adventure. At this juncture, her
father, fearing that this excitement might be harmful, tried to divert
her mind by putting in her way books of pious origin, wherein the
various trials and tribulations of the Christian martyrs were described
in a most graphic and realistic style. Soon Teresa was even more
interested in these stories than in those of a more worldly character,
and the glories of martyrdom, which were described as leading to a
direct enjoyment of heavenly bliss without any purgatorial delay, made
such a profound impression upon her youthful mind that she resolved at
the early age of seven to start out in search of a martyr's crown.
Prevailing upon her little brother to accompany her in this quest for
celestial happiness, she started out for the country of the Moors,
deeming that the surest way to attain the desired goal. While this
childish enthusiasm was nipped in the bud by the timely intervention of
an uncle, who met the two pilgrims trudging along the highway, the idea
lost none of its fascination for a time; and the two children
immediately began to play at being hermits in their father's garden,
and made donation to all the beggars in the neighborhood of whatever
they could find to give away, depriving themselves of many customary
pleasures to satisfy their pious zeal. With the lapse of time, however,
this morbid sentiment seemed to disappear, and Teresa was much like any
other girl in her enjoyment of the innocent pleasures of life. Avila, in
Old Castile, was her home, and there she was sent to an Augustinian
convent to complete her education, but without any idea that she would
eventually adopt a religious life for herself. This convent, indeed,
seemed to make little impression upon her, and it was only after a
chance visit made to an uncle who was about to enter a monastery, and
who entreated her to withdraw from the vanities of the world, that she
seems to have gone back with undimmed ardor to her childish notions. In
spite of her father's opposition, Teresa, in her eighteenth year, left
home one morning and went to install herself at the Carmelite convent of
the Incarnation, which was situated in the outskirts of her native city.
The lax discipline and somewhat worldly tone of the place proved a great
surprise to her, as she had imagined that the odor of sanctity must be
all-pervasive in a religious house; but she evidently accommodated
herself to the conditions as she found them, for she made no