essed by Catherine of Siena (1347-1388), a clever
politician, who was in correspondence with the leading statesmen of her
time, found vent in passages like the following:

"I desire, then, that you withdraw into the open side of the Son of God,
who is a bottle so full of perfume that even the things which are sinful
become fragrant. There the bride reclines on a bed of fire and blood.
There the secret of the heart of the Son of God is revealed and made
manifest. Oh! Thou overflowing cup, refreshing and intoxicating every
loving and yearning heart." "I long to behold the body of my Lord!" And
straightway the bridegroom appeared to her, opened his side and said to
her: "Now drink as much of my blood as thou desirest."

But the saint who enjoyed the greatest fame--partly on account of her
frequent portrayal by the plastic arts--was doubtless St. Teresa
(Teresia de Jesus), a Spanish nun (1515-1582). During childhood and
early youth she suffered from serious illnesses, and on one occasion was
even believed to be dead. "Before I felt the presence of God," she says
in her biography, "I experienced for some time a very delightful
sensation, a sensation which I believe one is partly able to produce at
will (!), a pleasure which is neither quite sensuous, nor quite
spiritual, but which comes from God." She describes in her "Life" four
stages of prayer, which gradually lead the soul to God: "There is no joy
to be compared with the joy which the Lord giveth to the soul in its
exile. So great is this delight that frequently it seems that the least
thing would make it forsake the body for ever." "When the soul seeks God
in this way," the saint feels with supreme delight her strength ebbing
away and a trance stealing over her until, devoid of breath and all
physical strength she can only move her hand with great pain. The
delights experienced by her are described in great detail and very
sensuous language; hysterical conditions, such as painful convulsions,
and hallucinations, are represented as religious phenomena. "It is
dreadful what one has to suffer from confessors who do not understand
these things," she says in one of her writings with deep regret.

St. Teresa relates her life with the well-known long-winded
self-complacency of the hysterical subject. She frequently had visions
of Jesus, and again and again she emphasised the beauty of his hands.
"Standing by my side, he said to me: 'I have come to thee, my daughter,
I am her