But whatever mistakes monasticism made, however repulsive the religious life of the Middle Ages,—­in fact, all its social life,—­still it must be admitted that the aim of the time was high.  Men and women were enslaved by superstitions, but they were not Pagan.  Our own age is, in some respects, more Pagan than were the darkest times of mediaeval violence and priestly despotism, since we are reviving the very things against which Christianity protested as dangerous and false,—­the pomps, the banquets, the ornaments, the arts of the old Pagan world.

Now, all this is preliminary to what I have to say of Saint Theresa.  We cannot do justice to this remarkable woman without considering the sentiments of her day, and those circumstances that controlled her.  We cannot properly estimate her piety—­that for which she was made a saint in the Roman calendar—­without being reminded of the different estimate which Paganism and Christianity placed upon the soul, and consequently the superior condition of women in our modern times.  Nor must we treat lightly or sneeringly that institution which was certainly one of the steps by which women rose in the scale both of religious and social progress.  For several ages nuns were the only charitable women, except queens and princesses, of whom we have record.  But they were drawn to their calm retreats, not merely to serve God more effectually, nor merely to perform deeds of charity, but to study.  As we have elsewhere said, the convents in those days were schools no less than asylums and hospitals, and were especially valued for female education.  However, in these retreats religion especially became a passion.  There was a fervor in it which in our times is unknown.  It was not a matter of opinion, but of faith.  In these times there may be more wisdom, but in the Middle Ages there was more zeal and more unselfishness and more intensity,—­all which is illustrated by the sainted woman I propose to speak of.

Saint Theresa was born at Avila, in Castile, in the year 1515, at the close of the Middle Ages; but she really belonged to the Middle Ages, since all the habits, customs, and opinions of Spain at that time were mediaeval.  The Reformation never gained a foothold in Spain.  None of its doctrines penetrated that country, still less modified or changed its religious customs, institutions, or opinions.  And hence Saint Theresa virtually belonged to the age of Bernard, and Anselm, and Elizabeth of Hungary.  She was of a good family as much distinguished for virtues as for birth.  Both her father and mother were very religious and studious, reading good books, and practising the virtues which Catholicism ever enjoined,—­alms-giving to the poor, and kindness to the sick and infirm,—­truthful, chaste, temperate, and God-fearing.  They had twelve children, all good, though Theresa seems to have been the favorite, from her natural sprightliness and enthusiasm.  Among the favorite books of the Middle Ages were the