blood. For, these latter, they say, are of the lowest 
* Imaginary Visions represented to, & by the senses are of the lowest rank, & most subject to danger.  kind of all, and wherein the Devil is able to induce & impose most Illusions; though yet then, I could not understand any such matter; but rather desired, that, when I was to receive any Favour of that kind, it might be so, as that I might see it, with my corporeal eyes; to the end, that my Ghostly Father, might no longer tell me, that I did but fancy such things. And so it happened also to myself, as soon as it was passed (but it was even, as it were, but at the very instant) that even myself also conceived, that I did but fancy it indeed; and so I was a little troubled sometimes, for having told my Ghostly Father, as I did; as doubting, whether I had not deceived him. And now, this was the occasion of another lamentation of mine; and so I went to him again, and told him of it. Upon this, he asked me, whether indeed, I had thought so, before; and whether I had any purpose to deceive him. As for me, I told him, what I held to be the truth; I, who (forasmuch as I am able to understand of myself) had no mind at all, to lie; nor intended any such matter, as that; nor would I, for the whole world, have told him any one thing, for another. Now this, did he know very well; and so he did his best, to quiet me. But I had so great aversion from going to give him trouble with these things, that I know not, how the Devil could make me, for my greater torment, conceive, that I had feigned, in what I had said.  
But our Lord made such haste to do me a Favour, and to unfold this truth to me, that I grew quickly, to be out of all doubt, whether it were a thing of fancy, or no; and since that time, I see my folly very clearly. For though I should employ many years, in conceiving, how I might be able, to figure a thing of so extreme beauty, I should never have either the power, or the wit, to do it; for, it did far exceed all that, which can possibly be imagined in this world, by the very clearness, and brightness thereof. Nor yet is it any such brightness, as dazzles; but a brightness, which is accompanied, with a most sweet kind of beauty; a brightness, I say, there is infused, which gives extreme delight to the sight, and which is far from wearying it; nor doth the light thereof, also offend, whereby we see this object of so Divine Beauty. This, I say, is a light, so very different from all that, of this inferior world, that even the brightness of the Sun itself, which we see, is so dim, and dull a thing, in comparison of that clarity, and light, which is represented to our sight, by this means, that even the eyes would searce open themselves, to behold it. For it is, as if it were a most pure water, running all upon Crystal, with the Sun reflecting upon it, and striking through it; in comparison of some other, which were of a muddy kind, and in a cloudy day; and which were running also upon earth. Not yet, that there is any Sun represented in it; nor is that Light, like the Light of the Sun; for, in fine, this Light of the Vision, seems a very natural Light; whereas the other is but a kind of artificial thing, in comparison thereof. This is a Light, which never sets; but as it is ever Light, so is there nothing, which can disturb it; but in fine, it is a thing of such a kind, as that, how sublime soever the understanding of any Creature might be, he would never, in all the days of his life, be able to conceive rightly, what kind of thing it were. And it pleases Almighty God, to set it before us, so very speedily, that we cannot open our eyes so soon, if that were needful for the seeing it; but it helps us indeed, no more, in this case, to have them open, then shut. For, whensoever our Lord is pleased, we see it, even whether we will, or no. Not is there any distraction in the world, which may be able, to divert us from it; nor is there any power, which can resist it; nor is there also, on the other side, any manner of care, and diligence, which may suffice to procure it; and I have had good experience of this, as I shall find a fit time to declare.  
But that, which I would fain relate now, is the manner, how our Blessed Lord is pleased to show himself, by these Visions. I say not, that I will declare, in what sort, this so strong a light may be able to convey itself, into the inward sense, and to imprint so exact, and clear an Image, upon the Understanding, as to make it directly seem, to be very there; for, this point belongs to such, as are learned; and our Lord hath not been pleased, to give me to comprehend the manner of it; and, in myself, I am so very ignorant, and of so gross an Understanding, that, howsoever men have endeavoured much, to declare it to me, I have not yet, been able to conceive the way, and manner of it. And this is very certain, that, howsoever it may seem to your Reverence, that my Understanding is lively, and quick, yet there is really no such thing; and I have found, what I am about to say, to be true, by the experience of many particulars; that, namely, it embraces, and comprehends no more; then just that very thing, upon which they will have it feed. Yea and sometimes, he, who was my Confessarius, would be even amazed, at my ignorances', in many kinds; and he never made me understand. nor did I, indeed, desire to know, how Almighty God did this; or how this could be; nor did I ask him about it. Though yet, as I have said, I treated many years, with men of great learning, to know, whether this, or that, were a Sin, or no; for in this, I was not wanting; but as for the rest, I then had no need, to stand thinking of more, than that Almighty God was the Author of all; and I saw, that I was now, not to wonder at aniething, but only to consider, how many reasons I had, to praise him. Nay, the things, which carried difficulty with them, did breed devotion, in me; and the more difficulty, the more devotion. But I will therefore now, declare that, which I am come to understand, by experience; namely, how our Blessed Lord doth this; and your Reverence will express it better, and will unfold all that, which you may find obscure, and I, not know, how to deliver.  
It seemed to me, indeed, in some respects, that it was an Image, or distinct representation, which I saw; but, in many other; no; but rather, that it was Christ our Lord himself; considering the excessive kind of clarity, wherewith he vouchsafed, to impart himself to me. And yet sometimes, it was after so undistinct a manner; that me thought, it was a Representation, or Image; but yet still, not like those designs, and draughts, or Pictures of things, which are made here, how perfect soever they may be; for I have seen, both very many, and very good ones, of this kind. But it is a very great impertinency, to conceive, that any one of them, comes home, to the life; but, how well soever they be drawn, they will never yet arrive to reach the Natural in all respects; for, in fine, the one is alive, and the other, is dead But, let us lay this aside, though yet the relation of one, to the other, hold very well. And still I say not, that I frame a Comparison, between Christ our Lord himself, and that, which I said I saw; for, Comparisons never agree so perfectly, and entirely, as these two things did. But the truth is, that there is the same difference, in what I saw, from any Image, which there is between a thing, that lives, and a thing, which is painted. And if you will needs have this, to have been an Image, I am sure, it was a living Image, and not a dead man, but Christ alive; and it gives me also to understand, that he is both God, & Man; and that, not so as he was laid in the Sepulchre, but as he was afterwards, in the Resurrection. And sometimes, he comes with such an immense kind of Majesty, that no Creature can be able to doubt, but that it is our very Lord himself; and especially, after my receiving the Blessed Sacrament; for, than we know well, that he is there, since we understand it by Faith; and this seems, to be the same Lord, with that. An he shows himself then, for so true, and entire a Lord, of that little house, that the whole Soul, sees herself, to be even dissolved, consumed, and annihilated, in Christ our Lord.  
Dear JESUS! and how should one be able, to give the height of that Majesty, to be understood, wherewith thou comest to show thyself, in these occasions? and how absolutely doth the Soul resolve, that thou art the Lord of the whole world, and of the Heavens; and of a thousand worlds; and of innumerable Heavens, and worlds, which thou caused create; considering that high Majesty, with which thou representest thyself, to her? For than she knows, that all this world is just nothing, in respect of that, whereof thou deservest to have dominion. Heer, O my JESUS, doth the Soul see very clearly, that it is but a beggarly kind of power, which the Devils have, in comparison of thine; and how he, who is so happy, as to please thee, may tread all the power of Hell, under his feet. Here the Soul finds the reason, which the Devils had, to tremble, when thou didst descend to Limbus Patrum; and how they would have wished, to have been rather, in thousands of other, and lower Hells, then to have endured the sight of so high a Majesty, as thine. But I perceive, that thou art here, disposed, to let our Souls see, how potent thou art; and how great, the power of thy most Sacred Humanity is, when it is accompanied by thy Divinity. 
* The great effects of an admirable, and most sublime Vision.  Here is it well represented, what kind of thing, the Day of judgement will be, where we shall see the mighty Majesty of this King; and behold his great rigour, towards the wicked. Heer, is true Humility laid up, and left in the Soul, by seeing her own misery, whereof now she can be ignorant no longer. Heer, that confusion, and true repentance for Sin; where, even when she is seeing, how greatly our Lord shows her his love, yet knows she not, where to dispose of herself, but is, as it were, even annihilated, outright. I say, this kind of Vision, is of so excessive power, and strength, when our Lord is pleased to show a Soul so eminent a portion of his Majesty, and greatness, by it, that I hold it for an impossible thing, (unless our Lord should be pleased to assist her, by making her remain in Rapt, and Extasis, and so to lose the Vision of that Divine presence, by the act of enjoying) that any mortal Creature, should be able to endure it, at the present; though yet afterward, it is no impossible thing, to forget it. And yet, still, this can not be wholly forgotten; in regard, that that Majesty, and Beauty, is so very deeply imprinted there; but only, when our Lord is pleased, that the Soul shall suffer some such great kind of dryness, and solitude, as I will declare afterward; for than it seems, that even one forgets Almighty God himself. But howsoever, the Soul is grown now to be clearly, another kind of thing, than what she was before; and is always, as it were, even steeped, and bathed, in Almighty God; and there seems, in my opinion, to be a new, and more lively kind of Love, communicated to her, in a very high degree. For, though that kind of Vision aforesaid (which I declared, to represent Almighty God, without any Image) be a thing more sublime, and high, in itself, yet, for the making it continue long, in our memory, and to entertain, and keep our thoughts well employed, so great is the weakness of our condition, that it makes very much to our purpose, when so Divine a Presence, as that, of our Blessed Lord, is represented, and lodged, in the Imaginative part of our Mind. And therefore, these two kinds of Visions, are wont to come always, together. And indeed, it is thus, that they come. For, the excellency, and beauty, and glory, of the most Holy Humanity of Christ our Lord, is beheld, with the eyes of the Soul. And by that other way, which is now declared, we grow to be given to understand, that he is God; and powerful; yea and omnipotent; and that he commands, and governs all things; and that his love, doth even replenish them all.  
This kind of Vision, is to be valued, at a very high rate; and it is also, in my opinion, without danger; for, in fine, it is discerned by the effects, that the Devil hath no power at all, heerin. And yet it is true, that three, or four several times, he hath had a mind, to represent our Lord himself to me, after this manner; that is to say, by way of such a false kind of representation. For, he takes the form of Flesh; but it comes not within the compass of his power, to counterfeit it, with any such kind of glory, as when it is indeed of Almighty God. The Devil is wont to make certain representations, for the destroying of some true Vision, which the Soul hath seen; but so also doth she her best, to resist the vexations, which he gives her; though then, she be so disquieted, and disordered, even by this very diligence, that she loses that devotion, and gust, which she had before; and remains also, without any Prayer at all. This happened to me, three, or four times, in the beginning, as I was saying. But this, of the false Vision, is so very different a kind of thing, from the other, that, whosoever hath arrived to the only Prayer of Quiet, will, I believe, understand this business, by the very effects, which have been spoken of, in that Discourse, which concerns those Words, or Speeches, which sometimes are imparted to, and imprinted in, the Soul. And I hold this assertion to be a most certain thing; and unless a Soul should have, even a kind of mind, to be abused, and deceived, I believe, the Devil will not be able to do it, if she walk with humility, and simplicity; that is; with sincerity of mind.  
Whosoever, I say, hath received any true Vision from Almighty God, will instantly perceive, and judge 
* The difference is easily found, both between a true Vision, and a false; and between a true Vision, and a Fancy.  of another, which is contrary, and false; for, though any such false one, may begin, to give a kind of Regalo, and gust, yet the Soul will shake that off; and besides, in my opinion, the gust will be, even different, in itself; and, not carrying so much, as an appearance of a Love, which is pure, and chaste, it grows to be soon discovered, from whence it comes. So that, wheresoever there is any experience, the Devil will not be able, to do any Soul hurt, in this kind.  
But now, that all this kind of Vision, should be be but a mere Imagination, or conceit, is clearly, and entirely, an impossible thing; and hath no colour at all. For, the high beauty, and fairness, of one only hand, doth absolutely outstripp all Imagination. And besides, without our ever having thought of any such object, or reflecting upon any one of this kind, to see such things present, and all at an instant, which could never have been so fitted, and adiusted, by the Imagination of man (in regard, that it is so mightily of a superior kind, as I have said, from that, which we are able to comprehend in this world) it must also be impossible, for the aforesaid reason. And yet, though we could do somewhat of this kind (not withstanding all that, which is said) it would yet, not be possibly done, upon this other reason, which I will now declare. For, if we should represent any such thing, in the strength of our own Understanding (besides, that it would not have any such great operation, as this true Vision hath; nor indeed would it, in effect, have any at all) it would be at the most, but as one, who would very fain grow to sleep; whereas yet, he should, indeed, be awake; because he cannot yet fall asleep. But if he desire to sleep, and have need of it, and withal, have any infirmity, or weakness, in his head, which forbids it, he yet procures, of himself, to get into a slumber, and uses all his diligences, in order to that end; and sometimes, he even half thinks, that he doth somewhat. But still, if, in very deed, it be not true, and real sleep, it will not sustain him, nor give strength to his Head; Nay rather, it will, sometimes, fall out to be so much the more idle. And just so, is it also partly, in this case; for then, will the Soul grow empty, and idle, and not be sustained, and strong, but rather disordered, and disgusted; whereas, in the other former case of ours, it is passed any power of mine, to declare, what treasures are acquired; when not only the Soul is enriched, but even the Body also itself, gets temper, and health.  
Now, this reason, with others, did I allege, when they told me, sometimes, that those things were of the Devil; and, at other times, that I did but fancy them to myself. And this happened often to me, and I would also, be bringing certain Comparisons, the best I could; and our Lord made me light upon them; but yet all served me still, to little purpose; for, there being very holy persons, in that place, and I being even misery itself, in comparison of them, and our Lord not guiding them, by this way, they would instantly be growing into fear, that my sins, in all appearance, were the means, to produce those effects; and so, it went, up, and down, from one to another, in such sort, as that they came to be acquainted, with these secrets of mine; though, for my part, I discovered them to no Creature, but only to my Ghostly Father; or to such, as he directed me, to impart them.  
But I remember, I said to them once, that if they, who told me these things, had related to me, that some person, with whom I had been much acquainted, and with whom I had spoken but very then, had not yet, been that person indeed, but that I had only fancied it to myself, and that they knew it for certain; I should without all doubt, have much more easily believed them, than even the very thing, which I saw. But 
* A plain demonstration.  yet now, on the other side, if that person had left certain jewels with me, and that they remained still, in my hands, as pawns of the great love he bore me, and that formerly I had been the owner of no such jewels, whereas now I saw, I was rich, who before, had been so poor, I should then, not be able to believe them, even though I desired it, especially, when I could show these jewels of mine, to others. For every body knew me well enough, and they saw clearly, that my Soul, was grown to be another kind of thing, then before; and so I told mine own Ghostly Father. For, the difference was come to be great, in many kinds, and not in any doubtful, or disguiseable manner; but so, as that all Creatures might discern it clearly. And I remember, also, that I was wont to say, that I could not tell, how to believe, that the Devil would do this, to deceive me; and how, since he would be glad to carry me away with him to Hell, he could serve himself of this means, which was so very contrary to his own end; Namely, to roote-out Vice, and to plant Virtue, and strength of Spirit, in place thereof; for I found, and that very clearly, that I grew, once, at an instant, to be wholly another Creature, than I was before.  
My Ghostly Father, as I was saying, was a Father of the Society of JESUS, and a very holy man; and he also made the same answer to others, as I came to understand afterward. He was a person of much discretion, and of great humility; but yet, that humility of his, grew to cost me a great deal of trouble. For, though he were a man of much learning, and besides, of great Prayer, yet put he 
* In order to the guideing of others, a Director may easily have too mean an optnion of himself.  no trust at all, in himself; and, our Lord not guiding his Soul by this way, he was subject to much trouble with me, in several kinds. And afterward I came to know, that they wished him to take heed of me, and to be careful, lest the Devil should deceive him, by making him believe any part of that, which I should tell him; and to this purpose, they would be alleging the examples of some others, to him. All this gave me vexation enough; and, by degrees, I came so far, as to fear, that I should grow scarce able, to find any body, who would hear my Confessions; but that every one would be flying from me, in this kind. So that, for my part, I did nothing but weep; and it was the providence of Almighty God, that this Father, would yet still continue to hear me. But indeed, he was so great a Servant of our Lord, that there was nothing which he would; or suffer, or his sake; and so he would still be advising me, to be sure, not to offend Almighty God; nor to swerve from the directions, which he gave me; and that I should not fear, that he would fail me; and still he would also be animating, and quieting me; and ever he would, in particular, command me, that I should conceal nothing from him; which I always observed; and I doing thus, he would always tell me, that the Devil would be able, to do me no hurt; but rather, that our Blessed Lord would not fail, to draw good, out of that ill, which the Devil would be attempting, to do my Soul. This Soul of mine, did I procure to perfect, to the uttermost of my power; and, as for my Ghostly Father, I did (through the fear of Illusions, wherein I was) obey him, in all things; though yet, but after an imperfect manner. But he had trouble enough with me, when I confessed myself to him, in these difficult times, which lasted above the space of three whole years; for, in the great persecutions, which I had, and in many things, wherein our Lord permitted, that the world should make ill judgements of me, (and many of them, without any fault of mine) I would ever be coming with them, to him; and he was blamed, in respect of me; whereas yet he was in no fault at all. I think it would have been wholly impossible, that he should have endured it, so long, if he had not been a man of much sanctity; but our Lord did animate him greatly, and enable him to endure so very much. For he was still, to make answer to all them, who held me to be a lost Soul; but they believed him not; and on the other side, he was also to take care, to quiet me, and to recover me out of that fear, wherein I was, by frighting me, with a greater; and besides, he was also to endeavour to satisfy me, in another respect; in regard, that, upon every Vision, which was new to me, our Lord was pleased to permit, that afterward I should be subject, to very great fears. Now, as all this proceeded, both from my being, and having been, a very great Sinner: so yet would he comfort me still, with much piety, and compassion. But yet still, if he had confided as much in himself, as he might well have done, I had not suffered so much. For, our Lord gave him to understand the truth, in all things; and I am persuaded, that the very Sacrament of Penance, which I frequented with him, gave him light.  
Those other Servants of Almighty God, who could not make themselves sure of my well-doing, were wont to be very conversant with me. And when I would casually be speaking, now, and then, of some things, they would be understanding them, after a different manner. Now 
* This Saint was hugely vexed, by the insatisfaction which she received from many Spiritual men.  there was one of these, whom I particularly loved; for, my Soul was infinitely obliged to him; and he was a very holy man. For my part, I was extremely troubled, to see, that I could not make myself be understood rightly, by him, whilst he also, on the other side, did extraordinarily desire my good; and that our Lord might once vouchsafe, to give me light. And so, when I would be relating some things to them, without much reflection upon what I said, it would seem to them, to be a sign of little humility, in me; and as soon, as afterward, they discerned me, to commit any one single fault (whereas they might very easily have discerned many) all grew instantly to be condemned by them. Sometimes, they would be ask me certain questions; and I would answer them, with plainness, and without much reservation, yea or even reflection; and then, forsooth, they would be thinking, that I had a mind to teach them; and that I held myself, for some shrewd woman; and upon this, would they all, go instantly to my Ghostly Father; for certainly, they desired my good; but yet then, would he grow, to chide me. And this, lasted a long time, I being afflicted many ways, on the one side; and yet, being, on the other, so visited by the Favours of out Blessed Lord, as I found myself to be, I was indeed very well able, to endure that other misery.  
And now I relate all this, to the end, that it may the better be understood, how very great a trouble it is, not to have some such person at hand, as hath experience, in the way of Spirit. So that really, if our Blessed Lord, had not favoured me, in such sort, as he did, I know not what would have become of me, at length; since there were occasions enough, to have put me, even out of my wits; and sometimes, I saw myself in such terms, that I knew not, what to do, but only, to lift-up mine eyes, to our Lord. For, as the contradiction, and opposition of such, as were good, and worthy men, towards a poor, weak, and wicked woman, like myself, and so timorous, as I also was, may, perhaps, seem, to be scarce worth the relating: so yet, I having passed through very many, and great troubles, in this life of mine, I have found this last, to have been of the greatest. I humbly beseech our Blessed Lord, that I may have been able, to do his Divine Majesty, some little Service, even in this; for that they, who accused, and condemned me, did him Service in it, I am very sure; and that it all, hath turned to my good.   

THE NINE AND TWENTIETH CHAPTER.  
She prosecutes the Discourse, which she had begun; and relates some high Favours, which our Lord was pleased to do her; and what his Divine Majesty did further, for the securing, and encouraging her mind, and for the enabling her, to answer her Contradictours.  
I Have swerved very much, from my purpose; for I pretended to declare the reassons, whereby to prove, that the thing, whereof I spoke, was not matter of Imagination; for, how should we be able, by means of any endeavour, or study of ours, to represent the Humanity of Christ our Lord, to ourselves; and to go ordering, and disposing of his great beauty, for which there would be need of a large time, if we would pretend, to frame any thing, which should be like it. Well may one represent it, to his own Imagination; and stand looking upon it, for some time; and consider his shape, and complexion; and so go perfecting it, by little and little; and recommending that Image over to his Memory; for, who can take this power, from the mind? And thus much am I able to do, by the strength of mine own Understanding; But in that other, whereof we were speaking, there is no means for this; for we must behold that, just then, when our Lord is pleased, to represent it to us; and just also, what he will, & how he will; Nor is there, in this case, any means, either to add, or diminish any thing, how much soever we may endeavour it, either towards the seeing it, or forbearing to see it, when we will. For, 
* This is very fit to be known  whensoever we shall dispose ourselves, to fix our sight fast, upon beholding any particular thing, the sight of Christ our Lord is instantly lost. It happened to me, two years, and a half, that very ordinarily, Christ our Lord was pleased to vouchsafe me this Favour; and it is now, more than three, since he hath deprived me of the so continual use of this Vision, by affording me another, of a higher kind; as perhaps I shall declare afterward. And I finding, that he would be speaking to me; and I, the while, beholding that extreme beauty of his, and observing the suavity, with which he uttered those words, by that most Lovely, and Divine mouth; and sometimes also, with rigour; whilst I, in the mean time, had a kind of extreme desire, to see the colour of those eyes, and the size, and shape, which they had; to the end, that I might be able to relate the same, to my Ghostly Father, I could never yet, obtain to see them; and my diligence would not serve to procure it, but the Vision was rather absolutely lost. And though 
* This is a true Fortiter sed Suaviter.  it be very true, that sometimes, I see, he looks upon me, with a kind of sweetness, and compassion; yet this spectacle is of so mighty a force, that the Soul is not able to endure it, but remains in so high a Rapt, that, to the end she may the better enjoy the whole, she wholly loses the sight of this most beautiful object. So that, in fine, and in order to this end, it serves to little purpose, either to will, or not to will, any thing here; and it grows to be clear enough, that our Lord looks for nothing, in these cases, but for humility, and confusion of ourselves; and for a mind, to take that, which is given; and to praise him, who is pleased to impart it. And it holds, in all true Visions, without exception, that a Creature can do nothing at all, either towards the more, or the less; and that all our diligences, put together, are neither able to do any thing, nor undo; for, our Lord will have us see, very clearly, that this is no work of ours, but only of his Divine Majesty; and so, as that we are little moved, to be the prouder, by them; but they rather make us more timorous, and more humble; whilst we find, that as our Lord deprives us of a power, to see that, which we desire, so he can also, take these Favours, yea and his grace, from us too, in such sort, as that we may be utterly lost. We must therefore be, always, walking on, with fear, as long as we shall live here, in this banishment.  
Our Lord hath almost ever, represented himself to me, as after his 
* This Saint was most strangely familiarly, and supernaturally visited by our B Lord.  Resurrection. He hath also done it sometimes, in the Sacred Host. Sometimes, for strengthening me, when I chance to be in tribulation, he shows me his Wounds. And sometimes also he vouchsafes that I should see him just so, as he was upon the Cross; and sometimes, as in the Garden; yea and also, some seldom times, with his Crown of Thorns, upon his Head; and at other times, carrying his Cross. Yet this, as I was saying, uses to occur, but in the time of some necessity, either of mine own, or of others, but yet always, as a Glorified Body. And I have suffered affronts, and vexations enough, in declaring these things; and have grown subject thereby, to great persecutions, and fears. They made themselves so very sure, that all this, was the Devil, that there wanted not certain persons, who wished, that I might be Exorcifed, for that purpose; yet this gave me very little trouble. But the thing, which I felt, in good earnest, was either, when my Ghostly Fathers were afraid to hear my Confessions, or else, when I came to know, that they were told tales. But yet still, upon the whole matter, I know not how to make myself sorry, for having seen these Celestial Visions; nor would I give any one of them all, for all the greatnesses, and delights, of this whole world; for I ever held these things, to be a very great Favour, of our Lord; and I esteem them, to be an excessive kind of treasure; yea and our Lord himself hath assured me thereof, many times. Withal, I found myself grow hereby, to love his Divine Majesty very much; and so, to him, would I ever be going to complain, of all the troubles I had; and I always came out of Prayer, both with comfort, and addition of strength. As for them, I would not presume, to contradict them; for I saw, it made things worse, as seeming to them, that it was want of humility, in me; but I communicated them still, to my Ghostly Father; and whensoever he found me afflicted, he was careful, that I should receive much comfort, from him.  
As my Visions grew-on to increase, one of them, who assisted me before, who was a man, that used to Confess me sometimes, (when the Sub-Rectour was not in the way, to hear me) began to tell me, how it was most certain, that it was the Devil; and then, they grew to 
* A strange Task, which was put, even by holy men, upon this Saint.  command me (since there was no other means, to resist him) that I should always be Crossing, and blessing myself, when I should chance to see any Vision; and that I should use some exterior action, or sign of scorn, that so he might be sure, I held him certainly, to be the Devil; and that, perhaps, by this means, he would come no more; but that yet, I should be afraid of nothing, because God would keep me still, and would also take that temptation from me. Now, this was painful enough to me; for, considering that I could not possibly believe, but that it was Almighty God, this proceeding was very terrible for me to undergo. Nor was it also possible for me, as of myself, to desire, that it might be taken from me; but yet, in fine, I performed all those acts, which they commanded; and I besought our Blessed Lord, with much instance, to free me from it; and I did it, with abundance of tears. I begged it also, by the prayers of S. Peter, and S. Paul; in regard, that I having had the first of all my Visions, upon the Day of their Festivitie, our Lord himself vouchsafed to tell me, that they would so take care of me, as that I might not be deceived. And accordingly, I have often seen (and that very clearly, though yet not by way of any Imaginary Vision, or represented person) these two Glorious Saints, who are so much my good Patrons, standing by me, upon my left hand; and that, after a very evident manner. But now, this order of those others, to make signs of contempt, and scorn, whensoever I had that Vision of our Blessed Lord, did put me to a mighty kind of pain; for, when I saw him present, before mine eyes, it was impossible for me to believe, that it was the Devil, though they should have torn me into a thousand pieces, to make me do it; and therefore, it was a strange kind of Penance, which they put upon me. But now, to the end that I might not be so perpetually Crossing myself, I took a Cross into my hands; and this, I did, in effect, always; but, indeed, I used not those signs of scorn, so very often; for, that afflicted me, too much. For I well remembered the affronts, & injuries, which the jews had put upon our Lord; & so I humbly besought him, to pardon me, if I did the like, since I did it, by way of Obedience, to them, whom he had appointed, in his own place; and I prayed him, not to lay it to my charge, since they were the persons, whom himself had placed in his Church. He told me then, that I should not be troubled at it; and, that I did well, in obeying them; and, that he would bring them, at length, to understand the truth. But when they for bad me to use Prayer, me thought our Lord was grown angry at it; yea and he bade me tell them, that this was a very tyranny in them; and he gave me also ways, how to make me know, that this was not a work of the Devil; and I will touch upon some one of them, afterward.  
When once I had the Cross in my hand, which was at the end of my rosary, he took the same, into his; and when he gave it me again, it consisted of four great Stones, incomparably more precious, than Diamonds; for, there is no such thing, in this world, as that, which goes in the Supernatural way; and a Diamond, is but an imperfect, and counterfeit kind of Stone, in comparison of those others, whereof I speak. Now, these Stones had the Five Wounds of our Blessed Lord, in them, after a most curious making; and he told me, that I should see him, just so, from that time forward; and so I did; and now, I no longer saw the wood, whereof the Cross was made, but only these precious Stones; and yet so, as that no other saw them, but myself.  
When 
* The more she was discountenanced, even by good men, so much the more highly was she favoured by our Lord.  they began to command me, to make these trials, or proofs, and to use resistance to those Favours, they grew on, to a higher increase; for, though I might have a mind to divert myself, yet I never was out of Prayer; nay, me thinks, I was in Prayer, even whilst I slept; for here, all was growing-on, and growing-up, in the love of our Blessed Lord; and the making also of a pitiful kind of complaints, which I uttered to him; and my not being able to endure it; nor was it in my power (though I had desired it; and least of all, when I procured it) to give over, my thinking upon him. But yet still, I obeyed them, as well, as I could; though yet I were able to do little, or nothing therein. Now, our Lord did never free me, from obeying them; but, howsoever it be true, that he commanded me, to do as they bade me, he yet gave me assurance otherwise, yea and instructed me also, about what I should say to them; and the same he doth also, to this day; and he taught me so concluding reasons, of all things, that they gave me all sufficient assurance. And now his Divine Majesty hath begun, very lately, to perform, what he had been pleased to promise me before; as namely, to assure me yet better, that it was he; for there grew in me, so great a love of Almighty God, that I knew not, how it could get into my hart; and it was of a very Supernatural kind; nor was it I, who procured it. I then found myself, even as it were, to die, through a desire, wherein I was, to see Almighty God; nor could I come to know how I might be able, to seeke-out this kind of life, but by the way of death. There came upon me so great impetuosities, or impulses of this love, that, howsoever they were not so insupportable, not yet altogether of so high value, as those others were, which I related before, yet knew I not, what to do with myself; for, nothing could now give me satisfaction; nor was I able, even to contain my very self; but really, it was with me, as if my Soul had been directly torn out of my Body.  
O most admirable kind of artifice of our Lord! what manner of choice, and delicate industry, is that, which thou art pleased to use towards this miserable Slave of thine? For, thou didst hide thyself from me; and yet withal, didst even then, press upon me, so very close, with thy love, by giving me such a delightful, and savoury kind of death, as that the Soul, by her good will, would never be delivered, from the same. Whosoever hath never tried, and felt, these so great impetuosities of Divine Love, it is impossible, that he should be able, to understand them; for, this is not a kind of restlessness of the breast, or hart, nor any of that kind of devotions, which are wont sometimes, as it were, to stop the breath; in such sort, as that the Soul is not able to contain herself; But, this is an inferior kind of Prayer, to that; and heerin we are to procure, to remove such kind of promptitudes, and vehemences, as those; and to endeavour, to retire them sweetly, into themselves; so to appease, and calm the Soul. For, this 
* A rare Comparison.  is, in some sort, as when little Children cry, and sob sometimes, so thick, as that they are even ready to choke; and when the Nurse gives them drink, that excess of their passion, and expression, begins to cease. And so in this case also, is Reason to take the bridle into the hand; for perhaps, the very natural condition, and constitution of the person himself, may be the thing, which contributes somewhat, to this state of mind, at that time. And therefore, let consideration be used, for fear lest all should not be perfect; and lest a very great part thereof, fall out to have some what of the Sensual, in it; and let this Child be stilled, by some Regalo, or other, of Love, which may induce it, to exercise, and express the love itself, which he also bears, by a moregentle, and sweet kind of way; and not thus, as it were, by going to cuffs. But let them go retiring that very love of theirs, into the more inward part of the Mind; and not suffer it to pass on, and out, so far, like some Pot, 
* Still, more & more excellent comparisons.  which doth first, so boil up, and then, so boile-over, as that the broth, or water, is quite spent, and lost, because no discretion was used, in the quantity of wood, or coals, which was put under it. And thus, let them procure, to appease, and slake the flame, which is fed by that vehement fire, with sweet, and gentle tears, but not with such, as are forced, or painful, as they are wont to be, which proceed from such a vehement kind of sense, as I have formerly expressed; for, such are wont to be of very great inconvenience, to the Party. Myself used to have such as these, in my beginnings; and they would ever leaué my head, in such disorder, and my Spirit, in such a weariness, and weakness, that I was not able, sometimes for a day, yea and sometimes for more days than one, to return to the exercise of Prayer. So that 
* An excellent, & most necessary Advice.  we are to use great discretion, in those beginnings of ours, to the end, that all may go on, with much sweetness; and that the Spirit may be taught the way of operating, and exercising itself inwardly; and we must diligently procure, that the exterior may be avoided, as much as we can. But now, these other impetuosities, and impulses, are of a most different kind, and condition; for here, it is not we, who bring-in the wood; but; the fire seems to be made already, to our hands; and instantly we are ready, to cast ourselves into it, that so we may be wholly consumed. The Soul doth not here procure, to make herself feel the wound, which grows to be made in her, by the absence of our Lord; but they drive sometimes, a sharp Arrow into the very liveliest part of the hart; in such sort, as that the Soul herself, is not able to tell distinctly, either what she ails, or even what she desires; only she knows very well, that she desires, and loves our Lord; and that the said Arrow seems to be touched, and rubbed-over with some bitter herb, or other, to make her even hate herself, through the love of this Lord, and to wish, with all her hart, that she might lose her very life, for his sake.  
It is 
* A strange mixture of affections, but such as God knows how to give.  not in our power to express, and, much less, to relate with advantage, the manner, how God approaches, and arrives to such a Soul, as this; or the excessive pain, that he gives; which makes her not to know, even what to do, with herself. But yet, this very pain, is such a savoury kind of thing withal, that there is no delight in this whole world, which is able to give her more gust. For, the Soul, as I was saying, would always be very glad, if she might be ever dying, of this Disease. This pain, and glory together, did carry my Understanding into such such distraction, and disorder, that I knew not, how they both, could possibly consist together. O what a thing it is, to see a Soul so wounded! for, it is just in such sort, as that one may very well affirm it, to be wounded; and that, for a most excellent cause; for now she sees very clearly that she herself did contribute no part of the reason, why this Love should grow; but only it seems, that some little Spark fell down upon her, from that immense Love of our Lord, which set her, so totally, on fire. O how often do I remember that Verse of David, whensoever I find myself in this case? Quem admodum desider at ceruus ad fontes aquarum, ita desiderat anima mea ad te, Deus meus; As the Hart desires to plunge himself, into the Springs of water: so doth my Soul desire thee, O my God. For really; me thinks, that this is even literally fulfilled then, upon myself. Whensoever this comes not upon me, with great violence, me thinks, I can a little appease my Soul; and at least, she is proving to find some remedy. For, as for the performing of certain Pennances, she finds not almost, in that case, for what they serve; for, they all are felt by her no more, nor puts it her to any more pain, to shed her blood, than it would, if she were directly dead. But, in that case, she is in earnest search, after the finding-out some new ways, or means, how she may be able, to suffer much, for the love of our Lord; but, so great is that other former 
* This grief is after the rate of the love.  grief of mind, that I know not what Corporal torment can possibly be able to drown it; for, the remedy thereof consists not, in such things, as these, since these medecines, are of too inferior a kind, for the perfect cure of so deeply-rooted a Disease. We receive, indeed, some little ease; and the affliction passes away, to some small proportion, by this means, and by begging also the remedy of her misery, at the hands of our Blessed Lord; though yet, for her part, she knows not, how to find any at all, but only, in death; for, by that means, she hopes, entirely to enjoy her Sovereign Good. At other times, this pain falls upon a Soul, so fiercely, that neither this, nor any thing else, can be done; for it peirces the whole body, through, and through; and neither can the hands, or feet be stirred; nay, if we chance to be on foot, and may happen sometimes to sit down, we do it, like a kind of transported Creatures; Nor can the Soul so much as breath, but only utter certain profound, lamenting sighs, which yet are not great in show, because she is not able to express them, though yet they be very great, in themselves.  
It pleased our Blessed Lord, that I should have sometimes, this following Vision. I saw an Angel very near me, towards my left side, and he appeared to me, in a Corporeal form; though yet I am not wont to see any thing of that kind, but very rarely. For, though Angels be represented often to me, it is yet, without my seeing them, but only according to that other kind of Vision, whereof I spoke before. But, in this Vision, our Lord was pleased, that I should see this Angel, after this other manner. He was not great; but rather little; yet withal, he was of very much beauty. His face was so inflamed, that he appeared to be of those most Superior Angels, who seem to be, all in a fire; and he well might be of them, whom we call Seraphins; but as for me, they never tell me their names, or ranks: yet howsoever, I see thereby, that there is so great a difference in Heaven, between one Angel, and another, as I am no way able to express. I saw, that he had a long Dart of gold in his hand; and at the end of the iron below, me thought, there was a little fire; and I conceived, that he thrust it, some several times, through my very Hart, after such a manner, as that it passed the very inwards, of my Bowels; and when he drew it back, me thought, it carried away, as much, as it had touched within me; and left all that, which remained, wholly inflamed with a great love of Almighty God. The pain of it, was so excessive, that it forced me to utter those groans; and the suavity, which that extremity of pain gave, was also so very excessive, that there was no desiring at all, to be rid of it; nor can the Soul then, receive any contentment at all, in less, than God Almighty himself.  
This is no Corporall, but a Spiritual pain; though yet the Body do not fail, to participate some part thereof; yea and that, not a little. And it is such a dear, delightful kind of intercourse, which passes here, between the Soul, and Almighty God, as I beseech him of his infinite goodness, that he will give some touch, or taste of it, to whosoever shall believe, that I lie. During the time, when I was in this state, I went, up, and down that world, like an odd kind of transported Fool; neither cared I, either to see any thing, or to speak; but contented myself to consume, with burning-up in my pain, which was to be the greatest glory for me, that this whole world could afford.  
In this state was I, now, and then, when our Blessed Lord was pleased, that these so very great Rapts, should come upon me, which I was not able sometimes to resist, even when I was in presence of Secular people; and so they grew to be public; and this gave me a very great deal of trouble. But, since the time that I am grown to have these Rapts, I feel not this pain so much as that other, whereof I spoke before; though yet I cannot call the Chapter to mind. But that pain, is different in many kinds; and of more value also, than this; Or rather, when this begins, whereof I am speaking in this place, it seems, that our Lord doth ravish, and run away, as it were, with the Soul, and put her into Extasis, out of hand; and so, no too me is left, for the letting her feel any pain, because instantly, the time of enjoying, comes in. Let him be Blessed for ever, who vouchsafes to impart so high Favours, to a person, who corresponds with him so ill, for so great benefits.   

THE THIRTIETH CHAPTER.  
She returns to recount the course of her Life; and how our Lord gave remedy, to many of her troubles, by bringing that holy man, Fray Pedro de Alcantara, of the Order of the Glorious S. Francis, to the place, where she was. And she declares the great temptations, and inward troubles, which sometimes she endured.  
But now, when I came to observe, the little, or nothing, which I was able to effect, towards the enduring, of those so great impulses, or impetuosities, whereof I was speaking, I grew to be in great fear of having them; for it was passed any power of mine, to understand, how Pain, and joy, might be possibly able, to consist together. That, Corporal pain, and Spiritual joy, could be compatible, I know well, might be possible enough; but, that so excessive a Spiritual pain, should be compatible with so excessive a Spiritual gust, did put me half, as it were, out of my wits. And still I did not give-over to procure, to resist the arrival thereof; though yet I had so little power that way, that sometimes I grew weary, even of the endeavour. I defended myself, by the Cross, and so procured to help myself, by that means, from him, who gave us all defence, and succour, by the same Cross. I saw, that no Creature understood me; and this I understood very clearly, though yet I durst not say so, to any body, but my Ghostly Father; for, that, indeed, might have authorised them to say truly, that I wanted humility.  
But our Blessed Lord was pleased to recover me, from a great part of my trouble; yea and even at that time, from it all, by bringing that blessed man, Fray Pedro de Alcantara, thither, of whom I made mention before, when I spoke somewhat of his great Penance. And now I also remember, that, amongst other things, I have been informed, that, for twenty years together, he had worn, upon his bare Body, a certain Garment of Latin, in form of a Hair Cloth. This man was the Author of certain little Treatises, concerning Prayer, written in Spanish; and they are now in the hands of many. For he, as being a person, who had accustomed himself much, to that holy exercise, wrote very profitably thereof, for them, who live in the Observance of the First Rule of the Blessed S. Francis, according to the full rigour of the same. When therefore a certain Widow, of whom I spoke else where, (who was a great Servant of Almighty God, and a particular friend of mine) came to know, that so great a man was there, with me; and knew also the great necessities, wherein I was, (as having been the witness of my afflictions) and had comforted me, in several occasions, (for, her Faith was ever so great, that she could never, in fine, believe, but that it was the Spirit of Almighty God, which all the rest, would needs have to be the Devil) and considering also, that she was a person of very good understanding, and of great secrecy withal, and one, to whom our Lord vouchsafed to do great Favours in Prayer) his Divine Majesty was pleased, to give her knowledge of those things, whereof they, who were Learned, were wholly ignorant. My Ghostly Fathers than gave me leave, that I might ease myself, in some things, with her; for she was capable, many ways, to understand them; for sometimes, it had come to her turn, to enjoy even some of those very Favours, which our Lord had also vouchsafed to afford me, together with certain advertisments, which he had also given her, for the good of her Soul. But now, as soon as Fray Pedro came to know of my design, he did (without saying any thing to me) desire, and get leave of my Provincial, that I might remain with her, in her House, for a matter of some eight days; and so, both there, and in several Churches, I spoke with him, divers times, in that first occasion of my being there; for I communicated my affairs with him also afterward, in sundry occasions, at which time I gave him likewise account of my life, (though yet, but in a summary way) and of the manner of my proceeding in Prayer; and this, with the greatest clarity, which I could possibly use; for, this property I ever had, to treat with all clarity, and truth, with them, to whom I imparted my Soul; yea and I still desired, that even the first motions of my hart, might be made known, to them; and as for such things, as might be subject any way, to suspicion, or doubt, I still was wont to argue them, 
* A very safe and wise way of proceeding.  against myself, with the strongest reasons, that I could bring. So that I imparted my Soul to this Father, without any manner of duplicity, or disguise at all; and I found, that he understood me, almost even at the very first, by experience; which was indeed, the only thing, whereof I had need, at that time; for then, I could not give myself so well, to be understood, as now I can; at least not so far, as to express it home. For, since that time, it hath pleased our Lord, to enable me to understand, and to declare to me, the Favours, which his Divine Majesty doth me; but formerly, it was necessary enough for me, to find a person, who had passed through the same things, by experience; if I would hope, that he should perfectly understand me, and declare to me, what every thing was. Now, this Father gave me very great light; for I could not, by any means, understand, what that could be, which concerned those Visions, which were not Imaginary, or represented by the Imagination; and me thought also, that I understood as little of those others, which I saw with the only eyes of my Soul, for, as I have said before, those only, which were visible, by our Corporeal eyes, seemed to me, to be indeed, of importance; and of these, I had received none at all.  
But now, this holy man, gave me light in all; and declared it to me; and required me, not to be troubled any longer; but that I should bless, and praise Almighty God; and that I was to be very sure, that these were true effects of his Spirit; and that, although it were no Article of Faith, yet nothing could be more certainly true, nor which I might more firmly believe. And he comforted himself very much, with me; and showed me all courtesy, and favour; and ever after, he had great care of me; and he communicated divers of his affairs, and businesses, with me. And finding, that I had the selfsame desires of those things, which he had already put in practice, (for indeed, in as much as concerned desires, our Lord had given them to me, with great resolution) and finding also, that I was so full of courage, in order to that end, he took particular contentment, to treat with me. For, whensoever our Blessed Lord is pleased to bring one to this State, there is 
* This is a most certain truth.  no joy, or comfort, which can be equal to the meeting with some such other person, as to whom our Lord hath been pleased, to vouchsafe some beginning thereof; for then perhaps, I had not much more, than a beginning, by what I may be able to conceive; And I beseech our Blessed Lord, that I have it vet. But as for him, he had extraordinary compassion of me, and told me that one of the very greatest afflictions of this life, was that, which I had endured; Namely, the opposition, and contradiction of good men; and that still, I would be a little obnoxious, in the same kind; because I must ever be in need of help; and that he feared, there was no body in that City, who would understand me. But, that he would speak with my Ghostly Father, & to one also of those others, who was wont to give me most discomfort; which was, that married Cavallier, of whom I spoke before. For he, as being a person, who loved me, perhaps, more than the rest, did continually make war upon me; and he was a man of a tender, and holy Soul; and considering, how lately before, he had found how wicked I was, he knew not, how to make himself sure, that all was right.  
But now, the holle man Fray Pedro, grew to talk with those two persons, aforesaid; and he showed them causes, and reasons, why they should, both quiet, and assure themselves, and disturb me no more. As for my Ghostly Father, there was no very great need of much diligence; but as for the Cavalier, it sufficed not for him, to hear what Fray Pedro said; though yet, it were a means, to keep him from frighting me, so very much, as he had done before. But then, we resolved together, that I should write to Fray Pedro, of all that, which might succeed to me afterward; and to recommend one another much, to Almighty God; for, so great was his humility, as to make some little account of the prayers of this miserable Creature; which gave me confusion enough. But he left me, with extreme comfort, and gust, and directed me to proceed securely on, with my Prayer; and to make no doubt at all, but that it was of Almighty God; and that, whensoever I might be in any doubt, for mine own greater security, I should impart whatsoever occurred, to my Ghostly Father; and that then, I should hold myself for safe. But yet, notwithstanding all this counsel, I was not able, to be entirely secure; because our Lord was pleased, to guide me still, by the way of fear; which sometimes made me apt to doubt, that the Devil had a hand in the business, whensoever they would needs tell me, that it was so. And thus indeed, upon the whole matter, no Creature was able to give me, either so much security, or so much fear, as to make me yield more credit to either of them, than our Lord was pleased to infuse into my Soul. So that, howsoever this holy man did help me, both to quiet, and comfort, yet did I not so entirely believe him, as to remain without any fear at all; especially, when our Lord came, sometimes, to leave me in certain troubles of mind, which I shall instantly relate; yet howsoever, (as I was saying,) my comfort was then much increased. But I could not then satisfy myself, with giving humble thanks enough to Almighty God, and to that Glorious Father of mine, S. joseph, who (as I was apt to think) had brought Fray Pedro thither; for he was Commissarie General of the Custodia of S. joseph; to whom, as also to our B. Lady, I used to recommend myself much.  
Now it had happened to me formerly, sometimes, (yea and so it doth also yet, though not so often) to find myself in so excessive troubles, and afflictions of Mind, together with fierce infirmities, afflictions, and torments of Body, that I knew not, which way to turn myself. At other times, I have been subject to corporal miseries, which were more grievous; but yet, not finding myself subject then, to the sense of such sorrows of mind, as now I have, I passed with much alacrity, through them all. But whensoever they, of both kinds, came together, the misery of it was so great, as that it gave me affliction enough. And as for those great Favours, which our Lord had been pleased to do me, I then forgot them all; and there only remained but such a kind of memory of them, as of a thing which I had dreamt; and this served but to give me so much the more pain. For, the Understanding grows, in those cases, to be all obscured, and dulled; in such sort, as that it made me enter into a thousand suspicions, 
* Here follows a whole world of sad temptations & troubles.  and doubts, as if I had not formerly understood things well; and that perhaps, I followed fancies, in stead of truths; and that it might have been misery enough, for me, to be deceived myself, without seeking to abuse, and cozen so many good men; and I seemed to be so very wicked, that me thought, all the mischiefs, and Heresies, which had been raised, and brought lately into the world, were but the fruits of my Sins. But, this is a false kind of humility, which the Devil invented of purpose, for my disquiet, to try, if he could bring my Soul to despair. And I know so well, by experience, that this is a trick of the Devil, that now, when he finds, that I understand him, he torments me not so often heerin, as he was wont. The certainty of this truth, is clearly found, by the restlessness, and disquiet, wherewith he begins; and by the bussling, which he keeps in the Soul, all the while it lasts; and by the obscurity, and affliction, which he brings to it; and by the dryness, and indisposition to Prayer, which he leaves after it; and, in fine, because it produces no good effect at all; for he seems even to stifle the Soul, and to bind even the Body also up, that so it may be good for nothing; whereas, by true Humility, though the Soul know itself to be wicked, and is in pain, to consider what we are; and makes us hold our Sins to be as great, and as greatly to be exaggerated, as hath been said; and that they are felt indeed to be such; yet comes not this kind of sense, with any tumultuous disorder; nor doth it disturb, and vex the Soul, nor obscure her, nor give dryness to her; but rather it regales her, and behaves itself in a very contrary way; with gentleness, with suavity, and with Light. She 
* The difference betweme Divine, and Diabolical grief of mind.  is troubled in some sort, on the one side, even for that she is comforted, to see, how great Favour our Lord imparts to her, in letting her feel that pain; and to consider, how well employed it is; and the sorrows, for whatsoever she hath done, against Almighty God; But yet, on the other side, she exalts, and admires his mercy; she hath light, wherewith to put herself to confusion; and to praise his Divine Majesty, for vouchsafing to endure her so long. But in that other kind of Humility, which the Devil brings, there is no light, for any thing, which is good; but it seems, as if God were ready, to put all the world, to fire, and sword. The Devil represents the Divine justice to the Soul; and though he permit her to believe, that God hath mercy, (for the Devil hath no such power, as to destroy her Faith) yet hath she even that, in such sort, that it is no comfort to her, at all; but rather, when she beholds God's great mercy, he makes it serve her, for so much the greater torment, because she seems to have been obliged thereby, to have served Almighty God, so much the more.  
This is an invention of the Devil, and that of the most painful, and subtle, and disguised, that I have ever found; and therefore I would wish your Reverence (if perhaps, he may procure to tempt you hereafter, in this kind) to look upon it, with a Light in your hand, and to procure to know him well, if he leave you understanding enough, for doing it. And believe not here, that Knowledge, and Learning will serve the turn; for though I be in want enough of all that, yet now, when I am gotten out of his reach, I am grown to understand very well, that all his discourse, is but foolery; And that, which I understand also, is, that sometimes our Blessed Lord is pleased to give way, and permit it; and he allows him leave, to do this, as he did, that he might try, and tempt job; though, because I am so wicked, he permits not, that it be done to me, with so much rigour.  
It happened to me once, (and I remember very well, that it was upon the day, before Corpus-Christi Eve, (a Festivitie, to which I am devoted, though yet, not so much, as were fit) and at that time, it lasted with me but one day, but at other times, for a week, and a Fortnight, yea and sometimes, three weeks, and peradventure more, and especially in the Holy Weeks, which were wont to be my Regalo, in point of Prayer) that me thought, he 
* The way & manner of a great desolation.  catched-up, and even carried-away my Understanding, at an instant, for certain things sometimes, so very trivial, and light, that, at other times, I would but have laughed at him, for his pains; and then he makes her stoop, to whatsoever he lists; and the Soul remains, as it were, nailed to the place, without being Mistress of herself, or being able to think of any thing, but those impertinent fooleries, which the rempration represents; and indeed, they have no substance at all; nor do they either bind, or lose, but serve only to choke the Soul, in such sort, as not to suffer her to subsist, in herself. And really, it is true, that it hath happened to me sometimes, to conceive, that the Devils go playing with a Soul, as men would do with a Ball; and she, the while, is without any means at all, to deliver herself, out of their power. Nor can it be expressed, in what a deal of sufferance she is, by this means. She walks in search of some defence; and Almighty God permits, that she may find none. She only, and ever remains, with the Faculty, and Power of her freewill; though yet, not fair, and clear, but as if a man had eyes, which were shut; or as if some person, who had gone very often, by any way, and so, though it were night, and dark, yet, by the marks, which he had formerly taken, knows where he may be in danger to stumble; because formerly he had seen the same paths, by day, and so, he secures himself from that danger. In like manner, doth it occur to the Soul, which now seems, but merely by custom, not to offend Almighty God; for, I speak not here, of that protection, which our Lord affords her, though yet, that be the thing, which imports most. But, in the mean time, our Faith is deadened; or at least, laid asleep; as the other virtues also are, in such times, as those; though yet, they be not utterly lost; for, she well believes, even then, that Doctrine, which the Church teaches; and she pronounces it also with her mouth; whereas yet, on the other side, the Devil doth so press, and dull this Faith, that she seems to have but such a kind of knowledge of God, as men have a notice of things, which are spoken of, in their hearing; but yet, from very far off. Her Love also, is so very Lukewarm, that, if she chance to hear Almighty God spoken of, she harkens in such a kind, as to believe indeed, that he is that, which he is, because the Church declares it; but yet, she hath utterly lost all memory, of whatsoever she hath experimented of him, in herself. For her, to go and pray, and remain in Solitude, is but to increase her affliction; for, the torment, which she feels in herself (and yet, without knowing very well, why) is an unsupportable thing, in my opinion; and indeed, it is a kind of picture, in little, or rather a pattern of Hell. And this is most certainly so; as our Lord himself was pleased to give me to understand, once, in a certain Vision. For here, the Soul doth even burn herself up, of herself, without her knowing, either by whom, or by what way, she is set on fire; or yet, how to escape from thence; or finally, how to quench it; for, as for seeking to help herself by reading, she will be able to profit by it, no more, then if she could not read at all.  
It happened to me, one day, to read the Life of a Saint, so to see, if I could swallow the juice, and substance thereof; and thus to comfort myself, with the consideration of what he had suffered; and so, I read half a dozen lines of it, four or five times over; and yet, though all were written in mine own Mother-Toung, I understood them less, in the end, than I did in the beginning; and so I gave it over. This happened to me many times; but I more particularly remember this one.  
To apply ones-self to conversation, in such times as these, is yet worse; for, the Devil fills us then, with such an untoward, and harsh kind of spirit of anger, that it seems to me, that I could even eat folks up, since I can do nothing else; yea and me thinks, I acquitt myself well, in that I forbear to do it; and that God also shows him, who is in this case, a particular Favour, in preserving him from doing, or saying somewhat, against his Neighbour, whereby he might prejudice him, and offend Almighty God.  
And now, as for going to my Ghostly Father, at such times; it is certain, which I shall here relate; and it hath happened to me, very often; That, notwithstanding they were some great Saints, with whom I have dealt, and yet deal; they uttered such harsh words, and chidd me after so sharp a manner, that, when afterward, I would take occasion to repeat them, in their own hearing, themselves would be even amazed, at themselves; and they told me, it was no longer, in their power, to do otherwise. For, though they fully resolved within themselves, not to do it; and at other times, that they had not only compassion of me, but even a kind of scruple also, in themselves, to treat me thus, when I was so full of affliction, both in Body, and Mind; and though they had even resolved, to comfort me, with much compassion, and pity, yet, in fine, they were not able, to do it. Not yet, that they gave me ill language, in such sort, as to offend Almighty God, by it, but they would use words, as full of disgust, as could possibly be heard, from Ghostly Fathers. But belike, they intended to mortify me; which though at other times, I could pass over, or at least, endure, yet then, it grew all, to be a torment.  
But yet sometimes, I came also to be of opinion, that even I had deceived them; yea and myself would go to them, and advise them, in very great good earnest, that they should take heed of me, lest I deceived them. Not, but that I knew well enough, that I would not do it, on set purpose, and upon design, nor tell them, by any means, any lie; but the truth is, I was afraid of all things. There was one, who hearing of this temptation of mine, advised me, not to be troubled at it; for, 
* A pretty humour.  though I should have a mind to cozen him, yet he had wit enough, to defend himself, from me.  
That, which sometimes gave me great comfort, and, as it were, constantly, or, at least, most ordinarily, was, that I used to have some kind of respite, after I had Communicated; yea and sometimes, even in approaching to the Blessed Sacrament, at the very instant, I should grow so very perfectly well, both in Body, and Soul, that it did even amaze me. For, it seemed, to be no other thing, then that all the darknesses of my Soul, were dispersed, and discharged at an instant; and that, upon the approach of the Sun, I quickly came to discern those fooleries, wherein I had found myself, all that while.  
At other times, by the hearing of some one word, which our Lord was pleased to say to me, and with only expressing himself thus; Be not afflicted; and be not afraid, as formerly I have related, I remained most perfectly well; and sometimes, by seeing some Vision, I became, as if I had never felt any inconvenience. And in those cases, I would be entertaining, and regaling myself, with Almighty God; and would, even kindly complain to him, against himself, for permitting me to suffer so great torments; though yet I must confess, that he had first meant, to make me very good amends; because, these difficulties, did never use to arrive, but after a great abundance of Favours. And me thinks, he ordains things so, to the end, that the Soul may appear like gold, which comes refined, and pure, out of the Crusible; and that so, she may see our Lord, in herself; and then, do those troubles, which arrive, grow to be accounted little, though they seem insupportable, at the time. And we desire, that we may return again, to suffer, if our Lord may be served the better, by it; yea and to admit also of more tribulations, and persecutions; Provided always, that they may happen, without offence of our Lord. Nay, we rather will rejoice in suffering for him; for, all will, in the end, bring more profit; though yet, for my part, I could never bear them, as I ought, but rather with abundance of imperfection. At other times, these troubles would come upon me, in other kinds; and so, as that me thinks, it is absolutely a kind of impossible thing, for me to think then, of any thing, which is good; yea or so much, as to desire, to do any such thing; for that I have both a Body, and a Soul, which is absolutely untoward, and good for nothing. But at those times, I am not subject to those other temptations, and disquiets, but only to a disgust in all things, though I know not, why; so that nothing can give contentment to my Soul. And then I would be sometimes procuring, to divert, and employ myself, upon the performing of some good works, in the exterior way; and I would do so, even half, whether myself would, or no. But, in fine, I am come, at length, to know, by such means as these, how very little any Soul is worth, whensoever the grace of Almighty God, is hidden from her. And this kind of consideration, used not to put me to any trouble at all; for, the beholding mine own baseness, after this manner, was wont to give me a kind of satisfaction.  
At other times, I find myself so, as that I am utterly unable, to frame any distinct, or form conceit of Almighty God; nor indeed of any good thing, after a stayed manner. Nor am I able then, to put myself in Prayer, though I be never so much alone; though yet, I feel still, that I know there is a God; and I find also, that it is my Imagination, and my Understanding, which do me so much hurt, in these occasions, and cafes; for, as for my Will, me thinks, it stands right in me, and that it is disposed to all goodness. But this Understanding of mine, is so entirely lost, that it seems to be no other thing, than some furious, and mad kind of Fool, whom no body is able to bind; nor am I so far Mistress thereof, as that I can make it quiet, for one Credo.  
Sometimes I fall on laughing; and yet then, do I know my misery, and stand looking upon my Soul, and permit her to do, what she will; and yet, our Lord be thanked, she never, by any means, applies herself to any thing, which is ill, but only about things, which are indifferent, if there be any thing, which may occur, to be done, either here, or there, or any where else. But thus, I come to know better, the incomparable mercy, which our Lord is pleased to show me, upon his tying-up this mad fool, when we are in perfect contemplation. And here, I consider, what would become of me, if such persons as hold me now for good, could discern me, to have these idlenesses, and impertinencies, which I have described here.  
But now, I have very great compassion of a Soul, to find her, in so ill company, as this. I would fain see her rather, in liberty; and I express myself, in this manner, to our Blessed Lord: When, O my God, shall I arrive, to see my Soul, all conjoined, and united together, in celebrating thy praise; that so, all the Powers thereof, may admire thee? Permit not heerafrer, O Lord, that she wander, up, and down, by pieces; for now it seems no otherwise, then as if every one of the same Powers, were running, up, and down, in a several way. These things pass thus, very often; and I understand also very well, that sometimes, the little corporal health I have, contributes much, to these inconveniences. I also reflect much, by these occasions, upon the hurt, which the Sin of our First Parent, hath done us; for, me thinks, it is grown from thence, that we are incapable to enjoy so great a good; and mine own sins, are a great part of the cause; for certainly, if I had not committed so many, I should have remained more entire, and free, towards the doing of good.  
I was subject also, by times, to another very great inconvenience; for, conceauing that I understood all the Books, that treat of Prayer, which I came to read, and that already, our Blessed Lord had done me some such kind of favour, as that I needed them not; for this reason, I did not read them, but applied myself to read the lives of Saints. And finding myself also very short, in that, wherein they had so heroically served Almighty God, this seemed to do me good, and give me strength; but yet, me thought, this was a sign of little humility, for me to think, that I was already arrived, to hold that degree of Prayer. And not being able, to quiet myself otherwise, I continued much in pain, till certain learned men, and particularly, that blessed Creature, Fray pedro de Alcantara, declared to me, that I was not, to be troubled at that.  
I am not ignorant, that in the serving of Almighty God, I have not yet so much as begun; though yet, the way, which his Divine Majesty hath held, in doing me Favours, is the same, which he hath used towards such, as are good; whereas, for my part, I am no more, than a direct downright mere imperfection, unless it be, in my desires, to love him; for, in this, indeed, I see well, that our Lord hath done me Favour, that so I may perform some little thing, for him. I confess, me thinks, I love him; but my actions, and the many imperfections, which I discern therein, give me great discomfort.  
At other times, my Soul falls into a kind of Foolery; for so it is, when, me thinks, I do neither good, nor ill, but follow on, after the walk of others folks; and this, neither with pain, nor glory; nor with thought of life, or death, nor gust, nor trouble; yea, me thinks, she feels nothing at all, but rather seems to me, to walk on, like some little Ass, who seeds, and sustains himself, because they give him somewhat to eat; and he eats, almost without thinking, what he is doing. For, the Soul, when she is in this state, is not likely to be without feeding, upon some great Favours of Almighty God, since she is not troubled, with living in so miserable a life, as this, but passes through it, with patience, and equality of mind; but yet, these motions, and effects, are not found by her, in such sort, as that the Soul is made to understand herself by them.  
It seems now also to me, to be, as when men sail at Sea, by the breath of a sweet, and gentle Wind; for then, we rid much way, though we scarce know how; Whereas, in those other conditions, the effects are so very great, that the Soul doth almost instantly▪ discern her own improvement; for instantly do her desires boil up, and the Soul can never satisfy herself; but they, to whom Almighty God imparts such impetuosities of Love, do find such operations, as these. This is like certain little Springs, which I have observed to rise, and where the Sand never ceases to move upwards. And this example, and comparison of Souls, which be arrived to this state, seems very natural to me. For, Love will be ever boiling upward, and considering, and devising, about what it may be able to do; and can, by no means, be contained in itself; as it seems, the water, whereof I spoke, is not able to continue in the earth, which still is casting it up, from thence. And just so, is it very usual for the Soul, not to be at quiet, or in contentment with herself, through the love she bears to Almighty God; but she is so bathed, and soaked, and filled with it, that she wishes, that others would drink too, (since, for her part, she cannot want) that so they might assist her, to sing the praises of Almighty God.  
O how often do I call to mind, that living Water, whereof our Lord spoke to the Samaritan; as, indeed, I am very much devoted to that Gospel. And really, it is most true, that I was so, even from my childhood, though I did not then, understand this benefit, as now I do; but I often besought our Lord, to bestow of this Water upon me; and always, I had the Image, or Figure of it, at hand, with this Motto, or Word of hers, when he was so near the Well: Domine da mihi hanc aquam; O Lord, bestow this water upon me. It seems also to me, that as a Fire which is very great, needs matter upon which to work, to the end that it may not be extinguished: So also for those Souls, whereof I speak, it is necessary that they be bringing wood, how dear soever it may cost them; to the end, that this fire may not go out. For my part, I am so miserable a Creature, that I would be content, if I had but straws, to cast in.  
And so it happens to me sometimes, yea and very often, that, one while I would be laughing, and at other times, much afflicted. For, a certain interior motion, and impulse, which I have, is ever inciting me, to serve God, in somewhat; and (since I am not fit for greater matters) to do it, by gathering Flowers, and making Posies, and applying them, in decent manner, to holy Images, and Pictures; to sweep, or dresse-up some Oratory; or in doing such other little, and poor things, as gave me confusion, to see, that they were no greater. And so also, if I chanced to do any Penance, it was all, so very little, and so poorly done, that unless our Lord should vouchsafe to accept the Desire, for the Deed, I saw plainly, that I was good for nothing; and, in a word, I did even laugh at myself.  
But now, it gives no small trouble, to such Souls, as it pleases Almighty God, through his goodness, to endue, with the fire of his Love, in great abundance, if they be in want of corporal health, and strength, whereby they may be able, to do somewhat for him; since this gives a very great pain. For, in regard that we want strength, to carry still, more and more wood, to this fire, (and such Souls do even die, for the fear they have, lest the Fire should go out) it seems to me, that she doth even consume, and burn herself up, into ashes; or else, even dissolve herself into tears, and so breath herself away, into nothing; and this is a strong kind of torment, though it leave not, to be savoury withal. Let such a Soul, as this, give great thanks to Almighty God, if she have arrived to this 
* A happy State.  state; and if our Lord have given her person, corporal strength, to do penance; or if he have imparted Learning, and talents, and power, to Preach, and hear Confessions, and win Souls to Almighty God. For she knows not, nor understands not the great benefit, which is possessed by her, unless she be grown so far, as to feel the affliction which it brings, to be ever receiving much, at the hands of our Lord, and never to be able withal, to be doing his Divine Majesty any Service. Let him be ever Blessed for all; and let the Angels give him glory, Amen.  
I know not, whether I do well, to be writing of so many little things; but since your Reverence hath commanded me yet again, not to esteem it any trouble to enlarge myself, and that I must be sure to omit nothing, I therefore go discoursing with clearness, and with truth, of as much as I can call to mind. And it is impossible, but that I should omit many things; for else, it would grow to cost me much more time, whereof I have very little, as I have said; and then, when all were done, it would perhaps, be of no benefit at all.   

THE ONE AND THIRTIETH CHAPTER.  
She treats of certain exterior temptations, and representations of the Devil; and of the torments, which he gave her. She speaks also of other things, which are very fit, for the advice, and instruction of such persons, as are walking on, in the way of Perfection.  
AS I have spoken of sorne interior, and secret temptations, and disturbances, which the Devil brought upon 
* She makes along Discourse of the Diabolical Temptations. & troubles, to which she was subject.  me: So now will I speak of some others, which, in effect, were public, and wherein I could not be ignorant, but that it was he. I was once in a certain Oratory, and he appeared to me, on my left side, in an abominable kind of figure; and in particular, I observed his mouth, because he was speaking to me; and it was of a most ugly form. It seemed to me, that a huge flame, came out of his body; and it was all, a very bright one, without any obscurity at all. He told me, after a most hideous manner, that howsoever I had freed myself once, out of his hands, he would yet find means enough, to fetch me back again. I was in a mighty fear, but I blessed myself, as well as I could; and so he vanished a way; but yet he instantly returned; and this happened to me, two several times; Nor did I know, in the world, what to do; only I had Holie-water, near at hand; and so I sprinkled it towards the part, where he was; and he never returned to me, any more.  
Another time, he was some five hours together, tormenting me, with very terrible pain, and both exterior, and interior disquiet; in such sort, that it was even past enduring. The women, who were then at hand, were astonished, to see, what passed; but neither could they tell, what to do, nor I, how to serve myself; of their help.  
My custom is, whensoever any corporal sickness, or pain, is very intolerable, to make certain Acts within myself, the best I can, beserching our Blessed Lord, that his Divine Majesty, will give me patience; and that, if it shall redound to his Service, I may continue, to suffer so, even till the very end of the world. And therefore now, when I found myself put to suffer, with so much rigour, I applied myself to get help, by making some such acts, as those, and divers good purposes also; that so, I might bear the burden, the better. And our Lord was pleased then, that I should clearly understand it, to be the Devil; for I saw a certain little abominable Negro, or Black-More, hard by me, gnashing his teeth, even like a despairing wretch; but yet, in fine, he lost, by what he hoped to gain; for, as soon as I saw him, I fell a laughing, and had no fear of him, at all; but there were some persons by, who knew not, what to do, in this case, nor how to procure any remedy, for such pain, as they saw me endure; the blows being so great, which he made me give myself, both upon my Arms, and my Head, and my whole Body; and I, not having any power at all, to resist him; yea and (which was worse, than this) I was subject to so great an inward kind of restlessness, and disquiet, as I could, by no means, appease; no nor yet durst I, so much as call for Holie-water, for fear of giving them apprehension, who were there, and so, to make them know, what the matter was.  
For my part, I have found, by much experience, that there is not any thing, from which, the Devils do so certainly fly, (and so, as to return no more) as from 
* The excellency of Holy Water.  Holie-Water. They fly also from the Cross; but, in that case, they will presently, sometimes, return again. So that certainly, the virtue of Holie-water, is great; and for my part, my Soul finds a particular, and evident kind of comfort, when I take it; and really, and usually, I feel such an ease, and pleasure in it, as I am not well able to express; for, it is an interior delight, which comforts my whole Soul; and this is no mere imagination, or fancy, nor a thing, which hath happened to me only once, but very often; and when I observe it, with most attention, me thinks, it is as if a body, who were much troubled with heat, and thirst, should drink a draught of very cold water, which should refresh him, even to his heart's desire. And heerupon, I also consider, that all those things, which be ordained by the Church, are of great importance, and moment; and it is matter even of much Regalo to me, that those words, which the 
* A great, and just consolation.  Church uses, and says, should have the power, to make Holie-water, become of so very different a condition, from such other, as is not hallowed by the Church. But, in the mean time, when my torment would not cease, I told them so, who were present, that so they might not laugh at me; and calling for Holie-water, they brought me some, and sprinkled me with it; but it did me no good. Upon that, I sprinkled some, towards the place, where the ill Spirit was; and then he went instantly away; and I grew as instantly well, as if they had stroaked my hurt off from me, with their hands; save that I found myself as weary, as if I had been cudgeled extremely. But now, it did me a very great deal of good, to find, that when our Lord gives the Devil leave, he is able to do such a deal of mischief, to a Creature, both in Body, and Soul, even when they are not his, or absolutely, in his power; for then, what would he be able to do, when they should be wholly left, to his disposing? This gave me also, a very great desire, to free myself from so ill Company, as that, of the Devil, is.  
At another time, and that was lately, the selfsame thing happened to me, though yet, it lasted not long; but I was then alone; and then, I also called for Holie-Water; and two Religious Women, (who were very well worth the believing, and would, by no means, be induced, to tell an untruth,) came-in thither, after the Devil was departed from thence, and declared, that they felt a filthy stink, as of brimstone. For my part, I smelled it not; but they say, it continued so long, that others might also perceive it.  
Another time, I was in the Choir; and I came into a very great depth of Recollection; and I went away, from thence, for fear, lest somewhat might be observed. But the Religious in the Choir, who were near the place where I was, heard a noise of very great blows, which were given; and, for my part, I also heard those Spirits talk together, close to me, as if they had been agreeing about some business of theirs, though I knew not, what, in particular, it was; for I found myself in such depth of Prayer, that I understood them not, in express manner; neither yet, had I any fear of them, at all.  
But these things did ordinarily not arrive, but when some Soul, or other, did receive benefit, upon my persuasion, and advise. And it is certain, that a thing happened to me once, which I shall now relate; and there are many witnesses of it; &, in particular, my Ghostly Father, to whom I Confess myself now; for he saw it in a certain Letter, without my telling him, who it was, that wrote it; though yet, he chanced to know it, otherwise. But the thing was this. There came once a certain person to me, who had been in Mortal Sin, about some two years, and a balf; and he had committed one, which was of the most abominable, that ever I had heard of, in my whole life; and, during all that time, he neither Confessed, nor reform himself, and yet he said Mass, all the while. And though he then, Confessed his other Sins, yet concerning that one, he was wont to ask himself, how it could be possible, that ever he should Confess so fowl a thing; and yet he had a desire, to free himself from it, but knew not, in fine, how to effect it. For my part, I had great compassion of the man; and much grief, to see Almighty God so offended; and I promised him, to beseech our Lord, to give him remedy; and that I would also entreat divers others, who were much more likely to prevail, than myself, to become suitors to his Divine Majesty, for him; and accordingly, I wrote to a certain person, about it, this man letting me know, that he could convey my letter. And it is certain, that heerupon, he instantly Confessed his Sins; and Almighty God was pleased (at the instance of those many other holy persons, to whom the business had been recommended) to extend his mercy, to this Soul; and myself also, as miserable as I am, did not fail, to solicit it, the best I could. But the man wrote a Letter to me, declaring, that he was reform, so far, already, as that some good time had incurred, wherein he had returned no more, to that Sin; but yet, that the torment was so great, by the temptation, which solicited him that way, that he accounted himself, to be almost, as it were, in a kind of Hell; so extremely was he put to suffer by it; and therefore, that I must help him still, with Almighty God. Upon this, I recommended him again to my Sisters, the Religious of our Monastery; by means of whose prayers, it seems, our Lord was pleased, to do me this Favour; for, they took the matter, very much to hart. This man, was a person, of whom, no one could guess, who it was; and I humbly besought the Divine Majesty, to appease those torments, and temptations, to which he was subject; and that those Devils might be suffered to torment me, in his place; provided always, that I might not offend our Blessed Lord, in any thing, by it. And it is very certainly true, that shortly after this, I endured most grievous torments, for the space of a month. And these two particulars, which I have now related, did happen then. But our Lord, in the mean time, was pleased, that they should leave, to afflict that person any more; for so, men sent me word, because I had already signified to them, what had occurred to me, during that month. And as for him, his Soul got strength daily; and he grew to be absolutely free; nor could he satisfy himself, with giving thanks, not only to our Blessed Lord, but even also to me, as if I had done somewhat therein. But the truth is, that the opinion, which he had, that our Lord did sometimes show me Favours, was of benefit to him; for he said, that, whensoever he found himself, to be much assaulted, and pressed, he used to read my Letters, and that presently thereupon, he should find himself rid of the temptation. He grew to be much amazed, to understand, of what I had suffered; and how also, himself came to be free; yea and even I, came also to wonder at it; and certainly, I would have suffered many years, for the advantage, and deliverance of a Soul. Let our Lord be praised for all; for, the prayers of such, as serve him well, can do much; as, I believe, my Sisters do, of this House; but yet, because I had been earnest in procuring those prayers, the Devils would be more enraged against me, then against others; and our Lord also permitted that, for my Sins.  
About this time also, I once thought, that the Devils would even have strangled me; & it was, by night. But as soon as I had caused Holie-water to be cast upon me, I saw a multitude of them run away, as if they had been about to break their necks, from some high rock. And it is so frequent, and familiar with me, to be tormented by these cursed wretches, and the fear, which now I have of them, is grown to be so very little, (by seeing, that they are not so much as able to stir, unless our Blessed Lord give them leave,) that although it might be of comfort to myself, yet I should not fail to weary your Reverence, if I related them. But even that, which is said already, may serve to show, that any true Servants of Almighty God, may need to trouble themselves little, at these idle frights, and Bugg-beares, which the Devils are wont to expose, that so, they may make us fear them; and, in fine, let the world be sure, that every time, when we make them see, that we despise them, they will remain with so much the less strength, after it; and the Soul, as being a greater Princess, than she was before, will remain with so much more power, and profit; as I will not stand here, to relate, for fear of too much length.  
But now I will only declare, what happened to me once, upon an All-Soules Day, at night; for, being, at that time, in the Oratory, and having recited Matins, as also those so very devout Prayers, which are at the end thereof, according to the Breuiarie, the Devil put himself upon the Book, to the end, that I might not finish the Prayer; but I blessed myself, with making the Sign of the Holy Cross, and so he went presently away; but I beginning again, he also returned; and I think it was no less, that the like happened, than three times; and till I cast Holie-Water at him, I could not make an end of the business. But then, I plainly saw, that some Souls went out of Purgatory, at the instant, who, belike, wanted very little of their deliverance; and perhaps, the Devil meant to divert it. It is seldom, that I have seen the Devil, in any exact, and particular Form, or Figure; but many times, without Form, as I did the Vision; for, a Body sees very clearly, that he is there, as I have declared already; and I will now relate this also, because it amazes me very much.  
Being one day, in a certain Monastery, and in the Choir, and upon the Festivitie of the Blessed Trinity, I chanced to be in Rapt; and I saw a great contention, and strife, between Angels, and Devils, yet not knowing, what that Vision might mean. But about some fifteen days before, it was heard, that a certain great disagreement had happened, between some persons, who were of Prayer, and many others also, who were not so; & there came a great deal of harm to the place, where this occurred; for, the strife continued long; and it bred a very great deal of disquiet.  
Another time, I saw a multitude of them, all round about me; but then, it seemed to me, that I was environed with a great kind of Light, which permitted them not to approach. And I understood thereby, that our Lord kept them off, from coming near me, in any such sort, as to make me offend his Divine Majesty; and by that, which I had found sometimes in myself, I conceived that it was a true Vision. The matter is, that I now understand so very well, how little power they have, whensoever I go not against God, that, in effect, I do not fear them at all; for, their strength is directly nothing, unless they find the Souls, they set upon, to be cowardly, and yielding to them; but then indeed, they show their power.  
In some of those former Temptations, me thought, they employed themselves, now, and then, upon awaking, and reviving in me, the memory of all the frailties, and vanities, of my former time; in such sort, as that I had good cause, to recommend myself much, to Almighty God; but this, put me to very much pain, by making it seem to me, that now, it was all, of the Devil, since those thoughts of mine, returned; till such time, as my Ghostly Father put me in quiet. For really, it seemed to me, that even the first motions of ill thoughts, were not so much as to approach any such person, as had received so great Favours of our B. Lord.  
At other times, it tormented me much, yea and even it torments me still, to see, that men should hold me, in so high account; and especially, that it should be done, by eminent persons; and that they should speak so much good of me. And in this, I have suffered, and still suffer much; but I quickly cast my thoughts, upon the Life of Christ our Lord, and his Saints; and, me thinks, I walk in a way, which is very contrary, to that of theirs; for they aspired to nothing, but to be subject to injuries, and contempt. And this makes me walk with such fear, as that I even sarce dare hold up my head; and would be glad, to get myself out of sight; which yet, I never desire, when I find myself subject to persecutions; for then, my Soul carries herself like a great Lady, whatsoever the Body may feel. I know not, how these things can stand; but yet they pass in such sort, that the Soul seems then, to be as in her Kingdom; and that she treads, and tramples all things, under her feet. This occurred to me several times, and the same continued long; and I thought, it was virtue, and humility, but now I see plainly enough, that it was a temptation; and a Dominican Father, a learned man, declared it to me, very well. When I conceived, that these Favours, which our B. Lord was pleased to do me, would grow to be publicly known, it was of so excessive a torment to me, that it extremely disquieted my Soul; and it came, at length, to that pass, that, whilst I was considering the same, I could more willingly have been contented, to be buried quick, then that any such thing should arrive. And so, when I came to have those so great Recollections, and Rapts, as that it was not possible for me, to resist them in public, Iremained so confounded with shame afterward, that I would have been glad, not to appear, where any Creature, who knew me, might see me. And being once extremely afflicted, upon this account, I was asked by our Blessed Lord, what it was, whereof I was so much afraid. For, 
* A question worthy of him that asked it.  saith he, this cannot grow, but from one of these two occasions; Namely, that either it is, because they will murmur against you; or else, for that they will praise, and magnify me. Meaning, that they, who should believe it, would praise him; and they, who should not believe it, would condemn me; though yet, without any fault at all, of mine. But he said, that both those things, would prove to be of advantage to me; and that therefore I must no longer, be troubled at it. This quieted me very much then; and it also comforts me now, whensoever I call it to mind.  
This temptation came on so far, that it gave me an inclination, to quit this place, and to carry my fortunes with me, to another Monastery, which was very much more enclosed, and shut up, then that, wherein I was, for the present. And I liked it also the rather, for that I had heard it extremely praised, many ways; and besides, it was a House, of mine own Order; yea and also very far off, from my former abode. And it was a thing, which would have comforted me much, to remain, where I were utterly unknown; but my Ghostly Father, would never permit it.  
These fears did much deprive me of Liberty of Spirit; but I came to understand afterward, that it was no good Humility, since it gave me such a deal of disquiet. And our Lord, upon that occasion, taught me this truth, that, if, 
* This is a very great Truth; but the Accent must be put, upon the word Indeed.  indeed, I were resolved, and assured, that nothing at all of mine, were good, but that it were all, of God, it would follow, that just so, as I would not be sorry, to hear other persons praised, but rather would be greatly comforted, and joyed, that our Lord did show himself in them: So neither would I be sorry, that his works might be also seen, in me.  
I fell also, upon another extreme; and it was, to beg of Almighty God (yea, and I made particular Prayer to this purpose) that, when by accident, any person should enter into good opinion of me, his Divine Majesty would be pleased, to declare my Sins to him; to the end, that the man might see, how absolutely without any merit of mine, it pleased our B. Lord to do me Favours. And this, do I ever much desire, though my Ghostly Father have commanded me, 
* And though she should have continued to ask it, I dare say our Lord would not have granted it.  not to ask it. But hitherto, till very lately, if I chanced to see any person, who thought extraordinarily well of me, I took the best means I could find, by some device, or other, to tell him my sins; and thus I conceived myself, to find ease. But yet hereby, they have put me into a kind of scruple, that this proceeded not in me, from humility; and that it rather grew from a temptation; in regard, that many came to me, and I seemed, to have cozened them all. But though it be very true that they are indeed deceived, if they thought, that there was any goodness in me, yet had I no desire at all, to deceive them; nor did I ever pretend any such thing; but that our Blessed Lord might have perhaps permitted it. And so, for the selfsame reason. I would never have imparted any private accident of mine, which was no Sin, even to my very Ghostly Fathers themselves, unless I had found it, to be wholly necessary; for I should otherwise, have had much scruple to do it.  
But now I see very well, that all these little 
* A must certain truth.  fears, and troubles, & superfluities of ill-grounded Humilities, do savour very sufficiently, of imperfection, and proceed from the immortification of the Soul. For, to a Soul, which is well resigned, into the hands of Almighty God, it doth not import her a jot more, that they should speak well of her, then ill; if once she understand well, and home, (forasmuch as God will give her that grace) that she hath nothing at all, of herself; but let her confide in him, who imparts it, and she shall know, in time, why he discovers it. And, in the mean while, let her prepare herself, for persecution; for, it will most certainly arrive, in such an Age as this, upon any such person, as to whom our Lord will have it known, that he doth her such Favours as these. For, upon any such Soul as this, a thousand watchful eyes will be cast; whereas there will not be one, upon a whole thousand of such other Souls, as be of a contrary making. And there is really much cause to fear this; and it ought to have been my fear, that the other was 
* A wise, & solid Truth.  not Humility, but Pusillanimity. For, a Soul, which Almighty God permits to be exposed thus, to the sight of the world, may expect to be a Martyr of the same world; for, if she will not die to it, she shall die, by it.  
For my part, I really see nothing, in this thing, called World, which seems good to me, except only, that it gives not way, that worthy, and good people, should be permitted to do ill, without being murmured at, for their labour; and by this means, they grow to perfect themselves. But there is need of more fortitude, and courage, for a man, who is yet imperfect, to walke-on towards a way of perfection, then even to be instantly, made a Martyr. For, Perfection is not so quickly gotten, unless it be by some such person, as to whom our Blessed Lord may vouchsafe that Favour, by way of a particular privilege. But the world discerning once, that a man begins to aspire to do well, will needs account him perfect, at an instant; and then will it presently see any fault in him, if he have any, though it be a thousand leagues off. Yea and perhaps, that, which they hold to be a fault in him, shall indeed, be a virtue; and the other, who condemns him, and is wont, peradventure, to do the selfsame thing, by an impulse of vice, will judge ill, of it, in another. So that, according to his dictamen, that other man, should neither eat, nor sleep, nor even, as it were, draw his breath. And the more also they esteem such persons, the more apt are they to forget, that, how perfect soever their Souls be, and how absolutely soever they tread the whole world under their feet, yet still, they are in the Body, and live upon Earth, and are subject to the miseries of their condition. And therefore still I say, that there is need of a great deal of courage; because, such men have a mind, that the poor Soul, which hath not yet begun to walk, should already fly. She hath not yet overcome, and mortified her passions; and yet these men will needs expect, that she should remain as entire, and firm, as they have read of Saints themselves, after they were confirmed in grace. The particulars, which occur in this kind, are to give a man cause to wonder; and withal, even to afflict us to the hart, to see so many Souls turn back again, which know not (poor Creatures, as they are) what shift to make for themselves; and so, do I believe, that mine had also done, if our Lord, with such an abundance of mercy, had not dispatched all that business, alone. For, till he, out of his own goodness, did so, your Reverence will already have seen, that, on my part, there was nothing at all, but only rising, and falling, over and over. I would fain express this point, home; for I believe, that many Souls, grow to be abused, and deceived, because they have a mind to fly, before Almighty God give them wings.  
I conceive, that I have formerly used this Comparison; but it comes also very well in, here; for I find, that many Souls, are much afflicted, upon this occasion. As namely, when they begin, with great desires, and resolutions, to go forward in the way of virtue (and some do even give-over all, for love thereof, forasmuch as concerns exterior things) and yet, see more advantageous effects, and fruits of such virtues, as our Lord hath infused into the Souls of others, who are more proficient, then into theirs; and that they cannot perform certain things, which are set down in those Books, which are written of Prayer, and Contemplation, which men are advised to use, so to make themselves ascend up, the better, and the higher, to this dignity. And, in fine, when they cannot instantly, obtain these things, they discomfort, and afflict themselves. As, for example, not to care a straw, if any body should speak ill of us; but rather to take more contentment in it, then when they praise us; To have very little esteem of our honour; To be perfectly untied from the care of kindred, and friends; and not to desire, to converse with them, but rather to be weary of their company, unless they be persons of Prayer; And many other things of this kind, which must, in my opinion, come from the gift of Almighty God, because I hold them for Supernatural blessings, and very contrary to our own Natural inclination. And therefore, let them not be afflicted, but put their trust in our Lord; that so, what now they have in desire, his Divine Majesty may be pleased, to give them afterward, with effect, and fruit, by means of Prayer, and by their doing, on their part, what they can. For, it is a most necessary thing, for this weak, and poor Nature of ours, to place a great confidence in our B. Lord; & not to put ourselves out of hart, nor to think, but that, if we will proceed with courage, we shall be victorious; and, because I have much experience hereof, I will speak a word or two, by way of advice, to your Reverence. For, you must not think (though it may appear, as if it were true) that any virtue is already gained, unless it be first compared, and experimented, by the Vice, which is contrary to it. And we must always remain doubtful, and suspicious, and not cast off our cares, as long as we are the owners of our lives. For, our weaknesses stick close, and fast to us; unless (as I was saying before) the whole benefit be imparted to us, by Divine grace; to the end, that we may know, what all the things of this life, are worth; and that there is never any such thing, as can be termed all, but in company of many dangers.  
It seemed to me, some few years ago, that not only I was not inordinately tied, to the love of any of my kindred, but rather that I was weary of them; and it is really very true, that there were times, when I would not so much as endure their conversation. But yet afterward, there occurred a certain business of much importance, which obliged me to remain, with a certain Sister of mine, whom formerly I had loved, with very extraordinary affection. And now, being come again, to converse with her, we suited not so very well, with one another. For, though she were better, than I, yet being of a different condition from mine, in regard that she was married, the conversation was not always that, which I could have wished; and therefore, I liked to be alone, as much as conveniently I might. But yet, after a while, I found, that her troubles, and affairs, brought me more resentment, and care, by much, than such others did, as belonged to any Christian neighbour of mine, at large; and this gave me some little disgust, against myself; for, so, in fine, I came to know, that I was not so very free, and untied, as I had formerly conceived; and that moreover, I was to have avoided the occasion, to the end, that so, this virtue, which our Lord had begun to give me, might have gotten strength; and I have procured, through his Favour, to proceed in this manner, ever since.  
When our Lord begins to impart a virtue to a Soul, it is to be held in great account; and by no means, are we to expose it, to the danger of being lost. So is it in those things, which concern reputation, and honour; and so also, in others. And your Reverence may well believe, that not all they, and we, who esteem ourselves, to be absolutely untied from all things, are yet so, indeed; and we have need enough, not to be slack, or negligent heerin. For, whatsoever person there be, who feels any care at all, of any one point of Honour, in himself, let him believe me, if he mean to profit in Spirit, that there is ever a certain tye, at the end of it; and it is, by such a kind of chain, as that there is no File in the world, but God, and Prayer, and very much endeavour, on our part, which will possibly be able, to divide it; & it seems to be so fast a knot, that I am amazed, to see the mischief, which it brings.  
Sometimes I see certain persons, who seem to be even Saints, by their works; for, they do so very many, and so great ones, that the world doth even admire them, and exclaim, after this manner; Dear God and how comes it to pass, that such a Soul as that, doth still inhabit the Earth? Is he not already, at the very top of Perfection? What is this? And what can detain such a man, from being a direct, and downright Saint, who doth so great things for God? But my answer to this question, is, That this man, hath yet, perhaps, some little consideration, & care, of preserving some point of Honour, for himself; yea, and the worst of this business, is, that he will, by no means, believe, that, in very deed, there is any such thing. And that happens, because sometimes, the Devil makes him conceive, that he is even obliged, to have a great care of it. Well; yet let them hearken to me, I beseech them; and 
* Exercise of Prayer, and love of Honour, agree not well together.  even for the love of our Blessed Lord, I beg of them, that they will believe this poor little miserable Ant, whom our Lord commands to speak; That, unless they free themselves from this Caterpillar, though perhaps it may not destroy the whole Tree, because some other virtues do still, peradventure, remain, yet even all those very virtues, will be worm-eaten; nor, will it ever be a beautiful Tree; nor will it either thrive, or prosper, in itself; no, nor yet so much as suffer such others to thrive, and prosper, as shall grow near it; for, the fruit of Good-Example, which it can give, will not be wholesome, or sound; nor last long. And I say, and say again, that, when there is any point of Honour to be maintained, how little soever that may be, it is like the Stop of the Organ, whereof, when the Point, or Compass, is in fault, the whole Music is also then, in disorder. It is a vice, which is always procuring hurt enough, to the Soul; but in the way of Prayer, it is the very pestilence itself.  
For then, we are going to procure to join ourselves, by way of Union, with Almighty God; and we say, that we dispose ourselves, to observe, and follow the Counsels of Christ our Lord, whom we find to be all loaden with injuries, and false testimonies, against him; and yet we must, forsooth, be careful, to hold-up our own reputation, and honour, very right, and straight. But it is not possible, ever to arrive, at that journey's end, without going by the same way, which he went. And our Blessed Lord comes approaching then, to a Soul, when we endeavour to concur with him, and procure to depart, and descend, in many things, from that, which is even our right.  
But now some perhaps will say, I know not wherein that should be; and I have nothing of this kind, to offer up, for his sake. Yet, for my part, I am apt to believe, that, whosoever hath indeed so generous a resolution, as this, his Divine Majesty, will ordain him, so many different ways, for the gaining of this virtue, that perhaps, he would not wish, to have had so many. Let us all therefore, put our hands to work; for, I am able to tell you, that the Nothings, and poor Littlenesses, or some of them, at least, (which are those miserable Straws, whereof I have spoken, and which I cast into the fire; for, I am fit for nothing else) are all admitted, and accepted, by our Blessed Lord; and let him be praised for ever.  
Amongst the rest of my imperfections, I was subject to this, for one. I had very little knowledge of the Breuiarie, and of all that, which was to be performed in the Choir; and this happened, by my being so very careless, and given to vanities; and the while, I saw other Novices, who were able to have instructed me. Now, I forbore to ask them any questions, for fear lest they should know of my ignorance. But shortly after, a good example came before me (for, this mercy, is usually vouchsafed, by Almighty God) and so, when he had a little opened mine eyes, I would then be content to ask, whatsoever I knew not most perfectly well, though for the most part, I knew it; and thus, both I lost, forsooth, no honour, by the bargain, and afterward, it seemed to me, that our Lord was pleased, to give me a better memory. I also knew, the Singing part, very ill; and I was troubled, if I did not learn, what I was bidden; yet, not this, because I failed, in what I should have performed, as in the presence of our Lord (for, that had been virtue in me) but in regard, that there were so many, who heard me; and thus, I was so disordered, upon the mere point of looking, forsooth, to mine honour, that really, I acquitted myself much worse, than I knew how to have done, before. But afterward, I thought it fitter, to tell them plainly, that I could not do that well, which, indeed, I could not do. At the first, I had some difficulty also, even in this; but afterward, I took contentment in doing it. And really, it is very true, that, when once a body begins not to care, that she be known not to know a thing, she shall perform it much better. And when this base, ugly Honour, is once put out of the way (this Honour, I mean, which every body places, where, and in what he will) by these Nothings, which are really Nothing (and I am sure, I am Nothing enough, whom such a Babble, could put to so much pain) I was able to do those things, better; and thus, by performing such poor acts, and such miserable little things, as these, his Divine Majesty vouchsafes to give them strength, and value, as having been performed, for his sake. He also helps us on, towards greater things; and so did it happen to me, in matters concerning Humility, by my seeing, that they all profited, except myself; for, I was never good, for any thing. But ònly, when they went from the Choir, I would stay to fold-up their Mantles; for it seemed no less to me, then that they were, as so many Angels themselves, who sung the praises of Almighty God; and still I used to do it, till they came to hear of it; but then, I was not a little ashamed. For, my virtue did not arrive so far, as to desire, that they might know of it; not yet, because I was humble, but only, that they might not laugh at me, for my labour, and for my being so absolutely good for nothing.  
O my dear Lord; how mere a scorn, and shame is it, to see so great wickedness, as mine; and find me reckon-up such poor, and paltry little grains of sand, as these, which yet also, I raised not out of the earth, for thy honour, and service, but all was wrapped up, in a thousand miseries; for, the water of thy Grace, had not yet sprung, and boyled-up in me, to make them rise. O thou, my dear Creator, that I had something of worth, and substance, which I might recount, and present to thee, amongst so many sins of mine; since I am commanded, to relate those great Favours, which I have received from thee! It is true, O my Lord, and my God, that I know not, how this hart of mine, can endure it; not how any Creature, who shall ever read this Story, can fail to abhor me, when he sees such immense Favours, as thine, so ill acknowledged, and thyself, so ill served, for them; and that I am no more ashamed, to relate, in fine, these little services, as if they were mine. And yet, O my dear Lord, I am ashamed, but only, my not having any thing else, to recount, with any colour, of being mine own, makes me unfold these, so base beginnings of mine; to the end, that, whosoever may have laid his own, more solidly, and substantially up, for thy service, may well have good hope, by the means; since he, who hath vouchsafed to accept my poor beginnings, in part of payment, will certainly receive those others, better, which are greater. I humbly beseech his Divine Majesty, to give me grace, at length, that I may not still continue in these things, which are but beginnings;  
Amen.   

THE TWO AND THIRTIETH CHAPTER.  
She treats, howit pleased our Lord, to put her in Spirit, into a place of Hell, which she said, she had deserved for her Sins. She relates, what was represented to her there; which was but a kind of shadow, of such things, as are suffered in that place. She begins also, to declare the way, and manner, how that Monastery was founded in Auila, under the name of S. joseph.  
AFter a long time, when our Blessed Lord had already done me many of those Favours, which I have here related; as others also, which were very great; I found one day, whilst I was in Prayer, though I could not tell, how, that I was placed in Hell. And I understood, that our Lord was pleased, that I should see the place, which the 
* This is not to be literally understood; for the Devil can prepare no place for a Soul in Hell, but by the Decree of Almighty God, upon the particular judgement given at the death of the Party.  Devils had prepared for me, and which I had deserved for my 
* The Sins of Ingratitude, discorrespondence, and inordinate affection to Creatures, which she did commit; and the greater and mortal Sins, which she would most certainly have committed, if the Mercy of our Blessed Lord, had not prevented, and withheld her.  Sins. This lasted but a very little space of time; but yet, if I should live many years, I hold it for an impossible thing, that ever I should be able, to forget it.  
The entry thereof, seemed 
* Hell is represented to her in Spirit, after a most subtle manner, and it was shown to her, and described by her, in such sort, as that such Creatures, may be capable thereof, as are endued not only with Minds, but with Bodies.  to me, to be, after the manner, of a long, and straight Lane; or rather, as if it had been, a low, narrow, long, and dark Oven. The ground seemed to be, as if it had been like water, all thickened with dirt; and it was both very filthy, and of a most pestilential smell, and had a multitude of loathsome vermin, as flies, and worms, and such other ugly creatures, in it. At the end of it, there was a certain hollow place, as if it had been a kind of a little Press, in a wall; into which, I saw myself crowded, with great constraint. Now all that, was even delightful to the sight, in comparison of what I felt there; and this, which I have said of it already, I also find to be very imperfectly described. But, as for the Feeling part, the very beginning to say what it was, is a thing, which can neither be well, no nor even almost at all, related, as it was indeed; in regard that I felt a certain fire, in my very Soul, though yet I know not, how to declare it, as indeed it was. For, all those almost insupportable torments, which I have felt, with all extremi tie, in this life, and whereof the Physicians are wont to affirm, that even in the Corporeal way, they are the greatest, which can be suffered in this world; (as namely, that shrinking-up of all my Sinews, when I instantly grew lame by it; besides many other torments, in several kinds; as also that I have been vexed much, by the Devil) are all no more, then absolutely just nothing, in comparison of what I felt, in that place; besides my knowing, (with all this) that no part of it, was ever to cease, but to continue, without ever having an end. And yet, even all this, which I have said, is also nothing, in comparison of that continual agonizing of the Soul, that pressing, that stifling, which is so very sensible an affliction, together with that desperate kind of discontent, and disgust, and repining, which I am, no way, able to express. For, to say, that it is a continual tearing of the Soul into fitters, is to say little; since, in that case, it seems, that it must be some other body, who tears it; but, in this, the Soul itself, is the very Executioner, which even tears itself. There is, besides all that, another strange Ingredient, which is, that interior kind of fire, and that unspeakable despair, upon those intolerable torments, and sorrows. I saw not, who it was, that inflicted these things; but, me thought, I found myself to be sliced, and minced, and pressed, and burnt, all at once. And I say, and say again, that that interior fire, and despair, is the very worst of it all. Whilst I was in this most pestilential place, and that, without any possibility of ever so much, as once hoping for any comfort at all, there was no such thing, to be thought of, as sitting, or extending myself; nor is there any place void, to receive one; though yet they had put me into that thing, which is like a hole in a wall; because even those very walls, which are also most hideous to the sight, do even press their very selves close, towards, and upon one another; and every thing there, helps to choke. There is also no light in that place; but all is gross, and even palpable darkness. For my part, I understand not, how this can be; for, with having no light at all, yet all that, which may be able to give any vexation to the Sight, is discerned, and seen. Our Lord was not pleased, at that time, that I should see any more of Hell; but afterward I had another Vision, of most fearful things, and of the punishment of certain particular vices. And, forasmuch as I might be able to discern, and judge of, by the sight, these seemed to be even more hideous, than the former; but yet, in regard, that I felt not the pain of it, they made me not so much afraid. For in this other present Vision, our Lord was pleased, that I should really feel those torments, and afflictions in Spirit, even as if my very Body, had been suffering them there.  

* The excellent fruits, which this Saint did gather from this great Favour, which seems to be the sole cause why our B. Lord was pleased to impair this Favour.  I know not, how all this could be; but yet I understood well enough, that it was a very great Favour; and that our Lord was pleased, that I should discern, as even by the very sight of mine own eyes, from whence his great mercy, had delivered me. For it is nothing, to have heard talk of it; nor that, at other times, I had considered several sorts of torments; (though yet I did it not often; for I liked not that, very well, in regard of the fear it gave me) nor yet, that the Devils are wont to tear men in pieces, with hot pincers; nor any other thing, whereof I had read; for, all, in fine, is nothing, if once it be compared to this; Since this is wholly another kind of thing; and the torments of this world, (compared with this) are no more, than a mere Picture, in comparison of the Life; the very burning, which is felt in this world, being but a very trifle, in respect of that other. For my part, I remained astonished, and amazed at it, and so I am, even whilst I am writing these things, though it happened to me six years ago. And it is a most real truth, that even now, in the very place, where I am but thinking of them, the natural heat of my body, begins to fail me, even for very fear. Not do I ever remember, what passed then; but that all my afflictions, and troubles, and whatsoever can be suffered in this life, seemed nothing to me; and so also, me thinks, it seems, that, in part, we complain here, without reason. And therefore I say again, that this was one of the greatest Favours, that I ever received, in my whole life, at the hands of our Lord. For it 
* The great benefit of this Favour.  hath benefited me very much, both towards the making me lose all fear, and care, concerning the tribulations, and contradictions of this life; as also, to give me strength, towards the enduring them; and finally, to render thanks to our Blessed Lord, for delivering me (as now I may hope) from those terrible, and perpetual torments.  
Since that time, as I was saying, there is nothing, which seems not easy to me, in comparison of one moment of that, which is to be suffered there. And I was in a very great wonder, that, having so often read divers Books, which give me some notice of a part of the torments of Hell, I feared them so little, and held them in so small account, considering in what case I was then, and how it was possible for me, to receive contentment in any such thing, as finally was to carry me on, to so wretched a place, as that is. Be thou eternally Blessed, O my God; for, how well hast thou made it appear, that thou lovedst me incomparably better, than I do myself? How often, O my dear Lord, hast thou delivered me; from that dark, and horrible Dungeon? and how often have I returned, to cast myself in, thither, again, even against thy will? From hence also I got a facility, to be in very great pain, for the many Souls of these Lutherans, which are condemned to Hell; and especially, because they had once been members of the Holy Catholic Church, by their Baptism. I gained also great impulses, to do good to Souls; and really, it seems to me, to be very certain, that, for the saving of any of them, from so grievous, and everlasting torments, I could suffer many deaths, with a very good will. For, I consider, that if we see a person in this world, whom we love, undergo any great affliction, or pain, it seems, that even our natural disposition invites us, to have compassion of the case; and so much as that pain is greater, so much the more. And therefore, now, to see a Soul, which is, for ever, to be enchained, to the enduring of that supreme affliction, and misery of all miseries, who shall be able to bear it, and what hart, can ever brook it, without strange trouble? And since we are moved here, to so much compassion of men, whose miseries have yet a term prefixed, (and at the furthest, they are to end with their lives) how shall we be able to get patience, for thinking of the infinite torments of those others, considering, what a huge number of Souls, the Devil is daily carrying into Hell? This consideration also makes me desire, that, in a business of so mighty importance, we may not be satisfied with less, than the doing of the very uttermost we can, on our part; and that we leave nothing at all, unattempted, to secure ourselves by that means; and I humbly beseech our Blessed Lord, to give us all, his grace, for this purpose.  
When I consider, that, howsoever I were formerly most wicked, yet had I some little care, to serve Almighty God; not yet, did I then commit certain things, which are taken and swallowed down, by the world, as familiarly, as to turn the hand. And, with this, I endured huge sicknesses; and I did it, with that great patience, which our Lord was pleased to give me, for that purpose; and I was also not inclined to murmur, and detract, or to speak hardly of any Creature; nay, it seems to me, as if I scarce had power, to with any body any ill; nor was I covetous, nor envious, (for any thing, that I could ever remember) at least, to any such proportion, as might result to the great offence of Almighty God. And some other things also there are, wherein (though I were very wicked) I had usually, the fear of Almighty God before me. And yet, notwithstanding all this, I see where the Devils 
* Vide supra fol: 471.  had taken up, and provided my lodging; and it is true, that, considering what my faults had been, it seemed to me, that I yet deserved more punishment.  
But howsoever, upon the whole matter, I declare, that it was a most horrible torment; and and that it is a dangerous thing, that the Soul should take contentment, and be at rest, which is falling, every minute, into Mortal Sinne. Nay rather, for the love of Almighty God, let us remove all the occasions thereof; for, our Lord will help us all, as he hath done me. And I humbly beseech his Divine Majesty, not to give over, to hold me fast, in his hand, lest, if he do, I return to fall; for, in that case, I see already, what is to become of me for ever; but I beseech our B. Lord again, not to suffer it, even for his own mercy's sake, Amen.  
But now, after my seeing all this, as also many other great things, and secrets, which our Lord, through his own mercy, was pleased to show me, concerning the Glory, which is designed in the next life, for the good, and the Torments, for the wicked; and I procuring now, to light upon some way, or means, whereby I might do Penance, for so much ill, as I had committed, and might be able also, to do somewhat, towards the obtaining of so great a good, I desired, even to fly out of the sight of mankind, and now at length, once for all, to divide myself from the world, and to part from it. And my hart would now be quiet no longer, but yet was not that disquiet of mine, any troublesome kind of thing, but rather of contentment, and gust; and it was evident, that it came from Almighty God; and that his Divine Majesty had given heat enough, to this Soul of mine, for the digesting of other, and stronger meats, than she had formerly taken. 
* A sweet Effect, of a sad Cause.  And now, I began to consider, what I might possibly he able to do, for Almighty God; and the first thing, I thought, was to follow that first Call, which his Divine Majesty had given me, to lead a Religious Life; and that, by the Observance of my Rule, with the greatest perfection, that I could practise. And though there were, in the Monastery, wherein I found myself at that time, many Servants of Almighty God, by whom he was very much served, in that place, yet in regard, they wanted temporal means, many of the Religious women, were cast into a kind of necessity, to go abroad sometimes, for relief of the House; but yet they did it so, as to pass, with all kind of chastity, and piety. And besides, that House was not founded according to the first rigour of the Rule; but only the same Rule, was observed, in conformity with all the rest of the Order, according to the Bulls of Relaxation, and dispensation. There were also, some other inconveniences; and besides, it seemed to me, that the place was of much Regalo, in regard, that it was, both large, and pleasant. But especially, the inconvenience of going sometimes out of the Monastery, was grown to be a very great one for me; though formerly, I had been one, who made most familiar use of it myself; in regard that sometimes, some persons, whom the Superiors (being importuned) could not well refuse, took contentment, that I should accompany them, who went abroad. And, by this means, according to the use, which was held, I might grow by degrees, to remain very little in the Monastery. The Devil also would be sure to help, to be partly a means, that I might remain little at home; for always, by my imparting to some of the Religious there, those good things, which I had learned of others, with whom I used to converse, they received much advantage and good. But yet once, being there with a certain person, it happened, that she said, both to me, and others: What say you, if we should become, like those Religious women, who go barefoot; for perhaps, it may be possible, in time, to make some Monastery of that kind? But now I, having also these very same desires, began to treat the business, with that Widow, my Companion, and Friend, of whom I spoke before; who had also the same desire with me. Upon this, she began to cast, how to endue it with Rent; but I came quickly to find, that there was no great probability of that; though the desire, which we had thereof, made us yet believe, that it might perhaps, take effect. But I, on the other side, (finding great contentment, in the House, where I was, because it was much according to mine own mind; and the Cell, wherein I lived, was of very great conventences for me,) suspended myself, from being earnest, in the execution of that other design; though yet, we did resolve, to recommend it, in particular manner, to Almighty God. And one day, as soon as I had Communicated, his Divine Majesty commanded me, in earnest manner, to endeavour it, to the very utter most of my power. And he was pleased to make me great promises, that the Monastery should not fail to be made; and that he would be served much in it; and that it should be called by the name of S. joseph; and that himself, would keep us safe, at one of the gates, and his Mother our B. Lady, at the other; and that Christ our Lord would continue with us; and that the place should prove, to be even a Star, which would yield great brightness, and splendour, of itself; and that, though other Religious Orders, were then relaxed, men must not think, that he was but little served by them; and what should become of the world, if it were not for Religious persons? And that I should tell my Ghostly Father, that he had commanded me all this; and that he wished him, not to oppose it, nor to divert me from it. And this Vision, which our Blessed Lord was pleased to give me, was followed by so great effects, that the Speech, which was used therein, was such, and uttered in such a manner, that I could not possibly doubt, but that it was he. How soever, I was still, in extreme pain, because the great disquiets, and troubles, which I was sure the thing would cost, did partly represent themselves, to me; and considering, how extremely well content I was, in that first House; and though formerly I had treated of this other business, yet it was not with any such resolution, and certainty, as if it might be sure, to take effect.  
Now, here it seemed to me, that the reward set itself instantly before me, for the doing it; but yet, when I saw, that it was likely to be a thing of very great disquiet, and trouble, I was still in a kind of doubt, what I would finally do. And yet, they were so many several times, that our Lord renewed his Speech to me, upon this subject, (representing so many causes, and reasons, for it) that I saw clearly enough, that it was his will. So that now, I thought no more of any thing else, but only to acquaint my Ghostly Father, with it; and so I gave him all that, which had occurred, in writing. As for him, he durst not resolutly will me, to give it over; but saw, that there was little appearance, to carry it through, according to the discourse of natural reason; in regard, that my Companion, and Friend, who was the only person, who was to do it, had very little, or no means, to effect it. He wished me, to treat of it with the Prelate, who was my Superior; and that I should do therein, what he ordained. But I spoke not of these Visions, with that Prelate; but that Lady treated with him, and told him, that she desired to erect a new Monastery; and the Provincial did very gladly give way; for he was a friend of all Religious Observance, and Piety; and so he afforded all the favour, which was needful; and told her, that he would admit, and accept the House. They spoke then, of the Revenue, which it was to have; and we never inclined, to let it consist of more, than Thirteen Religious; & this, for many reasons. But, before we began to treat of the matter, thus far, we wrote to the holy man, Fray Pedro de Alcantara, and acquainted him, with all that, which passed; and he counselled us to proceed in this design; and he sent us his opinion, upon the whole business.  
But now, this purpose of ours, was no sooner known over the Town, than there did instantly grow, to be such a persecution against us, as cannot be written, in few words. The scoffs, the icares, the laughing, the saying that it was a Foolery, and senseless toy; That, for my part, I was well enough in my Monastery; but for my Companion, and friend, they cast such a load of persecution upon her, that they even overlaid her. As for me, I knew not, what to do; for me thought, that they had partly some reason.  
But being thus distressed, and recommending myself one day, to Almighty God, his Divine Majesty began to comfort, and encourage me, and told me, that now I might see, through what difficulties those Saints had passed, who had founded the Religious Orders of the Church; and that we were to pass through many more persecutions, than I could imagine; but that yet, we should not be troubled, at all. He told me also some things, which I was to deliver to my Companion; and the thing, at which I wondered most, was, that instantly we were comforted, in respect of all that, which was passed; and encouraged for all that, which was to be future. And it is certain, that there was not, in all that Town, any one person of Prayer; nay, in fine, there was scarce any one at all, who did not oppose us, at that time, and who thought not this design, to be a most senseless thing. There were so many jests, and learing, and stirs, in our very Monastery, that now even the Provincial opposed himself stiffly, against us; and he changed his former opinion, and now would no longer admit the House; but said, that the Rent was both little, and besides, not very secure; and that there was very great contradiction. He seemed to have reason in all; and, in fine, he gave-over the business, and would not admit the House.  
Now we, who had already received the first blows, upon our own heads, were greatly troubled at it; but particularly, it struck me much, that the Provincial was now found, to be opposite; for if he had still liked it, myself had been excused, and discharged, with all the world. But yet, they were not so favourable, to my Companion; for, her they would not absolve, but left her to herself; yea and they said, that she was obliged to take away the scandal.  
She went therefore, to a great learned man, and a great Servant of God, of S. Dominicks Order, to tell him, what had passed; and, indeed, to give him account, of the whole business. And this was, before the Provincial had given it over; for, now there was no Creature in the whole Town, who would give us any opinion, in the Case; and therefore, they might well affirm, as they did, that we proceeded, in all this, of our own heads. But that Lady made relation of the whole business, to this holy man; and acquainted him with the Rent, which she meant to settle upon it, out of her own Estate, with much desire, that he would assist us; for, he was the greatest learned man, in all that Town, at that time; and perhaps, there were not many, more learned, in his whole Order. I told him also, of all that, which we intended to do, and some motives thereof; but I acquainted him not, with any Revelation of mine, but only with those natural reasons, which moved me. For, I desired not, that he should give us any opinion, but according to them; And he, on the other side, wished, that we would give him the rearme of eight days, wherein to answer. He asked us also then, whether we were resolved to do that very thing, which he should direct; and I told him, we were. But though I said thus much; and, me thinks, I would have done, as I said, yet did I never lose assurance, that the Monastery, in fine, would be made. My Companion had yet a stronger Faith; for, whatsoever they might say to her, she would never give-over to execute the design. But now, though I held it impossible, but that the work would be done (so assuredly did I believe, that the Revelation aforesaid, was true, (provided always, that it were found to contain nothing, either against Holy Scripture, or the Decrees of the Church, which we are bound to believe, and observe) yet (howsoever (as I said before) I conceived that that Revelation was really of Almighty God) if still that learned man had told me, that we could not effect the thing, without offending his Divine Majesty, and that we should have sinned against good Conscience, by procuring it, I conceive that I should instantly have given it over, and soughtout some other means, for my relief; but, for the present, our Lord imparted none, but this, to me.  
But now, this Servant of Almighty God, told me, that he had taken this business into his care, together with a full resolution, to employ himself earnestly, in procuring, that we might give-over our purpose; because the clamour of the people against it, had already come to his notice; and so also, had it appeared to every Creature, to be an impertinency; and besides, that a certain Cavallier of the Town, as soon as he had understood, that we intended to speak with the Father, sent to him, to advise him, to consider well what he did; and that by no means, he should help us; yet, that now, himself, beginning to consider, what he was to answer us, and to reflect seriously upon the business, and upon the intention, which we had, and with what good order, and Religious manner we proceeded, he resolved, in fine, that it would be a thing, resulting much, to the Service of Almighty God; and that we should, by no means, forbear, to put it in execution. And, in conformity to this, his answer was, That we should make what hast we could, to conclude it; And he also let us know his opinion, of the way, and manner, which we were best to hold in it; and that, though the Rent were little, yet Almighty God was to be trusted with somewhat; And that for his part, he desired, that whosoever should contradict, or oppose it, might be sent to him; for he would know very well, what to answer; And accordingly, he assisted us ever, as I shall declare hereafter.  
With this, we went, much comforted, away; as also, in that we found, how some holy persons of that place, who formerly had been opposite to us, grew now to be appeased; and some of them, did also assist us; and amongst them, was that holy Cavalier, of whom I made mention before. Who, in regard that our pretence seemed to aspire to great perfection, as indeed it doth, (because it is wholly grounded in Prayer) he gave-up this opinion, and Vote, That, howsoever the means, whereby things must be effected, seemed to carry much difficulty with them, and to be without great appearance of success, yet perhaps, that it might fallout to be of Almighty God. Now, it may be, that our Blessed Lord disposed him, to be of this mind; and the Doctor also, that Priest, and Servant of Almighty God, whom I related to have voted first, and who is the very Mirror of all that Town, & the person, whom Almighty God perserues there, for the good of many Souls, was now also grown already to assist me in the business. And thus we were come to this condition, by the help of many Prayers; and now already, we had bought the House, in a good part of the Town, though but a poor one; but I value not that, at all; for, our Lord had told me before, that I should enter, as well as I could, and that afterward, I should find, what his Divine Majesty would do; and that, have I seen well performed. And so, although I found, that we had but little means, yet I believed, that our Blessed Lord would take order, that we should be favoured, by other ways.   

THE THREE AND THIRTIETH CHAPTER.  
She proceeds in the same Subject of the Foundation of the Monastery of the Glorious S. joseph. She declares, how she was commanded to attend to that business; and of the time, when she forbore to follow it; and of some troubles, which she had; and how she was comforted in them, by our Blessed Lord.  
THis business being now in such case, and so near the point of final dispatch, that they were to draw-up the Writings the very next day following, it fell out to be just then, when our Provincial grew to change his latter opinion, and return to his former, and I believe, he was moved to it, by Divine ordination, as we shall see afterward. For, our Prayers, having been so many, as indeed they were, it seems that our Blessed Lord went perfecting the work, and appointing that it should be dispatched, though after a different manner, from what we conceived. But when once the said Provincial had formerly refused to admit of the House, my Ghostly Father gave me a commandment, that I should now, think no more of that matter. And yet, our Lord best knows, what troubles, and afflictions, it had cost me, before I could ever bring it to that state, and condition, wherein then it was. But now, the thing being given over, all that former imputation was confirmed; Namely, that it was nothing, but an impertinency of women; and their murmurings came particularly upon me; though, till that time, the Provincial had commanded it, to be done. In the mean while, I grew to be very ill beloved, in the Monastery, because I went about to make a new one, which might be of more strict Enclosure. For they said, That I affronted them, by it; and, That God might be as well served there; and, That there were better amongst them, than myself; and, that now, they discovered well enough, that I carried no true love, to that House; That it had been much better done, to procure to get Revenues, and Rents, for that place, then for any other. Yea and now, there wanted not some, who advised, that I might be carried to Prison; and there were but very few, who did, in any kind, take my part. As for me, I saw, that they had reason, in very much, of what they said; and sometimes, I would be making my excuses, though yet I were not able to tell them the chief motive thereof, which was, that I had been commanded to do it, by our Blessed Lord. I knew not therefore well, what to say; and so I thought it fitter, to hold my peace. At other times, it pleased our Lord, to do me very great Favours; for, this of the Monastery, put me now, to no disquiet at all; but I gave it over, with as much facility, and gust, as if it had never cost me any pains, or care. Yet this, could no Creature believe, no not even those persons of Prayer, with whom I conversed; but they conceived, that I was full of trouble, yea and of shame; and even my Ghostly Father himself, did not absolutely believe the contrary. But, as for me, when I considered, that I had done whatsoever I could, on my part, I thought I was no further obliged, to the effecting of what our Lord had commanded me. I remained still, in the Monastery; and I found myself with much contentment, and gust; yet even still, I knew not well, how to imagine, but that the thing, would be done, sooner, or later; and of this, I had no fear at all, though I knew not, either how, or when; but only I believed, that it would be certainly done.  
That, which troubled me extremely, was, that once my Ghostly Father gave me a great Mortification, as if I had done somewhat against his will. But, it seems, our Lord was pleased, that I should be in some affliction, even by occasion of that, which was most tender, and dear, to me. For, whilst I was in this multitude of persecutions, when I expected, that some kind of comfort would be coming towards me, he wrote me a Letter, to this effect: That 
* A sad, and strange proceeding.  now he hoped. I saw, by what occurred, that all had been nothing, but a Dream; That I should do well, to reform myself hereafter, so far, as not to pretend, to meddle any more with any business, nor to be talking any more of this, in particular; for that, I could not, but see well enough, what a scandal was grown upon it; and other things he also said, which did all serve for nothing at all, but only, to put me to pain. This, I confess, gave me more trouble, than all those other things, put together; as conceauing, or at 
* How one suspicion, u want to third itself close, upon another.  least, as doubting, whether I might not have been the occasion, of all the ill, which had happened; and whether I might not have committed some such error, as whereby Almighty God, might have been offended; nay, whether these Visions of mine, had not been Illusions; and so consequérly, whether my whole course of Prayer, had not been of the Devil; and whether, finally, I were not then, in a plain state of error, and perdition. This, I confess, oppressed me, with so great extremity, that I grew to be all, in disorder, and subject to extreme affliction. But our Lord, who was never wanting to me, in all those troubles of mine, which I have expressed, was often pleased to comfort, and strengthen me; though I need not stand here, to relate it. And he told me also then, that I should not vex myself; That I had greatly served his Divine Majesty, in that business; and not offended him at all; That, for the present, I should do, what my Ghostly Father had commanded me, in holding my peace, till it should be fit to renew the business. And, in the mean time, I remained full of contentment, and consolation; and I held all that persecution, for nothing, which had come upon me, till then.  
But now, by this means, I was taught, by our Blessed Lord, what a very great benefit it is, to endure troubles, and persecutions, for his sake. For, so much was the love of Almighty God increased in my Soul, by this means, as were also many other virtues, that I was amazed at it; and this, in fine, is the reason, why I cannot but desire afflictions, and troubles. But the while, those other persons, thought, that I was extremely out of countenance, with what had happened; and certainly I should have been so, indeed, if our Lord had not been pleased, to comfort me so highly, with that great Favour. But than did those strong impulses, and impetuosities of the Love of Almighty God, whereof I have formerly spoken, begin to increase, more and more; and I also came to have greater Rapts; though yet, I acquainted no Creature, with the gain, which I had gotten by it.  
In the mean time, that holy man, the Dominican, did never give-over to believe, that the business would be sure to take effect, even as well, as I believed it, myself. But I would take no knowledge of that, because I was resolved, not to swerve from what I had been commanded, by my Ghostly Father. The Dominican negotiated also the Business, together with my Companion, and friend; and they wrote about it, to Rome, and made their Propositions, there. And the while, did the Devil here, by carrying things, from one person to another, procure to make it known, that I had had some Revelation, in this business. Upon this, some came to tell me, with a great deal of apprehension, and fear, that I should do well, to look to myself; and that the times were strict, and shrewd; and that, perhaps, men might lay some things to my charge, and go on, even to the Inquisitours, by way of complaint. But this, I confess, made me sport, and I began, to laugh at it; for it was never my case, to be afraid of any such thing as this; as knowing very well, of myself, that in all things, which concerned Catholic Faith, yea even to the least Ceremony of the Church, I was totally, for it; and that also, for the least word of Holy Scripture, I would expose myself, a thousand times, to death. And therefore I desired them, not to trouble themselves, concerning me, in this point; and that my Soul were miserable enough, and too much, if any such thing could be found in it, as might put me into any fear of the Inquisition; That, if I thought, there were any ground, or cause, myself would be the first, to go thither; and that if it were a slander, raised up against me, our Lord would deliver me, from it; and I should prove the Gainer, by that Bargain.  
Now, I treated of this matter, with the Dominican Father, who (as I said) was so very learned a man, that I might well assure myself, upon whatsoever he should declare to me heerin. And I told him then, upon this occasion, with the greatest clearness, that I could possibly use, of all the Visions, which I had had; and of the manner of Prayer, which I had used; and of the great Favours, which our Blessed Lord had been pleased to do me; and I humbly prayed him, to consider all these things, very well; and to let me understand, if there were any thing at all, in any of them, against Holy Scripture; and that also, he would acquaint me, with the judgement, which he made thereof. Now, all this he did; and so, settled and secured me, very much; and I grow to be also of opinion, that this accident, was of much advantage, even to him. For, though he were formerly, very good, yet he gave himself, much more to Prayer, from that time forward; and withdrew himself, to a certain retired Monastery, of his own Order, which was a place of great Solitude, and silence; to the end, that so, he might exercise himself the better, in Prayer. He remained there, above two years; and then, Obedience to his Order, took him from thence; for which he was sorry enough. But they had need of such a man, as he was; & I was no less grieved, when he went from me, through the great want, which I was sure, I should have of him; though yet I knew, withal, that he would be a gainer, by it. And whilst I was in pain, about his journey, our Lord bade me be comforted, and not troubled, for that he went away, to good purpose. And indeed, he came back again afterward, with his Soul, so well improved, and advanced, in the way of Spirit, that himself told me, at his return, how he would not, for any thing of this world, but that he had gone. And I also, could say the same; for, whereas he had formerly given me assurances, and comforts, but only by his Letters, he was now grown able to do it also, through the great experience, which he was come to have in Spirit, and of Supernatural things. And it also pleased Almighty God, to bring him back to us, at such a time, as when his Divine Majesty saw, that there would be need of him, for assisting his work concerning this Monastery, which, his will was, should go forward.  
But, in the mean time, I remained in silence, for a matter of some five, or six months; not hearing, or saying any thing, of this business; nor did our Blessed Lord command me any thing, about it; nor understood I the reason thereof; but yet still, I could not part with the belief, but that the business would be done, sooner, or later.  
But at the end of that time aforesaid, the rector of the College of the Society of JESUS, who had been there, till then, being now to remove from hence, his Divine Majesty brought another to be in his place, who was a very Spiritual person, and of great courage, and understanding, and Learning; and he came, at a certain time, when I was in very great need of help. For, in regard, that he, who was my Ghostly Father, had a Superior over himself, and by reason that they have this virtue in perfection, not so much as once to stir, but in conformity to the will of their Superiors; and though this Ghostly Father of mine, had a very good understanding of my Spirit, and desired, that I might profit, & proceed, he yet adventured not to conclude some things, with a firm resolution, for divers reasons, which he had for it, And on the other side, my Spirit did press already, to pass on, with certain impulses, and impetuosities, which were so great, that I found it a very troublesome thing, to be tied short; and yet for all this, I resolved, not to exceed those bounds at all, which he had prescribed. And being one day, in much affliction, as conceauing, that my Ghostly Father did not believe me, it pleased our B. Lord, to require me, not to trouble myself; affirming, that that difficulty would be soon at an end. For my part, I was much joyed by this, as conceauing, that I was quickly to die; and I was wont particularly to rejoice, when I remembered it. But afterward, I saw clearly, that his Speech, concerned the coming of this new rector, of whom I spoke; and afterward, I never had any occasion to be in pain, in regard that this said new rector, contradicted not the Sub-Rectour, who was my Confessarius; but rather 
* A holy & wise man.  directed him, to give me comfort, and scope; and that there was no cause of fear; and that he should not conduct my Soul, by such strait, & narrow ways, and with such restrictions; but should permit the Spirit of our Lord, to work in me. For indeed, at some times it seemed, that by reason of those great impetuosities of Spirit, the Soul had scarce room, for so much as to breath.  
I went then, to visit this rector; and my Ghostly Father required me, to treat with him, with all liberty, and clearness. As for me, I was wont, to find very great difficulty, to declare myself in that kind; but yet really, it is very true, that even at my very first entrance into the Confessionarie, I felt a kind of, I cannot tell, what, to call it, in my Spirit, which I remember not, myself to have ever found, by occasion of any Creature, either before, or after; nor can I distinctly tell, how it was; nor yet am I able, to express it fully, by any way of Comparison. But it was a certain Spiritual joy, and a kind of understanding, which my Soul had, that the Soul of that man, would be able to understand me; and that there would be a kind of conformity in judgement, between us two, although (as I was saying) I understood not, how. If indeed, I had ever spoken with him before; or if others had peradventure given me any great news of the man, it had not been very strange, that it should joy me, when I came to understand, that he was to hear me. But neither he, nor I, had ever spoken word to one another; nor was there any one, by whose means, I had ever had any notice at all, of him; and yet, since that time, I have seen very well, that my Spirit deceived me not; because it hath been of great advantage in all kinds, both to my Soul, and me, to treat with him. For, his kind of conversation, and way of conference, and communication, is a thing of great importance, for such persons, as our Lord seems to have forwarded much, in the way of Spirit; for, he makes them runne-on apace, and not go, foot by foot. And his manner is, to untie them sound, and totally, from all Creatures; and to put them, to the exercise, and practise of Mortification; for, in this, our Blessed Lord hath imparted a most particular talon to him, as he hath also done, in many other things. Now, as soon as I began to communicate my affairs with him, I instantly understood his stile, and way of proceeding; and I found, that he had a holy, and pure Soul; and that our Lord had given him a particular talent in the trying, and knowing of Spirits. So that I was comforted, both much, and very soon, after I had once communicated with him; and our Blessed Lord began again, to press me, towards a treating of the Business of the Monastery; and that I should declare, both to my Ghostly Father, and to this rector, the many grounds, and reasons, why they were not to dissuade, and divert me from it; and some of them, made them heartily afraid to do it. For, this Father rector, never did so much as doubt, but that it was the Spirit of Almighty God, because he had beheld, and considered the effects, with very great study, and care. In fine, after the consideration of many things, they durst not presume to divert me; and my Ghostly Father did again give me leave, to use all the endeavour I could; and yet, I was able, to see very well, what a great deal of trouble it would give me, in regard I was so utterly alone, and had very little power, to effect any thing. But we agreed, that it should be carried with great privacy; and therefore I procured, that a certain Sister of mine, who lived elsewhere, should buy, and build the House, as if it were for herself; and that it should be done with money, which our Lord found means. by certain ways, wherewith to pay for it. But it would be a long business, to tell you, how his Divine Majesty, went providing it; for, as for me, I desired to be very sure, to do nothing, which might be against Obedience. But I was not then to learn, that, if I told any thing to the Superiors of my Order, the whole Business would be lost, as it was before; yea and that, if I did so now, it would fallout to be worse. In the point of getting money, for making the bargain for a Seat, and for building also the House, I endured many troubles; and some of them, all alone; though yet my Companion, and friend, did also the best she could. But, in fine, she could do little, and indeed so very little, that, upon the matter, it was a kind of nothing, but only to take upon her the name, and to lend it her countenance; for, all the rest of the trouble, I was mine; and it came upon me, so very many ways, that I do even wonder, now, how I was able, to endure it, then.  
Sometimes, when I was full of affliction, I would be uttering myself, to Almighty God, after this manner: O my dear Lord, how comest thou to command me things, which seem impossible? For, though I be a woman, yet if I had liberty, perhaps something might be done; but being tied up, in all respects, without money, and without knowing, where to get any, whereby either the Breve, or any thing else, may be had, what can I do, O Lord? But being once in a certain necessity, and not knowing, which way to turn myself; and not being able to pay the workmen, S. joseph, my true Father, and Patron, appeared to me, and told me, that, money would not be wanting to me; and therefore, that I should make the agreement; and so I did, even when I had no money at all; and afterward, our Blessed Lord provided it, by so strange ways, that they, who heard of it, were amazed.  
But now, me thought, the House showed to be very little; and indeed, it was so, and in that extremity, that it seemed not capable, of being ever able to be a Monastery; and I had a good mind, to buy another House; but neither had I, wherewithal to do it, nor otherwise, any means to procure it; though there were yet, a very little one, joining to it, whereof a Church might be made. But after I had Communicated, one day, our Lord said thus to me: I have already willed thee, to begin, as thou mayest. And then, after the manner of exclamation, he said thus also to me: O the tovetousues of the race of mankind; which thinks, that it shall want even earth, upon which to tread! How often have I slept in the open air, as not knowing, where to lay my head? Upon this, I was amazed, and found that he had reason; and so I went to that little House, and ordered it. And though it were very little, yet it was just fit, to make such a kind of Monastery; and I made it no more my business, to compass a larger Seat, but procured, to build upon that, in such sort, as it might be fit to be inhabited, all course, and rude, and without any other mystery, but only, that it might not be hurtful, in point of health; and so it shall ever remain.  
Upon the day of S. Clare, I going to receive the B. Sacrament, she appeared to me, in very great beauty, and bade me be of a good courage, and go on, in the work which I had begun; and that she would assist me. And this hath proved so true, that a Monastery of Religious women, of her Order, which is near this; doth help to sustain, and feed us; and (which yet is more) she hath, by little and little, brought this desire of mine, to such perfection, that the selfsame poverty, which that Blessed Saint established in her House, is exercised also in this; and we live of Alms; which point, hath cost me no small trouble, in getting it confirmed, by His Holiness; and to be further also established, in such sort, as that no innovation may be made, not the House be ever capable of Rent. And now doth our Blessed Lord even more than this; and perhaps, the same may grow, by the intercession of this Blessed Saint; for, his Divine Majesty provides us with all things necessary, in most complete manner, without our ever ask any thing, of any Creature. Let him be Blessed for all things, Amen.  
But I, being about that time, upon the Day of the Assumption of our B. Lady, in a certain Monastery of the Glorious S. Dominicks Order, I was considering the many Sins of my former time, (which I had Confessed in that House) and the accidents of my wicked life; and suddenly, there came so great a Rapt upon me, that it took me, in effect, wholly out of myself. I than sat down; and yet it seemed to me, that I was not able, either to hear Mass, or so much, as to see the Elevation; for which, I remained afterward, with some scruple. Now, it seemed to me, that, whilst I found myself in that condition, I was apparelled with a certain 
* All these things, and the like; as namely, Darts, or Chains, or Crowns, or jewels etc. are not to be understood after a gross. & material way, but yet, that really they have truth, in their being represented distinctly, & clearly, to the Imagination of the Parties; and they chiefly serve, as testimonies, & Signs, of those interior graces, & virtues, which use to be imprinted upon Souls, at those very times, by the mercy of our B. Lord.  Garment of much whiteness, and clearness; and at the first, I could not tell, who it was, that clothed me; but afterward, I saw our B. Lady, on the right hand, and my Father, S. joseph, on the left, who apparelled me then, with that Robe; and it was given me to be understood, that I was now grown, to be cleansed, from my Sins. When thus I was apparelled, and found myself full of joy, and glory, it instantly seemed to me, that our B. Lady laid hold upon me, and told me, That it contented her much, to see me serve the Glorious S. joseph; That I was to believe, that, what I pretended, concerning the Monastery, should be effected; and, That our Lord, and they two, would be much served, there; That I must not be afraid, that ever there would be any failing therein, howsoever some commandments, which might fall out to be imposed upon me, would not be according to my gust; for, even themselves, in fine, would defend, and keep us; That her Son had already promised, that he would be, and remain with us; and in testimony that all this should prove true, she cast a fair, and bright Chain of gold about my neck, with a Cross fastened to it, of great value. But this Gold, and these Precious Stones, are so very different from those of this world, that there is no manner of comparison between them; for, the beauty of these, is far other, than any thing, which we can imagine here. Nor doth humane Understanding arrive to know, of what the Garment was made; nor how to fancy that clear whiteness to itself, which our Lord is pleased to represent; for, all that, of this inferior world, is no better, than a kind of scratch, with a coal, as a man may say, in respect of the other. The beauty also, which I saw in our B. Lady, was excessive, though yet I could not determine the form, or figure of any particular part, which I might assign her, but only the frame, and air of the whole face together. She was apparelled in white, with excess of splendour; but yet of no such kind, as dazzles, but most dearly sweet. As for the Glorious S. joseph, I saw not him so clearly; though yet, I well perceived, that he was there; like those Visions, whereof I spoke, which are not seen. Our B. Lady, was extraordinatily young; and she remained with me, a very little while; and I had excessive glory, and gust by it; and more, in my opinion, than ever I had enjoyed before; and I would certainly have been glad enough, if I might never have left it. It seemed to me, that I saw them both, ascend to Heaven, with a very great multitude of Angels; and I, the while, remained in much Solitude; though yet withal, so comforted, and elevated, and even dissolved, and recollected in Prayer, that I remained, for some space of time, in such sort, as not to be able, either to speak, or stir; but I was wholly, as it were, out of myself. And I continued with a great impulse of desire, to be even as it were, annihilated, for Almighty God; and I found also such effects thereof; and the whole, passed-on in such sort, as that I was never able, (though I endeavoured much) to doubt, but that this Visitation was of Almighty God.  
The Queen of the Angels left me topp-full of comfort, and of profound peace, by what she said to me, of Obedience; and the Case, was this. For my part, I was very unwilling, not to give this House up, to the Order; and indeed our Lord himself had told me, that it was not fit, that they should have it; and he also delivered me the reasons, why it was not, by any means, fit; but that I should send about it, to Rome, by a certain way; and he also made me know, that he would cause it to be dispatched, from thence; and so it was. And it was sent by that very means, whereof our Lord had told me; but we should never have finally been able to dispatch it, of ourselves; and upon the occasions, which succeeded afterward, it was very fit, that it should be submitted, by way of Obedience, to the Bishop. Yet then, I knew him not, nor understood, what kind of Prelate he was; but our Lord was pleased, that he should be so good, and should favour this House, as much as was fit, yea and even necessary, for the encountering of that great contradiction, which occurred heerin; as I shall declare afterward; and to put it into that state, wherein now it is. And let him be ever Blessed, who hath so disposed of all,  
Amen.   

THE FOUR AND THIRTIETH CHAPTER.  
She declares, how at this time she was necessarily to go from that place; and she shows the cause thereof; and how her Superior commanded her to go, for the comfort of a certain Lady, who was much afflicted. She begins to treat of that, which happened to her there; and of the great favour, which it pleased our Lord to do, by her means, in stirring-up a very principal person, to do him great service; and how afterwards, she received much favour, and protection from him. This is an admirable Discourse; and very much to be noted.  
But, notwithstanding all the care I took, that men might not know, what we were doing, this whole Business, could not be carried with so much secrecy, but that many, must needs understand it; and some of them did believe it; and others, not. For my part, I was heartily afraid, that, if the Provincial should come, and they chance to tell him of it, he would command me to give it over; and then, the whole design would be at an end. But our Lord ordained things, in such sort, that, about à matter of twenty leagues off, it occurred, that there was a certain Lady, very much afflicted, by the death of her Husband; and she found herself, in such extremity thereby, that her health was much concerned; and feared. Now, she had gotten some notice of 
* She means herself.  this miserable poor wretched Sinner; for it seems, that our Lord had ordained already, that they should speak well of me, in her hearing, for the effecting of other good things, which depended upon this. This Lady was very well acquainted with this Provincial; and he, considering, what a principal person she was, and that I was in a Monastery, which kept not Clausure, our Lord gave her so great a desire to see me, (as conceauing, that she should receive comfort, by my means) that it was almost no longer now, in her power, not instantly to procure, by all possible endeavour, to get me thither; and so she sent to the Provincial, who was very far off, at that time; and accordingly he also sent me an express commandment, under Obedience, that forthwith I should transport myself thither, with a Companion. Now, I came to know of this, upon a Christmasse-Day, at night; and it put me into much disorder, and gave me a great deal of pain, to find, that they resolved to carry me away, as conceauing, that there was some goodness in me. For, considering how wicked I knew myself to be, I could, by no means, endure it; but so, recommending myself much to Almighty God. I remained, during all the time of Matins, or at least the far larger part thereof, in a very great Rapt. Our Lord declared to me then, that I should not fail to go, and that I was not to hearken to the opinions of others; for few would think, without rashness, that they could advise me to go; but that, howsoever the journey might be of much trouble to me, yet that he would be greatly served thereby; and that it would be also very convenient, that I should absent myself from hence, till the Breve were come; because the Devil had a great plot provided, against the time, when the Provincial should be there, but yet that I must be afraid of nothing, for that, in fine, he should assist me, in the business. Upon this, I was much comforted; and encouraged; and I related the whole Story; to the rector, who told me, that I must, by no means, forbear to go; but others said, that I must not do it, by any means; and that it was but an invention of the Devil, to the end, that some mischief might happen to me; and that my best way would be, to reply upon the Provincial. But I obeyed the rector; and considering also, what had passed in Prayer, I began my journey, without fear; but yet, not without extreme confusion, to consider, under what title, and occasion, they called for me. And finding how much they were deceived, it made me even importune our Blessed Lord, so much the more, not to forsake me. Now it comforted me extremely, that there was in that place, whither I was going, a College of the Society of jesus, and that I might be subject to that, wherein they should direct me, when I was there; for, by this means, I conceived, that I was to be in a kind of safety.  
But when I arrived there, our Blessed Lord was pleased, that the Lady should receive so much comfort, that her amendment was quickly seen; for she was, every day, better and better. And this was the more esteemed, because (as I said before) the pain, wherein she was, did hold her in great difficulties, and straits. And it is likely, that our Lord granted her ease, at the instance of the many prayers, which certain holy persons, whom I knew, did make in my behalf, that so, all might succeed happily to me. She had also, even in herself, a great fear of Almighty God, and was so full of virtue, and goodness, that her much Christianity, and piety, supplied for that, which was wanting in me. Now, she grew into a great love of me; and I remained, not a whitt in her debt, when I saw her goodness. But yet, in effect, even all, was trouble to me there; for, the Regalo's, which they gave me, were no less, than so many torments to me; and their making so much account of me, as they showed, did put me into a great deal of fear. I therefore carried my Soul so restrained, and so retired within myself, that I durst not be, any way, careless in that kind; and so also was not our Lord unmindful of me. For, he did me, whilst I was there, most excessive Favours; and they endued me, with so true, and so great liberty of Spirit, as to make me undervalue, & despise all those testimonies of estimation, & honour, which I found there; & the more, the more; and so, as that I failed not, to treat with those Ladies, who were so great, with as much liberty, as if I had been equal to them; whereas yet they were of such quality, that I might, without any dishonour at all to myself, have been even their domestic Servant. I drew a great advantage, and benefit from thence; and so I told her. I found that she was subject to some weaknesses, and passions, as myself am; and how little she was, in reason, to esteem her greatness, and power; which still, the more it is, so much the more trouble, and care, it draws after it. And they are fain to take such thought, for living in such a form, and method, as is fit, forsooth, for their greatness, and rank, that, upon the matter, it scarce gives them leave to live. For, they eat out of time, and out of order; because all, forsooth, must go in conformity, to the state, which they hold, and not with any regard, to their constitution, and health; nay sometimes, they must feed upon such meats, as are more agreeable to their greatness, then to their gust; and so, as that, for my part, I wholly abhorred, so much as even to desire to be a great Lady. God deliver me from such ill-favoured gravity, and greatness, as this; for, though the Lady, of whom I speak, be one of the greatest of this Kingdom (and I believe, there are few, more humble, and more affable, than she) yet really, I had, and have compassion of her, to see, how she passes, many times, not in conformity, even so much as with her own inclination, but to comply with her condition; for even, in point of Servants, there is very little trust to be reposed; and though she had them good, yet must she not speak more confidently, and kindly, to one of them, then to another; and if she do, whosoever is most favoured by her, must be sure to be less beloved by others. In fine, this greatness, is a great subjection; and indeed, one of the greatest Lies, which ever the world can tell, is, when it calls such persons as these, Lords, and Ladies; for, as for me, they all seem to be no other thing, then even Slaves; and that, a thousand times over.  
Our Lord was pleased at that time, whilst I remained with that Lady, in her House, that the domestics also there, improved much in the service of his Divine Majesty, though yet, for my part, I was not free from some troubles, yea and certain envies also, which were expressed, to my disadvantage, by certain persons, in regard of the great affection, which that Lady bore me; and perhaps, they were so ill advised, as to imagine, that I had some thought of interest, by what I did. But our Lord was pleased to permit, that they should give me some few little troubles, both in this kind, and also in others, lest else, I might perhaps, have grown to be intoxicated, by the Regalo, which was vouchsafed to me, on the other side; but he was pleased, to fetch me out of all those accidents, and adventures, with the advantage, and improvement of mine own Soul.  
Whilst yet I remained there, a certain Religious man, and a very eminent person, with whom I had treated sometimes, (though it were main years before) did chance to arrive in that place. And I being, one day, at Mass, in a Monastery of his Order, which was near to the place where I kept, was taken with a kind of inclination, to know, in what condition, or state, that Soul was; for I desired, that he might be a very great Servant of Almighty God. I rose then from sitting where I was, that so I might be going towards him; but yet, having been already recollected in Prayer, it seemed to me then, afterwards, that it would be no better, then lost time; and what, forsooth, had I to do with him? and so, I then disposed myself, to sit down again; and (as I now remember) I did the very same thing, no less, than three several times. In fine, the good Angel was stronger, than the ill; and I went, and required him to be called; and so he came. I than began to ask him divers questions, as he did me, (because many years had slipped away, since we met last) concerning the several Lives of one another. And I began to tell him, that as for mine, it had been subject to many afflictions of Mind. Upon this he pressed much, to know, what those afflictions might be; and I told him, that it was neither greatly pertinent to be known, nor very fit for me, to relate. But he replied, that, since the Father of S. Dominicks Order knew them, that Father (whom I had affirmed, to be so much his friend) would presently let him know them; and therefore, that I needed not trouble myself to relate them. But, in fine, the Case grew to be this, that neither was it in his power, to forbear to importune me; nor in mine, to forbear to declare myself heerin, to him. For, with all that trouble, and shame, which I used to have, whensoever there was discourse of things, like this, yet, when I treated of them with this man, and with the rector also of the Society, of whom I spoke before, it put me to no trouble at all, but rather, it was of comfort to me. I therefore unfolded myself to him, but yet under the Seal of Confession; and me thought, he was more advised, then ever; though I always held him, to be a man of very great understanding. I considered the many talents, and parts he had, wherewith to do a huge deal of good, if he would give himself entirely, to Almighty God. And it is true, that I have had this quality, for divers of these latter years, that I cannot see any Creature, who contents me much, 
* This Saint was an excellent person, to make a friend of.  but I must instantly desire, to have him wholly given to Almighty God; and I wish it, even with such an extremity of appetite, that I know not, almost in those cases, what to do with myself. And though it be very true, that I would fain have all the world do him Service, yet I desire, with very great impulse, and even impetuosity, that the persons, who please me best, should do it most; and so I often use, to importune our Lord extremely, in their behalf. But, as for that Religious man, of whom I was speaking, he besought me, that I would recommend him earnestly to Almighty God; but that was more, than needed; for already, I was so gone with the man, that I could not possibly do otherwise. And so I went to the place, where I was accustomed to put myself in Prayer, all alone, and being then, in deep recollection, I began to deal with our Blessed Lord; and it was in a stile, so very familiar, that it was even half foolish; for I treat with him, many times, without knowing almost, distinctly, what I say. For then, it is not so properly my person, as my Love, which speaks; and the Soul is so alienated even from herself, that I scarce discern the difference, which then there is, between Almighty God, and me. For, the great love, which my Soul knows, that his Divine Majesty bears her, makes her forget, what she is in herself, as conceauing, that she is then, in him. And so, as if both she, and he, were one, and the selfsame thing, without division, or distinction, she utters but impertinencies, and roaving. I remember, that I told him thus much, (after I had begged of him, with abundance of tears, that the Soul of that Religious man, might apply itself, to his Service, in great earnest) That, although I held him already, for good, yet that would not serve my turn; for, I must have him very good; and accordingly, I said further, thus, in plain terms: O Lord thou must not deny me this favour; but consider, that this man will be very fit, to make afreind for us both.  
O great Humanity, and Bounty of Almighty God nor doth he so much consider our words, but the desires, and affections, wherewith they are spoken! But now, how can he come to endure, that such a miserable Creature, as I, should speak to his Divine Majesty, with so much boldness? But, let him be Blessed, for ever.  
The while, I remember well, that in those hours of Prayer, wherein I exercised myself that night, our Lord gave me a great affliction, by my doubting, whether I were in his favour. But now, I desired not so much, to know that, as I did even desire to die, rather than to continue in such a life, as wherein I might not be sure, whether I were dead, or no. For, it were not possible for me, to endure a sharper death, then to think, that I had offended Almighty God. And this pain, put me into such straits, that, being all regaled, as I was, and even melted, and dissolved in tears, I humbly besought his Divine Majesty, that he would not permit it. And so I came then to understand, that I might well be comforted, and confide, that I was in state of Grace; for that such love of Almighty God, and the imparting of such Favours, and feelings, as his Divine Majesty vouchsafed to me, were not compatible with any such Soul, as should be in Mortal Sinne.  
But, in the mean time, I grew into a kind of assured hope, that our Lord would grant the thing, to that other person, which I humbly begged at his hands. He commanded me also, to deliver certain words to him. But at this, indeed, I was troubled much, as not knowing, how I should be able to utter them. For, the point of carrying a message to a third person, in such sort as I was saying, is a thing, which doth always afflict me; especially, when I know not, how it will be taken; or, whether the person will not laugh at me, for my labour. This put me to a great deal of trouble; but yet, in fine, I think, I was so far persuaded, as to promise Almighty God, that I would not forbear to impart them; and through the great confusion, and shame, wherein I was, I 
* A very strange demonstration of a most civil, noble, and friendly hart.  wrote them, and so delivered them to him. And now, this well appeared, to be an action of Almighty God, by the great effect it wrought. For, he resolved to give himself to Prayer, after very a serious manner; though yet, he did it not so very soon. But yet, our Lord designing to make him wholly his own, was pleased to declare certain truths to him, by my means; which, howsoever I understood them not myself, did yet fall out so fitly for him, that he was even amazed. And our Lord disposed him to believe, that they came from his Divine Majesty; and I, on the other side, (though I be that poor miserable Creature, which I am) did humbly, and earnestly beseech our Lord, that he would perfectly, and entirely, convert that man to himself, and make him abhor all the contentments, and Creatures of this life. And so (for which let him be Blessed for ever) he hath been pleased to do it, and that in so very perfect a manner, that, whensoever this Servant of his, is speaking to me, it makes me, in effect, turn half fool; and if I had not seen it, with my very eyes, I should hold it for a doubtful thing, how Favours could possibly be heaped-up, so very high, upon a Creature, in so short a time; and should hold him, so busily, and continually employed, upon Almighty God, that already he seems not to live, for the use of any thing of this world. I humbly beseech his Divine Majesty, to keep him in his protection, still; for certainly, if he proceed after this rate, (as I hope in our Lord, he will,) his Spirit being so deeply rooted in the knowledge of himself, he will grow to be, of the most eminent Servants he hath; and will be able to do good to many Souls. For he hath gotten great experience, concerning things of Spirit, in a very short time; and these are gifts, which Almighty God imparts, when, and how, he will, without any precise respect, either to the time, which hath been spent, or else, to the quality of the Service. I say not yet, but that this may also import much; but that our Lord forbears sometimes, to give that, to a person, in twenty years of Contemplation, which yet he forbears not to bestow upon some other, in one. Our Lord knows the reason of this. And it is also a deceitful error, which abuses us, when it seems, we may understand, and obtain that, by account of years, which can, by no means, be had, without experience of the very things, as they are. And so, many err, as I have said, in thinking that they are fit to judge of Spirits, without having any themselves. I say not, but that a learned man, though he have no great knowledge of Spirit, may govern another man, who hath Spirit. But this is to be understood, both in the exterior, and in the interior way, so far, as it may carry a conformity, with the Natural Powers, by the work of his Understanding; and as for those things, which are Supernatural, he must be careful, that all go on, with consent to Holy Scripture. And for the rest, let him not vex himself; nor conceive, that he understands that, whereof, indeed, he knows nothing; nor stifle, and choke those Spirits, which, forasmuch as concerns these things, are governed by another, and a higher Lord; for, in fine, they are not, without a Superior of their own.  
Be not amazed at this; nor let these things seem impossible to you; for, all is very possible to our Lord; but procure you, to reinforce your Faith, and to humble yourself, when you see, that our Blessed Lord knows, how to make a poor, old, ignorant woman, become a more knowing Creature, perhaps, in this Science, than he, who may be otherwise, a very learned man. For, by means of this Humility, one shall be able to do more good, both to the Souls of others, and his own, then if he grow to be Contemplative, without that Virtue. And I say, and say again, that if he be not a man of experience, or if, at least, he have not very abundantly of Humility, wherewith to understand, that he understands not the business, (and that yet, it is not impossible, but that the thing, in question, may be true;) he shall both gain little himself, and enable him also less, to gain, with whom he deals. But, on the other side, if he have Humility, he may be well out of fear, that our Lord will ever permit, that either the one, or the other, shall be deceived.  
But now, concerning this Father, of whom I speak, as our Lord hath given him experience, in many things: so hath he also endeavoured, to acquire all that, which may be gotten by study, in this kind. And whensoever his own experience falls short, he informs himself by their means, who have more. And here, our Lord comes to assist him, by giving him a great proportion of Faith; and by this means, he hath done very much good, both to his own Soul, and those also of others; and mine, is one of them. For, our B. Lord, considering the many afflictions, which I was to endure, it seems would provide, that since some of them would be brought upon me by such as were to govern my Soul, there yet, might be others found, who would help me, to go through with those troubles, and assist me much.  
But as for this Religious man, of whom I have spoken so much, our Lord hath so entirely changed him, that, upon the matter, he is no longer to be known, for the man he was. He hath now also, given him much corporal strength, whereby he is now enabled to do Penance, which was impossible for him, before; for, he was ever sickly. And he is also full of courage, towards the performing of any thing, which is good; and besides, he hath variety of other excellent things, which make it well appear, that his Vocation came most particularly, from our Lord; And let him be Blessed, for ever.  
For my part, I believe, that all this good is come to him, by the Favours, which our Lord hath done him in Prayer; for they are not painted things, or put loosely on; but our Lord hath been pleased, to have him brought to the Touch; and he hath proved therein, as one, who understands very well, the true value of that merit, which is gotten by the well suffering of persecutions. And I trust in the greatness of our Lord, that much good will accrue to some of his Order, by his means; yea and even to the whole Order itself. Already this begins to be understood; and myself have seen great Visions; and our Lord hath told me some particulars, both of him, and of the rector of the College of the Society of JESUS, of whom I spoke; and they are things of great admiration; as also of two other Religious men, of S. Dominicks Order; but especially of one; for whose proceeding, and profit, in the way of Spirit, our Lord hath already manifested some things to the world, by real proof. I had also heard formerly of him; but they are many instances, which concern the person, of whom I spoke before; and one of them, I will here recount.  
I was once with him, in a Locutorie, or Speaking-place of a Monastery; and so very great, was the love of Almighty God, which my Soul, and Spirit understood, to be even burning, in his, that I was even, as it were, absorbed by it. For I went considering the greatnesses of Almighty God, and in how short a time he had sublimed a Soul, to so admirable a State. He put me to much confusion, when I heard him give ear, with so great humility, to those things, which I would sometimes be saying to him concerning Prayer; I, who had so little to say thereof, to such a person, as he was. But our Lord was content to endure it, through the earnest desire I had, to see him a great Proficient, in that kind. And it did me so much good, to be with him, that still he seemed to inflame my Soul, with new fire, and with new desires, to serve our Lord, even as if I had been but then to begin.  
O my dear JESUS! what things are they, which a Soul can do, when it is all, inflamed with thy love? and we ought to esteem such an one, very much, and humbly beseech our Lord, to let it continue long, in this world. For, whosoever owns the same kind of love, should follow such a kind of Soul, as fast as he can. It is matter of much comfort to a sick man, to find another, who is touched, and tainted, by the same disease; for it serves him, in the way of some consolation, to see, at least, that he is not alone. They help one another excellently well, both to suffer, and to merit; They join back, to back, and so support, and succour one another, like valiant, and resolved persons, to venture a thousand lives, for the love of Almighty God; and, They aspire to no other happiness, then to meet with some such occasion, as wherein they may offer themselves in Sacrifice, for his Service. They are like gallant Soldiers; who, to the end, that they may gain the Spoil of their Enemies, and so grow rich, by that means, desire, that there may still be Wars; as understanding, that there is no way, for them, to thrive, but by that means; for it is no less, than their very occupation, to labour, and to suffer.  
O what a great thing it is, when out Lord gives light to know, how much is gained, by suffering for him? This point is not understood, well, and home, till all be given over, and left. For, whosoever keeps any thing to himself, gives a sign, that he esteems it to be worth somewhat. And if he esteem it worth somewhat, it will be necessary for him, to be sorry to leave it. But now here, all is imperfect, yea and even lost; and here comes the Proverb well in, that He is a kind of lost man, who looks after that, which is lost. And what greater loss, and perdition; what greater blindness; what greater misery, and misfortune can there be, then to put a great value upon that, which is absolutely worth nothing at all?  
But (to return, to what I was saying) when I was extremely joyed, by considering the Soul of that man, (wherein it seems, that our Blessed Lord was disposed, that I should clearly see those treasures, which he had depositated therein) and discerning also the high favour, which he vouchsafed to do me, in regard, that it had happened by my means, I found myself very unworthy of it; but withal, I held those Favours, which our Lord had been pleased to do him, in a much higher kind of account, then if he had vouchsafed them to myself. And I paid our Lord an abundance of praise, to see, that his Divine Majesty went so fulfilling my desires, and vouchsafed to hear my prayer; which was, that he would vouchsafe, to stirre-up such kinds of persons, to his faithful Service.  
And my Soul being then in such condition, as that it could no longer bear so greatioy, she went directly out of herself, and lost her very self, to be the greater gainer by it. She lost, I say, those cogitations, and considerations, and the hearing of that Divine tongue, in which the holy-ghost seemed to speak; and then I fell into a great Rapt, which made me, at it were, forgo the use of my Senses, though it lasted but a very little while.  
I saw Christ our Lord, with an excessive kind of Majesty, and Glory, expressing much contentment, in that which passed there. And so himself was pleased to tell me; as also, that I might see very clearly, that he loved to be ever present, at such discourses; and how much he esteems himself to be served, in that men take such delight, to speak of him.  
Another time, when I was far off from hence, I saw him liftedup by Angels, with much glory; and I understood by this Vision, that his Soul was advancing apace.  
But so it was, that a certain person in the world, to whom he had done much good, and repaired some breaches in his reputation, and given also comfort to his Soul, did yet raise a great false testimony against the honour of this holy man; and he endured it, with much contentment, as he also did other persecutions; and performed many actions, which were greatly for the Service of Almighty God. Me thinks, it is not fit, to declare more of these things, at this present. If afterward your Reverence shall think otherwise (because yourself knows, what they are already) they may also be set down here, for the glory of Almighty God.  
But now, of all these things, which I have delivered, about the Prophecies concerning this House; and of others, which I shall also relate; as also of several instances, in different kinds; they were all accomplished, and fulfilled, about a matter of some three years, before they were known; some more, and some less; as our Lord had declared them to me. And I ever told them over, to my Ghostly Father, and to this Widow, my friend, to whom I had leave to impart them, as I have said; and I understand, that she told them yet to others; and they all know well, that I lie not. Nor will Almighty God, I hope, permit me to be ever so miserable, as, in any thing, to speak other, than truth; and much less, when it concerns things of such importance.  
But a Brother-in-Law of mine, dying suddenly, and I being much troubled at it (because he had not had time, to Confess before,) it was told me, in my Prayer, that my Sister would also die, after that manner; and therefore, that I should go thither, and procure to dispose her to die well. I told this, to my Ghostly Father; and he not permitting me to go, I heard the selfsame thing again, and again. But when now I told him thus much, he willed me to go; and said, that nothing would be lost, by the bargain: This Sister of mine, was at a house of hers, in the Country; & I, going thither, to visit her, without telling her of the particular cause, I gave her the best light I could, concerning all things; and I persuaded her to go often to Confession, and, in all things, to keep the accounts of her Conscience, very right, & straight. As for her, she was a very virtuous woman; and did, as she was desired, for four or five years together, before her end; and then she died, upon a sudden, without being so much as visited, and much less Confessed. But the happiness was, that, according to the custom which she had held, there was little more, than eight days expired, after her last Confession. This made me a very glad woman, when I knew of her death; and she stayed a very short time, in Purgatory. Nor is it yet above eight days, since our Lord appeared to me, after I had received the Blessed Sacrament, and was pleased, to let me see, how he carried my Sister's soul, into glory.  
In all these years, from the time, when the particular, concerning her, was told me, till her very death, I forgot not that, which had been given me to be understood, concerning her; as neither also, did my Companion. For, as soon as she had heard of my Sister's death, she came towards me, with much admiration, to see, how all had been fulfilled, Let our Lord be praised for ever, who vouchsafes to take such care of Souls, to the end, that they may not perish;  
Amen.   

THE FIVE AND THIRTIETH CHAPTER.  
She prosecutes the same Discourse, about the Foundation of this House, of our Glorious Father, S. joseph. She speaks of the degrees, by which our Lord came to appoint, that holy Poverty should be ordained there; and of the cause, why she came from that Lady, with whom she was; and of other things also, which succeeded.  
But now, whilst I was with that Lady, of whom I have spoken, and with whom I had remained, more than half a year, our Lord did so ordain, that a certain holy woman of our Order, fell out to come from a place, which was no less, than threescore and then leagues off, from this; and to arrive here; and to lengthen her way, by some leagues, on purpose, to speak with me. Our Lord had moved her to this, in the selfsame year, when he moved me, to make another Monastery of this Order. And as soon as she had entertained this desire, she sold whatsoever she possessed, and went herself, barefoot, to Rome, to get, and bring-away the Dispatch of this Business. This woman, is a person of much Penance, and Prayer; and our Lord did her many Favours; and our B. Lady appeared to her, and required her, still to do, what she was doing; and she served our Blessed Lord, so incomparably beyond any thing that I could do, that I was in confusion, even to appear in her presence. She showed me the Dispatches, which she brought from Rome; and, in those fifteen days, which she stayed with me, we took order, how we would make these Monasteries; and, till I had spoken with her, it never had come to my knowledge, that our Rule, till it was relaxed, did ever command, that none of the Religious Houses of our Order, should have any propriety, in any goods. Nor had myself had any purpose, to found any Monastery at all, without Revenue; for, my intention was, that we should be free from the care of procuring any such thing, as we might be in necessity, to use.  
But this Blessed Woman, having been instructed by our Lord, was grown to understand that truth, very well, without being able so much, as to read; of which truth, I was ignorant, even after having taken so much pains, to read over the Constitutions of our Order. And as soon, as she acquainted me with her purpose, I liked it well; though yet, I was afraid, that it would not be yielded to; but that they would say perhaps, that these were but impertinencies; and wish, that I would not do any thing, whereby others might be put to suffer, through my fault. Though yet, in very deed, if I had been alone, I would not have been detained one minute, from doing it; since it would be a Regalo, to my Soul, to observe, & follow the Counsels of jesus-christ our Lord; for really, his Divine Majesty had already given me great desires, to observe Poverty. So that, for my part, I made no doubt, but that this was best; yea and I had long desired, that it might be possible, and compatible with my state, that I might go begging my bread, for the love of God, without having so much, as a house, or any thing else. But only, I was in fear, that if our Blessed Lord should not give the selfsame desires to others, which he gave to me, they would live, perhaps, with disgust; and consequently, that it might prove a cause of some distraction, or division. For I saw, that there were some poor Monasteries, which lived not with much recollection; and I considered not, that their not being recollected, was the cause of their being so poor; and not their Poverty, the cause of their want of Recollection. For, distraction makes them not more rich; nor is ever Almighty God wanting to such, as serve him. In fine, my Faith was weak; which that, of this Servant of God, was not.  
But now I, (who would be taking the opinion of so many persons, for every thing, which I was to do) could find no body of this mind; no nor even my Ghostly Father himself; nor yet those other learned men, whom I consulted in the case; but they brought me so many reasons against it, that I knew not, which way to turn myself. For I, for my part, who knew already, that it was the Rule of the order, and knew also, that it was a point of more perfection, could not persuade myself, to have Revenue. And though sometimes, they convinced me, towards their opinion, yet still, when I returned to Prayer, and considered Christ our Lord, so very poor, and naked, upon the Cross, I was not able, so much as to find patience, for being rich. But I humbly besought him with tears, to ordain things, in such sort, that I might be poor, like him. And I found so many inconveniences, even in having Revenue, and found it to be so great a cause of disquiet, yea and even of distraction also, that I did nothing but dispute the business, with those learned men. I wrote also about it, to that Religious man, of S. Dominicks Order, who assisted us; and he sent me two sheets of Paper, which he had written, by way of contradiction, to me; and he grounded himself in Theology, for the persuading me, not to do it; yea and he told me, that he had studied the point very well. To which I answered him, that, for not following my Vocation, and for not performing the Vow, which I had made of Poverty, and embracing the Counsels of Christ our Lord, in all perfection, I meant not to make use of his Theology, nor of his Learning; and therefore, that in this case, he might be pleased to excuse me.  
For my part, I was very glad, when I found any Creature, who would help me; and the Lady, with whom I was, assisted me particularly, heerin. There were others also, who told me instantly, at the first, that they liked it well; but afterward, when they considered it better, they found so many inconveniences, in it, that they were earnest, in persuading me, not to proceed therein. But now, I told them heerupon, that if they changed their opinion so soon, I would hold myself fast, to the first.  
At this time, upon my entreaty, and because this Lady had never seen that holy man Fray Pedro de Alcantara, our Lord was pleased, that he should come to her house; and he being so great a lover of Poverty, and having observed, and practised it, so many years, was not ignorant of the riches, which it contained; and so he assisted me much; and commanded me, that I should, by no means, forbear, to carrie-on my desire. And now, through his opinion, and help (he being a person, who could best give counsel in it, as understanding the matter in hand, by long experience) I resolved, that I would go seeking no further. And being, one day, recommending the matter earnestly to Christ our Lord, it pleased him, to tell me expressly, That I should, by no means, forbear, to make the Monastery, poor; That this was both his Father's will, and his; and That he would help me in it. Now, there were so great effects hereof, in a Rapt, which I had, that I could, by no means, doubt, but that it was of Almighty God. Another time, he told me, that there was confusion, in having Revenue; and he said also other things, in praise of Poverty; assuring me, that no such thing, as was necessary for the life of man, should ever be wanting to such as serve him; of which want (as I was saying) I never was in fear, for my part. Our Lord did also turn the hart of the Religious man of S. Dominicks Order, of whom I said, that he wrote, to forbid me to make the Monastery without Revenue. And now I was very well pleased, upon the understanding of this; and upon having also got some other Votes, me thought I possessed all the riches in the world, by resolving to live on Alms, for the love of our Lord.  
About this time, did my Provincial discharge his commandment under Obedience, which he had imposed upon me, for staying there; and left it in mine own choice, either to return, or else to stay, for a certain time. But there was now, an Election of a Prioress, to be made, in our Monastery; and they advertised me, that there were many, who desired to impose that Charge upon me; whereof the only thought, was of so great torment to me, that I could easily have resolved myself, to endure any other Martyrdom in the whole world, for the love of God; but, by no means, persuade myself to this. For, besides the great trouble, in regard, that they are so very many in the House, (which point I never liked) and for other reasons also, which did occur (besides, that I never loved to have Office, but did ever refuse them all it seemed to me, that it was to put my Conscience itself, in great hazard. And so I blessed Almighty God, for my not being present, in the place; & I wrote also, to some friends of mine, that they would not give me their Vote.  
But when now, I was so much pleased, not to find myself there, in that noise, our Lord told me, that I should by no means forbear to go. And that, since I desired a Cross, there was now, a good great one, provided for me; and that I must not throw it away, but go on, with resolution, and courage; and that he would help me; and therefore that I must instantly go. At this, I was mightily troubled, and did nothing but weep; for I thought, it had been the Cross of being Superior; and (as I was saying before) I could not persuade myself, that this could possibly be good, for my Soul, in any kind; nor could I find any reason at all, to induce me to it. I related all this Story, to my Ghostly Father; and he commanded me to be gone; for it was evidently, of more perfection, to do so; but only, because the heats were great, I might yet stay where I was, some few days; for fear, lest else, the journey might do me harm; and that, in substance, it would suffice, if I were there, when the Election should be made.  
But, our Blessed Lord having ordered things otherwise, the business of my journey, was instantly to be dispatched, and done. For, the restlessness which I had in myself, was very great, together with my even wanting power, to make my Prayer; and it seemed also to me, withal, that I fell short, in the performance of what our Blessed Lord had expressly commanded me; and the while, I did but pass my time there, in ease, and pleasure; That it might seem, as if I had no mind at all, to labour, and suffer; and That all, was, upon the matter, but talking, whensoever there grew to be question of serving Almighty God. For else, I being able to be, where it was more perfection for me to find myself, why did I forbear to effect it? And if I should die, by the way; in God's name, let me die. But, in the mean time, (besides all the rest) I found myself, with a great pressing upon my very hart; and our Lord, had wholly deprived me, of all kind of gust, in my Prayer. In a word, I was brought to such a condition, as that now, I was in a great deal of torment; and I humbly prayed the Lady, where I was, that she would allow me her leave, to be gone. For already my Ghostly Father, when he found me to be in that case, willed me also, to begin my journey; and our Lord had also moved him, as well as me. But the Ladic had so great a sense of trouble, for my departure, that the same, grew also to be another torment to me. For, she spoke, of how much trouble it had cost her, to obtain this favour of leave, at the hands of the Provincial, by means of a great deal of importunity. And really, I held it for a kind of very strange thing, that she would be content, to give way, heerin; considering, how very much, she was troubled at it; save only that I considered her, as a very great Servant of Almighty God. And so, I telling her once, that my going, imported his Service much, with many other things, of that kind; and letting her also know, that it was possible, that I might return to see her again, she grew (with trouble enough) to be yet content, at last, that I should go.  
But now I, for mine own part, had no difficulty at all, in doing it. For, when once I came to understand, that the thing was of more perfection; and that it more imported the Service of Almighty God, that I should go, then stay, I did (by the contentment, which it gave me, to content him) pass easily over, the pain of leaving that Lady, whom I saw so much troubled, at my journey; as many other persons also were, to whom I was obliged there, very much; and especially to my Ghostly Father, who was of the Society of JESUS; for, I found myself very happy, in him. But yet, when I saw, that I was to want that comfort, for the love of our Lord, it gave me contentment, to lose him. And yet still, I could not well understand, how this might be. For I saw plainly, that these contraries, were in me, at once: To be delighted, To be comforted, and To be joyed, by that, which yet, did cost me sorrow, at the very hart. For, on the one side, I was eased, and accommodated, with means, and time, to have many hours of Prayer; and on the other, I saw plainly, that I was to cast myself, into a kind of fire. For already, our Lord had foretold me, as much; and that I went to undergo, and carry a heavy Cross; though yet, indeed, I never conceived, that it could possibly have proved so very heavy, as I found it to be, afterward. But yet, howsoever, I went so cheerfully on, that I accounted myself even to be destroyed, in regard, that I could not cast myself, instantly, into the battle, since our Lord had a mind, that I should undertake it; and so, his Divine Majesty gave me strength; and fetched it, even out of my very weakness. I knew not well, (I say,) how this could be; but yet I grew to think upon this Comparison. If, I possessing some rich jewel, or any thing else, which gave me great contentment, it should happen to me, to know, that some person, whom I loved, even better than myself, desired to have it, and that I aspired more, to content him, then to please myself, it would fall out, in that case, that I should enjoy more contentment, without that very thing, than I enjoyed before, by the possession thereof, since it proved to give contentment to that person. And therefore now, since the contentment, which I have in contenting him, exceeds mine own proper contentment, the trouble, which I might have, by wanting the jewel, or even any other thing, which I could love, were taken away; and so also, would the sense of that contentment be, which it gave me before. So that, howsoever I should have been in pain, to leave such persons, as were so greatly troubled for my parting from them (the rather, in regard, that I am, even in condition, and nature, so very grateful, for the Favours, which are done me, and therefore this accident, if it had arrived, at some other time, would have afflicted me much), yet now, the case was such, that I could not be troubled at it, even though I would. It fell out also, in very deed, to import so very much, that I should not have stayed there, one day longer, for as much, as concerns the business of this Blessed House, that I know not, how it could possibly have been concluded, if I had not gone away, just at that time.  
O greatness of Almighty God for I am even amazed, when I consider it. But now, I discern very well, that his Divine Majesty, had a particular care, to help me; to the end, that we might settle, and secure, this poor little Corner 
* Our Blessed Lord, is still as good as his word.  of God. For really, I hold it to be such; and that it is a Habitation, wherein his Divine Majesty is delighted; as he told me himself once, when I was in Prayer, That this House was even the very Paradise, of his delight. And so, very agreably to this, he hath brought certain Souls hither, in whose company now I live, with very great 
* The great Charity, & Humility of the Saint.  confusion to myself. For it would not have been in my power, to have so much as wished for such, as they are, in order to this holy end; they being persons of so great Austerity, and Poverty, and Prayer; and carrying all this weight, with such a deal of contentment, and gust, that there is not one Creature, in all the Company, who doth not hold herself, for wholly undeserving, to have approached to such a place, as this; and especially some, in particular, whom our Lord was pleased, to call, from out of the gallantry, and vanity of the world; where (according to the laws of this life) they might have had contentment enough. But now, our Blessed Lord hath given them the same contentment, so far enlarged, and increased, as makes it to be most clearly seen, That even here, they have a hundred, for one, in comparison of what they left, for his sake. And now they can never satisfy themselves, with giving him most humble thanks, for so high a Favour. He hath also changed others, from good, to better. To such, as are very young, he gives both courage, and knowledge; to the end, that they may desire nothing else; and that they may truly understand, that, to be severed from all things of this life, is even here, a very enjoying, of more repose. To them, who are of more years, and less health, he gives such a degree of strength, as that they may be able to endure the same austerities of Penance, which the rest of the Community undergoes.  
O my dear Lord! and how well doth it now appear, that thou art powerful? Nor is there any need, to seek out reasons, and ways, for thy doing, whatsoever thou desirest. For even, above the Discourse of our Natural Reason, thou makest all things very possible; and givest us to understand very well, that, in fine, we have need of no more, then to love thee, in good earnest; and to leave all things, in good earnest, for thee. But indeed, it must be done, in good earnest; to the end, that thou, O my Lord, and my God, mayst make all things easy to us. And here, it may come handsomely in, that thou dost, but as it were, feign, or counterfeit, the infusion of a kind of difficulty, upon the observing of thy Law. For, as for me, I cannot find, O my Lord, where indeed, that difficulty is; nor how that way can be accounted strict, or hard, which conducts us to thee. But I rather plainly see, that it is a fair, and Royal way; and no obscure, and paltry little path; but a way wherein every body goes safe, who will put himself, in good earnest, upon the journey. For, all doubtful passages, and rocks, wherein one may be in danger to catch a Fall, are found to be very far off, from hence; in regard, that here we are so very remote, from all occasions of Sinne. But I call that other, a path, and a wicked path; and a narrow, and very dangerous way; which, on the one side, hath a huge deep valley, into which one may fall; and on the other, a hideous rock, with a precipice, from whence, upon a very instant, ere he be aware, he may break his neck, and his bones, into a thousand pieces.  
He, who loves thee, O thou, my eternal Good, with reality of truth, goes securely, by a Royal, safe, and large way; which lies far from all such precipices of danger. And no sooner hath such an one, tripped never so little, but instantly, thou, O Lord, lendest him thy hand, to help him up. Nor will, even a Fall, nor many Falls, be his ruin, if he love thee, and not the things of this world. Such an one, walks by the Valley of Humility; nor am I able to understand, why any Creature should be afraid, to put himself into this way of Perfection. And I beseech our Blessed Lord, (even by what he is) that he will give us rightly to understand, how ill, that security is, which we look for, in the midst of such manifest dangers, as where, one is to be still, trudging on, in the rank, and row of the world; and that we may believe, our true security, and safety, to consist, in our procuring, to be still going on, in the way of doing Service, to Almighty God. Away, away; let us all fix our eyes upon him; and let us not have any fear, that this Sun of justice, will set, or ever permit us, to walk in such sort, by night, as that we may grow to be lost, unless we first resolve to leave him. Nor let us fear to walk, even in the midst of Lions, of whom, every one seems greedy, to be carryingaway his several piece; and these are certain things, which the world is wont to call, by the name of Honours, and great Estates, and Delights. And the Devil, on the other side, seems also willing here, to fright us, with certain frivolous toys. A 
* How devout, this dear Saint is.  thousand times over, I am amazed; and ten thousand times, would I desire, even to dissolve myself, with pouring forth my tears; & to cry-out to the whole world, all at once, to proclaim mine own great wickedness, and blindness; so to try, if that, might do any good, towards the making men, at last, open their eyes. Let him open them, through his own infinite goodness, who knows how to do it; and not permit, that ever mine, may turn blind again,  
Amen.   

THE SIX AND THIRTIETH CHAPTER.  
She prosecutes the Subject, which she had begun; and declares the final conclusion of the Foundation of this Monastery of the Glorious S. joseph, of Auila; and of the great contradictions, and persecutions, which the Religious women were put to suffer, even after they had taken the Habit; and of the many troubles, and temptations, which she was fain to undergo; and how his Divine Majesty drawn her out of all, with victory, to his own praise, and glory.  
BEing parted from that City, where I was, I passed with much contentment, by the way, resolving to undertake, and go through, with all things, which our Lord should be pleased to lay upon me; and that, with a most frank, and entire submission, of my whole hart. Now, the selfsame night, when I arrived at Auila, our Dispatch, with the Breve from Rome, arrived also there. So that, I was amazed at it; and so also were all they, who knew of the haste, wherewith our Lord had solicited me, to come away; when they also knew withal, the great necessity, which there was thereof, and the coniuncture also otherwise, which appeared then. For, I found the Bishop there, and that holy man, Fray Pedro de Alcantara, and a certain Cavalier also, a very great Servant of our Lord, in whose house, that holy man Fray Pedro, was lodged. For, that Cavalier, was a person, with whom, generally, the Servants of Almighty God, were ever wont, to find a safe retreat. Now, both those persons, joining together, obtained so much, at the Bishop's hands, as that he was content to admit of the Monastery; which was not a thing of small importance, considering that it must live upon Alms. But the Bishop was really a friend to such, as were indeed resolved to serve our Lord; for instantly, he would apply himself to do them favour. But the approbation of that holy old man, and his dealing earnestly, with several persons, to assist us, was the thing, which made an end of the work.  
If I had not chanced to arrive in this very coniuncture, as I have said, I know not, how the business could possibly have been dispatched; for, this holy man stayed a very little while, here; and I think, not above eight days; and even then, he was very ill, at ease; and shortly after that time, our Lord took him out of the world, to himself. And it seemed indeed, that his Divine Majesty had preserved him, in this world, till just this business might be dispatched; for it had been long, (that is, I think, a matter of two years,) since he had been very ill, in point of health.  
But all that, which they resolved now, was to be governed with a great deal of secrecy; for else, nothing would have taken effect; so ill was the people conceited of it, as appeared afterward. Now, our Lord disposed things so, that a Brother-in-Law of mine, should be sick, at that very time; and that his wife should not be here; but that he must be in so very great need of help, that they gave me leave to go, and be with him; and so, by occasion of that, there was nothing known; howsoever somewhat grew to be suspected, concerning some persons, though yet it were not fully believed. And it is a thing, to make men wonder, how my Brother-in-Law, continued no longer sick, then seemed to be just necessary, for our business; and should recover his health, just as soon as it was fit; to the end, that so, both I, might be disengaged, and he might leave his house free. But our Lord, as I was saying did instantly restore his health; at which, the Patient was in wonder. Yet even then, had I difficulty enough to procure, by means of many different persons, to make them give way, that the business might go forward; and; both with the sick man, and with the workmen, that the House might be finished, out of hand; and be put into the Form of a Monastery. For, there was very much of it unfinished, at that time; and my Companion was then, not here; for we held it indeed more convenient, that she should be absent, for the better hiding of the business; and I saw, that it was of extreme importance, that all should be dispatched, with diligence, for many reasons; and for this, amongst the rest, because it was feared every hour, that they would send me away.  
In the mean time, I had so many occasions of vexation, and trouble, that I might have cause to doubt, whether this were not that Cross, whereof I was warned; though on the other side, it seemed, that this was but a little one, in comparison of that other great Cross, which our Lord had formerly said, that I was to bear.  
But yet, all being now concluded, our Lord was pleased, that some should take the Habit, upon S. Bartholomews' day; at which time, the B. Sacrament was exposed, with all the Solemnity, and devotion, which we could possibly use. And so, the Monastery of our most Glorious Father S. joseph, fell out to be erected, and made, in the Year of our Lord God, One thousand, five hundred, seventy two. And it came then, to my turn, (together with two others of our former Monastery, who, by accident, were abroad, at that time) to give them the Habit. But now, since the House where the Monastery fell out to be made, was that, wherein my Brother-in-Law, had dwelled before, (for he, as I said, had bought it, the better to disguise this business) I had leave to stay there. And I did nothing at all, but by the opinion of learned men; that so I might be sure, not to depart, one hairs breadth, from my Obedience. And when they saw, that the thing was to be so advantageous to the whole Order, in many respects, they told me, I might do as I did; though yet, it were fit to proceed with great reservation, and secrecy; and to take care, that my Superiors might not know, what I was doing. For, how little soever the imperfection had been, which I must have committed therein, I conceive, that I would have given-over the erecting, I say not, of one Monastery, but of a thousand, rather than have fall'n into it; and this, is certain. And though I desired, to sever myself, wholly, from the world, that so I might follow my Profession, and Calling, with more perfection, and Clausure, I desired it yet, in such sort, as that, whensoever I should come to understand, that it was to be, for the greater Service of Almighty God, to give it over, I would instantly have been sure, to do it, with entire peace, and repose.  
But the while, it was a kind of being even in glory, for me, to see the B. Sacrament exposed; and that, four poor 
* They were very noble, though they were poor.  Orphans were provided for, since they were taken without Dowry; and they were very great Servants of Almighty God. For, this was much endeavoured, at the beginning, that such persons should enter, and be received, as might lay a good foundation, by their example, for the better effecting the intention, and design, which we had, to carry all things on, with much perfection, and Prayer; and that such a work, in fine, might be finished, as were to prove, for the Service of our Blessed Lord, and in honour of the Habit of his Glorious Mother; for upon this, did all the anxieties of my care, work, and beat. And it gave me also great comfort, to have done expressly that, which our Blessed Lord had been pleased to command me; and that there might be one Church more, (and the same be dedicated, under the name of my Glorious Father, S. joseph) then there was before. Not yet, that I conceived myself, to have done any thing in it, at all; for, I never had any such conceit; neither have I yet; but I ever understand, that it is our Blessed Lord, who did it; and that, as much as concerned my part, was accompanied with so great imperfections, that I rather plainly see, that there is much more, for which to blame me, then to thank me. But yet I must confess, that it goes with me for a great Regalo, to see, that his Divine Majesty was pleased to use me, as an instrument (I being so very wicked, as I am) for so great a work, as this. So that, in fine, I remained with much satisfaction, and gust, in this behalf; and, as it were, even out of myself, in great depth of Prayer.  
But now, upon the end of all this, which might last about some three, or four hours, the Devil procured to give me such a kind of Spiritual battle, as I will now declare. He 
* The Devil is still, himself.  represented to me a doubt, whether that, which I had done, had been well done; whether I had not gone against my obligation of Obedience, by procuring to effect certain things, without having been directed therein, by my Provincial; That I might very well imagine, that my carriage had been of disgust to him, in regard, that I had submitted the business, to the Ordinary, and that, without having acquainted him with it, before; though yet, on the other side, it be true, that when he would not admit of the Foundation, and saw, that I did not alter my course, I might probably enough imagine, that he would not care much, though it went on; and Whether these new Religious, would be content to live in so great restraint; Whether, they were not to want bread, to eat; Whether the whole business, were not an absurd, and foolish thing; and Who, in fine, must put me upon it, since already I had a Monastery of mine own.  
But now, all that, which our Blessed Lord had commanded me; and all those opinions of the learned men, whom I had consulted; and all the Prayer, which I had caused to be made, and that, in effect, without ceasing; yea and also for the space of more, than two whole years; all this, I say, was as absolutely slipped out of my memory, as if it had never been there; and I only remembered now, that I did it according to mine own opinion. But all the virtues, and Faith, which I had before, were suspended in me then, without my having strength, either to act any thing, or even so much, as to defend myself, against so many assaults.  
The Devil was also tampering with me, and examined me, how it came to pass, that I would needs go shut myself up, in so strait a House; and that, with so many infirmities upon my back; and how I would be able to undergo so great Penance, and give over to live, in so goodly, and delightful a place, as the other was, where I had always had so much gust, and so many friends; and perhaps, these others, would not prove so; That I had taken very much upon me; That, perhaps, it would cost me despair, at the last; That the Devil had pretended, but to deprive me of repose, and peace, that so I might not be able to frequent Prayer; and to make me grow disordered, and disturbed; and so, by those degrees, to lose my Soul.  
Such things as these, assembled in such sort as I have related, did the Devil take care, to set before me; and so, as that it was not almost in my power, so much as once to think, of any thing else; and by this means, did he bring such an affliction, and obscurity, or rather downright darkness upon my hart, as I am not able to express. But now, when I found myself to be in this case, I went to visit the Blessed Sacrament; though yet I was not able to recommend my Soul, to it; as finding myself, in my opinion, with a certain kind of profound affliction, as if then, I had been, in no less, than the very agony of death. To treat with any body, about it, I was not yet to presume; for there was not yet so much, as a Ghostly Father appointed for me. O my dear Lord! what a miserable kind of life is this, which we lead, where there is no secure contentment, nor any thing, which is not subject to change? It 
* This is such a kind of world, as wherein, things will ever go thus.  was so very very lately, that, me thought, I would not have exchanged my condition (in the way of being content) with any Creature of the whole world; and now, the selfsame cause, even of the selfsame contentment, did so torment me, that I knew not what to do with myself. O that we would look, with attention, upon the things of this world! for, every body would then be quickly able to find, by experience, how little he were to lodge, either his contentment, or discontentment, upon it. It is most certain, in my opinion, that this was one of the feircest kind of fits of affliction, that ever I had endured, in my whole life. And it seems, as if my very Spirit, had half prophesied, how, much did still rest behind, to be endured; though yet, that arrived not so far, as this, if it had continued.  
But now, our Blessed Lord did not permit this poor Servant of his, to suffer long; nor did he ever fail, to succour me, in my tribulations; nor did he also, in this. For now he gave me a little 
* A true answer to all the Devil's Objections.  light, wherewith to see, that all this, was of the Devil; and that I might discern the truth; and that the whole business, was but to put me into a fright, by lies; and so, I came, by degrees, to call to mind, and to recover the great resolutions, which I had formerly conceived, towards the Service of our Blessed Lord; as also my desires, to suffer for him. And so I grew also to consider, that if, really, I intended to fulfil them, I was not to busy myself, about procuring rest, and ease; but if I would endure afflictions, that this was the true way, to merit; and that, if I would goe-through with them, for the Service of Almighty God, they would be in stead of Purgatory, for me; & of what was I afraid? & that, since I desired afflictions, these, which were offered now, would be very fit, & good; and that, where the greatest contradiction was felt, the richest gain would be found; and why should my hart fail me, for his Service, to whom I owed so much? And by these, and other considerations, and employing all the courage I had, I made a promise, in presence of the B. Sacrament, to do all the very uttermost, that I could, to get leave to come to this Monastery; as also, if I might do it, with safe conscience, to promise Clausure.  
But now, at my resolving upon this, the Devil fled instantly away, and left me very quiet, and contented; and so I have remained ever since. And all that, which is observed in this House, either by way of Enclosure, or Penance, in any kind, hath made itself both very delightful, and seems very little. And the contentment, on the other side, is so extremely great, that I am thinking, several times, if I were able to find any thing, in the whole world, which could be of so much gust to me, as this. I knew not also, whether, perhaps, even this, might not be the true reason, why I enjoy better health now, then ever; or else that, perhaps, our Lord would have it so, because perhaps, there might be some necessary use thereof; and because it is but reason, that I should also do thosethings, which are performed by all the rest; and therefore, that he is pleased, to give me so much comfort, as to be able to do it, though yet, it be with some little trouble. But certainly all they, who see it, and are privy to the great infirmities, to which I am subject, be amazed at it. Blessed be our Lord, who gives it all; and hath power enough, wherewith to do it.  
But I failed not, in the mean time, to be very well wearied, with such a stiff contention, and strife, as this, though yet, I laughed at the Devil; for I clearly saw, it was he. And I conceive, that our Blessed Lord would permit it, because I never knew, till then, what it was, to be in any disgust, for being a Religious woman; Nor did I ever find any, during the space of eight and twenty years, and more, that I had been one. But now, his Divine Majesty permitted it to come upon me, to the end, that I might the better understand the great Favour, which it had pleased our Lord, to do me in that State; yea and the torment, from which he had freed me; as also, to the end, that, if afterward I saw any one, who should be afflicted in the same kind, I might not be frighted at it, but might both have compassion of her, and know also, how to give her comfort, if there should be cause.  
But now having passed this brunt, and being desirous to rest a little, when I should have dined, (for, in all the night before, I had taken none; as also in many other nights, I had not failed of care, and trouble enough, when yet I was also tired out, in the days; as they knew, very well, what passed, not only in the Monastery, but in the City, there was grown, to be a great deal of noise, and disquiet, upon the occasions, which have been formerly touched, yea and there seemed, to be some colour, for the same) just then, the Prioress required me, to be called; and that I must go to her, at the instant. And meeting with her commandment, I left my Religious, full of pain, and care, and so, instantly, went to her. But I than perceived well, that I was to be sure of troubles enough; though yet the House, being then dispatched, I was not in very much pain. Howsoever, I betook myself to Prayer, beseeching our Blessed Lord, to be good to me; and begging of my Father S. joseph, that he would bring me back again, to his House; and, in the mean time, I offered-up all that, which I might chance to endure, for his sake; and I was to be very well pleased, if it fell out, that I might suffer any thing for him, or be able to serve him. And so I went away, with opinion, that they would instantly commit me to Prison. Whereby I yet conceive, that they would so, have done me, a great deal of pleasure; for then, I should not have been vexed with their talking; and I should have enjoyed a little Solitude, whereof I was in very great want; for they had even, as it were, grinded me to dust, by forcing me, to converse so long, with such a multitude of people.  
But being then arrived, and having given account of myself, to the Superior, she was a little appeased; and they all agreed, to send me to the Provincial; and so the Cause was to depend, before him. And as soon, as I was come thither, for judgement, I found myself with much contentment, to see, that I was suffering somewhat, for the love of our Lord. For, as for having done any thing, either against his Divine Majesty, or yet against the Order, I conceived not, that I had offended, but rather had endeavoured to augment it, to the uttermost of my power; and would be glad, with my whole hart, to die for it. For, all my desires were, that it might be fulfilled, according to the uttermost perfection. But in the mean time, I called to mind the Sentence, which was passed upon Christ our Lord; and I acknowledged, what a Nothing this was, in respect of his. I accused myself then, as in fault, yea and as very faulty; and so I make no doubt, but I was, in the opinions of all them, who knew not very much, of the Cause. And after they had given me a great reprehension, (though not yet, with so much rigour, as the fault might seem to deserve; and as many of them told the Provincial, that I had committed) I was absolutely, for my part, resolved, to hold on this course. And so I rather desired, that they should pardon me; and then punish me, if they would; but by no means, remain unkind, or illaffected, towards me.  
In some things, I plainly saw, that they had no reason at all, against me; but that they condemned me, without cause; as when they said, I had done, whatsoever I had done, to the end, that I might be held in great opinion, and to be talked of; and such other toys, as that. But in others, I saw clearly, that they said true; as namely, that I was much worse, than the rest; and that, since I had not kept the Observances of that House, which were maintained, with so much piety, and devotion there, how could I come to think of performing another Rule, of more rigour? and, that this, was but to raiseup novelties in the world, and to scandalise the people.  
But yet, all this, caused no tumult in my hart, nor put me to any pain at all; though yet I showed to be in some; lest otherwise, they might conceive, that I undervalved what they said. But, in fine, the Provincial commanded me, to give account of myself, to them of the former Monastery, and that I must necessarily do it. And so, being at great peace within myself; and our Lord assisting me therein; I gave such a discharge of my actions, as that neither the Provincial, nor the Religious Women, who were in that Assembly, found any thing, for which to condemn me. After this, I spoke more plainly to him, in private; and I did it also more at large; and he was very well satisfied with me; and promised me, that, if the City should proceed towards a being quiet again, he would give me leave to go to my Monastery. But the disorder, and distemper of the City, was so very great, as I shall now declare.  
Within two or three days, after that time, the Governor, and other Magistrates of the Town, and some also of the Chapter of the Cathedral Church, met together; and they all declared jointly, That, by no means, they must permit the work, to go forward; That it would result, to the euident disadvantage of the Commonwealth; That they must not fail, to remove the B. Sacrament, from thence; and, by no means, permit the business, to proceed. One only Doctor of S. Dominicks Order, although he were of a contrary opinion to us (I mean not, in that point of the Monastery, but in that other, of being incapable of Revenue, and Poor) said, that there was no cause, why the House should instantly be dissolved, after that manner, but that it ought to be well considered; That there would be time enough, for this; That it was a Case, which belonged to the Bishop; and divers other things, of this kind, which did very much good to the business. For, considering how great the fury of the people was, it was happy, that they did not put the dissolving of the House, presently, in execution. And this showed, that the thing, in fine, was to take effect; and that our Blessed Lord, was pleased, to have it so; and that they all could do little, against his will, and pleasure; but yet, they all assigned their reasons, and expressed good zeal, in what they said. And yet thus, without their giving offence to Almighty God, they made both me, and divers others suffer, who favoured the Business.  
The tumultuous disposition of the people, was so great, that now there was no talk of any thing else; and they all agreed, in condemning me; and in going to complain of me, to the Provincial, and to my Monastery. As for me, I was no more troubled, at what they said, then if they had not said it; but the only fear I had, was, whether, or no, they would dissolve the House; for, this put me to a great deal of pain; and so also did it, to see, that the persons, who assisted me, lost credit, and were otherwise also put to much inconvenience by it. But as for that, which they said of me, I was rather glad of it, than otherwise. And if I had had any Faith, it would have made no alteration in me at all; but when there is a want in some one virtue, all the rest are wont to be cast into a kind of slumber. And so I was much troubled, during those two days, wherein the two Assemblies, whereof I spoke, were made amongst the people. And I being very much afflicted, our Lord said these words to me: Dost thou not know, that I am powerful? Of what art thou afraid? And thus did he assure me, that the House should not be dissolved; whereby I remained full of comfort.  
But then, did they dispatch their Agents, or solicitors, to the Council Royal, with their Informations; and so, there came order from thencė, to send a Relation thither, of the whole proceeding. So that heat, we might behold the beginning of a great Suit in Law; for already, some were gone to the Court, on the part of the City; & others were instantly to go, on the part of the Monastery; and, on the other side, neither had we any money, nor did I know, what to do; but our Lord provided all things, for us. And as for me, my Father Provincial did never forbid me to deal in it; for he is so true a friend to all Virtue, that, although he did not assist in the work, yet he would not be against it; though yet withal, it be very true, that he would never give me leave, to pass to this new Monastery, till he might see, what kind of end the Business would have. In the mean time, the Servants of God, were all alone, and did more, with their prayers, than all that, which I was able to do, by way of negotiation; though yet still, it were necessary, to use diligence enough. Sometimes it would seem, that all was wanting; and especially one day, before the Provincial came hither, when the Prioress commanded me, not to treat any more, about that business, but to give it utterly over. But than went I to Almighty God, and said: O my Lord; This House is not mine, but it was made for thee; and now, there is no Creature, to negotiate the business for us; and therefore, thy Divine Majesty must be pleased to do it. Heerupon, I found myself really, and instantly, at so great ease, and so without any manner of trouble, as if I had had the whole world, on my side, to employ itself for me; and so I held all the business, to be in safety. Upon this, a certain Priest, a very great Servant of Almighty God, who had assisted me always, and was a great friend, and favourer of all Perfection, went to the Court, to follow the business; and laboured in it very much; and so also, that holy Cavalier, of whom I made mention before, did very much therein, and showed it favour, in all kinds. He endured also great troubles, and persecutions for it, otherwise; and I found him ever, like a Father, to it; and so I do also, to this day. And our Lord did still inspire them, who were our friends, with such a deal of fervour, that every one of them, took our business to hart, as much as if it had been properly, his own; and as if his whole honour, and life, had been concerned in it; though yet, they had indeed, no other interest, then only, in regard, that they thought, it did import the Service of Almighty God.  
But now, it seems clearly, that his Divine Majesty, assisted the good, and virtuous Priest, who was also a Doctor; and he indeed, was one of them, who helped us most; for, the Bishop employed him about it, in his name, in a certain great Giunta, or public Meeting, which was framed about it; and therein, he stood alone, for us, against them all; and, in fine, he found means to appease them. For, he made a kind of overture, by a certain way, which was sufficient, to entertain, and suspend their proceeding; & indeed there was not any one, who could otherwise have sufficed, to keep them from resolving instantly, to employ even their very lives, for the overthrowing of the Business. This Servant of God, of whom I speak, was also the man, who gave the Habit to the Religious, and setup the B. Sacrament there; and he was subject to persecution enough, for his labour.  
This battery continued about half a year; and, to relate in particular manner, the great troubles, which passed in all that time, would be along business. For my part, I wondered extremely, at what a coil the Devil kept against a few poor Women; and how every body could understand, that, forsooth, twelve Religious, and a Prioress (for, they were no more) could be thought, to be of such mischief, to a whole City. I mean, such mischief to them, who opposed it; but as for the Religious, they were, indeed, of so austere life, that, if any hurt, or error, were to grow by that design, it must be only to them. And as for being of prejudice to the place, it carried not so much, as any appearance; and yet they could meet with enough, who would find means (and that, forsooth, with good conscience) to cross it. But yet now at length, they came so far, as to affirm, that (provided always, that they would get Revenue, and live upon it) they were content to give way, and that the Business might go on.  
For my part, I was then so weary, to see all them, who assisted us, in so great trouble (which I regarded much more, than mine own) that I grew to be of opinion, that it would not be very ill done, to accept their Licence, under the condition of having Revenue, till the times might grow quieter by degrees; and that so, we might get to be without it, afterward. At other times, I, being very imperfect, and wicked, began to think, that perhaps our Lord would not mislike, that it should be so, since we could not obtain our end, otherwise; and therefore, I was already grown, to consent to this Accord. But being in Prayer, the night before the final conclusion thereof, when the Accord was even already begun, our Lord commanded me, that I should consent to no such thing, as they intended; and that, if we began to take Revenue, they would never give us leave to forgo it; and divers other things, he also told me. The self same night, that holy Creature, Fray Pedro de Alcantara, appeared to me; for than he was dead. And before also he died, he wrote to me; and taking notice of the great opposition, & persecution, which was raised against us, he said, he was heartily glad, that this Foundation was made with so great contradiction, and how that, served him for a sign, that our Lord would grow to be greatly served in this Monastery, since the Devil took such pains, to hinder it. But yet, he persuaded us still, that we should, by no means, accept of living upon Revenue; yea and he pressed this point, in two or three several parts of the same Letter; and told me, that if we persisted therein, we should grow to effect the Business, according to our own desire. I had already seen him, at two other several times, after his death; and I beheld the much glory, wherein he was; and he gave me no apprehension of fear at all, but rather joyed me much; for he never appeared to me, but in the quality of a Glorified Body; yea and full of excessive glory; and so accordingly, he gave me great joy to see him; save, that he partly showed himself, with a kind of severity, or rigour, when he told me, that, in no case, I should accept of Revenue; and why would I not follow his counsel? And so he instantly vanished; and I remained amazed. I went therefore, the next day, to that Cavalier (he being the person, to whom we still carried all the business, as to one, who assisted us most, therein) and I told him, what had passed; and that he should, by no means, agree, to take any Revenue, but rather, to let the Suit go on. Now, he was even much more earnestly of the same mind, than I was myself; and was very glad, to find me of his; and afterward told me also, how unwillingly he ever spoke, about making any agreement, or composition.  
But a certain other person, began again, ere long, to declare himself against us; and truly, she was a good Servant of Almighty God; but yet she wished (though she might have good intentions therein) that since the business was in so good state, they might do well, to put it into the hands of Lawyers. Upon this, I had a great deal of disquiet; for, some of them, who assisted megrew also to be of that opinion; though yet, indeed, it were a very trick of the Devil; and perhaps, it was a morsel of the hardest desgestion, of all the rest. But our Lord assisted me in all; for, that, is the sum of the business; and it is no easy thing, to give all that, to be well understood, which passed, between the beginning, and finishing, of this Monastery; although this last half year, and the other, which was the first, were the most troublesome parts of the whole time.  
Yet now, the City being grown, in some sort, to be appeased, that Father of S. Dominicks Order, who was a Graduate in Theology, laid so handsomely about him (though he were not present then) that he assisted us much. Our Lord brought him also afterward, in a certain coniuncture of time, when he did us a great deal of good; and it seemed, that his Divine Majesty had induced him to that journey, for that only purpose. For, himself told me afterwards; that he had no occasion at all, to come, but only, by having heard of this business; and that he grew to know of it, merely, by chance. He stayed here, as long as was necessary; and when he was returning home, he procured, by certain means, which he used, that our Father Provincial should give leave, both that I, and some others also, might come to stay, at our new Monastery; which yet seemed a kind of impossible thing, for him to grant, so soon; yea and that I might also do the office of teaching, and instructing such, as were there already. But the day, when I got thither, was of extreme comfort to my hart. For, being in Prayer in the Church, before I entered into the Monastery, and being in a kind of Rapt, I saw Christ our Lord appear; and, me thought, he received me with great love, and put a Crown upon my head; & gave me thanks for the Service, which I had done to his Mother. At another time also, we being all, in the Choir, and in Prayer, after Compline, I saw our B. Lady, in excessive glory, with a white Mantle, upon, and about her; and she seemed to shelter, and protect us all, under that Mantle; and I understood, how high a degree of glory, our Blessed Lord would vouchsafe to the Religious of that House.  
When we came once to celebrate the Office of the Church, the devotion, which the people began to carry towards us, was very great; and already, there grew to come more Religious to us; and our Lord began also, to incline even them, to do us most favour, and, most bountifully, to impart all things to us, who had persecuted us most. And they came to approve that, which they had misliked before; and so, by little and little, they let their Suit fall. And they said, that now they were come to understand, that it was the work of Almighty God, since his Divine Majesty had been pleased, that it should proceed, and prosper, in despite of so great contradiction. Yea now, there is not a Creature, who conceives, that it had been well done, to desist from the Work; and accordingly, they take much care, to provide us with Alms, even without our desiring any thing, at any time, of any body. So that, it seems, our Blessed Lord stirs them up, to send it to us, of themselves; and so we pass without the want of any thing, in the world, which is necessary; and I hope in our Blessed Lord, that it shall, for ever, be so. For, being so few, as we are, if withal we shall do our duty, (as now his Divine Majesty gives us grace to do,) I make myself very sure, that we shall want nothing; and so, have no occasion, to be troublesome, or importunate, towards any Creature; but that, as I was saying, our Lord will take care of us hereafter, as he hath been pleased to do, hitherto. And 
* Note the description which the Saint makes here of her Religious.  for me, it is an excessive comfort, to see myself settled here, with such Servants of Almighty God, as are so totally untied, from all the persons, and things of this world. Their conversation, and discourse, is only, how they may be able, to proceed best, and fastest, in the Service of his Divine Majesty. Solitude is the greatest Solace, they can enjoy; and to think that they shall see any Creature, but only such, as may assist them, towards the enkindling; and inflaming their hearts, to the love of their Spouse, is the greatest trouble they have; yea though it should be, from the nearest kindred they know. And so, there comes no body hither, but such as love to treat of that business; for, neither would he content them; nor they, him. And their language being only to speak of our Blessed Lord, as it is, they neither understand, nor be understood, unless the same language be spoken.  
We keep, and observe the Rule of our B. Lady of Carmel; and this, entirely, as it ought to be, without any manner of relaxation; but just as it was ordained, by Albertus, Patriarch of jerusalem; and confirmed, by Pope Innocentius the Fourth, in the Fifth year of his Pontificate; and in the year of our Lord God, 1248.  
So as now, me thinks, all the troubles, and vexations, which have been endured, about this Business, will fall out to have been very well employed. And though the Rule be of some rigour (for, they never eat Flesh, without necessity; and they 
* This Fast of the Order, is not so strict, and rigorous, as that of the Church; but is rather a forbearance of half the Meal, than a Fast.  Fast, eight months, in the year; and observe such other things also, as may be seen in the Original Rule) yet most of the particulars, seem to be of little difficulty, to the Religious; & they observe also other things, which have seemed necessary to us, for the more exact performance of the said Rule. And I hope in our Blessed Lord, that this, which is begun, will proceed, and prosper, according to what his Divine Majesty hath told me.  
The other House, which the Beata, of whom I spoke before, procured to erect, is now already made, in Alcalà; and there wanted not also oppositions, and great afflictions, and troubles, to them, who laboured in it. I know, that all Religious Observance, is performed there, according to the first Institution of this our Rule; and I beseech our Blessed Lord, that all may turn to his honour, and praise; and of the Glorious Virgin Marie, whose Habit we wear; Amen.  
I well believe, that your Reverence will have been wearied, with the long Relation, which I I have made you, of this Monastery; which yet, in some respect, will fallout to have been but very short; considering the many afflictions, which were endured; and the great wonders, which our Blessed Lord wrought therein; whereof there are many witnesses, who can aver them, by Oath. And now I beseech your Reverence, for the love of our Lord, that, howsoever you may tear what you will, of all the rest that I have written, your Reverence will keep safe, what I send you here, concerning this Monastery; and that, when I shall be dead, you will deliver it over, to the Religious here. For, it will greatly serve to animate such, as shall succeed in the Service of Almighty God; and to make them procure, not to let that fall to the ground, which is begun; and so, to be still passing further, and further, on, when they shall see, how carefully his Divine Majesty blessed it, in the erection thereof, by means of so wicked, and base a Creature, as myself.  
And since our Blessed Lord hath showed, in so particular a manner, that he was resolved to favour, both the beginning, and finishing of this Monastery, it seems to me, that they shall do very ill, and that they will be severely punished, by Almighty God, who shall endeavour, at all, to slacken the perfection of this Rule. For here, our Blessed Lord hath already begun, so to assist, and strengthen us, as that this kind of Cross, is carried with extraordinary suavity, and is very well discerned, to be tolerable enough; and that, great preparation is also used, and provision made, for every one of them, who shall desire to enjoy their Spouse jesus-christ, our Lord, hand to hand, by living cheerfully, and everlastingly, in the said Rule. For, this is that very thing, which they are always to resolve. They alone, with him alone; and they are to be no more, than thirteen; for I see, by the opinion of many, that this is fit; and I have found it also to be true, by experience, That to preserve that Spirit, which they have, and to live of Alms, 
* This Point of having so very few, in a Monastery, was partly meant, for them who were to live in any place, on Alms; and partly because the Saint had seen some disorders by having too many Religious in other Houses; and yet the Saint herself came afterwards, to admit of twenty, in stead of five; and would perhaps have admitted more, if she had found reason for it.  without ask any thing of any Creature, there will not be means for more. And ever, let them be believed best, who, with many troubles of their own, and by means of the many prayers of others, procured, that that might be done, which was best. And so also, by the consideration of the great contentment, and joy, and the very little care, and trouble, which we see every body to have in this House; as also by the much better health, which now they have, then formerly they were wont to enjoy, it may be held, and hoped, that this course will fallout to be most convenienr. And, whosoever shall still conceive, that the way of life here, is too severe, and sharp, let him rather apply the fault, to his own want of Spirit, than cast it upon that Discipline, which is observed here; since persons, who are of delicate constitution, and have no health, of which to brag, do yet so easily observe this Rule, because they have Spirit. And let those others go, in God's name, to some other Monastery, where they also may be saved, according to the Spirit, which they shall have.   

THE SEVEN AND THEIR TIETH CHAPTER.  
She treats of the Effects, which used to remain in her Soul, when our Lord had done her any Favour; and she accompanies this Discourse, with very profitable Doctrine. She declares also, how we are to procure, and greatly esteem the gaining of one degree of glory more; and how we must not, for any trouble, or pains, forsake those benefits, and blessings, which are everlasting.  
I Am loath to recount any more of those Favours, which our Lord hath done me, than such, as I have related already; yea and even they, are more, I doubt, then need to be thought, to have been showed, to so miserable a Creature, as myself; but yet, to obey our Lord, who hath commanded it, and your Reverence also, who expect it, I will declare some things here, to his glory. And I humbly beseech his Divine Majesty, that it may serve for the profit of some Soul, to see, that our Blessed Lord would vouchsafe, so highly to favour so wretched a thing, as I am; for then, what will he not do for such others, as shall procure to serve his Divine Majesty, in good earnest? And every body will so be encouraged hereby, to give our Lord contentment, and gust; since, even in this mortal life of ours, he vouchsafes to impart to us, such assurances, and even pawns of his love.  
But first, it is here to be understood, that in all these Favours, which Almighty God is pleased to do to a Soul, there is ever; more glory, or less; as he himself is pleased to impart it more, or less. For, the glory, and gust, and comfort, which he imparts, is so much more, in some Visions, then in other, as that I was even amazed, to find so great difference of enjoying, even in this life. For it happens, that there is so great an excellency, belonging to some one Regalo, or gust, which our Lord imparts, in some one Vision, or in some one Rapt, that it seems an impossible thing, to be able so much as to desire any thing, beyond it, in this life; nor doth the Soul, indeed, desire more; nor would even wish, for more joy, and gust; though yet, since our Blessed Lord hath been pleased, to give me to understand, how great the difference is, in Heaven, between the glory, which is enjoyed by some, & that, which is enjoyed by others, I am come to see very clearly, that even here also, there are no set limits in giving, when our Lord pleases. And so could I also wish, that there were no limits set, in my doing Service to his Divine Majesty, but that I would employ my whole strength, and health, and life, upon it; that so, I might not lose the least imaginable proportion, of my enjoying any Celestial blessing, through any fault of mine. And heerin I declare myself, thus far, That, if this choice should be offered me, Whether I would be subject to all afflictions of the world, even till the end of the same world, and then ascend, by that means, to the enjoying of never so little more glory; or else, without any affliction at all, to enjoy a little less glory; I would most willingly accept of all those troubles, and afflictions, for a little more enjoying; that so I might also understand more, of the greatness of Almighty God; because I see, that he, who understands more of him, doth both praise him, and love him, so much the more. I say not, but that I should be fully contented, and should esteem myself, very happy, to be in Heaven, though it were but in the most inferior place thereof; for our Blessed Lord would show an abundance of mercy thereby, to such an one, as had been designed to Hellfire, as I was; and I humbly pray his Divine Majesty, that he will not cast his eye upon my great Sins, but that, in fine, I may go to Heaven. But that, which I say, is this, That, if our Lord would give me grace, to labour much for him, and if I were able, to do it, I would not, upon any terms (how much pain soever, it might cost me) forgo the gain of any thing, in the way of Celestial glory, by my fault, (miserable Creature, that I am) who had once lost it all, through mine own great Sins.  
But here it is also to be noted, that, in every Favour, or Vision, or Revelation, which our Lord allowed me, my Soul did still remain, with some great advantage, or gain; and sometimes, with a gain, which was very extraordinarily great, by means of some of my Visions. For, by my seeing Christ our Lord, his admirable, and excessive beauty, remained imprinted in me; and I have it, even to this day; for, in such a case, as this, one only time serves the turn; and therefore, how much more, when it happens so very often, as our Lord hath vouchsafed to impart it to me. In particular, I remained with one, which was extremely considerable; and it was this. I was subject to a very great fault, by which, much hurt came upon me, whensoever I began to observe, that any one had a good inclination to me. For if I liked him well, I grew to carry so much affection to him, as that my memory, would bind me, after a sort, to be still thinking of him, though yet, it were not, at all, with any intention to offend Almighty God; and I would also be very glad to see him, and to think of him, and to consider the good parts, which I found in him; and this, was so prejudicial a thing, that it did my Soul a great deal of hurt. But when once, I was come to behold the great Beauty of our Blessed Lord, I saw no Creature after that, which might seem passable, in comparison of him; nor, who was able to takeup my thought, for one minute. For, by casting the eye of my consideration, upon that Image, or Picture of him, which is engraven in my Soul, I have remained with so much Liberty of Mind, in this respect, that, every thing, which I have seen, since that time, makes me ready, almost, to cast the gorge, in comparison of the excellencies, and air, and grace, which I discerned to abound in this Lord of mine. Nor is there any knowledge, or comfort, which I can, at all, esteem, in comparison of that, which grows by the hearing of one single word, which proceeds out of that Divine mouth of his; and much more, when I have heard so many, and so often, from him. Nay, I hold it to be a kind of impossible thing (unless our Lord should permit it, in respect of my Sins) that ever I can lose the memory of this blessing; or that any Creature can ever so possess me, as that I shall not instantly be free, by recovering the remembrance of this Lord.  
It happened to me sometimes, with some Ghostly Fathers of mine, (for I always love them much, who govern my Soul, in regard, that I take them truly, as in the place of Almighty God himself; and me thinks, it is ever there, where I employ my affection, most) that esteeming myself to be in security with them, I would be apt to show them extraordinary civilityes; whereas they, on the other side, (as being great Servants of Almighty God) would be, not only careful, but fearful, lest I should fasten, or tie myself, too much, to them, though it should be, in a most innocent manner; and they would show themselves, even to be displeased at it. Now, this grew in me, after I had made myself subject, to be be directed, and even commanded, by them; for before, I did not bear them so much love. But the while, I confess, I would be laughing sometimes, within myself, to consider, how extremely they were deceived; though yet, I would not always be telling them, so clearly, how little I used to tie myself to any Creature, as I was sure of it, in myself. But yet, I gave them certainty enough of it; and when once they were grown to be more inward, and more confident with me, they came to know, how particularly I was obliged to our Blessed Lord, in that kind. But these suspicions, which they had of me, were never wont to occur, but in the beginnings.  
Besides, there grew to be, both more love, and more confidence, between this Lord of mine, and me, after I had seen him; as one, with whom I was come, to have a kind of continual conversation. I saw, that though he were God, he was also Man; and that he did not wonder, at our weakness; for, he well knows our miserable condition, and composition, which is subject to take Falls of so many kinds, by that first Sin of Adam, which he, was come to repair, Nay I see, that, although he be my Lord, I may yet treat with him, as with a Friend; because he is not such a kind of Lord, as we are wont to meet with, in this world, who pin all the Lordlynesses, which they have, upon a certain kind of changeable; and removable demonstrations; and who must give, but particular, and set days, for Audience; and so, the persons, whom they will hear, must be appointed, and named. And if perhaps any poor Creature have a business, there must be use of labour, and favour, and a walking in Byways, before it can be ever negotiated, or concluded. And if perhaps they have any thing to do with the King himself, alas poor folks; for they, who touch not upon the Cavalier, or great man, must not so much as presume to approach, but be content to ask, who the Favourites are. And now, they will certainly, not fall out to be such, as use to tread the world under their feet; because such persons as these, are wont to speak real truths; for, they neither fear any thing; nor owe any thing; nor, in fine, are any part of the Palace. For there, these things are not used; but to dissemble, whatsoever they dislike; nay, they scarce dare so much as think, for fear, lest they should grow by it, into less favour.  
O King of Glory, and Lord of all the Kings of this world! how true is it, that thy Kingdom is not guarded by Sticks, and straws, since, in itself, it hath no end? How true is it, that there is no need of third persons, to introduce us, to Audience with thee? For, by our very seeing thyself, we instantly see withal, that thou, only, dost indeed deserve, to be called Lord; So great is the Majesty, which thou showest. Nor is there here any need at all, of Assembles, and Guards, in Court, whereby thou mayst be known to be King. Whereas, if any Earthly King were left alone, he would hardly be known to be King; and how much soever himself might desire it, yet the people would have difficulty to believe it. For, in himself, he is no more, than others are; and therefore, we must either see him so adorned, and attended, first, or else, we shall hardly belieive afterward, that he is the King. And he hath therefore, so much more reason, to serve himself of these external advantages, and helps; for else, they would not hold him in account; because his seeming to be so powerful, depends not upon the inward, and innate dignity of his Person; but his State is derived to him, from others. But, O, thou, my Lord, and my King, that I were able now, to represent that Majesty, which thou hast? For, it is impossible to forbear to see, that thou art the great Emperor of the whole world, in thyself; and that thy Majesty doth even astonish the beholders. But yet, it puts me to more amazement, O my Lord, to see, in company thereof, the great humility, and love, which thou bearest to such a wretched Creature, as myself. For, we may ever speak, and treat with thee, about all things, even as we will ourselves, when once we shall have lost that first amazement, and fear, to see the Majesty of thy Presence; though yet then, we shall have more fear to offend thee, then to see thee; yea and yet, even that, not so much for being, O Lord, afraid of thy punishment, (for, we do not esteem that, at all) as in respect of the misery, which it is, to lose thy very self.  
Behold here, the benefits of this Vision; besides many other great ones, which it leaves in the Soul. And if it be of Almighty God, it makes itself be understood, by the effects, whensoever the Soul hath Light; for, many times, as I have said, our Lord is pleased, that it should remain in darkness, and not see this Light; and therefore, it is not so strange a business, which so wicked a Creature as myself, may come to see.  
On the other side, it is but even now, that it hath happened to me, to be eight days, in such a case, as that I seemed, neither to have knowledge of what I owe to Almighty God, not yet, any memory of his Favours; but only, that my Soul was even half besotted, and estranged, and employed upon I know not what, nor how. Not yet, upon any ill thoughts; but I was so very untoward, in respect of good ones, that I did even, as it were, laugh at myself; and took a kind of gust, to see the great baseness of a Soul, whensoever our Lord vouchsafes not to be working, in it. But she yet understands very well, that she is not without possessing him, even in this State; for it is not (as I have formerly said) as it uses to be, in our great afflictions; but, though we bring wood thither, and do also, all that very little, which we are able to do on our part, there is yet, no such thing, in the world, as the kindling, at that time, of any fire, of the love of our Lord, in our hearts. And it is no small mercy of his, that we can so much as find, that there is any smoke; for, at least, we know thereby, that she is not dead; and our Lord returns to kindle it again, afterward. But then, this Soul of ours (though we break our very heads in blowing, and weary ourselves also otherwise, in ordering, and composing the wood) seems to be in such a condition, as that every thing serves, to choke us, the more. And so, I think, the best of our case to be then, to render ourselves wholly up; and to know, that we are able to do nothing of ourselves; and then to apply our endeavours, to the doing of some external, meritorious things. Yea and perhaps our Blessed Lord is pleased, to take Prayer from us, at that time; to the end, that the Soul may exercise herself in those other actions, and so understand, at length, by good experience, how little she was able to do, of herself.  
But now I have, this very day, regaled my Soul, with our Lord; and presumed to complain to his Divine Majesty, even against himself, to this effect: How comes it to pass, O my God, that it seems not enough for thee, to keep me in this miserable life; and that I resolve, to endure it all, for thy sake; and that I content myself to be, where all is vexation, and trouble; and that I may not so much as enjoy, even thee; but that I must also eat, and sleep, and dispatch business, and treat with every Creature, according to the occasion, and that I suffer all this, for the love of thee? And now, O my Lord, thou knowest, that this is an extreme torment, to my hart; and that yet, in those few little moments of time, which remain to me, for the enjoying thee, thou yet art pleased to hide thyself, after this manner, from me. And how can this be compatible with thy mercy? and how can the love, thou bearest me, permit it? I believe, O my dear Lord, that, if it were a possible thing for me, to hide myself from thee, as thou dost thyself from me, I think, I say, and I believe so much, of the love thou bearest me, as that thou wouldst not endure it at my hands. But thou art still with me; and ever seest in what case I am. Yet permit not longer, O my Lord, that this kind of course be held, but I humbly beseech thee to consider, that it is a kind of wrong, to proceed after this manner, with one who loves thee so much. This, and the like, hath occurred to me, to say; though yet I considered first, how that place, which had been provided for me, in Hell, was appointed me, after a kind of favourable way, in comparison of what I had deserved. But yet sometimes, the love I bear to our Blessed Lord, is so very extravagant, that I scarce can tell, what I do; and then, with all the little understanding I have, I make such complaints, as these; and our Lord endures them all, at my hands; and therefore, let so good a King, as this, be ever praised. But now, might we, perhaps, be able, to approach any King of this world, with such audacities, as these?  
And yet I wonder not much, that we may not presume, to talk, after this manner, to our Earthly Kings, whom we have so much reason to fear; yea or even to such great Lords, as are the superior parts of the State. For, 
* She inveighs with much reason, against vain Compliments, and especially amongst Religious people.  now we find the world so changed, that our very lives should be longer, than now they are; to the end, that we might have time enough, to learn the Puntoes, and new customs, and fashions, of good Manners of the world, if there be any meaning withal, that we should also, have any time to spend, in the Service of Almighty God. For my part, I even bless myself, to see what happens; for, the truth is, that even already, I scarce knew, how to live in the world, when I came to this place. For, now it passes, I can assure you, for no jest, whensoever there is any little omission, to treat men, even with much more Style, and ceremony, than they deserve; but they do really so take it, for an affront, that you must, forsooth, interpret your intention, and profess your desire, to make satisfaction, if there be (as I was saying) any omission; yea and I pray God, that they will vouchsafe to believe you. But, in the mean time, I return to affirm, that really, I did not know how to live; so miserably do these things afflict a poor overlaboured Soul. For she sees, that, on the one side, they command her to employ her whole thought, upon God; and that it is necessary for her, to do so; to the end, that she may be delivered from many dangers; and, on the other side, she also finds, that it concerns her, not to lose a Punto, even in the Puntilios of this world, upon the price, of not chanceing to minister occasion, of giving temptation, and trouble, to them, who place their Honour, in these Puntoes. For, as for me, they tired me, even outright; and I could never be at an end, of making satisfactions; for, it was never in my power (how much soever I endeavoured it) to forbear the making many faults, in this kind; which, as I said, are not held, to be little, in the account of the world. And it is true, that, in Religious Orders, (which, in all reason, should be excused, and discharged, in such kinds, as these) there is really a very true discharge. Not yet that they affirm, that our Monasteries ought to be a kind of Court, for good breeding, and to know, what belongs to good Manners, (for I confess, I understand not this kind of language) but because I have been thinking, that our Saints had anciently affirmed, and taught, that a Monastery should be a kind of Court, to instruct such persons, as had a mind, to make themselves Courtiers, in the Kingdom of Heaven. But now, things are understood in the direct contrary way; because they, who should be continually employed, in pleasing Almighty God, and in procuring to abhor the world, must now, forsooth, be obliged to all attention, and care (in stead of pleasing God) to please such, as live in the world; yea and that, in certain things, which are every day so subject to change, that I know not, how our performances could pass un-reproved; yea though it were possible, that all might be learned, in one Lesson, without any loss at all, of more time.  
Yea, and even for the Titles, which are expected, upon the Superscription of Letters, it were now, it seems, not to be unfit, that there were some Doctours-Chaire erected (as one may say) where they might instruct, and teach, how such, and such Titles, were to be used. For sometimes, men leave the Paper empty, on one side of the page of the Letter, and sometimes on the other. And now he, who was not wont, to be Worshipful, must be called Honourable; and I know not, in fine, where things will rest. For, I am not yet fifty years old, and yet I have seen such changes in my time, that I cannot tell now, how to live. But then, how will they, who are now borne, know, how to carry themselves, if they chance to live long?  
I have really great compassion of Spiritual persons, who are obliged to live in the world, for certain holy ends; for, I hold it to be a kind of terrible Cross, which they are fain to carry, even in this respect. If they could all come to agree in a tale, and profess themselves to be ignorant, and be content to be held for such, in this kind of art, or science, they might free themselves, from a great deal of trouble.  
But now, into what kind of fooleties, have I cast myself? For, by treating of the greatnesses of Almighty God, I am grown, by degrees, to speak of the basenesses of the world. And since our Lord hath done me the Favour, to make me able to leave it, I am resolved to go out of it, now at length. Let them fit themselves to it, as they list, who sustain, and hold-up these toys, with so much trouble to themselves; and I pray God, that we may not pay dearly for them, in the other world, where there is no change to be found,  
Amen.   

THE EIGHT AND THIRTIETH CHAPTER.  
Wherein she treats of some great Favours, which our Lord was pleased to do her, as well, in acquainting her with certain Secrets of Heaven, as by giving her other great Visions, and Revelations. She declares also the effects, which they left in her Soul; and the great benefits, which she obtained by them.  
BEing so very ill at ease, one night, that I thought fit to excuse myself from Prayer, I took a Pair of Beads, or rosary, into my hand, to employ myself Vocally, by that means. And I procured not to recollect my Understanding, in any very serious manner; though yet, forasmuch as concerned my exterior, I was sufficiently recollected, and in my Oratory. But when our Blessed Lord hath a mind to any thing, these diligences of ours, to the contrary, are not wont to serve to any great purpose. For, I remaining a while, after this manner, there came a Rapt of Spirit upon me, with such an excessive impulse, or impetuosity, that there was no power in me, to resist it. It seemed to me, that I was carried up, and placed in Heaven; yea, and the first persons, whom I saw there, were my Father, and my Mother; and I also saw some things besides, so very great, and all, in so very short a space of time, as wherein an Aue Maria might be said, that I was amazed; as conceauing, that it was too very great a Favour for me. In this circumstance, of the times having been so short, I may perhaps be deceived; for it may have been a little longer; but at least, it ran speedily away, and seemed short enough. For my part, I was in some fear of an Illusion; but yet, supposing that it should prove none, I found myself in an extreme deal of shame, with considering, how I could ever be able to declare any such thing, as that, to my Ghostly Father. Not yet, in my opinion, that I was to receive trouble by it, in respect of any such thing, as Humility, in me, but because I thought it likely enough, that he would make some jest at it, and say: Lord, what a kind of S. Paul, or S. Jerome, is this woman grown, that she, forsooth, must see things of Heaven! yea and besides, in regard, that these Glorious Saints, had participated, and been admitted to such things, as these, I grew to be in so much the more fear of myself; and really, I did nothing but weep bitterly, in regard, that, in my opinion, there was no appearance of reason at all, that these things were to pass, after this manner.  
But yet howsoever, in fine I resolved, that I would go to my Ghostly Father, notwithstanding all the aversion, which I had; and that I would acquaint him with all things; for I never durst conceal any thing, from him, through the very great fear, wherein I was, of being abused, and deceived. Yet when he found me to be so greatly afflicted, he did procure to comfort me much; and told me of many good things, to free me from the pain, wherein I was.  
But afterward, that which follows, happened to me; and the same occurrs to me often. For, our Lord went showing me yet, greater Secrets; I say, he went showing them to me; for, that a Soul should ever be able to see any one jot more, then is represented to her by our Lord, is absolutely an impossible thing; and for my part, I never saw more, then merely, what he was pleased to show me, at every several time. But that, was so very much, that the least part thereof, sufficed, to make me remain all amazed, and my Soul to be very much improved, towards the undervalue, and disesteem of whatsoever thing might be in this world.  
I would be extremely glad, if I could tell, how to give some little part of the least of that, which I knew, to be understood; but I find, that it is wholly impossible. For, though this Light, which we see here, and that Light, which is represented there, be, all of it, Light: yet still, there is so great a difference withal, as that there is no manner of comparison. For, the clarity, and brightness, even of the very Sun itself, is a thing of mean, and poor appearance, in respect of this. In fine, the very Imagination of man, how subtle, and refined soever it may be, is yet unable to reach to the describing any thing of this Light; nor yet of any other thing at all, which our Lord was pleased to give me to understand; and that with such a sovereign kind of delight, as cannot possibly be declared. For, all our Senses enjoy such a superior degree of sweetness, that it can no way be fully expressed; and therefore I think it will be best, to say no more.  
I had once been above an hour, in this condition, when our Lord showed me admirable things; and seeming not to depart, from being near me, he spoke these very words to me: See here, my Daughter, what they lose, who are against me; & do not thou forbear, to let them know it. But, O my dear Lord; what good will my saying it, do to them, whom their own actions blind so deeply, if thy Divine Majesty do not give them light? Some there be, to whom thou hast given it; and they have profited much, by knowing those greatnesses of thine; but yet, O my Lord, they see, in such sort, withal, that they are showed to such a wretched, and miserable thing, as myself, that I cannot but esteem it a strange thing, to find, that any Creature should believe me. Blessed be thy name, and thy mercy; for, at least, I have plainly seen an evident amendment, in mine own Soul; and I would be glad, if I might still remain there, and not come back to live here, any more. For, the contempt, wherein I held this whole world, was very great; and it seemed to be no better, than even dung, to me; and now I find, how basely we be employed, who are detained therein.  
Whilst I remained with that Lady, of whom I spoke before, it happened to me once, when I was ill, and even sick at the hart, (for I have formerly been subject to this misery, though nothing so much of late) she considering me with much charity, and compassion, commanded, that one day, certain jewels of hers, should be brought forth, which she had, of very great value; and one, in particular, of Diamonds, which was prized at a very high rate. Now she conceived belike, that this would recreate, and revive me; but I smiled inwardly at her, the while; and had compassion to see, how mean things men esteem, when I considered, what our Lord hath layd-up for us; And I thought, how impossible a thing it would be, for me, to put any manner of value, upon such toys, as those, even though I should endeavour it, unless our Lord should first deprive me of the memory of those other treasures.  
But now, this kind of Favour, gives so great a dominion to the Soul, that I know not, whether it can possibly be understood, but only by such persons, as possess it. For it is the proper, true, and natural discharge, and untying of the Soul, from all things created; and this grows absolutely, without any labour of our own; and Almighty God doth it all; and then, his Divine Majesty shows these Truths; and that so, as to make them remain imprinted, and engraven, in the Soul; and they serve also, to make us see clearly, that it was not possible for us, to acquire them, especially in so short a time, by any diligences of our own.  
Upon this, I also came, to have very little fear of death, which formerly, had been great in me; but now it is grown, to seem to be a thing of very much facility, and ease, for such as apply themselves to the Service of Almighty God. For, by death, the Soul flies out of prison, in one moment; and is not only put presently into liberty, but enjoys an everlasting rest, and glory.  
Now, this way, which is held by Almighty God, in carrying the Spirit up, to show her so excellent things, in these Rapts, seems to bear a very close kind of conformity, with the passage of a Soul, out of a Body, at the hour of death; since it grows, even at one instant, to be so entirely inpossession of this Eternal Good. But here, I lay aside, the consideration of those sorrows, and pains, which are felt, when the Soul is torn out of the Body; for, we are to make little account of that, and they also, who love God, in good earnest, and have shaken hands with all the contentments of this life, are certainly wont to die, with more sweetness.  
It also seems to me, that these Favours did me very much good, towards the bringing me into a knowledge of our true Country; and to see, that we were mere Pilgrims here; and it is a precious kind of thing, to find what passes there above; and to understand, where, in fine, we are to live, for ever. And whensoever one goes to settle, and stay, for good and all, in any Country, it gives a great assistance, towards the enduring all the incommodities of the journey, when we know, that the end of it, is to be such, as that we may, in fine, be in great repose, and happiness, when we get thither. It is also here obtained, that, with case, we may grow able to consider Heavenly things, that so our conversation may be there. And this is a great kind of gain, since the only thinking of Heaven, recollects the Soul; in regard that our Lord being pleased to show us somewhat, which passes there, we are induced to pause, and think upon it. And sometimes it so falls out, that they whom I know to live there, are the Souls, who accompany me, and in whom I receive most comfort; and these indeed are they, who seem to be truly alive; and those others, on the other side, who live here, seem to be so very deadly dead, as that this whole world, put together, cannot amount to be any company at all, for me. And especially, when I find any of these impulses, or impetuosities, in myself, the whole world seems to be, but a very Dream; and all the objects, of these corporeal eyes of mine, a mere jest, and toy; but that, which already I have seen, with the eyes of my Soul, that, I say, is the thing, which she desires; and because she finds herself, to be yet far off from thence, this is that, which is no less, than even death itself, to my Soul.  
In fine, the Favour is excessively great, which our Lord vouchsafes to that Soul, to whom he gives such Visions, as these; for, they help her much, in all things, and particularly, to the carrying of a certain heavy Cross, which lies upon her. For, nothing can satisfy her now; but every thing disgusts, and checks her. And if our Blessed Lord did not give way, that we might forget it sometimes, (though yet we remember it again afterward) I know not how we should be able to live. Let him be Blessed, and praised, for all Eternity; and I humbly beg of his Divine Majesty, even by that very precious Blood, which his own Son shed for me, that, since he hath vouchsafed, that I should understand somewhat of these benefits, and blessings, and that I should begin to enjoy them also, in some kind, even in this life, it may not happen to me, as it did to Lucifer, who lost all, by his own fault. Do not permit this, O my Lord, I humbly pray thee, even by all that, which thou art; for, it is no small fear, which I have sometimes; though yet at other times, yea and usually, the mercy of Almighty God, gives me a very confident hope, that, since he hath been pleased, to draw me out of so many Sins, he will not forsake me so now, as to let me be lost. And this do I humbly pray your Reverence, that you will ever desire, in my behalf. But, in the mean time, me thinks, that those precedent Favours, were not so very great, as this, which I will now apply myself to relate; and that, for many reasons, & many blessings also; and, in particular, for that great courage, & strength, which have still remained in me, upon that account. And therefore, if those former may be considered, every one by itself, this other, which I am going to relate, will be found to be so very great, as that there will be no comparison at all, between them.  
I was one day, and the same fell out to be upon the Vigil of Pentecost, or Whitsuntide, after Mass; and I went to a more remote place, where I often used to pray; and I began to read in a certain Book of this Feast, which had been written by a Carthusian. And meeting there, with those signs, which both Beginners, and Proficients, and Perfect Souls, use to have; and how they may come to understand, whether the holy-ghost do inhabit their hearts, or no; as soon as I had read these three States, it seemed to me, that Almighty God, through his goodness, did not leave, or fail, to be present with me, after a particular manner, for as much as I might be able to understand. And whilst I was praising his Divine Majesty, for that blessing, I remembered, that I had read the same thing formerly, when I wanted very much of that condition of mind; and then I saw, that I wanted it, as plainly, as now I understand the direct contrary, concerning myself. But thus I came to know the great Favour, which our Blessed Lord had done me; and from thence, I grew also to consider the Place, which my Soul had deserved, in Hell, for my Sins; and I gave great praise to Almighty God, in regard that now, me thought, my Soul was so extremely changed, that I could hardly almost conceive it, to be the very selfsame thing, which it had been before.  
Being then, in this consideration, there came a great impulse, or impetuosity upon me, without my being able, to understand the occasion thereof. Me thought my very Soul had a mind, to get instantly, out of my Body; for now she could not possibly contain herself any longer; nor found she herself, at that time, to be able to stay any longer here, in the painful expectation of so great a Good. Now, this was so excessive an impulse, or impetuosity, that I could not possibly tell, even what to do, with myself; nor so much, as what I ailed; so extremely was I grown, to be in disorder. And though I were sitting then, yet was I not able, even to sit; and so I applied myself a little, to lean; for I found, that all my natural forces, began to fail me. But perceauing myself to be in this case, I saw a Dove, upon mine own head; but such a Dove, as was very different from them of this world; for she had not of our kind of feathers; but the wings were, as of certain little shells, which darred a huge splendour from themselves. This Dove was much greater, than any ordinary Dove; and me thought, I heard a noise, which she made with her wings; for, she was fluttering, about the space of an Aut Maria. But my Soul was already, in such condition, that growing to lose herself, she also lost the sight of the Dove. My Spirit did then begin to quiet itself, upon the entertaining of such a Guest, as she had gotten; though yet, for my part, I imagined, that so wondrous an encounter, and accident, as that was, might well have disquieted, and frighted it. But she beginning already to enjoy, laid quickly all fear aside; and, together with the self same joy, grew to have quietness withal, but yet still, remaining in the Rapt. Now, the glory of this Rapt, was extremely great; and I remained, during the most part of the whole Festivitie of Pentecost, so stunned, and even, as it were, besorted, and befooled, that I knew not, what to dot with myself; nor was I able, by any means, to understand, how so high, and great a Favour, as this was, could possibly find a resting place, in me. I neither heard, nor saw, in effect; by reason of the great excess of my interior joy I understood, how, from that day forward, my Soul remained with a very great increase of improvement, by enjoying a more sublime love of Almighty God; and that my virtues also, had gained a great increase of strength. Now, let him be blessed, and praised, for all eternities, Amen.  
I saw also, at another time, the same Dove, upon the head of a certain Father, of S. Dominicks Order; save that, me thought, both the beams, and the brightness of the very wings, did spread, and extend themselves, much further; and it was given me then, to understand, that he was to win Souls to God.  
Another time, I saw our Blessed Lady, putting a white long Garment, upon the back of a certain Graduate, of the same Order; of whom I have spoken formerly, divers times; and she told me, that she had given him that Mantle, for having assisted in the Business of this House; and that his Soul should be defended, and preserved, for the future, in such purity, as that he should not fall into Mortal Sinne. And I assure myself, it proved so; for he died, within few years, after; yea and he did both line, and die, with so great Per nance, and sanctity, that there can be no doubt thereof, for any thing, that we are able to understand. And a certain Religious man, who had been at his death, told me, that S. Thomas of Aquin, had been with him; and that he died, both with great joy, and with desire also, to be delivered from this banishment, wherein he was. Since that time he hath appeared to me, in very much glory; and told me, divers things. He was a man of so great Prayer, that when a little before he died, he would gladly have forborn the exercise thereof, through his great weakness, he was not able to do it; for even then, he had many Rapts. He wrote to me, a little before he died, about what course I thought he were best to take, for help, because ever, as soon as he had done Mass, he used to fall into Rapts, which would last long, without his being able to forbear them. But our Lord gave him, at length, the reward, of the great Service, he had done him, during his whole life.  
Of the rector of the Society of JESUS, whom I mentioned before, I have seen some things, concerning great Favours, which our Lord did him; but I will not insert them here, for fear of being too long. There happened a great trouble to him once; for he was persecuted, and found himself greatly afflicted; and I hearing Mass, one day, saw Christ our Lord, upon the Cross, just then, when the Priest elevated the Sacred Host; and he spoke certain words to me, wherewith I was to acquaint him, for his comfort; and others also he spoke, by way of prevention of some future inconvenience, which might arrive; and he represented also to him, how much himself had suffered for his sake; and that therefore, he should prepare himself to suffer. And this gave him both much comfort, and much courage; and all happened to him, just so, as our Blessed Lord had foretold.  
Of the Religious of a certain Order, yea and of that whole Order together, I have seen great things. For I have seen them sometimes in Heaven, with white Banners in their hands; & I have seen, as I was saying, other things of great admiration. And accordingly, I have this Order, in much veneration; for I have treated, and communicated with them much; and I see, that their life is agreeable to that, which our Blessed Lord hath given me to understand, concerning them.  
I being one night in Prayer, our Lord began to utter some words to me, which brought me to remember, how wicked, my life had been; and they gave me confusion, and pain enough; for although they imported not any rigour, yet they endued me with such a tender kind of feeling, and grief, that the Soul was even dissolved by it. And we use, in such cases, to find more benefit, in the way of knowing out selves, by some one such word as these, than we are able to acquire, in many days, by our own consideration of our misery; for, it brings such a truth to be euen engraven in our Soul, as we cannot possibly deny. He represented to me also, those inclinations of mine, which I had formerly entertained, towards Creatures, with so much vanity; and told me, that I was to put a great value upon the desire, which he had, that I would lodge all my affection, upon him, which formerly I had employed so ill, since he would accept thereof. At other times, he bade me remember, that formerly, I had sometimes esteemed it for a point of honour in me, to go against his Honour; And yet, at other times, that I should remember, how much I owed him; for that I used to commit the greatest offences against him, whilst he used to be doing me Favours. If I have any faults (which are not few) our Lord gives them so, to be understood by me, at those times, that it makes me even, as it were, annihilate myself; and because I have many faults, he uses me so, many times. It happened to me once, that a Ghostile Father reprehended me; and when I thought to comfort myself in Prayer, it was there, that I found indeed, my true reprehension.  
But now, (to return to that, which I was saying) when our Lord began, to bring my wicked life to my remembrance, which cost me a world of tears; and when I also considered, that I had done no good thing lately, which might even, in my opinion, deserve his Favour. I began to consider a while, whether he might not, perhaps, intent some new expression of goodness, to me; because, whensoever I find myself receive any particular Favour from our Lord, it is, ordinarily, after I have even defeated, and annihilated myself. And I conceive, that our Lord proceeds thus with me, to the end, that I may see the more clearly, how far I am out of the way, of deserueing his Favours.  
Shortly after this, my Spirit was so absorbed, and snatched away, that, in effect, it seemed to be absolutely out of my Body; at least, it was not understood, that it lived in it. And then I saw the most Sacred Humanity of our Blessed Lord, in much more excessive glory, than ever I had discerned before. Now this was represented to me, by a certain admirable, and clear notice, of his being placed in the very bosom of his Father. Nor yet do I know what to say, of how this was; for it seemed to me, that I saw myself present, before that very Divinity, and yet, without seeing myself; and I remained so amazed, and every way, indeed, in such sort; that I think there passed some days, before I was able to return to myself. For, still I was conceauing, that I had the Majesty of the Son of God, present with me, though it were not yet, like the former; for, this I understood well enough. But how soever, it remained so engraven in my Imagination, that I cannot be rid of it, how short soever the time were, wherein it was represented to me; and this is matter, both of great comfort, and of great benefit to my Soul.  
Now, I have seen this very Vision, at three other times; and this, in my opinion, is absolutely, the most sublime Vision, which ever our Blessed Lord gave me; and it brings the greatest improvement, and profit, with it. For it seems, that the Soul is greatly purified by it; and that it doth utterly take away all strength, from the sensuality of our Self-love. It is a vehement flame, which seems to burn up, and even annihilate, all the desires of this life. And since (God be blessed for it) I had already no inclination, to idle, and impertinent things, it was here declared to me, in distinct manner, that all was vanity; and in particular, how vain, all the Superiorities, and Signories of this world be. And it falls out also, to be of mighty instruction, for the raising-up of our desires, to be lodged upon the purity of Truth; and there remains a high kind of adoration, and reverence of God, imprinted after a certain manner, which I know not how to describe; but it is of a very different kind, from whatsoever we can acquire, in this world. It creates also, a huge amazement in the Soul, to consider, how she ever durst, or how any creature can presume so far, as to think of offending such a Supreme Majesty of Almighty God.  
I have declared sometimes heretofore, the effects of Visions, and such other things; but I have also said already, that a Soul receives more, or less profit, according to the proportion, and manner of the Vision, as the same may be, either more, or less. But in this, it was extraordinarily great, when I came to receive the Blessed Sacrament; and I did then, record to myself, that incomparable Majesty, which I had seen, and understood, to be the very same, which is in this most Holy Sacrament. And, many times, our Lord is pleased to let me see him, in the Sacred Host, where upon the very hair of my head would stand on end; and, me, thought. I was even annihilated, outtight. O my dear Lord and if thou didst not overshadow, and even hide thy greatness, who would ever presume to approach so often, as we do, towards the joining of such wretched, and filthy things, as we are, to so high a Majesty, as thine. But Blessed be thou for ever, my dear Lord; and let the Angels, vea and all Creatures, praise, and glorify thy holy name, who dost so measure, and weigh things out, together with our great weakness, as that we may be able to enjoy those Sovereign Favours of thine, without being frighted, by thy infinite power; though yet we be so miserable, and unworthy Creatures.  
Me thinks, it might happen to us here, as once it did to another; and this I know to be true. A certain Labouring-man found a treasure; and the same falling out to be greater, than could get room in his strait, and narrow-hart, he coming to have this treasure in his power, grew withal, to have such a melancholy in his mind, that he came, by little and little, to die, by the very care, and affliction of his thoughts, for not knowing, what he were best to do, with his treasure; Whereas, if he had not found it all together; but that some one had given it him, by little, and little, accommodating him, and sustaining him by degrees, the poor man would have lived contented, and it would never have cost him his life.  
O thou, who art the riches of the poor! and how admirably dost thou know, how to sustain Souls? and how careful art thou, to show them treasures, by little, and little; and that they may not see too much at once; when I see so great a Majesty, as thine, dissembled, as it were, and disguised, in so small a thing, as the Sacred Host? It is true, that in these latter times, and since I have been partaker of these Visions, I am even in admiration, at so great a wisdom; nor do I know, how our Lord gives me strength, and courage, to approach it. But if he, who hath done me, and doth me still, so great Favours, did not govern me also heerin, it were not possible, that I could dissemble the matter any longer, but must cry out, and that aloud, at the sight of so great wonders, as these.  
And what now is it then, that so miserable a Creature, and so loaden with abominations, as I am, and who have spent my whole life, in so little fear of Almighty God, aught to find, with all reason, in herself; to see, that she approaches so great a Majesty, even when he is pleased, that my Soul should behold him, with her very eyes? How shall this mouth of mine, which hath uttered so many words, against the Service of that very Lord himself, presume to touch that most Glorious Body of his, so full of piety, and purity; since the love, which that Divine Countenance, of so much beauty, suavity, and affability, discovers to us, doth more afflict, and wound the Soul, then doth, even that fear, and terror, which is bred in us, by the consideration of his high Majesty. But what then, should I feel in myself, who have seen all this, whereof I speak, two several times? I am really about to say, O thou my dear Lord, and the very Glory of my Soul, that I have, in some kind, done thee Service, by the great afflictions, which my Soul hath felt in herself; and yet, alas, alas, I can hardly tell even what I say, who am, in effect, writing this, without knowing, almost, what I do, For I find, that I am all troubled, yea and half besides myself, when I go back, to bring these things to my remembrance; though I might seem to have some little reason, for what I say; and that I had done some little thing, for thy Service, O my Lord, & my God. But since I am not the owner of so much as one good thought, if thou impart it not to me, there is nothing, for which I can pretend to be thanked; but I am still the debtor, O my Lord; and still, thou art the party offended.  
Going one day, to receive the B. Sacrament, I saw two Divelis, with the eyes of my Soul, more clearly, then if I had seen them with the eyes of my Body, in a most abominable figure. And, me thought, their horns did encompass the very throat, of a certain poor Priest; and I saw also my Lord, with that great Majesty, whereof I have spoken, placed in those hands of that Priest, which he was going to minister to me, with the same sinful hands of his; for I understood that Soul, to be then, in the state of Mortal Sinne. But now, what kind of Object, must it be, to see thy Beauty, O my Lord, in the midst of so abominable figures? Those Devils were, as all amazed, and frighted, in thy presence, and willingly enough, would have been gone from thence, if they could have gotten thy leave. This gave me such an excessive trouble, that I knew not, how I should be able to Communicate, through the great fear, wherein I was; as conceauing, that, if it had been a true Vision, his Divine Majesty would never have permitted, that I should discern the misery, wherein that poor Soul remained. The same dear Lord of mine, commanded me to pray for that Soul, and told me, that he had suffered, what I had seen, to the end, that I might know, of how great power, and force, the words of Consecration were; and that Almighty God would not be kept from thence, how wicked soever that Priest should be, who pronounced them; and to the end, that I might also discern his great goodness, in not forbearing to put himself into the hands, even of his greatest enemies, for the good, both of me, and of all men. And I also understood thereby, how much more, Priests are obliged to be virtuous, and good, than other men; and how terrible a thing it is, to take the B. Sacrament unworthily; and how absolute a Lord, the Devil is, of any Soul, which is in Mortal Sinne. In fine, this passage did me a great deal of good, and gave me a most particular knowledge, of the very great obligation, wherein I was, to Almighty God; And let him be Blessed, and praised, for all eternity. Amen.  
Another time, I happened to see another thing, which amazed me extremely. I was in a certain place, where a certain person died, who had lived very ill, and that many years; but during two of them, he had been sick; and, in some things, he also seemed to be reform. This man died without Confession; but still, it seemed to me, that he was not to be damned; though yet, whilst men were shrouding him, and preparing him for Burial, I saw many Devils possess themselves of that Body; and they seemed, as it were, to play with it; and yet withal, they used divers cruelties upon it; for they did, with certain great hooks, both tear, and toss it, from one to another; and this struck me into a very great fear. When afterward I saw him carried to be buried, with all the ceremony, and honour, which is allowed to others, I considered the goodness of Almighty God, in not permitting the Soul, even of that man, to be defamed, but that it might be concealed, that he was an Enemy of his.  
For my part, I was even turned half fool, by what I had seen; yet, during all the performance of the Office of the Dead, there was no more Devil, to be seen; but when afterward, they put the Body into the Grave, there was such a multitude of them, ready to receive the Body, that I was even out of myself, with beholding it; and it was no little courage, which I needed, for enabling me to dissemble the seeing it. And I considered, how those Devils were likely to treat that Soul, when they exercised such an absolute dominion, even over that woeful Body. And I would to Christ, that, what I saw, had also been seen by such, as are in Mortal Sin; for, me thinks, it must have been of much effect, and force, towards a making them mend their lives.  
Now, all this obliged me to know, more and more, what I owed to Almighty God; and from what he had delivered my Soul, But yet I went on, with fear enough, till I had imparted these particulars to my Ghostly Father, as conceauing, that, perhaps, it might have been some Illusion of the Devil, whereby to defame that Soul, though yet the man had not been held to be of very good life. But yet, it is very true, that whether it were an Illusion, or no, I am sure, I never remember it, but it makes me afraid.  
And now, since I have begun to speak of Visions, which have relation to some such persons, as are dead, I will also declare some things, concerning some other kind of Souls, which our Lord hath been pleased, that I should see. But I will speak only of few; both to be the shorter, and because it will not be necessary to say much, in order to the receiving of benefit thereby. They told me once, that a certain man was dead, who had been Provincial of his Order; but when he died, he was Provincial of another Province. Now, I had communicated much, with this man; and had been obliged to him, for some good offices, which he had done me. This man was of much, & many virtues; but yet when I came to know that he was dead, I was greatly troubled at it, because I was in fear, and doubt, of his Salvation, in regard, that he had been a Prelate, or Superior, twenty years; which really, is a thing, that I am apt to fear, as holding it, to be a matter of much danger, to have charge of Souls. And so I went, with trouble enough, to an Oratory, and gave him all that little good, which I had ever done, in my whole life; which yet was little enough; and I humbly besought out Blessed Lord, that he would supply, out of his infinite merits, for as much, as that Soul might what, towards the freeing itself, out of Purgatory. And whilst I was begging this Boon of our Blessed Lord, in the best manner I could, me thought he rose, as from some deep part, out of the earth, on my right side; and so I saw him mount-up to Heaven, with very great joy. The man was very old, before he died; but yet now, he seemed to me, to be but of thirty years old, or rather somewhat less; but with much brightness, in his face. This Vision passed away, very speedily; but yet I was so extremely comforted by it, that the death of that man, did put me now, to no more pain; though I had troubled many others, about him; for he was very well beloved. And thus also the comfort of my Soul, being so great, I could not possibly doubt; but that the Vision was true; and no illusion. This happened but fifteen days, after his death; but still I was not slack; in procuring, that he might be recommended to Almighty God; save that, I could not do it so heartily; as before I saw this Vision. For, when our Lord shows me such things, and that yet I will pray for them afterward, I cannot choose but conceive, that it is, as if I gave an Alms to a rich man. But now, I came to understand afterward, (for the man died very far off) that the death, which our Lord granted him, was of so great comfort to him, by the knowledge of himself, and by the humility, which he expressed, that it was of very great edification.  
Now, a certain Religious Woman died at home with us, about a day and a half, before that occurred, whereof I am going to speak; but she had been a good Servant of Almighty God. And another Religious Woman reading one of those Lessons, which belong to the Office of the Dead, which was recited in the Choir, for her Soul, it was my turn, to stand by; and assist, in repeating the Versicle; but in the midst of the Lesson, me thought, I saw the Soul rise up, as the other did; and so went to Heaven. Now, this was no Imaginary Vision, like the last; but like others, which I recounted before. Yet these be no less certain, than those others are.  
There was also another Religious Woman of between eighteen, and twenty years old, who died at home, in our House. Now she had been always sickly, and a great Servant of God; and very diligent in the Choir; and, in fine, a very virtuous woman; and really, I was apt to think, that she should not have gone to Purgatory at all, but rather, that there would have been supernumerary merits, in regard of the many sicknesses, which she had endured. But yet, when we were reciting the Office, before she was buried, and some four hours after she died, I understood, that her Soul sprung up, out of the same place, and went to Heaven.  
Being one day, in a College of the Society of JESUS, with those great afflictions, and troubles, which I have declared myself sometimes to have had, and still have, both in Body, and Soul, I found myself, to be in such condition, that me thought I was not able, so much as to entertain one good thought. There died, that night, a Brother of the Society, of that House; and I recommending him, the best I could, to Almighty God; and being at the Mass of another Father of the Society, for his Soul, I was seized by a very great Recollection; and I saw him goe-up to Heaven, with much glory; yea and I understood, that our Blessed Lord himself, did accompany him, by way of particular favour.  
A Religious man of our Order, who was a very good man, was fall'n very dangerously sick; And I, being then at Mass, grew to be in very great Recollection, and saw, that the man was dead; and that he went, instantly, to Heaven, without touching upon Purgatory at all; and he died in that very hour, as I was told afterward. Now I wondered, that he had never entered into Purgatory; but I understood, that he, having been a Religious man, and having well observed the Vows of his Profession, the Bulls, granted in favour of his Order, had availed him, towards his escape of Purgatory. Now, I know not, why this was given to be understood, by me; but, me thinks, it may be very well, to make me know, that a man's being a Religious man, doth not consist only in his Habit; I mean, not in the only wearing it, as if that very thing, did endue him with more perfection.  
I will now relate no more of these things; for there is no great cause, why I should; though yet our Blessed Lord have done me the favour, to show me very many. But amongst all those Souls, which I have seen, I have not understood of any one, which escapes the going at all, into Purgatory, but only this last Father, and that holy man, Fray Pedro de Alcantara, and that Dominican Father, of whom I spoke before. Our Lord hath also been pleased to let me see the several degrees, which they have of glory, by representing the places to me, wherein they are; and I find, that there is a great deal of difference, between some, and others.   

THE NINE AND THEIR TIETH CHAPTER.  
She proceeds in the same Subject, of showing the great Favours, which our Lord had done her. And she declares, how he was pleased to promise his Favour to them, for whom she should beg it; and she relates some important particulars, wherein his Divine Majesty had done her particular Favours, of this kind.  
BEing once very importunate, with our Blessed Lord, that he would be pleased, to give sight to a certain person, to whom I had obligation, and who was almost grown to be utterly blind, I had much compassion on him; and I feared, lest our Lord would not hear me, in regard of my Sins. But yet he appeared to me then, as he had also done, at other times, and began to show me the Wound of his left hand; and, with his right hand, he drew out the great nail, which had been thrust into it; and me thought, that some of the very flesh, came out, with the nail. I saw well, how great pain it did import; and it afflicted me much. But he told me, that since he had endured so much for my sake, I should not doubt, but that he would more easily be drawn, to hearken to this Suit of mine; and so he promised, that he would grant, whatsoever I should desire; but, he knew very well already, that I would beg nothing of him, but only to his own honour, and glory; and that I made this present Suit, under that condition. He willed me also to remember, and consider, that even, when I did him not true Service, I had not desired any thing of him, which he had not granted, even better, than myself had desired; and therefore, how much more would he be sure enough, to do it now, when he knew I loved him; and therefore, that I should banish all doubt. And, I think, eight days did not pass, but that our Lord restored sight, to that person; and this was presently known, by my Ghostly Father. Now, peradventure, as I thought at first, this did not happen, by means of any prayer of mine; though yet, since I saw this Vision, I have remained with some little certainty, that the thing was done, by the Favour of his Divine Majesty, to me; and accordingly, I have presented him with my thanks.  
Another time, there was a person sick, of a very painful infirmity; which, because it was of an odd condition, and way, I forbear to particularise it here. But it was a kind of insupportable thing; and he had been troubled with it, two months; but he endured a torment by it, which did even tear him in pieces. Now, my Ghostly Father went to visit him; and that, was the rector of the College, of whom I spoke; and he had great compassion of the man; and told me, that, in any case, I must also go & give him a Visit, for that he was a person, to whom I might handsomely do it, in regard, that he was my Kinsman. I went, and had so much pity of him, that I began to beg his health of our Lord, after a very importunate manner. And in this, I saw clearly (by the very uttermost, of what I am able to imagine) how much Favour our Lord was pleased to do me therein; for instantly, upon the very next day, he was absolutely well.  
I was once in a great deal of trouble, because I came to know, that a certain person, to whom I was much obliged, was resolved to do a thing, which was greatly against the honour, both of Almighty God, and himself; and yet he was very much bend, to do the thing. Now, my trouble for this, was so great, that I knew not, which way to find remedy, and means, to make him leave it; and indeed, it rather seemed, that there was none. But then, I besought Almighty God, and that with my whole hart, that he would help us; and till I could find it done, I should be in pain. Being therefore now in this case, I went to a certain Oratory, a little remote from where I was; for there are divers such, in this Monastery; and finding a Picture of Christ our Lord, as he was bound to the Pillar, I humbly begged of his Divine Majesty, to do me that Favour. And presently, I heard one speak to me, in a most sweet voice; but it was framed, as if it had been, in the manner of whistling. For my part, I was all in a fright; and the very hair of my head, stood an end; and I had a great desire, to hear, what it said to me. But when once my fear was gone, (which was also quickly), I remained with rest, and joy, and so great an interior kind of delight, that it amazed me, how the only hearing of a voice, (and that, with the only ears of flesh, and blood; yea and without the articulation, or framing of any one word) was able to produce so powerful an operation in the Soul. But, in the mean time, I found even thereby, that the thing, which I had desired, should be done; and so it was; and the pain, wherein I found myself, concerning it, was utterly removed, in a thing, which was not yet, as if I had found it, to be certainly granted, as it happened to be, afterward. And I related the whole accident, to my Confessors, who, at that time, were two; and they both, were very learned men, and the Servants of Almighty God.  
I knew also of a certain person, who had resolved to serve his Divine Majesty, in very good earnest; and he had used Prayer, some days; and therein, his Divine Majesty had done him many Favours; and yet he gave-over his course of Prayer, upon certain occasions, which occurred to him; and those he did not quit, although they were full of danger. This put me to a great deal of pain; because the man, whom the matter concerned, was a person, whom both I loved much, and whom I also was much obliged to love. And, I believe, it had been more than a month, wherein I did almost nothing else, but beg of Almighty God, that he would bring this Soul back, to himself. And being in Prayer, one day, I saw a Devil hard by me, with certain papers in his hand, which he was tearing; and he seemed to be in a very great rage. But this put me into much comfort; because I conceived thereby, that my Suit was granted; and so it was, as I came to know afterward. For, the Party had been at Confession, and had done it, with great Contrition; and he returned, in so very good earnest, to Almighty God, that I hope in his Divine Majesty, he will ever go advancing in his Service. And let him be Blessed for ever, Amen.  
In this particular, of procuring our Blessed Lord, to bring Souls out of grievous Sins, upon my humble suit; and of others, who were brought, many times, to more perfection; and of freing Souls also out of Purgatory; and of doing other things also of great importance, the Favours of our Blessed Lord, have been so great, that I should both weary myself, and my Reader, if I would pretend to relate them. And these things have happened oftener to me, for the benefit of Souls, then of Bodies; and this is so very well known, that it hath many witnesses. But then instantly, there grew a kind of Scruple upon me, since I could not choose but believe, that our Lord was pleased, to do divers things, through my Prayer, (for, in this case, and at this time I abstract from his goodness, and mercy, which is ever the chief cause of all things) but for the rest, these are now so many particulars, and so well known by others, that I have no difficulty at all, to believe them; and I bless his Divine Majesty, for the same; and they put me to great confusion; because I still find myself, to be, more, and, more, a debtor. But that consideration makes my desire to serve him, increase; and revives my love. And (which yet amazes me more,) those things, which our Lord finds not to be convenient, I can scarce beg of his Divine Majesty, even almost, although I would; and if I do, it is with so little strength, and spirit, and care, that, although I would fain force myself, yet it is even impossible for me, to do it in these, as I do it in those others, which his Divine Majesty hath a mind to effect; for, such, I see, I am able to beg often, and that, with great importunity; and though I carry not the particular care of them, about me, yet me thinks, they come before me, of themselves. So that the difference, between these two ways of ask, is so very great, as I am not able to declare. For, though I ask in one of these kinds of things, wherein, I forbear not to urge myself to beg them of our Lord; (howsoever I feel not that kind of fervour in myself, which I do in those other) and though they chance to import mine own particular very much, yet is it, in effect, but as when a man chances to be toung-tyed; who although he would fain speak, yet he cannot do it; and if he speak, it is but in such sort, as that he sees, it cannot be understood; whereas the other; is, as when a man speaks clear, and plain, to a man, whom he finds very willing to hear him. Or else, let us say, that one of those Favours, is begged, as by a Vocal Prayer; and the other, as in a way of Contemplation, which is so very sublime, that our Lord represents himself in such sort, as that we understand, that he understands us; and that his Divine Majesty is joyed to see, that we beg any thing of him, that so he may do us favour. Blessed be he for ever, who gives us so much; and to whom I give so little. For what, O my Lord, doth any man, who doth not even defeat himself wholly for thee? and yet, how much, how much, how much, and a thousand times more, I might say, how much, am I wanting heerin? And now, upon this reason, I should not so much, as once desire, even to live (though yet, I have other reasons also, not to desire it) because I live not, according to my obligation towards thee. Nay, how full do I see myself of imperfections, and with what faintness, and baseness, do I serve thee? And really, me thinks, sometimes, I wish, that I were even deprived of sense, that so I might not understand so very much ill of myself, as I do. Yet I beseech him, to redress it all, who knows so well, how to do it.  
But I remember, I spoke before, of my being in the House of a certain great Lady; where, I assure you, folks had good reason, to have their wits, well about them, and always to be considering the vanity, which worldly things carry with them. For she was a person, very much esteemed, and very much praised; and there were temptations enough, towards less perfection, through much distraction; whereby one might easily, have been shrewdly taken, if I had looked upon nothing, but myself. But he who judgeth rightly, and looks upon us, with true sight indeed, was careful not to give over the keeping me, ever, safe, in his hands. And now, when I am speaking of having a true, and real sight of things, I remember, and consider, the great trouble, which any such person, as whom it hath pleased Almighty God to endue with a knowledge of that, which indeed is Truth, must needs be put to, when he is forced to treat with others, about things, which concern this transitory, and troublesome world; where, all, in fine, is much disguised, and masked, as our Lord himself told me once.  
But, in the mean time, many of those things, which I write here, are by no means, of mine own head; but they have been told me, by that Heavenly Master of mine. And because, in all those things, which I am wont to affirm, after a direct and positive manner, I use to express myself, by these words: This I understood; or else, Our Lord told me this; I find myself with a very great scruple, of either adding, or, any way, altering, so much as any one syllable thereof. And so, whensoever I do not most expressly remember every circumstance of any thing, of this kind (which is to be related by me) I am wont to deliver that, always, as in mine own name. Or else, because sometimes they proceed from mine own particular dictamen, I use not to call any thing mine, which is good in itself; because indeed, I am far enough from being ignorant, that any such thing, as is in me, is good; but I affirm only those things, as in mine own name, and they are delivered, as by myself, which did not come into my understanding, and knowledge, by way of Revelation.  
But O my dear Lord, and my God and how often doth it happen to us here, that even, in the most spiritual occasions, we are resolved, many times, to understand things, but just so, as we have a mind to understand them ourselves; and even they are wrested much, from the true sense. And so we also do, in things of this world; and we will needs make ourselves believe, that we must tax even our own profit in Spirit, according to the measure of the time, wherein we have had any exercise of Prayer. Nay it seems, that we have had a mind, to put a tax, and limit, upon him, who, by no means, will be subject to any, when there is question of imparting his Favours, which he is wont to dispose, when he will, and who can impart more benedictions to one, in six months, then to another, in a great multitude of years. And this is a most certain truth, which I have seen so expressly verified, even with my very eyes, upon the instance of many persons, that I wonder, how we can so much as detain ourselves, in the least doubt thereof. But I am very apt to believe, that a man, who hath any talon, in trying, and knowing Spirits, and to whom our Blessed Lord shall have given true Humility, will not be able to fall, and continue in this error. For, such a man will judge of things, by the effects, and by the strong purposes, and firm resolutions, and love of the party, who is chiefly concerned. And besides, our Lord is wont to give such a person light, whereby he may be able to understand it; and by that very light, he also discerns, the profiting, and proceeding forward, of Souls; and not by the number of years, wherein they have attended to these things. Because some one Soul, may, as I said before, have obtained that, in six months, which another shall not have been able to get, in twenty years. For, as I said also before, our Lord bestows those things, to whom he will; and commonly he doth it to such, as dispose themselves best, to receive them. And in proof hereof, I see, that there come now to this House of ours, certain Gentlewomen, and Ladies, who are very young; and yet, when our Blessed Lord vouchsafes once to touch their hearts, and to give them a little Light, and Love; and when, in a very short time, he is pleased to allow, and impart some Regalo, and gust of Spirit, to them, they have not stayed, and paused; nor was any difficulty able to offer itself against them, which could stop them; but they would be going on, without so much as remembering, that they were to live, by eating their meat; and they shut themselves up, for ever, in a House, without having so much, as any Revenue, upon which to live; like persons, who put no manner of esteem, upon any thing of this world, for the love of him, who, they know, loves them. And they give over, even all things, all at once; nor have they any will at all, which is merely their own; nor do they understand it, to be possible, that ever they can receive disgust, by enduring such a strait shutting up; but all of them, offer-up their whole selves, in Sacrifice, to the honour, and glory of Almighty God.  
And now, how willingly, and justly do I allow them, to have gotten the Start of me heerin? and how mightily ought I to be ashamed, and even confounded, in the presence of Almighty God, to see, that, what his Divine Majesty could not finish in my Soul, through my fault, in such a multitude of years, since I used Prayer, and wherein he began to do me Favours, he hath yet been able to accomplish in them, within three months; yea and even, with some of them, in three days, with doing them also far less Favour, then to me. Though yet withal, it be very true, that our Blessed Lord, pays them so well, for their pains, that they are all, very far, from being sorry, to have done, whatsoever they have done, for the love of him.  
For this purpose, I could wish, that we might call to mind, how many years they are, since we made our Profession, and have used Mental Prayer. Not yet, for the giving them any trouble, by making them turn back, who have made a great deal of way, in a short time, and to get them to go, but our pace, which is as much as it would be, to make them, who fly like Eagles (through the Favours, which it hath pleased Almighty God, to do them) to walk the slow dull pace of a shackled Hen; but to the end, that we may grow, to carry the honour of his Divine Majesty, in our eye. And then, if we find these Sisters of ours, to be humble, whom we see, to be so forward, in the way of Spirit, that we should give them, still, the reins. For certainly, our Blessed Lord, who hath done them so great Favours already, will never suffer them to break their necks, by falling down, as from some dangerous rock. They commit, and trust themselves, in the hands of Almighty God; for, this benefit do they reap, by the truth, which Faith teaches them; and shall not we also trust them there? but 
* An excellent & most useful Document.  must we limit, and confine them, by our narrow measure, according to the meanness, & straightness of our own poor minds? No, no; this must not be; but rather, if ourselves cannot arrive to be owners of those strong affections, and firm resolutions, which abound in them (for, these things cannot be well understood, without experience) let us procure to humble ourselves, and not condemn them? For else, by seeming to have a care of their advantage, and profit, we shall deprive ourselves, of our own; and we shall also lose the occasion, which our Lord shows us so fair, for our own greater humility; and that we may the better understand, how much is wanting to us; as also, how much more absolutely, those other Souls are likely to be untied, and freed, from worldly things than ours; and how much nearer, they are approached to Almighty God, than we; since we see, that his Divine Majesty, is come so much closer up, towards them, than us. For my part, I can understand no more, in this case; neither indeed have I any desire to understand more, then that I had rather have such Prayer, as having been obtained, and exercised but a short time, might be found to have great effects, and which instantly appear, (for it is impossible, that a Creature should be content, to throw away a whole world at once, upon the only reason, of pleasing Almighty God, without a mighty force of love) than such an other kind of Prayer, as should have continued many years; and yet never, in fine, have made an end of resolving upon any more, at the last, then at the first, to do aniething, for the pure love of Almighty God, unless it be some poor, little, fiddling babble, which is no bigger, than a grain of Salt, which hath neither bulk, nor weight, but is such, as that any Bird might be able, to carry it away, in her Bill. For, I confess, we hold it not, for a matter of much effect, and mortification, when a great account is made, of doing such, and such things, for the love of our Lord, which indeed, it is both pity, and shame, that we should understand, and value, at any rate, though perhaps we should do never so many, of that kind. For my part, I am but one of these, and am apt, not only to forget the Favours of Almighty God, but even to overvalue mine own poor endeavours. I say not yet, but that his Divine Majesty will vouchsafe to put some value even upon little things, through his own great goodness; but as for me, I would make no account thereof; nor, in effect, so much as see, that I do them, since they are but a kind of Nothing. But yet, pardon me, even heerin, O my dear Lord; and blame me not, if I procure to comfort myself, with thinking of this little kind of Somewhat, since I am able to serve thee solidly, in Nothing; but if really I found myself able, to serve thee, in things, which were indeed of weight, and moment, I would be far from making account of these things, of Nothing.  
O how happy are those persons, who are able to do thee Service, in great matters? And certainly, if having envy of them, and entertaining earnest desires, of being able to do the like, inight be taken by thee, for good payment, upon true account, from this poor Servant of thine, infallibly I would not sitt-out at pleasing thee. But the truth, my dear Lord, is this, That directly I am good for nothing; though yet, thou mayst well give me value, since thou lovest me so much.  
But now, it happened lately, by a Breve, which came from Rome, that this Monastery should be uncapable of Revenue; so that now, it may be esteemed to be finished. It cost us some trouble to effect it; and I remained with much comfort, to see things settled. And reflecting upon the difficulties, which I had met; and praising our Blessed Lord, for his being pleased, to have partly served himself of me heerin, I applied myself a little, to look back, upon all the passages of the whole business. And really, it is very true, that in every one of those particulars, wherein there might be any appearance, that I had contributed somewhat, I find many imperfections, and errors; Sometimes, of little Courage; and sometimes also, of little Faith. For, till I saw all that accomplished, which it had pleased our Blessed Lord to tell me before, of what should be done, concerning it, I did never, in a resolute, and assured manner, make an end, of fully believing, that it would be, though yet withal, it be true, that I also could not tell, how to doubt it. Nor knew I, how all this could stand together; but it seems, that many times, it looked in my eye, as if it must be impossible, on the one side, and yet, it could not be doubted, on the other; I mean, it could not be firmly believed, but that the thing, would be done. Yet, in fine, I found, that there was this advantage in it, That our Lord himself, did all the good, which was done; and I, all the ill; and so I would think of it, no more: because, if I did, I should be sure to stumble upon many faults of mine own. But, Blessed be he, for ever, who, when he is disposed, knows how to fetch good out of them all; Amen.  
I say then, that it is no less, than a kind of dangerous thing, to go rating, and measuring the only years, wherein any body may have had the exercise of Mental Prayer. For, though perhaps, there may be a piece of Humility in the consideration thereof, yet withal, it also seems, that there is a kind, of I cannot tell what, as if there were a show, that a body would conceive, that he had deserved some little thing, for his pains. I say not, that these years of Prayer, have not their worth; and so we shall be well paid for them; but yet, if any Spiritual person shall conceive, that, for the many years, wherein he hath used Mental Prayer, he deserve those great Regalo's, and gusts, I hold it for a most infallible truth, that he shall never get up, to the top of Liberty of Spirit. But, is it not, on the other side, enough, that he hath obtained so much Favour of Almighty God, that he defends him so far, as to hinder him from committing such Sins, as he fell into, before he was a man of Prayer? but that now, forsooth, he will needs proceed with his Divine Majesty, for the Favours, which he hath received from his holy hand, as those Debtors use to do, who go to Suit with Creditors, for their own money. Perhaps (as I was saying) this may look, in some lights, like a piece of profound Humility; but for my part, I cannot think so; but rather, that it is a part of boldness. And I am sure enough, that I (with being not humble at all) never durst presume, so far. Yet perhaps, this last is true, in regard, that I never did God any service; and therefore, I have begged no such favour at his hands; whereas yet, if I had thought, I had deserved, I should have been more earnest, than any other, in desiring of our Lord, that I might be paid, even here, for my pains. And yet, I do not say, but that a Soul may go increasing, by this means; and that God will make him amends, if his Prayer have been humble; but yet still, I would fain have that point forgotten, which speaks of reckoning-up those many years of our Service of our Lord. For, all that, which we are, any way, able to do, is fit to make a man, even cast the gorge, in comparison of the least drop of that blood, which our Blessed Lord shed for us. And if, besides, it be most really true, that, by doing Service to Almighty God, we come to be his debtors, so much the more, what manner of thing is it, that we should fall upon begging recompenses of that kind; since, if we pay a Farthing of the old debt, there returns a Bill of a thousand Ducats upon us, for a new Loane. But, in fine, for the love of our Lord, let us leave to pass these judgements, which indeed, ought not to be ours, but his. This course of making Comparisons, is not excellent, even in temporal, & familiar things; and what then shall it be, about that, which God only knows? And his Divine Majesty shows well, that he knows it; for he resolves, when he thinkesfitt, to pay the last Labourer, as well as the first.  
I have written that, which here I have delivered in these three sheets of paper, at so many several times, and in so several days, (for I had, and have still, as I have said, so little means, and leisure) that I had forgotten what I was beginning to say, about this Vision, which follows. But I saw, whilst I was in Prayer, a great Field, lying open, and all apart, by itself; and that, much company, of different kinds, was round about me, which circled me in. And it seemed to me, that euerie one, had offensive weapons in his hands, wherewith to hurt me; as Lances, Swords, and Daggers; and others had also long Staffs. In a word, I could not get from thence, by any way, or means, without danger of death; especially, being alone, and not having any one Creature, to help me. And being thus, in so great affliction of Spirit, that I knew not what to do, I liftedup mine eyes towards Heaven, and saw Christ our Lord; not then in Heaven, but yet very high, and far off from me, in the air, who reachtforth his hand, towards me, and favoured me from thence, in such sort, that I feared neither all that other people, nor yet these; who all, were unable to do me hurt, how much soever they should desire it. This Vision seems, at the first sight, to be without any fruit, or good effect, at all; but it hath yet done me a great deal of good, because I have understood what it signified. For, I saw myself, in that encounter, shortly after, and knew, that it was nothing else, but this Vision; and I also came to know it, to be a very picture, or rather Map of the world. For, as many as are in it, (abstracting ever from those few, who apply themselves, to do our Lord particular Service) seemed to carry Arms against this wretched Soul of ours; as namely, Honours, Estates, Delights, and the like. For it is evident, that the Soul is all overcast with a Net, before it be aware; at least, all these things, do the best they can, to endanger, and wrapp us up, fast enough; as namely, Friends, Kindred, and (which amazes me more) even such, as are virtuous people. For, I found myself afterward, to be extremely pressed, and even oppressed, by them: they conceauing, in the mean time, that they carried themselves very well; but, the while, I knew not at all, either how to defend myself, or what to do.  
O my dear God and if now I should stand, to relate the kinds, and differences of those troubles, which set upon me, at that time, even after all those others, whereof I spoke before, how well might this, be able to serve for a means, to make a man wholly abhor all things? It was, me thinks, the very greatest persecution of all, that ever I had endured. For, I felt myself, at some times, so straightly set upon, on all sides, that I only found remedy, by lifting-up mine eyes to Heaven, and crying upon Almighty God. And I remembered very well, what I had seen, in this last Vision of mine; and it did me a great deal of good, towards a not putting confidence in any Creature; for, there is no one of them firm, and stable; but only God alone, is entirely, and truly so. But, in these great afflictions, our Lord hath ever used to send me some person, or other, who, in his name, might lend me his hand; as he signified to me, that he would; and as he did also let me see, in this last Vision; and so I tied not myself to any thing, but only to please our Blessed Lord; and this hath served to sustain this poor little virtue, which I had, in desiring to serve him; And let him be Blessed for ever.  
But finding myself once, very unquiet, and in great disorder, yea and in skirmish, or rather, in a very battle, without being able to recollect myself; yea and my thoughts being scattered, and dispersed, upon things, which were not very perfect; and withal, not seeming, to be so utterly untied from all things, as I used; and being still, so wicked, as I was, I grew afraid, that the Favours, which our Blessed Lord had done me, might fallout to be Illusions; and, in fine, I then remained, with a very great obscuritic of mind. But now, whilst I was in this pain, our Lord began to speak to me, and told me, that I must not be thus afflicted; but that, finding myself in that case, I might well understand even thereby, in how great misery I must remain, if once he should depart from me; and that there was to be no security at all, as long as we should continue in this world. I was also given to understand, how well our labour was employed, in this strife, and war, since it would not fail to be followed, with so high a reward. And, me thought, our Blessed Lord had compassion of them, who live in this world; but that I must not think, that he had forgotten me; yea and that he would never leave me; but yet so, as that still I must also do my part, in helping myself. And this did our Blessed Lord declare to me, with a kind of tender compassion, and Regalo, accompanied with certain words, whereby so high Favour was done me, as I need not stand here to relate. And these others, which follow here now, his Divine Majesty saith also often to me, with demonstration of most particular love: Thou art now, grown to be mine; and I am thine. And those words, which I am ever wont to say (and to my thinking, I say them, with much truth) are these, which follow: What care I, O my Lord, for myself but only for thee? But I confess, those words of his, to me, are of great Regalo to my hart; though yet withal, they be of excessive confusion, when I remember, what kind of Creature I am. But 
* A true noble, & most generous hart.  it seems, that I have need of more courage, for the receiving of those high Favours, then even for the enduring of unspeakable afflictions. But now, when these things are in motion, all the poor good actions of my life, are utterly forgotten by me; and then, it is only represented to my mind, how wicked I am; and that, without any discourse at all, of my understanding; so that even this also, doth seem, at certain times, to have somewhat of the Supernatural in it.  
Sometimes, there come also upon me, so earnest, and even eager appetites, of receiving the Blessed Sacrament, that I know not, whether it can be possible for me, to express them to the full. It happened to me one morning, that it rained so extremely, as to seem no way fit for me, to go out of doors. But yet, being once gotten abroad, I was already grown also, to be so far out of myself, through that desire of Communicating, that although they had set Lances, even pointed, and held fast against my very Breast, me thought I could have passed, even through them all; and how much more then, through water. And as soon, as I arrived at Church, I was taken with a very great Rapt. For, me thought, the very Heaven was open, and not by one overture only, as I had seen it, at other times; and I saw another also above that, upon which I understood (by way of a certain notice, which I am not able to express) the Divinity itself to be, though yet I saw not the Divinity. And, me thought, it was upheld, by certain Mysterious Beasts; and I was considering, whether they were not those of the Evangelists. But yet, I neither saw, how the Throne was seated, nor who was sitting in it; but only a great multitude of Angels, about it; which seemed to me, of much more beauty, beyond comparison, than those others, which I had seen in Heaven, before. And I have been thinking, whether they might not have been Seraphins, or Cherubins; for, they are very different, in point of glory; and they seemed, to be mightily inflamed. And as for the glory, which then I felt in myself, it can neither be written, nor spoken; nor is any one able, even to think it, but such as had been made partakers of it, by seeing it. But I understood, that absolutely all that, which possibly can be desired, was there; and that, all together. I there, saw nothing at all, distinctly; but they told me (yet I know not, even who they were) that the thing, which I might there be able to do, was, to understand, that I could understand nothing; but that I might see from thence, the direct nothingness of all things, in comparison of that. And really, it is very true, that my Soul, from that time forward, hath found itself, as if it were extremely affronted, and confounded, to observe, that it was able to pause at all, upon any thing created; and how much more then, to be affected, either by it, or to it. For, all things seem to me, ever since, to be neither better, nor more, than the very nest of an Ant. But I Communicated; and was at Mass; though yet I knew not, how I could be so. I conceived, that the time had been very short; and wondered, when the Clock struck; and so found, that it was two hours, wherein I had remained, in Rapt, and glory.  
I was amazed after this, to know, how, by approaching so near to this Fire, which seemed to come from above, out of the true love of Almighty God, it was yet, in no power of mine at all, to get the least spark thereof, but only, when his Divine Majesty was pleased to impart it. For, how much soever I desire it, and how earnestly soever I procure it, and would defeat, and even destroy myself for it, there is yet no means at all, to obtain it. But now, this Rapt of mine, seems even to have consumed the faults, and lukewarmness, and miseries of the old man, as the Phoenix is said to do herself, out of whose ashes, when she is burnt, springs another Phoenix. For just so, doth a Soul become absolutely an other kind of thing, with desires wholly different, and with a courage so increased, that now she seems not, to be, what she was before; but now begins to walk, with a new kind of purity, in the way of our Lord. And I just then beseeching his Divine Majesty, that it might prove to be so, in my case, and that I might now, at least, begin, as upon a new account, to do him service, he spoke these words to me: Thou hast made a good Comparison; and see, that thou forget it not; that so, thou mayst ever procure to improve thyself.  
And being once, in the selfsame doubt, whereof I spoke even now, whether these Visions were of God, or no, our Lord appeared, and spoke these words, to me, with some rigour: How long, O ye Sons of men, will ye continue to be hard of hart? And he also willed me then, to examine myself well, upon this one Interrogatory: Whether I were entirely given to him, for his, or no; and that if I were given so, and was so, I should believe, that he would not suffer me to be lost. And whereas I afflicted myself much, upon his uttering that exclamation aforesaid, he returned with great tenderness, and Regalo, and told me, that he would not have me afflict myself; and that he knew already, that I, for my part, would not fail, to apply myself wholly to that, which might be for his Service; and that so, he would also do all that, which I desired of him, against Illusions; and so he was pleased to do that thing in particular, which then I humbly begged, at his hands. For he willed me, to look in, upon the Love, which went increasing daily, in me; for, thereby, I might best understand, that the Devil had no part in it; and that I must not think, Almighty God would consent, that the Devil should have so much power over the Souls of his Servants, as to be able to give me such a clarity of understanding, together with such a depth of repose of mind, as I possessed. And he gave me also further to understand, that such, and so many men, having told me, that these Visitations were of Almighty God, I should do ill, if I did not believe them.  
Being also another time, in Prayer, upon S. Athanasius' Creed, of Quicumque vult, &c, I was given to understand the manner, how there was one only God, and three Persons; and this, in so perspicuous, and clear a kind, that I was no less comforted by it, then amazed at it. This also, did me very much good, towards the giving me increase of knowledge, concerning the greatness of Almighty God, and of his wonders; and for all such occasions, also, as wherein I think of the Blessed Trinity, or hear speech thereof. And now, me thinks, I conceive, how all that Mystery stands, very well; and it contents me much.  
One day, upon the Assumption of our B. Lady, the Queen of the Angels, our Lord was pleased to do me the Favour, in a certain Rapt, that her rising up, into Heaven, was represented to me, together with the solemnity, and joy, of that Celestial Court, wherewith she was received; as also the place, which she held. To tell, what kind of thing this was, I am no way able. The glory, which even my Spirit had, to see, that hers is so great, was even extreme; and I remained with great effects, and improvements, by it, towards a wish, of undergoing yet, greater afflictions, for the love of our Lord. And so it also gave me increase of desires, to serve our B. Lady, since both her dignity, and merit, was so great. And being one day, in a College of the Society of JESUS, and the Brothers of that House, being then in act of receiving the B. Sacrament, I saw a very rich Canopy, over their heads; and this, at two several times; but yet, when others Communicated there, I saw it not.   

THE FOURTIETH CHAPTER.  
She proceeds in the same Discourse, by relating the great Favours, which our Lord shown her; whereby, good instruction is to be gotten. And with the end of this Chapter, she ends also the Discourse of her Life.  
BEing once in Prayer, the delight, and gust, which I felt within myself, was so great, and I found myself so unworthy of so high a Favour, that I began, upon that occasion, to consider, how much better I had deserved to possess that place in Hell, which was prepared for me; for I could never forget, in what manner I had seen myself there. And now, by means of this consideration, my Soul began to be so much more inflamed, that my Spirit grew to be in Rapt; and so, as that I know not, how to express it. For, me thought, I was put, and plunged, into that Majesty, which I had formerly understood; but yet so, as that I know not, how to declare it. In this Majesty, a certain Truth was given me to be understood, which indeed, is the accomplishment of all Truth; but yet still, I know not how to relate it. For, I saw nothing at all distinctly; but they told me these words, though yet I saw not, who spoke them; only I knew, that it was the very Truth; This, which I do for thee, is no small matter; but rather, it is a thing, for which thou owest me much; because one of the mischiefs, which grows to the world, proceeds from not knowing the Truths of Scripture, with clear truth; but, one tittle thereof, shall not fail. Now, as for me, I conceived, that myself had always believed this; yea and that all Catholics, had also believed it. But then, he said to me again: Alas, my Daughter, there be few, who love me, according to Truth; for, if they did, I would not conceal my secrets, from them. But, dost thou know, what it is, to love me, according to Truth? It is, to know, that all is a Lie, which is not acceptable to me. Thou shalt be able, to see this clearly (which now thou dost not understand) by the profit, which thy Soul shall get. And so accordingly, I have seen it performed; our Lord be ever praised, for it. For, all things, which are not addressed to the service of Almighty God, do, of late, seem to me, so hugely to be vanity, and a lie, that I am no way able to express, how much I understand thereof. And it moves me to deep compassion, to see men live, in so great obscurity, and ignorance, as they are in, of thy Truth; but, by this means, I have benefited myself, in many kinds, whereof I will here relate some; and some I shall not be able to relate.  
But our Lord said one word to me here, in particular, with very great favour; though I know not also, how this was. For I saw nothing; but I remained in such sort, after it, as I know not also, how to declare, even that. Only I am sure, I remained, by this means, with a very great kind of fortitude, and firm purpose, of accomplishing even the least part of Holy Scripture, with the uttermost of all my power. And nothing, me thinks, could offer itself to me, through which I would not pass, for the making this good.  
There remained also a truth, of this Divine Truth, which was now represented to me (though yet still, I know not how) so deeply engraven in my hart, that it made me carry a new kind of profound reverence to Almighty God. For it imparts a notice of his high Majesty, and great Power, after such a manner, as cannot be described; but I can only understand, that it is a mighty kind of thing. I now remained also, with a very great desire, never to speak at all, but of things, which were substantially true; and which might justly take precedence of all that, which uses to be treated of, in this world. And so I then began, to find it pain enough, even to live in it. This Vision left me with a Regalo of great tenderness; and with humility also. It seemed to me, that our Blessed Lord did give me to understand much, in this vision, though yet, without my understanding the manner of it; but, at least, I was satisfied well enough, that it was no Illusion. I saw nothing; but yet I understood the great benefit, which there is, in not making account of any thing, which brings us not nearer to Almighty God; and so I came to understand, what kind of thing it is, for a Soul, to walk in Truth, in the presence of the same Truth. That, which I understood, is, that our Lord gave me to understand, That he is very Truth itself. And all these things, at which I have now pointed here, I understood sometimes, by their being spoken to me; and at other times, without speech; but yet, some of this latter sort, with more clearness, than those others, which were imparted to me, by words. I understood very great truths, of this Truth; and better, then if many learned men had taught me; and at least, it seems to me, that they could, by no means, have so imprinted them, in my mind, nor so clearly have given me to understand the vanity of this world. This Truth, which, I say, was given me to be understood, is very Truth, in itself; and it is both without beginning, and without end; and all other Truths, depend upon this Truth; and all other Loves, upon this Love; and all other Greatnesses, upon this Greatness; though yet, all this be delivered by me, with much obscurity, in comparison of that clearness, wherewith our Blessed Lord was pleased to impart it. And, how very well doth this become the great power of that Majesty, to leave such things as these, imprinted upon the Soul, whereby such advantages are obtained? and that, in so short a time? O Greatness, and Majesty of my Omnipotent Lord! What is it, which thou art doing? Consider who it is, to whom thou art vouchsafing such Sovereign Favours? Dost thou not remember, how this Soul hath been a very Abyss of Lies, and even a deep Sea of vanities? and all this, through faults of mine own? For, notwithstanding that thou gavest me an inclination, which, naturally, did abhor lying, yet I made myself apt to treat, in many things, after a deceitful kind of manner. How art thou able, O my God, even to endure me? and how can so great goodness of thine, be showed to one, who hath so ill deserved it? and how can so much Sin against thee, be compatible with such Favours, as these?  
Being once reciting the Hours of the Divine Office, with all the rest of the Religious, my Soul began to be suddenly recollected; and it seemed to me, that it was like some clear, and pure Lookingglass, without having any thing, either on the back, or on the sides; or yet, either above, or below, which was not all, extremely clear. And in the very Centre thereof, Christ our Lord was represented to me, just so, as I am accustomed to see him. It seemed to me, that I saw him clearly, in all the parts, and portions of my Soul, as in a Lookingglass; and so also (though I know not how) our Blessed Lord himself, was engraven therein, with such a certain kind of enamoured communion, or communication of himself, as I cannot possibly express. Only I know, that this Vision hath been of very great benefit to me; and is so, whensoever I remember it; and especially, after I receive the B. Sacrament. But it was given me hereby to understand, that the being of a Soul in Mortal Sin, is to make this Glass be covered, with a great Cloud, and so, to become very dark; and that so, though our Blessed Lord be ever present with us (yea so very present, as that he gives us our very Being, thereby) yet then, he is not so represented, as to be seen by us; And that, when the Case concerns Heretics, the Lookingglass is directly broken, which is far worse, then to be obscured. But now, there is a very great deal of difference, between my seeing it, and my relating it; for it is no easy thing, to give it well to be understood. Yet this hath done me a great deal of good, and hath affected me with much pity, and grief, for those times, wherein myself did obscure my Soul, in such sort, as that I was not able to behold, and see this Blessed Lord of mine. It seems also to me, that this kind of Vision, is very useful to persons, who are of much recollection, to teach them a way of thinking of our Blessed Lord, as in the most interior part of their Souls; which is a consideration, that will stick closest to then, and will be of much more benefit, then if they were considered; as any way our of the Soul, according to what I have said else where; and it is contained also in some Books, which are written of Prayer, about the way, how we are to seek Almighty God. In particular, the Glorious S. Augustin speaks much, of, how Almighty God is not to be sought, either in pleasures, or external places; and that he could be no way found so well, as in ourselves; and this is certainly the best way; nor have we need, to go further off, then to our very selves; and much less, to clime-up as high as Heaven, for this purpose; for, this will but distract the Soul, and weary the Spirit; and do us nothing near, so much good.  
I will also give an advertisement here, to the end, that if any body have any such thing, as that, he may know the better, how to carry himself. It happens in some very great Rapts, (when the time is past, wherein the Soul remains in Union; and when all the Faculties, and Powers thereof, are absorbed; and which lasts, as I have said, but a little while) that the Soul remains recollected, and is not able, in the exterior way, to return to itself; but those two Powers, and Faculties, namely the Understanding, and Memory, remain, as with a kind of frenzy, in great disorder. This, I say, happens sometimes; and especially, with Beginners. And I have been thinking, whether it may not proceed, from this, That our condition is naturally very weak, and not able to admit, and endure so great a strength of Spirit, and that the Imagination is weakened also much; and I know, that this happens to some. Now, for my part, I am apt to think, that it were not ill, to oblige them, in such cases as this, to leave-off their Prayer, for that time, and to go recovering that, afterward, which they lose then; that so, all come not on together; for it may chance prove an occasion of much inconvenience. And of this, we have experience; and that it will fall out, to be of better proof, to consider very well, how much our state of health, and strength, is able to endure. But in all things, there will be need of good experience, and of a good Director; for, when once the Soul is grown to be in these terms, many things will come to offer themselves, wherein there will be need enough of some body, with whom it may be fit, to consider them. And if any such man can not be found, when he is sought, our Blessed Lord himself, will not be wanting to him, since he would not be wanting to me, I being the wicked Creature, I am. For I believe, there are very few, who are come to have experience of so many things; and if there be not experience, it is in vain to think of any remedy, which will not rather serve to disquiet, and afflict the Soul. But the best is, that our Blessed Lord will take even that trouble of ours, in account, for some satisfaction of himself; and therefore it will fallout, to be better done, to confer thereof, as I have formerly said; and so will it also be, to proceed, after this manner, in all those things, whereof I am speaking, now. For I see, that this imports very much, (especially if they be women, who are concerned) and that they do it, with their Ghostly Father; and that he also be such, as is fit. At least, there use to be more women, than men, to whom our Lord imparts these Favours; and this I understood first, from the holy man, Fray Pedro de Alcantara; and I have also seen myself, that they proceeded, and profited more, in this way of Spirit, than men do. But he gave excellent reasons, for his opinion, which need not be inserted here; for they all, are in favour of women.  
Being, one day, in Prayer, there was suddenly represented to me (but it was without my seeing any thing form; and yet it was with a very extraordinary kind of clarity) how all things, are seen, in Almighty God; and how he hath them all, in himself. To know, how to set this down, is in no power of mine; but it remained deeply imprinted in my Soul; and it was one of the greatest Favours, that ever had been done me, by our Blessed Lord; yea and of those also, which put me to greatest confusion, & shame, when I considered the many sins, which I had committed against him. I well believe, that, if our Blessed Lord had been pleased, to let me see this Vision, at some other time of my life; or if they could see him now, who are sinning against him, they would never have the hart, and courage, to do, as they do. It appeared to me, as I said; but yet so, as that I cannot expressly affirm, that I saw any thing distinctly; but yet somewhat, me thinks, must needs have been seen by me, since I am able to make this very comparison; but that it fell out, to be signified, by so delicate, and subtle a way, as that the understanding is not able to reach it; or else, that I have no skill of all those kinds of Visions, which seem not to be Imaginary; but yet, in some of these, I verily think, that perhaps there may be somewhat of the Imaginary, or form appearance, and that only the Powers of the Soul, being then in Rapt, they are not able afterward, to assign any Form, in what manner our Lord represents himself to them there; and how he is pleased, that they shall enjoy him. But yet, supposing it to be the Divinity, in the form of some bright Diamond, which were bigger, than the whole world; or else, of some Lookingglass, after the manner of what I said before, concerning the Soul, in that other Vision, (save that this is in so superior a kind of manner, that I am not able to express it) and that all that, which we do, is seen in this Diamond (it being such, as that all things are shut-vp in it, because there is nothing, which can get out of that greatness) it was a thing extremely to amaze me, to be able to see, in so very short a time, so many things together, in this bright Diamond. And so was it also matter of extreme compassion, and grief, for me (every time, that I remember myself) to have seen, that things, so very ugly, and fowl, as my sins were, should be representted, and showed, in that so clearness of light. And the truth is, that whensoever I remember it, I know not, how it comes to be possible for me, to endure it; and I did really then remain, so extremely out of countenance, and ashamed, that, me thinks, I could not tell, where to hide my head.  
O 
* Great effects of a Vision.  that some Creature, or other, were able to give this Truth to be well understood, by these people, who commit dishonest filthy sins; that so they might come to know, that they are not secret; and that Almighty God, hath reason to be very sensible of those wrongs, since they are acted so truly, in the presence of his Divine Majesty; and that we carry ourselves, with so base irreverence, before him.  
I saw here also, how justly Hell is deserved, for any one Mortal Sin; because it is passed our power, to understand, what a most grievous crime it is, to commit it, in the presence of so great a Majesty; and what an unspeakable distance, and dissimilitude, is found, between that, which he is, and that, which our Sins are; and how it appears even hereby, so much the better, how great his mercy is, since, notwithstanding he knows all this, he yet endures us.  
It hath also made me consider, that if such a Vision, as this, can leave the Soul so extremely astonished, and amazed, what kind of thing, will the Day of judgement prove to be, when this Majesty of Almighty God, will show itself, with all clearness; and so we shall also clearly see, what kind of things, our sins were, which we committed against him. O my dear God what blindness is this, which hath seized me? And I have often been amazed, even whilst I have been writing this; and your Reverence need be amazed at nothing, but how I am able even to live, whilst I am looking both upon these things, and myself. But let him be eternally blessed, who hath vouchsafed to endure such things, at my hands.  
Being once in Prayer, in very great recollection, and with much quietness, and sweetness, me thought I was all emcompassed with Angels, and very near to Almighty God; and I began to be an humble Suitor to his Divine Majesty, for the benefit, and advantage of his Church. And he gave me to understand, the much good, which a certain Order should do the world, in these latter times; and the great courage, wherewith the Members thereof, should defend, and uphold the Catholic Faith.  
Being once in Prayer, near the Blessed Sacrament, there appeared to me a certain Saint, whose Order was in some decay. He had a great Book in his hands, which he opened, and willed me to read certains Letters in it, which were very legible, and large; and they said thus: In future times, this Order shall flourish, and have many Martyrs.  
Another time, being at Matins in the Choir, six or seven persons were represented, and set before me; and I held them to be of the same Order, and they had Swords in their hands. And I conceive, that I was given thereby to understand, that they should defend the Faith. For, being in Prayer, another time, and rapt in Spirit, me thought, I was in a very spavous field, where many were, who fought; and they of this Order, did also fight, with great fervour. They had their faces beautiful, and much inflamed; and they beat multitudes of men, down to the ground, and killed others. This battle seemed to be given against Heretics; & I have seen this Glorious Saint, divers times; and he hath told me some things, and given me thanks, for the Prayers, which I make for his Order; and he hath promised, that he will recommend me to our Blessed Lord. I specify not the several Orders here, lest some should be offended at it; and if our Lord shall think it convenient, he may declare them. But every Order should procure, and so should every particular man of every Order, that, in so great a necessity, as that, wherein the Church is, at this time, they might be able to serve her. For, happy are those lives, which may come to lose themselves, upon this occasion.  
A certain person desired me once, to beg of Almighty God, that I might understand, whether or no, it would be for the Service of his Divine Majesty, that he should take a Bishopric. I did so; and our Lord made me this answer, after I had Communicated: When he shall understand, with all clearness, and truth, that true Dominion consists, in possessing nothing, he may take it, then. Giving thereby to understand, that, whosoever is to be a Prelate, must be very far, from so much as desiring it; and yet further, from procuring it.  
These Favours, and many other also, have been, and are still, very ordinarily showed, by our Blessed Lord, to this sinful Woman; which, me thinks, are not very necessary, to be related; since by those, which are delivered already, my Soul, together with the Spirit, which our Lord hath given me, may be understood. But let him be ever blessed, who hath had so much care of me.  
He told me once, by way of comforting me, that I must not afflict myself (and this he did, with most tender love) for that, in this life of ours, we could not possibly, be always after the same manner; but that sometimes, I would be in fervour; and sometimes, without it; Sometimes, with unquietness, and temptations; and Sometimes, without them, and in peace; but that I must hope in him, and fear nothing.  
Being one day in thought, and doubt, whether it were not a kind of being tied to Creatures, to be glad to be with such persons, as with whom I treat the business of my Soul; and to love both them, and others also, whom I find to be the Servants of Almighty God; and to receive comfort, by being with them; he told me, that, if when a man is dangerously sick, the presence of a Physician, seems even to restore him to health, it would not be a virtue, to forbear to be glad of him, and to love him. And what (said he) wouldst thou have done, if it had not been, for such, as they? That he disliked not, that conversation should be held with such, as were good, but that my words must ever be well considered, and holy; and that so, it would be rather profitable to me, then hurtful, not to give-over communication with them. Now, this imparted a particular comfort, to me; for sometimes, it would seem, to be a having too great a tye, upon creatures, which made me once incline, to give-over the custom I had, to converse with them. But our Lord did ever counsel me, in all things; yea so far, as even to tell me, how I should carry myself, towards weak persons; and some others also; and he never lays the care of me, aside, But I am much troubled, to find, that I am good for so little, in his Service; as also, that I can do the less, through my spending more time, than I wi●h, upon so weak, and wasted a body, as mine is.  
As I was once in Prayer, and the hour of our going to rest, came on, I found myself, in a great deal of pain; and knowing, that my ordinary Vomits would arrive; and obserueing myself to be so tyed-up, to these cares; and the Spirit, on the other side, desiring to have some time, for itself, I grew to be even so tired, that I began to be greatly afflicted, and to weep much; and that happens very often to me. And this condition puts me to such a kind of anger, that, me thinks, I do, in those times, even abhor myself; though yet it be true withal, that I do not abhor myself indeed; nor yet am wanting, in what is necessary for me; and I rather pray God, that I take not more care of myself, than I should; and so, I fear, I do. But now, whilst I was in this grief, our Lord appeared to me, and regaled me very much; and told me, that I must endure these troubles, and goe-through with them, for love of him; and That my Life, was necessary, yet; And so, me thinks, I never see myself in any very great pain, which I value, since I resolved to serve this Lord, and Comforter of mine, with all my power. For, though he permitted me to suffer a little, yet would he still be assisting me so withal, that I esteem not myself to do much, in desiring to suffer afflictions, for his sake. So that now, me thinks, there is no reason, why we should even desire, so much as to live, but only, to the end that we might suffer; and accordingly, this is the thing, which I beg, with most affection, of Almighty God. And sometimes, I am saying to him, with my whole hart: O Lord, let me either suffer, or die; for I beg no other thing of thee, for myself. And now it uses to comfort me, to hear the Clock strike; for so, me thinks, I am grown, a little nearer, to the seeing of God (though it be but a little) because one hour more of my life, is past. At other times, I find myself in such sort, that I neither take much pleasure, in living; nor yet, me thinks, have any great mind, to die; and so, in the mean time, I remain with a kind of stupidity, and darkness of mind, in all things; and, many times, I also have some troubles. And since our Lord was pleased, that those Favours should be publicly known, which his Divine Majesty vouchsafed to show me (as he himself had told me, some years ago, that they should be; which gave me vexation enough; and it is not a little, that I have endured therein, as your Reverence knows; for every body, will understand things, as he lists) I comfort myself yet, with this, that it hath not arrived by my fault; because I never spoke of any such thing, but either to my Ghostly Fathers, or others, who I knew even by them, had understood thereof. For of this, I was very wary, even to extremity; though yet perhaps, I abstained not, so much, for respect of humility, as in regard, that I had pain enough, to tell even my Ghostly Father thereof; and therefore, how much less would I impart things of this nature, to others.  
But now, I earnestly desire, that Almighty God may receive glory by it; howsoever there be some, who murmur at me, very much, upon this occasion; though even yet, I think, they may peradventure do it with good zeal. And there are others, who are afraid, even to treat with me, in any kind; yea and even to receive the Confession of my Sins; and others, say also other things. But how soever, since I understand, that it hath pleased our Blessed Lord, to reduce many Souls, by this means; and because I see clearly, and remember continually, how much, himself would be pleased to endure, for the gaining of one Soul, I allow myself to take little trouble for any thing, which men can say of me. And I know not, whether or no, this may not have been a part of the cause, why his Divine Majesty hath placed me, in this little Corner of the world, where I am so shut up; and where I thought, there would be no more memory of me, then of a thing, which was dead. But their forgerfulnes, was not so great, as I wished; and so I have been constrained, to speak sometimes, with some persons. Yet howsoever. I am not now, where the world may easily, see me; for it seems, that our Lord hath been pleased, to drive me from Sea, to this Port; and I trust; in his Divine Majesty, that it will prove a very safe one, for me. And since now I am out of the world, and find myself, in the company of few (but they, holy Creatures) I look down, upon the world, as from a place, which is very high; and so, it is grown to be of little moment with me, what they, below, do either say, or think. And I would make much more account, to understand, that any one Soul should have profited to the weight of one little grain, in God's Service, by my means, then of all, which can be said of me, in any kind. For, since I have found myself, in this place, our Lord hath been graciously pleased, that all the desires of my hart, might have no other aim, but this. And he hath also given me, even a kind of sleep, in this life, which makes me find, that whatsoever I see, is but dreaming; nor am I able to say, that I reap, either much contentment, or trouble, by any thing of this world. And if yet some things give me any, it passes away, with so very great speed, that I even wonder at it; and it makes but just, such a kind of impression upon me, as a thing would do, whereof I had dreamt. And it is a most perfect truth, that although I should afterward have a piece of a mind, either to be glad of any contentment, or to be sorry for any mis-accident, and trouble, it is really no more now, in my power, but just so, as any man, who were discreet, would take, either trouble, or joy, from a dream of his own. For now, our Blessed Lord hath already been pleased, to awake, and open the eyes of my Soul, from out of that folly, wherein it was. And whereas, by my not being mortified, nor dead, to the things of this world, I was wont to have much feeling of such things, as happened, his Divine Majesty is pleased now, that I should lose my true sight, no more.  
In this sort, Sir, do I live now; and I beseech your Reverence, my good Father, to beg of Almighty God, that he will either take me quickly to himself; or else I beseech his Divine Majesty, that he give me power to serve him. In the mean time, I humbly beseech Almighty God, that what I have written here, may be of some use, to your Reverence; and I have not done it, without some trouble, in regard of the little conveniences, which I had. But happy shall this trouble be, if I have chanced, to hit any thing, right; and if our Blessed Lord may receive some one only Act of praise, by occasion thereof, I shall esteem myself to be fully paid, though your Reverence should burn it all, immediately after. And yet I could not wish, that this should happen, till those three persons had seen it, of whom you know; since they are, and have been, my Ghostly Fathers. For, if the thing be not right, it will be fit, that they give-over the good opinion, which they have of me; and if, on the other side, things go well, I know, that they are good, and learned men; and they can not be ignorant, from whence it comes; and they will give him glory, and praise, who hath done it, though he have served himself of me, therein. I beseech his Divine Majesty, that he will ever keep your Reverence, in his holy hand, and make you so great a Saint, as that you may, with Spirit, and Light, illuminate this miserable Creature, who hath so little of the humble, in her, and so much of the bold, as that she hath presumed to write of these high things. I beseech our Lord, that I have not erred therein, whilst my aim, and desire was, to hit right, and to obey; and that, in fine, there might be somewhat, for which our Lord should be praised. For, this is that great Suit, which I have made to him now, these many years; and, since I have wanted works, whereby to comply with this aim, I have adventured, upon commandment, to see, if I could put this irregular, and confused Life of mine, into some order; though yet, without employing, either any more attention, or time, then that, which was merely necessary, for writing it. And so I have only set those things down, which have occurred to me, and passed in me, with all plainness, and truth, to the very uttermost of my endeavour. And I humbly beseech our Blessed Lord, that, since he is so powerful, as that, if he will, he can; he may be pleased, to make me wholly, hit the mark, in performance of his holy will; and not permit, that this Soul be lost, which his Divine Majesty hath been pleased, by so many ways, and even cunning industries of his, yea and that, so many times, to deliver, and bring out of Hell, and to draw up, so very close, to himself;  
Amen.  
Benedictus Deus.   

This Book was finished (the first time) in june, in the year of our Lord God, 1562. It was written then, without distinction of Chapters; but afterwards, it was written by this glorious Saint, again, and then it was divided into Chapters; and many things also were added by her, which happened afterwards; and particularly, that, which concerned the Foundation of the Monastery of S. joseph, of Auila.   

A Letter, written by the Glorious S. Teresa, to her Ghostly Father, who had commanded her to write her own Life, for as much as might concern her manner of Prayer, and the Favours, which our Lord had shown her. And this Letter did she send to him, together with the Book itself.  
THe holy-ghost be always with your Reverence, Amen. It would not be amiss, even almost to exaggerate the Service, which now I am doing to your Reverence, that so you may, even hold yourself, to be the more obliged, to take very particular, and great care, to recommend me to Almighty God. And this, I may well presume to do, since it hath cost me so very dear, to see myself thus, set down in writing; and to have brought, by occasion thereof, so many of my great miseries, to my remembrance; though yet withal, I can affirine with much truth, that I have had far more aversion, and trouble, upon my declaring the Favours, which it pleased our Blessed Lord to do me, than it would have been for me, to discover, even the offences themselves, which I have committed against his Divine Majesty. But, in the mean time, I have done, what your Reverence hath commanded, in order to the enlarging myself, in this Discourse; though yet withal, it be upon condition, that your Reverence will also do, what you promised, in tearing whatsoever you shall not like. I had not finished so much, as the very reading it over, after I had written it, even now, when your Reverence sent to me, for it; and therefore, it may very well chance, that some things are ill declared; and others, very unnecessarily repeated; for, the time, wherein I was able to do it, did prove so very straight, and short, that I could not so much, as look over, what I had written. I beseech your Reverence, to reform my errors heerin; and to command it, to be copied out, and sent to Father Auila; for else, perhaps, the hand may be known to others. But I desire very much, that such order may be taken, as that he may see it; since I partly began to write it, upon that design. For, when he shall once conceive, that I go in a way, which is right, I shall be very much comforted by it; and so, when I shall have used this diligence, there will be, on my part, no more to be done. I humbly pray your Reverence, to do, in all things, as you shall think fit; and consider, that you are even obliged, therein, for such an one, as trusts her Soul in your hands, after so confident a manner. As for yours, I will be recommending it to our Blessed Lord, all the days of my life; and I beseech you therefore, make great haste to serve his Divine Majesty, to the end, that you may be the better able, to do me also favour, with him; since your Reverence will easily see (by that, which goes in company of this) how well, all your endeavours will be employed, in going on, as you have already begun; and in bestowing yourself totally, upon him, who hath given himself, so wholly to us, without any limits at all. Let him be blessed, and praised, for ever; and for my part, I hope, through his mercy, that both your Reverence, and myself, shall, one day, grow to understand more clearly, the great blessings, which he hath been pleased to show us both, that so, we may be able to praise him, for all Eternity's,  
Amen.   

A TABLE OF THE CHAPTERS.  

1. CHAP. THe Saint shows how our Lord began to stirr-up her Soul, in her Childhood, to the performeing of virtuous actions; And of the help, which it gives, in order to this end, to be borne of virtuous Parents.  
2. CHAP. She shows how she went looseing in the way of virtue; And how very much it imports, to converse, in Childhood, with virtuous persons.  
3. CHAP. She treats, how her falling into virtuous company, was the occasion of her returning to awake good desires in herself; And how our Lord began to give her some light, of the error, wherein she had formerly been.  
4. CHAP. She relates, how our Lord assisted her to force herself to take the Habit of Religion, and of the many infirmities, which our Lord began to bring upon her.  
5. CHAP. She prosecutes the relation of the great infirmities which she had, and of the patience, which our Lord gave her in them; and how benefits are drawn out of mischiefs; as will be seen by a certain particular, which happened to her, in the place, whither she went to be cured.  
6. CHAP. She treats of how much she owed our Lord for his giving her conformity, to his holy will, in so great afflictions; And how she took the Glorious Saint joseph for her Intercessor, and how advantageous that Devotion proved to be.  
7. CHAP. She shows, by what degrees, and means, she went looseing the Favour which our Lord had done her, and how ill she began to live. And she also declares the harm there is, in not maintaining Clausure, in the Monasteryes of Religious women.  
8. CHAP. She treats of the great good it did her, towards the not looseing her Soul, not to have wholly given over her Prayer; As also, what an excellent remedy that is, towards the gaining of whatsoever good thing; which is lost. She persuades all Creatures to use it; and declares the great benefit thereof; and although we should afterwards leave it, yet still it would prove a great good, to have used so great a help, for some time.  
9 CHAP. She declares, by what means our Lord began to awake her Soul, and give her light in so great darkness; and to strengthen also her virtues, that so she might offend him no more.  
10. CHAP. She begins to declare the Favours, which our Lord did her, in Prayer; and speaks of that, wherein we may be able to help ourselves; And how much it also imports us, to understand the said Favours, which our Lord is pleased to do us. She humbly desires of him, to whom she sends this account of herself, that whatsoever she shall declare, from hence forward, may remain in secret with him, since he had commanded her to set down, in so particular a manner, the Favours, which our Lord was pleased to do her.  
CHAP. 11. She declares, in what the fault consists, of not obtaining to love God with perfection, in short time. She begins to deliver it by a Comparison, which contains Fowre Degrees of Prayer. And she treats here of the first, which is very profitable, for beginners; & for those also, who have no sensible delight, or gust, in Prayer.  
12. CHAP. She prosecutes her Discourse of the first State, or Degree of Prayer, and declares, how far we may arrive, of ourselves, by the Favour of our Lord; And of the hurt it brings, to desire that our Spirit may rise to Supernatural, and Extraordinary things, till our Lord himself be pleased to ordain it.  
13. CHAP. She proceeds in this First Degree, and State of Prayer, and gives advice against some temptations, which the Devil is sometimes want to bring. This Discourse is very profitable.  
14. CHAP. She begins to declare the Second Degree of Prayer, wherein our Lord is already pleased, to give the Soul more particular gusts; which she declares, to the end, that she may make them be understood to be Supernatural. This Discourse is very much to be noted.  
15. CHAP. She prosecutes her Discourse of the same matter, and gives some advice, how persons are to carry themselves, in this kind of Quiet Prayer. She treats, how, many Souls come to arrive to this Degree of Prayer, and that few pass beyond it. The particulars which are touched beer, are not only very profitable, but very necessary.  
16. CHAP. She treats of the Third Degree of Prayer, and goes declareing some very high points; and what a Soul which arrives thus far, may be able to do; and what effects, these so great Favours of our Lord, are accustomed to work. The sense hereof is very fit to raise the Spirit high, in the praises of Almighty God; and it is also of great consolation for the Soul, which arrives to this State.  
17. CHAP. She prosecutes the same Argument about this Third Degree of Prayer; and finishes the declaration of the Effects; which works, and declares also the disadvantage, which the Memory, and Imagination, are want to bring, in this case.  
18. CHAP. She treats of the Fourth Degree of Prayer. She begins here, to declare, in excellent manner, the great dignity, to which our Lord advances that Soul, which is exalted to this State. It serves to animate men much, to endeavour that they may arrive to so high a condition, since it may be obtained in this world, through the goodness of our Lord, though it cannot be deserved. Let this be read with consideration, and care.  
19 CHAP. She prosecutes the same Discourse, and begins to declare the effects, which this degree of Prayer, works in the Soul. She persuades men earnestly not to turn back, nor to give-over their Prayer, though they should happen to fall, even after they had received these Favours. She speaks of the great harm, which will arrive to them, if they do otherwise. This Discourse is much to be noted; and it is of great consolation, for weak persons, and Sinners.  
20. CHAP. She treats of the difference between Union, and Rapt, and declares what kind of thing a Rapt is. She speaks also of the blessing, which that Soul hath, which our Lord, through his goodness, brings thither, and of the effects, which Rapts use to produce. This Discourse is of much admiration.  
21. CHAP. She prosecutes, and finishes this last Degree of Prayer. She declares what the Soul finds therein, when she returns to live again, in the world; and the light also, which our Lord gives, concerning the deceits, and errors of the same world. This Chapter delivers excellent Doctrine.  
22. CHAP. She treats of how secure a way it is, for persons who give themselves to Contemplation, not to raiseup their Spirit to high things, unless our Lord raise them up; and that the Humanity of Christ our Lord, is indeed to be the means, towards the highest Contemplation of all others. She speaks also of an error, wherein once she was. This Chapter contains matter of much profit.  
23. CHAP. She returns to declare the course of her Life, and how she first began to think of growing to greater perfection, and by what means she did it. This Chapter is very profitable for such as are to govern Souls in order to Prayer; and to make them know, how they are to behave themselves in their beginnings, and of the benefit she reaped, by knowing it herself.  
24. CHAP. She prosecutes the former Discourse, and shows, how her Soul went profiting, when once she had begun to obey. She also declares, for how little purpose it served, to resist the Favours of Almighty God; and how his Divine Majesty, went daily imparting them to her, after a more complete manner.  
CHAP. 25. She treats here, of the way and manner of understanding those words or Speeches, which Almighty God is pleased to utter to the Soul, though yet without hearing any voice, or sound; and of some errors, or abuses, which may happen heerin; and how the right may be known, from the wrong. It is of much use, and profit, for such as see themselves in this degree of Prayer; for it is declared very well, and the Doctrine contains great instruction.  
26. CHAP. She prosecutes the same Discourse, and goes relating, and declareing such things, as happened to her; which made her to loose fear, and to be strengthened in a belief, that it was a good spirit, which spoke to her.  
27. CHAP. She treats of another way, how our Lord instructs a Soul, and gives her to understand his will, after a very admirable manner, without any Speech at all. She also declares a certain Vision, and great Favour, which our Lord shown her; and this Vision was not Imaginary. This Chaepter is very much to be noted.  
28. CHAP. She treats of the great Favours, which our Lord did her; and how he appeared to her, the first time. She declares, that it was a Vision, which shown itself by way of the Imagination; and discovers the great effects, and testimonies, which such things leave in the Soul, when they are of Almighty God. This Chapter is of great instruction, and deserves to be noted, much.  
29. CHAP. She prosecutes the Discourse, which she had begun, and relates some high Favours, which our Lord was pleased to do her; and what his Divine Majesty did further, for the securing, and encourageing her mind, and for the enabling her to answer her Contradictours.  
30. CHAP. She returns to recount the course of her life; and how our Lord gave remedy to many of her troubles, by bringing that Holy man Fray Pedro de Alcantara, of the Order of the Glorious S. Francis, to the place where she was. And she declares the great temptations, and inward troubles, which sometimes she endured.  
31 CHAP. She treats of certain exterior temptations, and representations of the Devil; and of the torments, which he gave her. She speaks also of other things, which are very fit, for the advice, and instruction of such persons, as are walking on, in the way of Perfection.  
32. CHAP. She treats how it pleased our Lord, to put her, in Spirit, into a place of Hell; which she said she had deserved for her Sins. She relates what was represented to her there; which was but a kind of shadow of such things, as are suffered in that place. She begins also to declare the way, and manner, how that Monastery was founded in Auila, under the name of S. joseph.  
33. CHAP. She proceeds in the same Subject, of the Foundation of the Monastery of the Glorious S. joseph. She declares, how she was commanded to attend to that business; and of the time, when she forbore to follow it; and of some troubles, which she had; and how she was comforted in them, by our Blessed Lord.  
CHAP. 34. She declares, how at this time, she was necessarily to go from that place; and she shows the cause thereof; and how her Superior commanded her to go, for the comfort of a certain Lady, who was much afflicted. She begins to treat of that, which happened to her there, and of the great Favour, which it pleased our Lord to do, by her means, in stirring-up a very principal person to do him very great Service; and how afterwards she received much Favour, and protection from him. This is an admirable Discourse, and very much to be noted.  
35. CHAP. She prosecutes the same Subject, about the Foundation of this House of our Glorious Father S. joseph. She speaks of the Degrees, by which our Lord came to appoint, that holy Poverty should be ordained there; and of the cause why she came from that Lady, with whom she was; and of other things also, which succeeded.  
36. CHAP. She prosecutes the Subject, which she had begunn, and declares the final conclusion of this Monastery of the Glorious S. joseph of Auila; and of the great contradictions, and persecutions, which the Religious women were put to suffer, even after they had taken the Habit; and of the many troubles, and temptations, which she was fain to undergo; and how his Divine Majesty drawn her out of all, with victory, to his own praise, and glory.  
37. CHAP. She treats of the effects, which used to remain in her Soul, when our Lord had done her any Favour, and she accompanies this Discourse, with very profitable Doctrine. She declares also, how we are to procure, and greatly esteem, the gaining of one degree of glory more; and how we must not, for any trouble, or pains, forsake those benefits, & blessings, which are everlasting.  
38. CHAP. She treats of some great Favours, which our Lord was pleased to do her, as well in acquainting her with certain Secrets of Heaven, as by giving her other great Visions, and Revelations. She declares also the effects, which they left in her Soul, and the great benefits, which she obtained by them.  
39 CHAP. She proceeds in the same Subject, of showing the great Favours, which our Lord had done her. And she declares, how he was pleased to promise his Favour to them, for whom she should beg it; and she relates some important particulars, wherein his Divine Majesty had done her extraordinary Favours, of this kind.  
40. CHAP. She proceeds in the same Discourse, by relating the great Favours, which our Lord shown her; whereby good instruction is to be gotten. And with the end of this Chapter, she ends also the Discourse of her Life.  
41. A Letter, written, by the GLORIOUS S. TERESA, which she sent, together with the Book, to her Ghostly Father.    

APPROBATIO.  
HAec vita S. Teresae, primùm Hispanico sermone à se conscripta, & postea taliter edita, nunc verò felicissimè Anglicè reddita per Illm virum M. T. iussu R mi Antuerpiensis, à me attentè perlecta fuit; & in eadem nihil dum reperi, vel contra fidem, vel quod possit, meo iudicio, pias & Christianas aures offendere; imò, cum amorem eius seraphicum, undique lucentem ac inflammantem, Lector experiatur, censeo dignissimam, ut in communem etiam Catholicorum Anglorum utilitatem imprimatur.  
Antuerpiae 5. Augusti M. DC. XLII. RICHARDUS WAKE I. V. L.