134. To Ermengard.
The Letters of St. Anselm friend, because in any case it is not advisable and not ex pedient to lose or to diminish eternal goods or even to defer them for the sake of temporal goods. And if divine grace should deign to inspire you according to my desire—O that my eyes may see this!—and you do not disdain my help and advice in doing it, then my soul, already rushing towards your embrace sings to you: my heart is ready, my friend, my heart is ready.2
Farewell, dearest friend, farewell; always recall to mind how insecure and short is human life and how infinite are the good or the evil which follow. c. 1079/92.
NOTES 1. See Ep 99.
2. Cf. Ps 56:8, 107:2.
134. TO ERMENGARD.
Anselm beseeches Lady Ermengard to permit her husband to become a monk.
TO ERMENGARD, HIS BELOVED LADY IN GOD: BROTHER ANSELM,
ABBOT OF BEC, SENDS GREETINGS AND FAITHFUL PRAYERS.
ALTHOUGH I DO NOT KNOW YOU by sight, yet I be long to an order which ought to wish well and give salu tary advice to all men, and nobody should be surprised if I put you in mind of the things which I hear your rever ence is in need of.
I have heard, dearest lady, what is taking place between your husband and you, since your nobility does not suffer this to remain secret but carries news of it far and wide.
In this case I first of all give thanks to God, from whom all good comes and who gave your husband such constancy to despise temporal glory for the eternal and allowed you to bear so bravely numerous tribulations for the sake of
The Letters of St. Anselm
preserving chastity; therefore he, by despising the world, does not love himself more than you, nor is anything in this world dearer to you than your husband. Surely in this both of you make yourselves loved by God and by men of good will, and both of you are worthy of praise. Thus in such a great and true mutual affection as yours, it can well be believed that you love not so much each other's bodies as each other's souls. By no care or mutual love can you snatch your bodies from temporal death; whereas, if you know how to rule your love, you can acquire eternal life for your souls.
What is it, then, reverend lady, lady of proven chastity, what is it that forces you to hinder your husband from seek ing perfectly the salvation of his soul which you love no less than your own? Far be it from anyone to imagine that you might be doing this for the sake of the vile pleasures of the flesh, which you have so despised since he left you that you have suffered many tribulations and refused many persuasions rather than accept another husband when you could not have your own. If you hold his soul back from progress towards his salvation for the sake of the glory and temporal privileges which you love and hope to be able to keep through him, then how do you love his soul to whose certain and eternal privileges you prefer your doubtful, vile and transitory ones? And for what reason can you demand of him that he consider the eternal goods of his soul of secondary importance to the temporal goods of your body, if you prefer the goods of your body to the goods of his soul? Mark this, therefore, dearest lady, mark this, strong, wise woman, mark this: if you do this you will not be governing your love well, nor will you be loving properly the husband who loves you. If you force him to give up the counsel of his soul for the sake of your will, and if death then overtakes either you or him, or any other disaster af flicts you, as often happens, will he be any use to you and will you not have harmed him? In any case, if you harm his soul, you harm your own.
The Letters of St. Anselm O, how much better, reverend lady, how much more praiseworthily would you show you love your husband if you do not merely allow, but also advise and help him to try, with God's help, to perfect what with God's inspira tion he began; if, loving his good, you make it your own, if you believe most firmly that the more bravely you renounce human help for the love of God and neighbor, the more closely and securely you commit yourself to di vine protection. May your prudent braveness and brave pru dence therefore trust in God. If your husband were dead, you would have to bear his absence unwillingly, without any benefit to him or to yourself; so, too, now, as long as he lives, tolerate [his absence] freely for the sake of great recompense to him and to you. Permit him to do freely what he desires, that you may share the reward with him. For if God takes care of widows who are not widows for his sake, how much more richly will he cherish her whom he knows to be freely a widow for the sake of his love. If it should come about—which perhaps will not happen—that you lose your worldly dignity, do not grieve, because you will receive an even better one in heaven. Surely, what is greatly despised by better and wiser people is not greatly to be lamented if it be lost.
I should like to advise you further but I dare not; I am not, however, afraid to pray. May almighty and merciful
God so grant to you contempt for the world, as he granted it to your husband, that you may be equal to your husband in the heavenly kingdom, O sister and lady, beloved in God.1 c. 1079/92.
NOTES 1. Anselm here reveals the strength of his conviction that the monastic life is practically the only way to salvation. For him there is no ques tion of the love that Ermengard might have for her husband; his desire to become a monk is all important and she is obliged to grant it to him. For his arguments against loving God in the world, see Ep 121.
The Letters of St. Anselm
135. FROM WILLIAM.
William begs Anselm to pray for his brother Geoffrey.
TO ANSELM HIS LORD AND MOST EXCELLENT OF ALL HIS FRIENDS:
ONE OF HIS SERVANTS AND THE VERY LEAST OF THE SERVANTS OF
GOD, WILLIAM, WISHING HIM THE JOY OF DESIRED SALVATION.
IT IS NOT FOR US to extol the merits of holy men, or to sing their praises, but God, who is glorified in his saints and to whom every heart is open, knows how great the de votion of your humility is towards him and with what af fection of soul I love your goodness. Not undeservedly. I am not unmindful of the great zeal with which you would embrace my goodness if there were any in me, however slight. But since I distrust the value of my merits—and in fact the prayer of an unclean man is unclean—as if throw ing myself at your knees and feet, I beseech you as sub missively as I can that, if you have ever wanted to cheer me, pray more fervently for my brother Geoffrey.
For I know that someday he will obtain the remission of his sins by God's mercy if you cry out to God for him from the bottom of your heart. Nor do I say this groundlessly.
But meanwhile, let what I have just said be enough for you until we meet again. I refrain from saying more about this and other things I would like to tell you because there is no hurry about them. But since you see me miserably ship wrecked in the wreck of my brother, uphold the endangered man on the raft of your prayers so that, thanks to your prayers, we who have long borne the shipwreck brought on by our sins may one day be worthy of entering the har bor of salvation.
Before 1093.