ST. CATHERINE'S CONVENT, EDINBURGH
FATHER SNOW'S wish that Teresa should be left as far as possible unnoticed was loyally obeyed, but many memories of her still linger in the convent. As to her outward conduct and appearance, the testimony of the community coincides with that of all her friends. Despite her sufferings she was always gay and bright. One of the sisters describes her as the "merriest little soul" she ever knew. She had a special affection for the lay sisters who worked so hard and uncomplainingly, and said she was sure they were very pleasing to our Lord. She was delighted when Rev. Mother allowed her to go into recreation with them, and would tell them stories and do all she could to amuse them. One of her favourite entertainments was to dance to the tune of "Paddy on the Green"! She always dressed in black, and usually wore a white scarf round her throat. As will be readily believed, she cared nothing for looks, and one sister declares that she was for ever running after her "putting her straight". She never tired of doing little acts of kindness, and if, as sometimes happened, her anxiety to help merely resulted in her being snubbed for her pains, she was in no way put out, but, on the contrary, seemed rather pleased. The sisters used often to call upon her in any little difficulty, such as the loss of keys or if a drawer could not be opened. She would tell them to try first all natural means, but if these failed anything could be done by the sign of the Cross.
On one occasion Rev. Mother wished to provide lunch for some visitors who had called unexpectedly. It was Friday and she sent out for some salmon, which was long in coming and had been on the fire only a few minutes when the meal was called for, as the guests had to catch a train. The fish was quite uncooked, and the sister in despair turned to Teresa. She quietly made the sign of the cross over the pot and told sister to serve up the fish. The guests, when asked, declared it to be excellent.
She was very kind to the novices and younger sisters, some of whom nicknamed her "Johnnie Love" on account of her fondness for a small boy who came a great deal to the convent, and whom she always addressed in this way. She would save up cakes and dainties for him and one day when she was pressing these things on him, he was overheard to say pathetically: "Eh, Miss, I canna eat ony mair!"
She used to foretell the war and would look with pity on the boys in school, many of whom she said would die in battle, and she described how the fighting would take place in the air and under the sea. The listeners would laugh at her, for aeroplanes and submarines had not then been invented. She seemed often to know of the deaths of people at a distance, and used sometimes to tell how she had been present with them though without leaving the convent. She did not always know who they were, but could often say if they were priests. She told a friend that she had been with Dr. Roskell, the Bishop who was so devoted to her as a child, when he died at Whitwell in 1883, and she once wrote to Father Snow:
 "Rev. Fr. Pitter SJ has gone to reap the reward of his labours for souls. He was a real man of God and did much for souls R.I.P... He died at about a quarter to six on Wednesday morning. I knew when he died though I was not certain it was him. I told dear Sister Catherine when she came into my cell at five minutes past six, and we both said a prayer for him. Two other holy persons died that same morning, but I don't know who they were."
Several cases of bilocation on Teresa's part are attested by the sisters while she was at the convent. One day two of them went to visit a poor woman who lived quite alone and they found her very ill. They asked how she had managed during the night with no one to help her. "Oh", she said, "that kind Miss Higginson was here and she boiled the kettle and made me comfortable." It was afterwards found that Teresa had never left her room.
The Devil, apparently, still came at times to torment her, but he seems to have had little power with her and no outward disturbance took place in the convent.
At Whitsuntide, 1888, she wrote to Father Snow:
 "Oh what delights the Holy Ghost breathes into the soul at these times, and do you know that when I feel the actual presence of the adorable Trinity within me, it seems as though all Their riches, love etc. were mine, as though I could hold out my hands and claim all the merits and perfections of our divine Lord and love Him with a love equal to His own, for I seem to possess His love etc. and offer it back again to Him, and oh what a bliss this is. Now if this is presumption or in any way not the thing, I am sure you will tell me, for I know how cunning is the Devil, yet he seems to me not to have much power here, I think rather he is filled with a great fear."
On the anniversary of her Mystical Marriage she was again transported with joy:
 "The feast of St. Raphael was a real feast for me, and all the week before the very thought of what took place on that day seemed to fill me with an indescribable joy. At times the flames in the centre of the soul seem to rush upwards, and the divine wisdom absorbs and enlightens, though so sweetly and calmly (not with pain as it used to do), and teaches her (the soul) or at least she sees that her very desires are deeds, I mean are made substantial in Him whom she loves and desires with so great a desire — I really don't know how to express better what I mean, and to you who are so well versed in knowledge on this subject it may seem foolish. I think I have said before that I had no desire, I willed only what He wished but I have a real yearning for eternal union mingled with the fear of losing Him by my misery and sins, for there is always danger whilst there is life. I think it is the light and knowledge He gives me that makes me see this truth so clearly (though without anxiety or uneasiness). I feel that you will know what I mean. And although I know at all times that I am really and substantially united with the thrice adorable Trinity, yet I do not at all times feel absorbed into that inner chamber of the Divinity. Perhaps this is on account of my many sins and that I may be able to serve Him in His creatures — yet how constantly the flame burns and how sweetly, oh life-giving fire, dost thou kindle — thou art as oil penetrating my whole being. The blessed Trinity now teaches me by showing me everything in Themselves, not as sometimes I used to see God in all things — now I see all things in God, and the love and wisdom which works all things for His greater glory and the salvation of souls."
She closes with a little good advice to her two devoted friends:
"I hope rev. E. Powell and yourself are in better spirits. I think you are both too desponding. Try and have more confidence, looking more to Him and less at your own misery. It is your very helplessness that should give you such trust."
A little later she wrote again:
 "I don't think that if the whole world calumniated me now that it would trouble me in the least. I think I have been well taught that either praise or ill-will of the world is but an empty bubble and not worth thinking of. I am glad that I felt it at first, but I do trust it was but a stepping-stone and not a stumbling-block, and as you say our dear Lord in the least of His favours gave me more than all the reputation I have lost or may lose. So long as I am His, what doth it profit me? Nay, I could thank Him for that if I had nothing else, for I feel it makes me more like unto Himself, and I don't expect it to die out and for my own sake I have no care in the matter.
"I would be most grateful dear rev. Father if you would tell me the dangers common to the present state of my soul so that I may not be surprised by the wicked One or my own vile self."
To this Father Snow replied:
"MY DEAR CHILD,
"You are now in a state more free from dangers than any you have passed through. The Devil is afraid to approach you and our dear Lord will protect you against your own weakness.
"I think I told you before that though our Lord is united to your soul in a special way, He is not united to the faculties of your soul or mind, and therefore you should often ask Him (as no doubt you do) to guide you in all your words and actions, that you may only speak and act as He would have you to do. I don't know that you have any particular need of this advice, but I know you like me to say anything that might be of service to you."
In February, 1889, there was a profession of one of the nuns at St. Catherine's Convent and Teresa wrote to Father Powell:
 "I am sorry I was not able to fulfil my promise of writing last Sunday. I was too ill and have been very unwell all week. I am hardly able to write now but will do my best.
"I wrote to rev. A. Snow on Friday telling him all the news so he will be able to tell you.
"The profession came off on Saturday, and oh what a joy saturated me through and through. I felt over again all that I experienced on the 24th Oct. 1887. I renewed all my poor little promises and vows, and our dear Lord made me experience all His love, beauty, wisdom, fortitude, made me feel so thoroughly one with Him — my own wretchedness changed as it were by His sweet touch into His very Divinity. This may seem wrong to say, but it expresses what I really feel. Of course I do not mean that the substance of my being is changed into the substance of God — no that could not be — but that, by virtue of our close union, all His merits are mine, so that I love Him with the love of the Holy Spirit and praise and thank Him with a thanksgiving worthy of His infinite Majesty. He has set a lamp in my soul which enlightens and consumes it, and He is the light and the fire. He arises and breathes upon my poor soul, and light and new life are given unto me. He shows me the wedding-garment with which He has clothed me, and the rich diamonds and precious gifts with which He has decorated me, and the rubies are the red drops of His most precious Blood, and the brightness and beauty are His, and I sing in my inmost soul, 'What shall I render to the Lord for all He has done for me?' and I find a recompense and an offering worthy of Himself in Himself. Oh my Love, my Dove, my Beautiful One, my Spouse and my only Treasure, my God and my All.
"I think that the words of St. Paul are the most expressive when he said, 'I live now not I but Christ liveth in me.' and I think when he spoke of seeing 'in my flesh I shall see God', he referred to this state of the soul (as well as to the glorious resurrection).
"I think rev. A. Snow said to me some time since that I was not wrong in thus expressing myself, but you might show him this note and correct anything that is not right."
Teresa destroyed nearly all her correspondence, so very few of Father Snow's letters to her have been preserved, but there is one written about this time when the dread of the coming Lent was again overwhelming her.
"FEB. 14 1889.
"MY DEAR CHILD,
"May our dear Lord be praised for ever for all that He has done for you and the great love He has shown you.
"I sympathise with you very much on the suffering which is before you, but at the same time I rejoice with you. He has detached your heart from every created thing and drawn you to Himself and made you feel and know that all your happiness is in Him, and therefore you can have only one real suffering which is for Him to hide Himself from you for a time. Truly no words can express how great this suffering is. But then the greater the suffering the more it is to His glory and the good of souls He suffered so much to redeem, and He will reward you by giving you a still greater knowledge and love of Himself, for being infinite He can always communicate Himself more and more to His creatures. You know these things better than I can tell you, for He Himself has taught them to you. Have courage then my dear child, for He will support you and cannot forsake you.
"I did not think of your being ill or I would not have worried you about writing. If your sickness comes from the cold weather, you must really get yourself proper warm clothing. Rev. Mother would look after you in this respect, if she did not think she was interfering with what I look on as my department."
Teresa did not write again till after Easter, when she sent the following letter, surely unsurpassed as a proof of her heroic charity and love of souls:
"AMDG ET IN HON BVM ET ST. J
"ST. CATHERINE'S CONVENT
"LAURISTON GARDENS. 1889.
 "DEAR REV. FATHER,
"I am sure you will praise and thank our dear Lord for all He has done for me in allowing such a vile wretch to participate so much in the fearful sufferings of His dread Passion. All that I had experienced in other years put together seemed to me as nothing compared to what I endured this year and the time too was prolonged. I never was really well since last Lent, but in October I began to experience fearful agonies in soul and mind, far worse than I had been able to endure before, and they increased in severity each week. At times an awful despair would seize upon me and a crushing power seemed to press me down on every side I felt the arm of God's Justice heavy upon me and the breath of His indignation and wrath consuming me as a fire. Oh what a terror too was upon me? for who can withstand an angry God? I was weighed down and hemmed in with sins of every description, and I felt an allseeing Eye gazing and searching me through and through and I cannot tell you how terrible was my plight. I felt abandoned by God for He completely hid Himself. Then my bodily sufferings seemed to me at times to be unbearable. The week of the holy Winding Sheet I felt as though all my bones were crushed in and a fearful retching and vomiting of blood followed and lasted for some weeks, and though I felt giving way on every side, still I begged for more if it would only cause one soul to make a single act of love more.
"There was a poor woman, Jessie King, in prison for the murder of nine children and she was most impenitent, and I begged of our dear Lord, for the glory of His Name and for the sake of the agony His holy Soul had endured for her, to give her contrition and repentance and I would willingly suffer more if possible and would take the punishment of her sins if He would only grant my prayer, and I told Him I would not leave Him till He heard me and granted her mercy — which He did. May He be blessed for ever and ever.
"Then a gentleman in Ireland I heard of who was giving great scandal and I offered myself in a special manner for him, and our dear Lord more than granted what I asked, as you saw from the letter I gave you to read. Then there were missions and very many souls needed help whom our dear Lord mercifully granted me to aid. L.D.S.
"During the whole of paschal tide I have been very unwell, but oh how sweet to be able to suffer a little for Him who has done so much for us, and all the sufferings we could endure for a lifetime are as nothing compared to one instant of that joy with which He saturates us through and through. He has several times lately allowed me to partake of the most precious Blood, I mean to draw It from his sacred Side, and this has given me untold delight and new strength. Oh wondrous love of the Sacred Heart, who can form words to tell of its depths, experience alone can teach. Then our dear Lord has allowed me to hear the prayers of condolence and consolation to His holy Soul ascend to Him from the earth, and I have seen rich graces and blessings untold descend upon those who practise the Devotion, and He is well pleased with them. Oh if we could make all minds see and know Him as He is, then would all hearts love Him and all tongues praise Him. Pray hard, dear rev. Father for your obedient and devoted child
"in the sacred Head and loving Heart,
"Enfant de Marie."
The spread of the Devotion was ever the thought nearest to her heart and she recurs to it again and again in her letters.
 "We have had exposition from 7.30 a.m. till 6.30 this evening. I have been with Him nearly all day, so I have had plenty of time to make many petitions. I do thirst for a due celebration of the feast of the s. Head (and reparation to the holy Soul) by a special feast for this end. Oh how I wish for all minds to see and know Him as He is and all hearts to love Him as He deserves, then would all nations serve Him as they ought and bless and thank Him with a praise worthy of His great majesty. But I suppose we must wait a little while longer."
Much as our Lord urged her to further effort, He never seemed to make clear to her, either her own share in the matter, nor when the Devotion would be established, as she wrote to Father Powell:
 "Our dear Lord has not revealed to me the time when the devotion will be acknowledged by the church, nor when dear England will be brought back to the light of the true faith and the love of its saving doctrines. Yet each day and every moment of each day I offer my poor worthless self a living sacrifice in the hands of each priest that offers holy Mass, for the conversion of sinners, the holy souls, the welfare of the church and in thanksgiving and atonement, and I long for His kingdom to come, His holy Will to be done on earth as it is in heaven. Oh there is nothing like suffering for teaching us the wisdom, the love, and the infinite power and beauty of our dear good God, and in proportion as we love so the more we burn with love and zeal for the souls made to His Image and likeness and redeemed by the precious Blood of His coeternal Son. And I ask Mary to remember her Dower."
For her own part Teresa tried to inflame all those with whom she came in contact with devotion to the sacred Head. Father Humphrey S.J., who was then in Edinburgh, took it up most enthusiastically and preached and even wrote about it. So did Father Parker and many other priests. A special shrine was erected in the convent chapel, for which she collected from her friends. The little book of prayers which had been printed with the approval of the Bishop of Liverpool was translated into several languages and spread far and wide. An attempt was even made to bring it to the notice of Pope Leo 13th, but whether this was actually done is not recorded. Happy and grateful as Teresa was for this, the public manifestation for which she looked was still delayed, and so she prayed and waited on, content to do her humble share and trust to our Lord Himself for the fulfilment of His Will in His own time and His own way.
In August, 1890, she again wrote to Father Snow of the condition of her soul:
 "DEAR REV. FATHER,
"It is now some time since I wrote to you about my soul or the way in which the dear good God teaches me or deals with me, and really these ways appear to me so subtle that I cannot in any way express them. All words are but so many meaningless sounds and do not in any way express the things of God. How then must I speak when I would speak of God Himself?
"It appears to me that God, having taken up His abode in the soul, reigns in her, rules and enlightens her, even as the sun shining in great brightness and splendour shows forth clearly those things that were hidden before and draws up moisture from the earth and is reflected in clear water; so as naturally, without any strain to the soul, God penetrates its depths with His rays, teaching her greater depths of His infinite perfections and drawing forth acts of thanksgiving, praise and admiration, adoration and glory to Him who alone is worthy of her love and esteem and gratitude. I cannot say that our dear Lord has taught me anything fresh, for all truths seem to me to be forever old and yet forever new, and the soul has not to go out of herself as it were to reach God or to learn the things He would make known to her. There does not even seem to be any surprise at the great wonders that she beholds in God. All is quietness and peace and calmness even in beholding the judgments of the allpure and Allpowerful God, and the predominant passion of the soul is that of praise saying 'Thank God' in sorrow, sickness or joy. It seems really to matter very little to her now whether she is in sickness or health, prosperity or adversity; His Will is the ruling star and the anchor that keeps all things still and steady. If she can work a little for His glory or if it pleases Him to let her feel that she cannot do anything, it is all one, for she knows His love, His knowledge and His care, and she wants for nothing and her confidence is so great that the smallest little thing she asks for, and every thing she wants she just tells Him that she would like it or is without it and then thanks Him for it, for she is quite certain of obtaining it.
"Our dear Lord often reveals to the soul that certain persons are dying and need help, or glory that is given to Him by the devotion to His sacred Head and holy Soul, and makes her feel how agreeable this is in His sight and how fast it is spreading and how firmly it is taking root.
"I will be better able to make you understand when I have the pleasure of seeing you."
The next few years passed uneventfully. In October of both 1891 and 1892 Teresa spent some weeks with her sisters at Neston, when she had the great consolation of seeing Father Snow and many other friends, and also of revisiting the humble room at Clitheroe where heaven had come on earth to her. She stayed too at St. Patrick's, Manchester, of which Canon Musseley was now rector, and where she spent many happy hours with her dear Margaret, his housekeeper. Margaret's fellow-servant, Mary Jane, well recalls the radiant atmosphere that seemed to fill the house whenever Teresa came, and she tells how Teresa loved to take her share in all the work, usually singing some hymn to her guardian Angel — she had a very sweet voice — as she came and went, helping with the cooking or the washing up. Sometimes the good Canon would himself open the door and look in upon them and then slip away without a word. He seldom spoke of Teresa, but he had a deep veneration for her, and he told the sisters of the Presentation convent that one day, when passing her room, he saw her, raised in ecstasy, receive the sacred Host.
When staying at St. Patrick's, Teresa usually occupied an upstairs room, from the window of which she could look out upon the church, and so keep her night watches with our Lord. There was a little girl in the house, Kitty Deady, now a nun, whom Canon Musseley had brought over from Ireland and who had been adopted by Margaret. She remembers well the wonderful impression made upon her by Teresa when she first saw her as a little child, how she longed to be like her, feeling it must be lovely to be so good! Margaret told her afterwards that she had been with a saint and that she must never speak of anything she saw or heard. The child faithfully obeyed, but she loved to sit with Teresa, who would tell her sometimes about heavenly things and sometimes about the little children she used to teach. Teresa never looked sad or worried but seemed always happy and content, and yet, in spite of her gentle kindness, Kitty felt that her dark, penetrating eyes could pierce her through, and she was conscious of a feeling of deep awe in her presence and a sense of her own unworthiness. When staying at the rectory Teresa used to rise at 5.30 in the winter and at 5 in the summer. She was in church by six and remained there till 9. Then Margaret would give her a small cup of tea and the thinnest wafer of bread and butter. Often she took nothing else all day. When Kitty came in from school at 12.30, Teresa was generally busy helping Margaret to cook the dinner, and the little girl would be sure to find some special dish waiting for herself. They often went to benediction at the church of the Holy Name and Teresa always joined in the singing, her sweet voice thrilling the child through and through and making her feel God was very near. Kitty also tells how Teresa once bilocated to help her friend. There was a large clergy luncheon at St. Patrick's and Margaret was cooking a huge joint when she fell and burnt herself severely. For several weeks she lay in bed in great pain. One evening she said to Kitty, who came into her room: "I hope you are making Teresa comfortable." Kitty, knowing that Teresa was at Neston, thought Margaret must be wandering, but Margaret, seeing this, said, "No, my dear, I am quite clear in my head. Teresa has been with me. She put her hand on my head and blessed me" (as she always loved Teresa to do). Some time later, when Teresa did actually come over from Neston to see her, Margaret asked if it were not true that she had been there on such a day. Teresa merely answered with a smile.
Margaret outlived her friend by many years, and a priest, once finding her sitting by the fire all alone, asked how she got through the long days now that she was no longer able to work. The old face lit up and, pointing to Teresa's photograph upon the mantelpiece, she said, "I speak to her and she speaks to me." Two days later she died, a most beautiful and holy death, and who can doubt that Teresa was there to help her at the last?
In June, 1893, Father Snow lost his mother and Teresa wrote to condole with him:
 "May the adorable Will of God be done in us and by us in all things and at all times.
"I cannot tell you how deeply I feel for you in your sorrow, nor how sincerely I condole with you on the death of your dear good Mother R.I.P. and yet I cannot but rejoice and thank God that another soul is saved and another voice added to praise Him for eternity. For she has fought the good fight and has gone before Him with her hands filled with good works and clothed with His gifts and graces, her lips anointed and her soul saturated with His adorable Blood, and although I will ever pray for her, yet I always will say after the prayers for the dead the divine praises, for blessed in the sight of God is such a death. And what a joyous meeting it would be of your Papa and brother, how they would welcome and greet her and sing new songs of praise to the thrice holy Trinity for all They have done for her, and I am sure we will have a powerful advocate in heaven in her. I would have written before, but I knew you would sooner I wrote to priests to get the holy Sacrifice offered for her repose, so I left you till tonight."
When Dr. O'Reilly, the Bishop of Liverpool, who had dealt so severely with her, fell ill, she prayed much for him, and on hearing of the death of "our dear good Bishop", she wrote to Father Powell:
 "What a saintly man he has been and what a glorious work he has done in the Liverpool diocese since he came to it, and I am sure he will pray that someone may take his place who will be suited to fill it. I am saying the hymns of the Holy Ghost, the third glorious mystery of the rosary, and little prayers to s. Head, and St Joseph, foster Father of Jesus Christ, Spouse of the blessed Virgin and Patron of the universal Church, pray for us."
At Whitsuntide Mary Jane came to Edinburgh on a visit. She was speaking of the Bishop's death and wondering as to his possible successor, and Teresa looked up and said simply: "It will be Dr. Whiteside", and a few months later he was in fact elected. She wrote to Father Snow:
 "I have been making a tridium of thanksgiving for the new Bishop and I am sure he will have the protection of our holy and Immaculate Mother Mary on whose Assumption he was consecrated. I feel sure he will be a jewel to the Church and a star in the diocese, a real father to his priests, although so young, and a friend and shepherd to his people. We are all in retreat. It commenced on the 15th instead of the 16th. Pray for each and all that we may be truly generous and ask that we may now at last begin to do something for our divine Spouse. I really cannot bear the thought of appearing before Him empty-handed. His excessive goodness to me makes me quite ashamed of myself."
Truly her humility seemed to increase day by day. With all her deep knowledge and experience in spiritual affairs, we find her consulting her confessor quite simply on the matter of religious vows.
JAN. 1ST 1895.
 In the holy Name of Jesus and Mary I write to enquire about the difference of vows, those of religious and those taken by myself private. If I understand properly, I believe that those taken by nuns etc. give far greater glory to our dear good God than private can ever do. Is that a fact? Last midsummer rev. W. Humphrey S.J. spoke at some length concerning them and I could not see him to ask any questions. Then Fr. Benson S. J. at this tridium said that the religious state, or those who took religious vows, were in the most perfect state that could be attained in this life, and though many people had taken private vows there was no comparison between them, one was so much more perfect and rendered so much more glory to God, yet it was not God's holy Will for every one to embrace the religious state. Then I wondered if it was the adorable Will of God for me, for you know God's greater glory is the one desire of my whole being — and to do His holy Will.
"I am sure you will tell me exactly what you think. I am not in any way disturbed about this, I mean it does not ruffle that deep and beautiful peace with which God fills my soul to overflow, yet what would give to Him one degree of accidental glory more I feel I should strive after if such were His holy Will in my regard. I have thought for the last seven years and over that our union was so complete — I was so closely united to Him and He absorbed me so entirely, that it was the most perfect union that could exist in this world, a union so wonderful that one would marvel how it could be without the destruction of one party or the other (of course I know the eternal God could never be destroyed). I mean it seems as though the personality of each alone remained distinct, at least so it appears to me, and if I do not explain myself properly, you I feel will understand what I mean."
Father Snow replied as follows:
MY DEAR CHILD,
"You must distinguish in your mind between a perfect state of life and a state of perfection. The religious is the most perfect state of life but anyone can with God's grace reach a state of perfection in any state of life. And we have also to distinguish between what is best and more perfect in itself and what is best and more perfect with regard to each individual. Now no one can possibly be in a more perfect state than to fulfil in everything the Will of God and have one's will made one with the Will of God. And he gives most glory to God who most perfectly fulfils His Will. So if one person in obedience to God's Will takes no vows and if another in obedience to God's Will takes private vows and another in obedience to God's Will takes vows in religion, all three cannot do anything more perfect or give more glory to God in that particular matter. The father of St. Lewis Bertrand after the death of his first wife had an ardent desire to become a Carthusian in order to devote the remainder of his life to prayer and penance. On his way to the Carthusian monastery to ask for the habit, St. Bruno and St. Vincent Ferrar appeared to him and assured him that it was not God's Will that he should become a monk but that he was to marry a second time and serve God in the world. Whereupon he married again and became the father of a great saint. And he could not have done anything more perfect or given more glory to God. And though it is true to say that the state of life of a Carthusian is a more perfect state than that of a married man in the world, yet there is no reason why a man like the father of St. Lewis might not reach a much higher state of perfection and union with God than many a Carthusian.
"The application of all this to yourself is simple enough, and I hardly need make it. The grace of God urged you to take private vows even before you properly knew the meaning of them, and the same grace urged you to renew them at your first Communion and many times afterwards, and as far as I know you have never had any indication whatever that it is God's Will that you should take vows in religion.
"You may therefore conclude that you are perfectly doing His Will in not taking vows in religion — and giving Him more glory thereby. He has been pleased to make use of you for His glory first in one place and then in another, and it may be His Will to do so again in the future And therefore you would be doing wrong to tie yourself to any particular place unless you had strong indications that it was God's Will you should do so.
"I hope this makes clear what you wanted to know. If not I will write again if you will let me know exactly what you want.
"With love to my sisters and kind remembrances to all,
"Yours affectionately in Christ,
This explanation fully satisfied Teresa, who wrote:
 "Very many thanks for your beautiful letter and for the clear manner in which you explained about the vows. I am quite satisfied that you know exactly what I meant and I thoroughly understand your explanation and am most grateful to you for all your care and trouble for my soul's welfare.
"Sometime since I wrote you that I had on several occasions taken something to drink (milk water and tea) and, as you never made any reference to it, I begin to think that perhaps you did not get the letter. I do not do so regularly but sometimes I get such a burning thirst that I feel quite exhausted and I felt that I had a real inclination for it so I took it, humbling myself before the adorable Trinity and tried to make a very devout spiritual Communion before I took it. I am not telling you this as if I thought there was any wrong or imperfection in doing so — only that I think you should know, and I wondered why you did not mention it as I asked you would it not be better to tell dear rev. Mother at once for fear she should tell anyone that I did not and had not taken anything for years. And besides I think too it would be acting a lie not to tell her, though perhaps you have already done so...
"I heard that some of the African chiefs had brought their whole tribe to the priests for instruction and baptism, and I fancied that perhaps they may be some of those whom it has pleased our dear good God that I should instruct, and perhaps the missionaries may find that they have a pretty fair knowledge of Christian doctrine though mixed up with their pagan practices."
In October 1895 Teresa went for a short time to Selkirk, to Father Forbes Leith S.J. who was in difficulty owing to his inability to find a certificated teacher for his school, and in January she was again at Neston. A remark in one of her letters shows her readiness to enter into the little events of daily life and the pleasures of her friends. Her sister took her to some entertainment "to see Constantinople and have a sail" and she advises Father Snow, if he goes to Liverpool, to see it as it is very pretty and she is sure he would enjoy it!