39. TO LANFRANC,: Archbishop Of Canterbury.
The Letters of St. Anselm
NOTES 1. Arnulf/Ernulf of Saint Simphorien of Beauvais came to Christ Church, Canterbury, in 1073. There he succeeded Henry as prior in 1096; in 1107 he resigned this office to become abbot of Peterborough, which he left in 1114 to become bishop of Rochester, where he died in 1124; see Heads, 33, and Epp 64, 74.
39. TO LANFRANC,
ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.
Anselm apologizes to Archbishop Lanfranc for the infrequency of his letters. He informs him about the good progress of young Lanfranc, Wido, and Osbem, and tells him that Lanfranc and Osbem suffer from illnesses for which he seeks the advice of Albert, the physician.
TO HIS LORD AND MOST LONGED-FOR FATHER, ARCHBISHOP
LANFRANC, TO BE REVERED WITH LOVE AND LOVED WITH
REVERENCE THROUGHOUT THE UNIVERSAL MOTHER1: HIS BROTHER
ANSELM, WISHING THAT HE MAY SHINE FOR A LONG TIME
THROUGH SANCTITY IN THE PRESENT LIFE AND REJOICE ETERNALLY
IN BLISS IN THE LIFE TO COME.
IF I WERE ABLE TO DICTATE and write as easily as I can speak, an abundance of my letters would never be lacking him to whom my heart would so often speak if only there were no dearth of bearers. But there are so many things— trivial though they be—which hinder me from dictating.
And this—the fact that there are so many of them—now hinders me while dictating, from recounting them in full.
For this reason I beg your paternal highness not to be an gry at me because the letters of your humble servant reach you only rarely. For although the pen blushes with rust whenever the hand is still, heaven forfend that when the tongue is silent the soul should grow cold through inertia.
Indeed, passing over these things for the present, I will tell you what my conscience attests to about that very beloved and very loving friend of mine, your nephew,2
The Letters of St. Anselm about whose way of life I know you always want to receive prompt information. Indeed he is so on his guard against those things which he should avoid that he justifiably ap pears to none of us to be censurable; for he is so eager for humble kindness and kind humility, and he so seeks peace and silence and prayer that he is deservedly lovable to every one. Hence he daily makes me, who is happy with him, surely even happier, and I—not to speak of the general af fection within the community—have him, whom I love for your merit as well as his, as a friend.
But there is something which, although I truly believe that divine providence mercifully inflicts on him, yet I cannot see without a nagging charitable compassion. For divine chastisement has daily afflicted him in a fatherly manner for many months with such a headache that his enjoyable company has sometimes been cut off from the whole com munity and his intention has been completely turned away from reading or any serious meditation. I advise you of this for this reason, that I may not be accused before you of si lence in this matter and that you may come to the help of this beloved friend of mine, if you can, through the as sistance of Dom Albert. So that this doctor may learn to recognize the type of disease through some of its symptoms: his temples always seem to be throbbing, his brow feels heavy, especially when he is lying down. The greater any light and noise are, the more they bother him. Often, es pecially after meals, his whole face gets very red and at the same time not only his face but his whole body gets hot.3
Gentle obedience and humility at hard work so commend Dom Wido,4 whom we have assigned to teaching the boys, that we, who have such a fellow, and you, through whom we have him, can be equally proud.
Your Dom Osbern,5 in fact, daily develops admirably, both in his fervor for prayer seasoned with a sense of joy and in his progress in knowledge through perseverance in study, coolness of thinking, and a tenacious memory. Not only does your fatherly love, in which we rejoice in brotherly
The Letters of St. Anselm
fashion, join itself equally to our own for all this, but we are delighted at and cemented together by such a delight of speechless love at his outstanding merits that we could no longer be separated without some rending of our souls and shattering of our hearts. But when this takes place at your command recalling him, the gaping rent of my wound will remain, whereas he will be consoled by his reunion with somebody greater than he now endures.
Indeed there is something which compels me to suffer in compassion with him. For the increase of that certain ill ness, which he says is known to you, so frequently weighs him down that he is at times led to death's door. First of all a sudden chill violently afflicts his whole head and then his heart and whole body; and soon his heart, pounding uncontrollably, fails along with all the senses and powers of his body—just what happens to those who have lost blood. After he appears to have revived from this fainting fit, he immediately burns with heat throughout his whole body, as if becoming feverish. A headache also follows this and a great discomfort, as if he had to vomit. And often, especially when he sings, he is so tormented by discom fort in his head that the place where he is seems to be diz zily whirling round him.6 Since I neither know him better, nor can love him better than you love him, I will refrain from pleading with your paternity for his sake.
I have heard that Saint Dunstan drew up a 'Rule of Monastic Life'. If therefore this is the case, I would very much like to see the famous Life and Institutes of so great a father.7 c. 1073-1077.
NOTES 1. See Epp 25, 32.
2. See Epp 25, 30, 31.
3. These symptoms seem to indicate high blood pressure.
4. Wido, see Ep 31.