positions is there a sphere in which spiritual influences—whether by a clergyman or a Biblewoman or a gentle friend—may so infuse peace and confidence into a sick man as to promote even in the body a renewal, a conversion, or an economy of energy which should make for recovery? Certainly; and here, I think, is the restricted, if still important, sphere of religion as medical.
To consider this aspect of the matter we must go back for a moment to certain principles. From the letters of Teresa—that noble saint—we may learn much of the greatest value to us in the present inquiry. We may learn from her to distrust the 'ecstasies and melancholies' which—as she said—were 'the perils of conventual life'; she roundly denounced all that 'letting one's self go, outside the control of reason,' which has its origin in 'sick brains.'
'If I were with you,' she wrote to a certain Prioress, 'you would not have so many extraordinary experiences.' Now Teresa not only apprehended, but thoroughly understood, that the highest spiritual life depends upon the best bodily health. She tells us that she supported her own vigils with plenty of meat (viande) and sleep. High and holy thought demands the greatest effort
