She tells how at this time she had to leave the town. She gives the reasons and tells of her superior’s command that she should go and comfort a very great lady who was in serious distress. She begins to describe what happened to her there, and to tell how the Lord, in His mercy, made her the instrument whereby His Majesty roused a very important person to serve him in earnest, also to say how she afterwards found help and protection from Him. This is a very noteworthy chapter
DESPITE all the care I took to keep people from knowing what I was doing, the work could not proceed in such secrecy that a few did not hear of it; and of these some believed in it, and some did not. I was in great fear that someone would tell the Provincial about it when he came, and that he might then order me to give the project up; which would have been the end of everything. But the Lord provided against this danger in the following way. In a large city, more than sixty miles away, lived a great lady1 who was in a state of deep distress because of the death of her husband. She was in such a desperate condition, indeed, that fears were entertained for her life. Now she had heard of this miserable sinner. The Lord had ordained that a favourable report of me should reach her ears, for certain good purposes of His own which were to result from it. This lady was a most important person, and was on good terms with the Provincial.2 Moreover she knew that the nuns of our house were allowed to go on visits. So the Lord inspired her with a great desire to see me. She thought that through me she might find that comfort which she could not discover in herself, and she tried in every way she knew to get me to visit her. Finally she sent to the Provincial, who was at a very distant place, and he despatched a message to me that I must go to her at once, under obedience and with a single companion. I received this message on Christmas night.
It disturbed me a little and grieved me a great deal to learn that she wanted me to come to her because she thought there was some good in me. Knowing myself to be so wicked, I could not bear this. I commended myself earnestly to God, and all through Matins, or for a great part of it, I was in a profound rapture. The Lord told me that I must certainly go, and must listen to no opinions, for few would give me anything but rash advice; that the visit might bring trials, but would be of great service to God and that, so far as the convent was concerned, it would be to the advantage of the project for me to be absent until the Brief arrived, since the devil was preparing a great plot for the moment of the Provincial’s coming. He told me to fear nothing, for He would help me in this. I was greatly encouraged and comforted, and when I spoke to the Rector he told me that I must certainly go. But others said that I should not be able to stand the journey, that it was a plot of the devil to bring some evil on me there, and that I ought to remonstrate with the Provincial.
I obeyed the Rector and, because of what I had learnt in prayer, went without fear, though I was considerably abashed when I thought of their reasons for summoning me, and of how seriously they were deceived. I implored the Lord, therefore, with renewed earnestness, never to abandon me, and was greatly comforted by the fact that the Company of Jesus had a house in the city to which I was going, since I felt that I should be fairly safe if I remained under their direction as I was here.
The Lord was pleased that this lady should be so greatly comforted that she at once began to show a noticeable improvement, and every day her calmness increased. This was a most remarkable thing, because, as I have said, her grief had reduced her to a very sad state. Her improvement must have been the Lord’s answer to the many prayers for the success of my enterprise which were being offered up by various pious persons of my acquaintance. She had a profound fear of God, and so Christian a spirit that her goodness must have made up for what was deficient in me. What is more, she conceived a great affection for me, as I did for her when I saw how good she was. But almost everything there was a cross to me; the comfort of the house was a real torture, and the great fuss that was made of me filled me with fear. My soul had such misgivings that I dared not be careless; nor was the Lord careless of me. While I was there, He did me great favours; and these left me so free and enabled me so to despise everything I saw – and the more I saw, the more I despised it – that I never treated those ladies, whom it would have been a great honour to serve, otherwise than with the freedom of an equal. I derived great profit from this, and told that lady so. I saw that, being a woman, she was as subject to passions and weaknesses as myself, and learnt how little importance should be attached to rank. For the higher a lady’s station, the greater are her anxieties and trials, and the more careful she must be to behave according to her position, which hardly allows her even to live. She cannot observe the proper time and order of meals, for everything has to conform with her position rather than with her constitution, and what she eats is more often governed by her rank than by her appetite.
So it was that I came to hate the very thought of being a great lady. God deliver me from this wicked, artificial life – though, despite the fact that she was one of the greatest in the land, I do not believe that there were many humbler or simpler women than she. I was sorry for her, and I still am when I think how often she has to go against her own inclinations, in order to live up to her position. Then again, though she had good servants, one can put very little trust in them. One must not confide in one more than in another, for the favourite is always disliked by the rest. This is slavery, and it is one of the world’s greatest lies to call such people masters, when, as I see it, they are slaves in a thousand ways. It was the Lord’s pleasure that, during the time I was in that house, its inhabitants should render His Majesty better service. I was not free from difficulties all the same, or from the envy of certain persons who resented my lady’s great love for me. They probably felt that I was working for some interest of my own, and the Lord must have permitted their jealousies and other such matters as a trial for me, so that I should not be sucked under by the comforts that I was enjoying there. But He was pleased to extricate me from all this, to my soul’s great profit.
While I was there, a very important person happened to arrive, a cleric1 with whom I had been in touch on various occasions over many years; and whilst I was at Mass in a convent of his Order, which was near my lady’s house, I was struck with the desire to know the state of his soul, since I wished him to be a great servant of God. So I got up, meaning to go and talk to him. But as I was then recollected in prayer this seemed to me a waste of time. What business was it of mine, I thought, and sat down again. I think that this happened to me three times, but in the end my good angel prevailed over my evil one, and I went to ask for him. He came to speak to me in one of the confessionals. I began to question him about his life, and he also questioned me about mine, for we had not seen one another for many years. I started to tell him that mine had been a life of great spiritual trials. He pressed me quite hard to tell him what these trials were. I said that they were not suitable for discussion, and that it was my duty not to say anything about them. He replied that as the Dominican father of whom I have spoken knew of them, and they were great friends, he could easily learn about them from him, and so I need not mind speaking.
The truth is that he could not help pressing me any more than I, I think, could help speaking to him. For despite all the grief and shame that I used to feel when I discussed these things with him and with the Rector whom I have mentioned, this time I was not at all distressed, but greatly comforted. I told him everything under the seal of confession. I had always considered him a man of great intelligence but now he seemed to me more clear-sighted than ever. I considered the magnitude of his gifts and talents, and thought how much good he could do with them if he were to give himself wholly to God. I have had this feeling for many years now. I can never meet anyone whom I like very much without immediately wishing to see him wholly given to God, and sometimes these yearnings of mine are so strong that I cannot resist them. Although I want everyone to serve Him, my desire in regard to those I like is particularly strong, and so I importune the Lord frequently on their behalf. This was the case with respect to the cleric I am speaking of.
He asked me to commend him heartily to God – and he had no need to ask me, for I was in a state in which I could not do otherwise – and so I went to my usual place of solitary prayer and, being extremely recollected, began to speak to the Lord in that foolish way that I often do, without knowing what I am saying. For it is love that speaks, and my soul is so transported that I take no account of the distance between it and God. The love that it knows His Majesty to have for it makes it forget itself. It seems to be in Him, and united to Him without division, and so it talks nonsense. I prayed to him with copious tears that this cleric’s soul might become truly devoted to His service. For good though I thought him, I was not satisfied and wanted him to be better; and when I had finished I remember saying ‘You must not refuse me this favour, Lord. Think what a good man he is for us to have as a friend.’
O how great is God’s goodness and kindness, that He does not judge by the words, but by the will and desires with which they are said! How could He bear a person like me to speak to His Majesty so boldly! May He be blessed for ever and ever.
That night, I remember, I was greatly troubled during my hours of prayer by the thought that I was perhaps no longer His friend. I could not be sure whether I was in grace or not – not that I wanted to know. What I wanted was to die, in order to quit a life in which I was not sure whether I was alive or dead. For I could suffer no worse death than to think that I might have offended God, and this painful suspicion oppressed me. But afterwards I felt happy again and, dissolving in tears, begged Him not to let such a thing be. I soon learnt that I had reason to be comforted and to believe that I was in grace, since my love for God was so strong, and since His Majesty was compassionately granting me these favours, which induced feelings in my soul such as He would never give to one who was in mortal sin. I became confident therefore that the Lord would do for this person what I prayed Him to, and He told me to say certain things to him. This greatly embarrassed me, for I did not know how to say them and, as I have said, I always dislike taking messages to third persons, especially when I am not sure how they will be received, or whether the recipient may not laugh at me. I became very distressed, but in the end decided that I must speak to him without fail. I believe that. I promised God to do so, but I felt so abashed that I wrote the message down and gave it to him.
Its effect upon him clearly showed that it came from God. He made a firm resolution to give himself to prayer, though he did not carry it out immediately. As the Lord wanted him for Himself, He used me as an instrument for conveying certain truths to him which, though I did not know it, so exactly applied to his case that he was astonished. The Lord must have disposed him to believe that they came from His Majesty; and for my part, miserable creature though I am, I continued to beseech Him to bring that cleric completely over, and to make him hate the pleasures and activities of this life. And so He did – praise be to God for ever! – to such a degree that each time I speak with him I am quite astounded. If I had not seen it for myself, I should have doubted whether God could possibly have granted him such an increase of favour in so short a time, filling him so full of Himself that he seems to be quite dead to the things of the earth. May His Majesty hold him in His hand, for if he progresses at this rate – which I trust in the Lord he may, for he has a very deep self-knowledge – he will be one of God’s most distinguished servants, and a great benefactor to many souls. For he has speedily gained a great deal of experience of spiritual things, these being gifts that God bestows when and how He will irrespective either of time or of service. I do not mean that time and service are unimportant, but very often the Lord will grant one person more contemplation in a single year than He will give to another in twenty. His Majesty knows the reasons why. It is wrong for us to suppose that we shall come to understand, merely through the passage of the years, things that cannot possibly be attained without experience. But many, as I have said, make the mistake of supposing that they can come to understand spirituality without themselves being spiritual. I do not mean that a man who is not spiritual but has learning may not direct someone on the spiritual path. But when dealing with inward or outward conduct, his direction must always be a matter of the intellect, and his criterion the path of nature, while as over supernatural matters he must always refer to the Holy Scriptures. For the rest, he must not worry himself to death, or think that he understands what he does not, or quell spirits which are being guided by another Master greater than he, and so are not left without authority.
He must not be astonished at this, or think such things impossible – to the Lord all things are possible – but try to strengthen his faith and humble himself, because the Lord is perhaps giving to some little old woman a deeper knowledge of this science than to himself, learned man though he is. If he possesses this humility, he will be of greater use both to other souls and to himself, than by trying to be a contemplative if he is not one. Therefore I say once more that unless he has experience, or a very great humility, which will make him realize that he does not understand and that a thing is no less possible for that, he will gain little, and the people he deals with will gain even less. But if he is humble, he need not fear that the Lord will allow him or them to fall into error.
Now this Father of whom I am speaking, who has received a large measure of humility from the Lord, has succeeded in finding out through study all that can be discovered about these things in that way. For he is a good scholar, and when he does not know a thing by experience he refers to others who do; and as the Lord helps him also by giving him great faith, he has been of considerable assistance both to himself and to other souls, my own among them. His Majesty had to call to Himself some of my directors.1 But, knowing of the trials which I had to undergo, He seems to have provided others to take their places; and they have helped me through numerous trials, doing me at the same time a great deal of good. The Lord has almost completely transformed this cleric, to such an extent that he can hardly recognize himself, as they say. He had poor health before, but now the Lord has given him the physical strength to do penances, and the courage to undertake good works. He has done other things for him as well. He seems, indeed, to have received a very special vocation from the Lord. May He be blessed for ever.
All these benefits have come to him, I believe, from the favours that the Lord has granted him in prayer, for there is no doubt about them. Already he has been pleased to test him in a number of situations, from all of which he has emerged as one who already knows what true merit is to be won by suffering persecutions. I hope that the Lord, in His greatness, will cause great good to come through him to members of his Order, and to his Order itself. All this is beginning to spread abroad. I have seen great visions, and the Lord has told me some most wonderful things about him, about that Rector of the Company of Jesus, of whom I have spoken, and about two other friars, of the Order of St Dominic;1 especially about one to whom the Lord has taught, for his profit, certain things that He had previously taught me. But from this Father2 I have learnt many things too.
One of these things I will mention here. Once when I was with him in the parlour, my soul and spirit became aware of such a mighty love burning in him that I became almost rapt away, as I thought of the greatness of God, who had raised a soul to this state in so short a time. I was greatly abashed to see him listening with such humility to certain things that I was telling him about prayer, for it was not very humble in me to talk like this to such a person. But because of the great desire I felt to make progress, the Lord must have borne with me. It helped me so much to be with him that there seemed to kindle in my soul a new fire of longing to serve the Lord afresh. O my Jesus, how much can a soul do when ablaze with Your love! What a high value we ought to set on it, and how we ought to pray the Lord to leave it with us for this life! Anyone who has this love should follow after such souls if he can.
It is a great thing for one who is sick to find another afflicted with the same malady. It is a great comfort to discover that one is not alone; and two people can help one another greatly both to suffer and to acquire merit. They form an excellent support to one another in their determination to risk a thousand lives for God, and they long for opportunities of sacrificing themselves.
They are like soldiers who want wars in order to win booty and become rich; they know that they can never be rich without fighting. Trials are their profession. What a grand thing it is, when the Lord lets us see it, to know how much we gain through suffering for Him! But we cannot understand this properly till we have given everything up. If a man clings to a single thing, it is a sign that he values it; and if he values it, he will certainly be sorry to give it up; and in that case all is imperfection and loss. Then there is truth in the saying that he who pursues something that is lost is himself lost. What greater perdition, what greater blindness, what greater misfortune can there be than to set a high value on something that is nothing?
To return then to what I was saying. I was highly delighted when I looked on that soul, and I think the Lord wanted me to have a clear view of the treasures He had laid up in it When I was aware of the favour that He had done me in making me the instrument of this, I realized how little I had deserved it. But I valued the favours which the Lord had bestowed on him even more highly than before, and felt as deeply indebted for them as if they had been given to me. I gave great praise to the Lord when I saw that His Majesty was fulfilling my desires and had heard my prayer that he should rouse persons like this. Then my soul could no longer contain so much joy; it went out of itself, and lost itself for its own greater gain. Its meditation was broken; when I heard that divine language in which the Holy Spirit seemed to be speaking, I fell into a deep rapture, which lasted for a short time only but caused me almost to lose my senses. I saw Christ in all His majesty and glory, and He showed His great delight in all that was taking place. He told me of it too, and wished me clearly to realize that He was always present at such conversations and was greatly pleased when people found their delight in talking of Him.
Another time, when I was far away from this place, I saw him being carried up to the angels in great glory. From this vision I understood that his soul was making great progress; and so it was. For a cruel slander against his honour had been spread by someone to whom he had done a great service, and whose reputation and soul he had saved. He had endured this accusation most cheerfully, and had done other things most serviceable to God, undergoing other persecutions as well. I do not think it right to say anything more about this just now, but your Reverence knows about it all and, if you think fit, it can all be set down later for the glory of the Lord. All the prophecies which I have mentioned concerning this house, and all those concerning it and other matters of which I shall speak later, have been fulfilled, some of them three years after Our Lord revealed them to me, and others after shorter or longer intervals. I always told them to my confessor and to my friend the widow, with whom I was allowed to discuss them, as I have said. She repeated them, as I have learnt, to other persons, who will know that I am not lying. May God never permit me to speak anything but the whole truth on any subject, especially on one as serious as this.
Once when I was very grieved at the sudden death of one of my brothers-in-law,1 who had omitted to make a final confession, I was told that my sister would die in the same way, and that I must go to her and make her prepare for death. I told my confessor about this, but he would not let me go. Then I was told the same thing several times more and, when I informed him of this, he gave me permission, since no harm could come of it. She lived in a village, and I went there without saying why, but enlightened her as much as I could on all matters. I got her to make very frequent confessions, and always to think of her soul’s profit. She was a very good woman, and did what I said. Some four or five years after she had begun this practice, and had come to keep a strict watch on her conscience, she died with nobody near her and no opportunity of making a confession. It was a good thing that, following her new custom, she had made a confession only a week before; it made me very happy to know that when I heard of her death.
She was only a short time in purgatory. I do not think that it can have been as much as a week later that the Lord appeared to me, just as I had finished taking Communion, and was pleased to let me see her as He raised her to glory. During all those-years, between His first speaking to me and my sister’s death, neither my companion nor I forgot this prophecy; and when she died, my companion2 came to me, astonished at the way in which it had been fulfilled. God be praised for ever, who takes such care of souls that they may not be lost!