Chapter XIX

How souls should pray if they cannot make use of the understanding in prayer.¹

1. Of books on meditation. 2. Method in prayer. 3. Difficulties of mental prayer. 4. The 'living water' of the Samaritan. 5. Comparison of the water and the live-fire. 6. An ardent love for God subjects all things under our feet. 7. The heavenly water cools our desires. 8. And purifies our souls. 9. Meditation and contemplation. 10. This water slakes our thirst for God. 11. Moderation to be kept in this thirst. 12. The consequences of over-indulging it and their remedies. 13. Subterfuges of Satan. 14. The living water is intended for every one.

1. It is a long time since I wrote the last pages and I have had no opportunity of resuming the book, so that unless I read over the latter part I cannot remember what I said. However, to save time, I must go straight on, without either order or connection. For methodical minds and for souls who practise prayer and who are able to keep their attention fixed,² there are so many suitable books³ written by good authors that it would be a mistake to come to me for advice on the subject. There are volumes containing meditations⁴ for every day of the week on the mysteries of our Lord's life and sacred Passion, on the last judgment, hell, our own nothingness, the mercies God has granted us, and our many debts to Him.⁵ These books contain excellent teaching and a good method for the beginning and conclusion of mental prayer.

2. One who is accustomed to this kind of prayer requires no further instruction: our Lord will thus bring her to the port of light; such a good beginning is sure to end well. Those who can walk in this way enjoy peace and security, for when the thoughts are kept under control the journey becomes easy. But with God's permission I wish to offer some help to those who cannot practise such prayer. Even if I fail, at least you will have learnt that many others suffer in the same way as yourselves, so that you need not be distressed about it. When you begin to practise prayer I will give you some advice about this matter.

3. Some minds are as disorderly as unbroken horses — no one can quiet them: they rush about, hither and thither, and are never at rest. And although the rider, if adroit, may not always be in danger of his life, yet he is at times, Even if he does not run the risk of being killed, he risks looking foolish and has to keep perpetually on his guard. I pity souls to whom this is natural or to whom God allows it to happen. Perhaps no vital injury may be done, yet there is a risk of making mistakes, and the soul is in a continual state of agitation and trouble. Either this is natural to certain persons or God permits it. I pity them deeply. They are like a man parched with thirst, who sees water in the far distance, and, while trying to get to it, is hindered by other people, both at starting, when he has got half-way, and again just before the end of his journey. They resemble those souls who, after a great effort and immense trouble, have defeated their first enemies yet are beaten by the second adversaries, and would rather die of thirst than drink of water which costs them so dear. They lack strength, their courage fails them: though sometimes they overcome their second set of opponents, yet they succumb before the third.

4. Perhaps they were not two steps off the living fountain of water of which our Lord spoke to the Samaritan woman,⁶ promising that whoever drank of it should never thirst again.⁷ How true is this which was told us by Truth Himself! For the soul thirsts no more for the things of this world, although its craving for the next life exceeds any natural thirst that can be imagined. Yet how the heart pines for this thirst, realising its priceless value! This drought brings its own remedy with it: it allays all desire of created things and satisfies the soul. When it has been satiated by God, one of the greatest graces He can bestow on the spirit is to leave it with this thirst, which, after drinking, increases the longing to partake again and again of this water.⁸

5. As far as I can remember, water has three properties — there must be many more, but these suit my purpose. One property is that it chills other things. However warm any one may be, he is cooled by plunging into a river, and water extinguishes the fiercest fire except wild-fire, which it only kindles the more. How strange it is that water should only increase this fire, which is fierce, raging, and subject to none of the elements, so that its opposite, instead of putting it out, only adds fuel to its flames: I could explain a great deal by this if only I understood philosophy. If I knew the properties of things I should be able to make my meaning clear: as it is, though I am amused and interested by them I do not know how to express myself — perhaps I do not even understand the matter. When God gives you this water, sisters, this comparison will please you and you will understand, as those do who drink of it, how a genuine love of God that is powerful and freed from earthly dross rises above mortal things and is sovereign over all the elements of this world. Though water may flow from the earth, there is no fear of its quenching the fire of divine love, over which it has no empire. Although they are the antidotes of one another, its flames are beyond the influence of water and are all-powerful. Do not be surprised then, sisters, at the stress I have laid in this book on your gaining liberty of spirit.

6. Is it a small thing that an insignificant little nun of St. Joseph's should obtain the mastery over the globe and all the elements? What wonder that the saints, with the help of God, did what they pleased with them? Fire and water obeyed St. Martin,⁹ the birds and fish were subject to St. Francis,¹⁰ and many other saints possessed this power over created things which they had evidently gained by striving to despise the world and by subjecting themselves, with their whole hearts, to the Lord of creation.¹¹ They did their utmost, therefore they may almost seem to have claimed this power as a right, for, as the Psalmist says: 'Thou hast subjected all things under his feet.'¹² Do you think this applies to every one? I see some men 'under the feet' of the things of this world. I knew a gentleman who was literally kicked to death in a struggle with his horses — you see how miserably he was 'subject' to them! Things occur every day that witness to the truth of what I say. Indeed, the Psalmist could not speak untruth, being guided by the Holy Ghost. However I may be mistaken in his meaning, or misquote the text as saying that perfect souls are rulers of the whole earth. The water I spoke of has an earthly source, and has no influence over the fire of the love of God, whose flames rise high above it and spring from nothing so base. There are fires of a tepid love for God, which any passing event may extinguish, but although a tempest rose against it fervent charity would not be destroyed, but would vanquish its enemy: if water should rain from heaven,¹³ instead of putting out this fire, it would revive the flames. These two elements are not opposed to one another, but spring from the same origin. There is no fear of their harming one another — they only increase each other's effects. The water of genuine tears, shed during real prayer, is a gift from the King of heaven: it feeds the flames and keeps them alight, while the fire helps to cool the water.

7. Ah, how delightful and wonderful a thing is this fire! When it is combined with the rain from heaven from whence flow the tears I spoke of, it chills and even freezes all worldly affections. These waters are given us; not obtained by any effort of our own: thus they leave no warmth that might attract us in anything of this world, unless it is something tending to feed this fire which by its nature is insatiate and would, if possible, envelop the whole world in its flames.

8. A second property of water is the cleansing of what is foul. What would become of mankind with no water to wash in? This living, celestial water is limpid, undisturbed, and unmixed with any earthly matter, for it has come straight from heaven. The soul which has once drunk of it is cleansed and left pure and free from all sins.¹⁴ As I said elsewhere,¹⁵ we are powerless to obtain this water for ourselves, because perfect contemplation and divine union are high and supernatural graces given by God to the soul that it may be washed and left stainless and purified from the mire contracted by its sins. The water of sensible devotion¹⁶ obtained by the use of the intellect, has run its course over the earth and is not imbibed directly from the source itself; therefore whatever benefit it confers, it always contains a certain amount of mud, and is never so pure and limpid as the other. I do not call prayer made by thinking over a subject 'living water,' for I believe that, in spite of all our efforts, owing partly to physical causes and partly to human nature, it always retains something from which we should like it to be free.

9. I will explain myself more clearly. While meditating on the world and the contempt it deserves on account of its short duration, almost without knowing it we find ourselves thinking about the worldly matters we used to care for. Although we try to check these thoughts, they distract us all the more by the remembrance of what happened and speculations about what will come of it, what will be the consequences, what we did, and what we shall do. By pondering over the means of freeing ourselves from faults, we sometimes run into fresh danger. Not that we ought to omit such meditation, but we must be cautious and watchful. In contemplation our Lord Himself takes care of us, for He will not entrust us with our own interests. Our souls are so dear to Him that He prevents their running into danger while He is bestowing this grace on them. He at once calls them to His side, and in a single instant shows them more truths and gives them a clearer knowledge of the nothingness of all things than we could gain for ourselves in many years. For our sight is not clear — our eyes are blinded by the dust on our path; but here, we know not how, our Lord brings us at once to the end of the journey.

10. The third property of water is to satisfy and quench thirst. Thirst seems to me to be a desire of something which we need so greatly that we should die were we altogether deprived of it. Water is a strange thing! we die for want of it, yet too much of it kills us — see how many men it has drowned! O Lord! is any one plunged so deeply into this living water as to die of it? Could such a thing happen? Yes. This love and desire of God may increase until nature can bear it no longer and men have perished from this cause. I know some one, to whose aid God came promptly with such abundance of this living water that she was almost drawn out of herself in raptures.¹⁷ Her thirst and growing desire were such that she realised it was quite possible to die of such longing were it not remedied. I say 'drawn out of herself' as it were, because her soul found rest in ecstasy. Such a soul appears overcome by its loathing for this world, but it revives in God: His Majesty thus enables it to enjoy this grace which, if left to itself, it could not have borne without loss of life. Blessed be He Who in the Gospel invites us to drink of this water.¹⁸ Most certainly, our Lord and our supreme Good possesses no imperfection, and all He does is for our welfare; therefore, however abundant this water may be, it is never in excess for there is nothing superfluous in His gifts. If He gives a deep draught He makes the soul capable of drinking it, just as a glass-maker moulds his vessels the right size to contain the fluid he means to pour into them. It is always wrong of us to wish for this water: it is solely through the grace of God that we reap any benefit from such a desire. We are indiscreet and think that, as this pain is sweet and enjoyable, we cannot have too much of it. We covet it beyond all measure, and do all we can to augment our longings, so that sometimes people die of such emotions. What a blessed death! Yet perhaps, by living, one might have helped others to die with the desire of such a death. I believe the devil has a hand in this: he knows what harm such people do him by living, and incites them to perform imprudent penances so as to destroy their health, which would be no small gain to him.

11. I strongly advise any one who feels this excessive thirst to be very cautious, for this temptation is sure to occur. Although possibly it may not kill her, yet her health may be impaired; besides, however unwillingly, she will show her feelings by exterior signs which ought by all means to be avoided. Sometimes all our efforts to hide our sentiments are fruitless. Let us be careful not to yield to any strong impulse towards fomenting this longing, but gently put it aside by turning our thoughts to some other subject.¹⁹ Occasionally nature may have as much to do with these feelings as divine love: some characters are eager about everything, both good and bad. I do not consider such persons very mortified, yet mortification is always good.

12. It seems foolish to hinder so good a thing, yet it is really wise conduct. I do not mean that these longings should be stifled, but moderated, which may be done by encouraging some other desire that would be quite as meritorious. I will explain my meaning by an example — a man has a vehement longing to be with God and to be delivered from 'this prison',²⁰ as St. Paul styled it. No small mortification will be needed to restrain this most delicious pain; indeed, it cannot always be done. But he may be so overcome by it as almost to lose his reason; I saw this happen to some one a short time ago. Although naturally impulsive, she was so used to breaking her own will that, from what I witnessed on other occasions, I thought she had completely overcome it, yet once I saw her almost driven mad by this pain and by her violent efforts to overcome her feelings. In such an extreme case, in my opinion humility should make us fear, for we ought not to believe that our charity is fervent enough to bring us to such a state: I think there would be no harm in our changing the bent of our wishes, although sometimes this is impossible. We may consider that by living longer²¹ we might serve God more, and might be able to enlighten some soul that would otherwise be lost; and that if we did more for God we should deserve to enjoy Him more. Besides, we ought to feel alarm at thinking how little we have done for our Creator. These are fitting consolations for this great distress. Thus we shall assuage our pain and gain great merit, since for the sake of serving the God we long for so keenly we are willing to suffer and to bear our cross. It is like comforting some one who is in great sorrow by bidding him to be patient and to resign himself into the hands of God, that the divine will may be done in him: this resignation of ourselves is always the safest course to take.

13. But what if the devil were in any way concerned in these vehement desires? This is probable, as in a case mentioned by Cassian, I believe, of a very ascetic hermit whom the evil one persuaded to throw himself down a well in order to see God sooner.²² I do not think the hermit's life can have been either humble or holy, or our Lord, Who is faithful, would never have allowed him to be so utterly blinded. Most certainly, if the impulse had been divine, it would have done the man no harm. Celestial inspirations infallibly bring with them prudence, light, and moderation, but this deadly enemy of ours seeks to injure us in every way — since he is wary, let us be the same. Moderation is often useful in similar cases, such as shortening our time for prayer, however much we may be enjoying it, if it tells on our health or begins to make our head ache, for discretion is always necessary.

14. Why do you think, my daughters, that before the battle has begun, I have told you of the end of the conflict and shown you its reward by describing the benefits of drinking of this fountain of living water? I did it to prevent your being dismayed at the hardships and difficulties of the way, that you may be courageous and not grow weary, lest, when you have reached the spring and only have to stoop to drink of it, you may draw back and forfeit all this grace, imagining that you lack the strength to gain it and that it is not meant for you. Remember, our Lord invited 'any man': He is truth itself; His word cannot be doubted. If all had not been included He would not have addressed everybody, nor would He have said: 'I will give you to drink'. He might have said: 'Let all men come, for they will lose nothing by it, and I will give to drink to those I think fit for it'. But as He said unconditionally: 'If any man thirst let him come to Me', I feel sure that, unless they stop half-way, none will fail to drink of this living water. May our Lord, Who has promised to grant it us, give us grace to seek it as we ought, for His own sake.