85. To The Monk Walter.
The Letters of St. Anselm consolingly so as to lessen my grief which no one who could console me wants to do so and no one who wants to, can.
But may he who can do whatever he wills so console me that no one be saddened. May he make no one sad so that he may preserve love for you everywhere unimpaired.
Amen. c. 1077/78.
NOTES 1. Gilbert Crispin was a very close friend of Anselm's. He had become a monk at Bee before Anselm's arrival. He is fifty-ninth in the Bee profession-roll. Lanfranc called him to Canterbury to be a member of his household. In 1085 he was made abbot of Westminster (Ep 103), where he ruled till his death on 6 December 1117. See Heads 77, and A.J. Robinson, Gilbert Crispin, Abbot of Westminster, A Study of the Abbey under Norman Rule (Cambridge, 1911). For the spiritual relationship between Anselm and Gilbert, see R.W. Southern, 'St Anselm and Gilbert Crispin, Abbot of Westminster', MARS 3 (1954) 78-115;
Southern, Anselm, 88-91, 205-209, 246-247 and passim.
2. Ps 76:3.
3. Possibly Archbishop Lanfranc.
85. TO THE MONK WALTER.
Anselm thanks Walter, a monk of Saint Wandrille, for his fraternal love and refers him to Abbot Gerbert for an answer to his question.
TO HIS LORD WALTER,1 LOVING FREELY, DESERVEDLY LOVED, NOT
AS A STRANGER BUT AS A CLOSE FRIEND: BROTHER ANSELM SENDS
WHAT IS HIS.
IF MY HEART WERE HARDER than stone and colder than ice, then it would still have to grow warm at the fire of your love and be softened by the oil of your sweet address. Your letter, so full of the wholesome advice by which your sweet love and beloved prudence deigned to make yourself known to my poverty is aglow with such ardor of charity, scented with such fragrance of kindness and merry with such
The Letters of St. Anselm
sweetness that my mind will not rest until my eyes have seen his face, my ears have heard his voice and my soul has enjoyed the presence of him who, without knowing me, obscure as I am, freely took me on with such love. By letter he strove to exhort me, though absent, so helpfully towards perfection; he advised me so prudently to preserve my good qualities—if any I have. O, if only the reputation were so true, which the report of men, heedlessly speaking about something they do not know, has told you about me, how necessary to me is your admonition, which proceeds from the abundance of your good will and your wise understand ing of human weakness! Blessed in all things be God, who enriched you with such charity, inspired you with such charitable solicitude. May he see my desire so that some day I may so deserve the enjoyment of a life pleasing to God in your company that we may not be separated by any change of circumstances as long as we live.
As to the solution of the question you ask me to write about, you should know that I have neither the leisure nor the ability to consider myself capable of it. You have with you our lord and father, the reverend Abbot Gerbert, who can better discuss with you in person the questions you wrote about, and the others you mentioned, for which you wanted to have recourse to my poverty, than I can compe tently answer either by speaking or writing. I pray you therefore, lest by despising my foolishness you refuse to have regard for our charity. Charity should be loved more than knowledge. For knowledge puffs up but charity edifies.2
Moreover, since all useful knowledge depends on charityon it indeed depend all the law and the prophets3—and since where two or three are gathered together in the name of Truth, it says that it is in the midst of them,41 trust in the promise of Truth that, if we come together in its name with the af fection of charity, the knowledge of Truth will be with us.
If I knew you wanted to visit us I would give you a definite time when this would be convenient lest, coming at a time