Introduction xix

Introduction xix

INTRODUCTION

1. SALIENT FACTs IN THE LiFR OF ST. BERNARD

tT. Bernard: was born at Fontaines-lés-Dijon in the year 1090 and died at Clairvaux on August 20th, 1153.

Tescelin, his father, was of the ancient stock of Chevaliers de Chatillon who held feudal lordship over territory in Burgundy and Champagne.

He was said to have been a religious man of unblemished character.

His mother, Aleth, was related to the Dukes of Burgundy.

There is reason to suppose that her father was Bernard of Montbard.

Bernard was one of seven children all dedicated to God at birth by their mother.

If we are to believe the pious traditions of hagiographers his birth was presaged and accompanied by signs of his future greatness and sanctity.

Whether these are the shadows which coming events are supposed to cast before them, or whether they are the prophecies of coming greatness imagined after the event, we have no means of ascertaining.

All the usual legends surround his early childhood.

Although he was believed to have been mature in virtues from earliest infancy we are assured that he was a child in worldly affairs—a not surprising quality in a child.

If the lineaments of the child may be divined from the character of the grown man, it may be supposed that there was little of the prig in young Bernard.

He received the education usual for children of his position and age.

Asa youth he is said to have been highly intelligent, good looking, and distinguished for his urbanity.

All of which we can well believe.

He did not escape the usual difficulties and temptations of adolescence, nor is there any reason why he should have done.

But we can believe that he passed the crisis unscathed.

Berengarius of Poitiers, a disciple of Abelard, asserted that in his youth Bernard had written ribald rhymes.

This was hotly denied by his disciples and afterwards withdrawn by the author.

But there does not seem to have been any a priori reason why it should not have been true.

For such a young man as Bernard any distinguished career would have been open in either Church or State.

For a time he seemed to hesitate, but in the year 1111 he finally decided to enter the monastic way of life, not in any great monastery but in the poor and obscure house of Citeaux.

This house had been founded some years previously by Robert of Molesme in order to follow in all simplicity the Rule of "St. Benedict without any of the elaborations which had been accumulated down the centuries by contemporary monasticism.

For some years it had been languishing for want of recruits until its future was assured by the arrival of Bernard, and thirty companions whom he x1x

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had induced to follow him, in the year 1112.

When they entered, St. Stephen Harding, the Englishman, was abbot.

In the way that Bernard induced so many of his noble companions to undertake with him such a hard and rough manner of life we encounter for the first time an indication of that extraordinary power of moving others which was to be characteristic of him all through his life.

On the other hand we must not exaggerate the contrast between the manner of life to which these young noblemen would have been accustomed and the rough living they found at Citeaux.

The life of even the nobility in those days would seem rough by modern standards.

Three years after his entering at Citeaux Bernard was sent by Stephen to make a new foundation at Clairvaux.

He was formally installed in his office as abbot of the new foundation by the Bishop of Ch4lons-sur-Marne, William of Champeaux, who immediately became one of Bernard's firmest friends.

This is significant for it was undoubtedly William who first spread the fame of Bernard throughout France, while his influence on Bernard's intellectual outlook may well have been responsible for the strong line he took in combating Abelard in after years.

From this moment Bernard began reluctantly to enter the field of great affairs.

Bishops and great ecclesiastics began to insist on having his advice and help in their troubles.

His decision was required and followed in all difficulties.

We begin to find letters from him addressed to the King of France and the Pope.

From the first he was fearless in his condemnations of the folly and vice of those in high positions.

No one, no matter how exalted, was exempt from the sometimes very scathing rebukes of the oung Abbot of Clairvaux.

Times have changed.

Such freedom of anguage is not permitted nowadays.

In St. Bernard's time it was permitted but naturally it gave rise to ill feeling and jealousy.

It was not long before men were asking themselves who this truculent young abbot could be, and why he did not stay in his monastery.

There is a letter of his to Cardinal Haimeric in which he answers just this accusation.

There is little about it of conventional humility.

Of course he will stay in his monastery, he says.

There is nothing he would like better.

But the cardinal must not think that the troubles of the Church will cease just because he has ceased to give them tongue.

In fact there will be no improvement until the Roman Curia ceases to heed tales told behind people's backs.

But in view of these accusations which were levelled against the saint, at any rate at the beginning of his career, and which may raise a question in the minds of modern readers, it were well to remember that although Bernard seems to have been torn between love for the solitude of his monastery, a sense also of responsibility to his monks, and a burning desire to reform the current abuses in the Church, yet he never concerned himself with public affairs save under the compulsion of a strong sense of duty to

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xxi the Church and under obedience to his superiors.

His letters are full of complaints that he is always being torn away from his monastery by the commands of his superiors, and we find him repeatedly begging to be left in peace.

On one occasion he firmly refuses the request of the Pope himself that he should come to Rome.

When in the year 1130 the Roman cardinals surpassed themselves by electing two popes on the same day and within a few hours of each other, St. Bernard entered for the first time on the field of world affairs.

He could not hesitate.

The whole Church was in danger.

Without delay he threw his weight on the side of Innocent II against Peter Leonis who had been elected anti-pope under the name of Anacletus, a few hours after Innocent.

Anacletus seems to have been a Jew by birth and to have obtained his election by intimidation and bribery.

Even Peter the Venerable has no good word to say for him.

For a time the fate of the two popes swung in the balance, but it was Bernard who turned the scales in favour of Innocent.

He stormed through Europe persuading, encouraging, and threatening.

It was he who alone had the courage to withstand the Emperor Lothair when he attempted to make his support of Innocent conditional on being granted the right of investiture.

He fearlessly rebuked the Emperor before all the assembled bishops, whereupon the Emperor quailed, and gave way.

When he was not actually on the road, letters to every person of note or influence in the West were pouring from his pen.

And not only was he writing letters, he was also receiving them.

Almost anyone in difficulties seemed to think that he could appeal to the Abbot of Clairvaux.

Sandwiched between letters to popes and kings one finds other letters to poor and insignificant people consoling them in their small troubles.

He himself tells us that he made a point of answering every letter, even those from the most insignificant people.

He kept more than one secretary at work, and he is said to have been able to dictate more than one letter at a time.

At the same time there was his responsibility to his own community.

Every day Clairvaux was growing with fresh recruits, and almost every year it was sending out fresh foundations.

During the troubled years of the schism nearly twenty foundations were made from Clairvaux alone, carrying everywhere with them the influence of their abbot and monastery, and providing Bernard with an army of supporters for his tasks of reform.

All the world was becoming Cistercian.

Undoubtedly he had the gift of delegating his authority, yet when we consider that besides the -care he had for his monks, besides his concern in great affairs, besides his vast correspondence, and his many theological and mystical writings, he was tortured by ill-health, some distressing gastric malady which made it difficult for him to retain his food, his vitality and energy seem to surpass human strength, as undoubtedly they did.

No one could

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have achieved all that Bernard did, under the conditions that he did it, with only his unaided human strength.

The final entry of Bernard on to the stage of world affairs was his preaching of the Second Crusade.

This was a task imposed upon him by the Cistercian Pope, Eugenius III.

As everyone knows, the Crusade ended in disaster.

This was not Bernard's fault but of course everyone blamed him:

' iniquissima haec bellorum conditio est: prospera omnes sibi vindicant, adversa uni imputantur,' as Tacitus has observed.

And so like many other great and holy men Bernard died under a cloud of disappointment and failure.

2. ST. BERNARD IN HIS LETTERS

Every age has its great men, but seldom does any age have a man great enough to transcend all the limitations of his age. Beyond any doubt St. Bernard was such a man.

His doctrine, his writings, his example are as fresh aid valid today as they were eight hundred years ago. During his life he bestrode the world like a colossus, the counsellor and mentor of kings, popes, philosophers, and ordinary men and women; and he has not ceased in our time to dominate the consciousness of Christians.

His massive figure still looms across our horizons, his winning personality still enchants the hearts of men.

With all his old persuasiveness he still moves men to follow the hard and narrow way he trod himself, still attracts men to the Order which he so powerfully propagated in his lifetime.

Nothing that we can learn about such a man, no small detail, is too trivial to be without significance and interest.

For this purpose we have the early biographies of his friends and disciples, and a knowledge of them is indispensable for anyone who would study his life.

But their value is limited just because they were so near to their subject, too near to him fully to understand his significance.

Great men like great mountains need to be seen from a distance.

Furthermore these biographies were submitted for revision to the authorities of the Order, and we can be sure that anything considered to be not tending to edification would have been excluded.

Fortunately the saint has provided us in his letters with a living picture of himself.

The letters of St. Bernard far exceed in number the letters of any of his contemporaries, and they are addressed to men and women of all classes in every quarter of the West.

For this very reason they are a recognized source for the history of his time.

'But valuable historical documents as the letters of St. Bernard are, they are no less valuable for the picture they give us of the man, and such aman! A painting, did we have one, would be less significant than they are, for it would portray only, as it were frozen and in still life, the external expression of a passing moment.

But here, in these letters, we have an animated and nioving picture, reflecting without

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xxi pose or self-consciousness every passing mood and feeling of the writer.

But, it must be admitted, this picture does not easily reveal itself.

It is buried in a mass of four hundred and more letters, some of them dull, all of them in an idiom not easily understood or appreciated by the modern mind.

Yet even the most desiccated theologian and historian would find himself amply repaid for a close study of these letters, for the doctrine as well as the actions of St. Bernard are so highly coloured by his personality that they may hardly be understood without some knowledge of his character.

And when at last we have broken through the crust of antique phraseology and out-of-date idiom, how living and how lovable is the picture we see, the friend we meet!

Bernard has lost none of his old power of making friends.

Here is no plaster saint, here no disembodied spirit, but a man who, like ourselves, knew what it was to contend with ill-health, moods of depression, irritation with fools, awkward situations, and the petty persecutions of mean men with narrow horizons.

Perhaps we have here one reason why the letters of St. Bernard have not received all the attention they deserve, even in quarters where one might most expect it. We have all become so used to conventionalized cameo pictures of child-saints that we are apt to be a little shocked and, perhaps, a little scared when suddenly confronted with the gaunt figure of one who was a little over life size, of one who was a whole man just because he was a holy man.

Perhaps, such a thing would not be impossible, our taste has become a little vitiated by a too soft and sugary presentation of sanctity, in which nothing is allowed to offend our sense of propriety, or by traits too human to suggest that we too, were we generous, might be saints.

Perhaps we have forgotten that to be a man of God it is first necessary to be a man.

Certainly this is true of a monk, for no one, unless he be a man, could persevere for long in seeking God within the stark cloisters of a monastery, where the poetry and romance in which we try to shroud the life soon wear away to nothing at all.

In estimating the character of St. Bernard from his letters, we are at once confronted with a man of tempestuous emotions.

Ofa man who in one and the same letter will pass rapidly from expressions of white hot indignation to phrases indicating all the affection and anxiety of a friend.

Sometimes we find him very terrible indeed, as when he asks Henry, Archbishop of Sens, whether he imagines everyone to be as lacking in all sense of justice as he appears to be; or just irritated, as when a certain Canon Oger complained because he did not receive a prompt reply to a rather tiresome letter; or as when the Bishop of Rochester was objecting because Bernard had advised one of his men to make his studies in Paris.

At another time we see him worried and anxious, as when he writes to console one of his sons who had been sent out on a new foundation and was finding the difficulties

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too much for him and feeling homesick for Clairvaux; or as when he writes to comfort a poor mother whose only son has left her.

Quite often we find him in a playful and joking mood, as when he wrote to the Bishop of Noyon to say that he was sending him a youngster to eat his bread, so that he might find out how mean he was and added that, as he had lost his seal, the good bishop would have to recognize that the letter was from him by its style.

But sometimes his tempestuous temperament would land him in difficulties.

There is a letter to Peter the Venerable in which he excuses himself for the strong and bitter language he had used in a former letter on the grounds that his secretaries had misunderstood his meaning.

Most of us have found ourselves in similar situations, but not all of us have had secretaries to blame.

There is no doubt too that Bernard was apt to over-state his case at times, and he is not always free from parti pris.

Undoubtedly he was too severe on William of York.

He was too prone to listen to what other people said of third persons, especially if his informants were his dear Cistercian sons.

One feels that all his geese were swans and all his enemies the vilest of men.

They often were, but not always.

Yet all through these purely human frailties there shines his overpowering singleness of purpose, his absorbing love of God, and his often disconcerting and always. disarming humility.

He never ceases to love, even when he is lashing hardest.

If his opponent, if the victim of his wrath, shows the slightest indication of sorrow for his misdeeds, the merest shadow of right purpose, then at once all his anger melts into tender affection, like hoar-frost in the sun.

It is interesting to compare St. Bernard with another contemporary character, no less distinguished by birth, no less highly endowed by nature, Henry de Blois, Bishop of Winchester.

Like Bernard, Henry was cut on the grand scale.

Like him too there was nothing petty about Henry.

And he too was a counsellor of kings and moved in great affairs.

But Henry de Blois, for all his real greatness, is dead.

A figure of great interest and not unattractive, yet a figure of only historical significance.

A man of his times whose influence has passed with his times.

The difference between the two, between Bernard of Clairvaux and Henry de Blois, is the difference between a man. of God who fought valiantly and sometimes unwisely, but never for himself, and an ambitious, highly endowed statesman, who might perhaps have been great in any epoch, who was perhaps even a saintly man, but never a saint.

3. Lirerary STYLE OF ST. BERNARD IN HIS LETTERS Much has been written about the style of St. Bernard.

Undoubtedly he was an artist in words and sensitive to their value.

In one of his

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XXV letters we find him describing the care he took in all his literary compositions.

Yet his style is not without blemish and in his letters the blemishes are more apparent than in his more considered literary work.

Largely it was the taste of the times which was at fault, but no useful purpose is served by allowing our admiration for the man to blind us to the faults of his style. The most obvious characteristic of all his literary work is his constant quotation from the sacred Scriptures.

It is said that he knew them all by heart, and we can well believe it.

Quotation from the Scriptures is a characteristic of all the ecclesiastical literature of the time.

It was as fashionable to quote the Scriptures then as it was to quote the classics in the eighteenth century.

But Bernard carries it further than any of his contemporaries.

His quotations and allusions are both more spontaneous and more happy.

Many of his letters are little else than a brilliant and pointed pastiche of the Old and New Testaments.

But happy though most of his quotations and allusions are, there are occasions when they appear forced and in fact obscure the sense of what he is trying to say.

Alliteration is another literary foible of the age, and again Bernard carries it further than most.

Often he achieves striking effects by it, but sometimes he uses it at the cost of clarity.

Nor is he able to resist inverting his sentences.

A typical example is when he refers to his humble profession and then, immediately, to his professions of humility.

It would be quite impossible for him to speak of patient zeal without promptly mentioning zealous patience.

As soon as we meet a substantive with an adjective we know what to expect.

After a time this becomes rather wearisome.

It is a mistake to say, as has been said repeatedly, that Bernard was an artist in words and never wasted a word.

Certainly he was an artist in words, but equally certain is it that he wasted words.

In his letters, at any rate, he shows not the vaguest conception of classical economy, and sometimes his sense becomes obscured by mere verbiage.

But, when all is said, the literary faults of Bernard were the faults of contemporary taste, and in spite of them he remains an accomplished artist in words, head and shoulders, in this respect as in every other, above his contemporaries.

His turns of phrase are often exceedingly happy and defy translation: he can be colourful and vivid in a manner all his own.

He is at his best when he is angry.

Then words flow from his pen like thunderbolts and their effect, even at this distance of time, is very striking and moving. Often when he is writing to the Pope or some high ecclesiastic about the misbehaviour of some unfortunate cleric, he will suddenly break off the sentence and address himself to the culprit in person.

This is apt to be a disconcerting habit, but it is certainly effective.

Throughout all his letters, indeed all his writings, there is a wonderful sense of ease and spontaneity.

The art is always there, but nearly always it is well concealed.

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4. THE METHODS AND PRINCIPLES FOLLOWED IN TRANSLATING

THE LETTERS

It is admittedly an almost impossible task to translate poetry into a foreign language so as to lose nothing of the original.

" Poesie', writes Sir John Denham, ' is of so subtle a spirit, that in pouring out of one language into another, it will all evaporate.'

With prose the difficulty is not so great, but even here great prose must suffer something in the process of translation, except perhaps in the hands of a genius.

Only bishops, it has been said, profit from translation!

Unfortunately the prose of St. Bernard has a lyrical quality which has certainly defied the best endeavours of the present translator.

It was, I believe, Mr.

Belloc who said that a translator should ask himself not only what his author says, but also how a man living at the same time and writing in the same language as himself, would say it.

_I have tried to carry this principle a step further by asking myself not only how a man would say this or that were he living now, but how St. Bernard would say it were he still alive.

But in doing this I have at once been faced with the difficulty that St. Bernard could not be living now.

As well ask oneself how a man from another planet would behave in the streets of Paris or London.

The answer would be that he could not live because the climate would kill him.

The mentality of the age of St. Bernard is wholly different from that of our own, almost a different dimension.

Many of the saint's ideas cannot be translated into modern idiom because there is no modern idiom capable of expressing them.

Our modern age could no more produce a man with the mentality and outlook of St. Bernard then the counting house could produce a poet, or the laboratory a metaphysician.

It might be done, but it would be a freak case, and the man in question would have to forge himself an idiom other than that of the counting house or laboratory.

So in asking myself the question how St.

Bernard would say this or that were he living now, I have sometimes been forced to the conclusion not only that he would not say it, but even that he could not say it so as to be understood.

Fortunately it has only been very rarely that I have been faced with this total impasse, and when I have, all that I have been able to do is to give a rendering as near as possible to the original while remaining comprehensible to the average reader.

On every such occasion I have given the original Latin in a footnote.

But there have been many border-line cases when anything like a literal translation could only have been achieved at the cost of all the life and bloom of the original.

In such cases I have cast aside all attempt at being literal and aimed only at giving the sense of the original in a way that would read easily. With regard to the many alliterations, because they are so characteristic of Bernard's style I have tried to keep them when it could be done without impairing the sense.

The constant quotations from the sacred

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Xxvil Scriptures have proved another difficulty.

On the very rare occasions when they have seemed forced and to impair the sense, I have not hesitated to discard them.

But for far the larger part of them I have made use of Mer. Knox's translation.

There have, however, been occasions when the more literal version of the Douay has seemed preferable.

There have also been times when Bernard's verbal interpretation of some passage from the Scriptures has made the use of any accepted version impossible.

An obvious and all too frequent example is that vexed verse from the Vulgate Psalm: ' Funes ceciderunt mihi in preclaris'.

Mgr. Knox gives an excellent interpretation of this difficult verse, but as it bears little obvious relation to the original it is always useless for the purpose of translating St. Bernard's use of the text. The Douay gives another interpretation that approximates the original only in being equally unintelligible.

In this case, and in other similar ones, I have been forced to give a rendering of my own which, while it may not always approximate the original very closely, at any rate suits the interpretation put on each word by Bernard.

On yet other occasions I have used both the translation of Mgr. Knox and of the Douay with modifications which are not necessarily improvements but which serve to bring the quotation into line with the text.

Scriptural passages are enclosed within quotation marks in the letters.

Finally there is the very thorny problem of language.

There is something to be said for translating into a completely modern idiom and there is also something to be said for an archaic phraseology.

I have tried to avoid all risk of inappropriateness on the one hand and on the other anything that might savour of sham gothic, by steering a middle course.

I have tried to retain something of the atmosphere of the original by a slight archaism, while at the same time remaining perfectly intelligible to the modern reader.

I have also tried to avoid the rather turgid and lifeless effect of a too literal interpretation of the original, Whether or not in trying to preserve a middle course between an inappropriate modernity on the one hand and an artificial archaism on the other, I have merely succeeded in retaining the disadvantages of both with the advantages of neither, it is for the reader to judge.

5. THE ARRANGEMENT OF ST. BERNARD'S LETTERS

About the year 1145, Bernard's secretary, Geoffrey, published a collection containing between two and three hundred of his letters.

Since then the researches of Mabillon, Marténe, Durand, Migne, Kervyn de Lettenhove, Hiiffer, Leclercq, and Talbot have considerably augmented their number.

Even so there can be no doubt that we are far from possessing all the letters written by Bernard.

Hiiffer estimates the total number of letters written and received by Bernard at not less than a thousand.

A very moderate estimate in our opinion.

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After Mabillon had published his first edition containing four hundred and forty-four letters, Marténe and Durand published another thirtyfive, of which five had already been published by Mabillon, and eight were of doubtful authenticity.

Hiiffer added to the total by discovering another twenty, and Kervyn de Lettenhove augmented it yet further by the letters he discovered and published in the Bulletin de Académie royale de Belgique.

The discoveries of other scholars have already been mentioned and are all noted in their separate places in the body of this work.} As a general principle I have not translated the spurious or doubtful letters attributed to the saint.

Thus the letter numbered 460 in Migne, a long letter concerning the religious life, is clearly unauthentic and has not been translated.

Neither the style nor the matter is St. Bernard's.

Of the letters addressed to the saint, I have contented myself with giving a digest, except in certain cases of outstanding interest, and I have not, as a rule, translated the letters supposed to have been written by the saint, but under the names of others.

On the other hand I have been able to include some which have never before been translated and a few very recent discoveries which have not yet been published.

The order of the letters has proved a difficulty.

The early compilers of the letters paid no regard to chronological sequence, and the many attempts of more modern scholars to correct this have not met with any great success.

I have not attempted the task but, for the convenience of readers, I have grouped the letters in a rough chronological order according to the chief subjects but within the framework of the traditional order.

Thus all the letters concerning the schism, the foundation of Fountains Abbey, the disputed election of the Archbishop of York, and other outstanding events, have been grouped together roughly according to their dates.

But for the sake of reference an index has been added by means of which letters in the traditional enumeration can be found.

6. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To a greater or less extent every translator must be indebted to the work of his predecessors, and I do not claim to be any exception in this.

I most gratefully acknowledge the help I have received from the translation of St. Bernard's Letters made by the Rev. Samuel Eales towards the end of the last century.

The work of Dr. Eales will remain a monument of industry and scholarship however much the 1 All the world is waiting with eager anticipation and gratitude the definitive edition of 2 Bernard's works which is now being prepared by the well-known scholar Dom Jean Leclercq. ut ag it may be some years yet before the fruit of Dom Leclercq's labours is ready for the public,

I have used as my basic text for this translation the edition of Dom Mabillon, whenever possible checking obscure passages by having recourse to the manuscripts themselves and to the advice of better scholars than myself.

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Xxix fashions in translation may change.

IfI have not very often been able to agree with his interpretation of some of the more obscure passages in the text of St. Bernard, it has only been with the greatest diffidence that I have ventured to dissent from him.

No Englishman who works on St. Bernard can ignore the labours of the Rev. Watkin Williams.

His works on St. Bernard remain the only modern studies in English of the saint's life.

I have found his biography useful on many occasions, but it is a book that needs to be read with care.

There is also a life of the saint by Fr. Ailbe Luddy, Cistercian monk of Mount Melleray Abbey in Ireland.

It is a valuable work for those who seek edification and it has been compiled with great love and devotion.

We still await a modern and critical life of the saint in English.

The researches of Dr. David Knowles in medizval history are too well known to need recommendation.

It is from his work on the subject published in the Cambridge Historical Journal that I have derived much of my information concerning the vexed question of the York election.

I am also deeply indebted to Dr. Hugh Talbot whose researches have brought to light a score of new letters from the saint concerning the same subject which I have been able to embody in this work.

I express my gratitude both to Dr. Talbot and to the Cambridge Historical Journal for permission to use the text of these letters.

The work of modern scholars has enabled me to augment this book with several letters hitherto unknown and untranslated, all of which have been noted in their separate places.

In particular I must 'express my gratitude and thanks to Dom Jean Leclercq, O.S.B.; Fr. Maurice

Dumontier, and Fr. Grill, all of whom have most generously permitted me to cull the fruit of their learned researches.

I am also indebted to the Bulletin de l Académie royale de Belgique for the new letters of the saint which it published in 1861.

No one who would seriously study the writings of the early Cistercian Fathers can afford to ignore the learning and scholarship of the monks of Chimay Abbey in Belgium.

I am indebted to many of them for their kind help and encouragement as well as for their boundless hospitality, but especially to the learned editor of the Cistercian chapters, Fr. Joseph Canivez.

I must also express my appreciation of the kindly enthusiasm with which my modest labours have been greeted by the Cistercian Historical Commission at Aiguebelle.

It would be impossible for me even to estimate the help I have received from the monks of Caldey Abbey.

Certainly, if any credit at all attaches to this work, it is due to them.

Where all have been so helpful, it would be invidious to mention particular names.

I will simply say that the work was undertaken at the suggestion of their

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superior, but without the help and encouragement of both him and the monks of his community it would never have been completed.

It was they who provided me with the most powerful of all possible incentives.

My thanks are due also to the well-known scholar Mr. Archdale King for having taken immense pains to read through the typescript and correct the innumerable slips of spelling.

Finally, I want to express my very deep appreciation of the endless patience of my publishers.

Without their help this work could never have seen the light of day, and would never have been undertaken.

LETTER 1

TO ROBERT, HIS NEPHEW

(About the year 1119) Robert of Chatillon was the son of Otho of Chdtillon and, probably, Diana, the younger daughter of Robert of Montbard.

He would thus be Bernard's first cousin although, because of the great disparity in their ages, he was always known as his nephew.

When he was still a child his parents promised him to Cluny.

But later, when old enough to act on his own account, he joined the Cistercians, attracted, no doubt, by the fame of his kinsman.

After some delay owing to his extreme youth, Robert was admitted into the novitiate at Citeaux and, after the regular year of probation, made his vows as a Cistercian monk.

Whether he was professed at Citeaux and then followed St. Bernard to Clairvaux, or whether he went with Bernard when he made the foundation, is not certain.

But he was not long at Clairvaux before he began to find the austerities irksome and to compare the life there with the easier ways of Cluny.

To support his unsettled state came the insidious doubt as to whether he was not bound to Cluny by the promise of his parents.

This is one of the most characteristic of Bernard's letters and it is interesting from an historical point of view as the first shot fired in the great controversy between the congregation of Cluny and the Cistercian reform.

It is also interesting for the circumstances under which it was written.

The monk William, Bernard's secretary at this time, tells us that while Bernard was dictating in a secluded corner out of doors, where he could not be overheard, heavy rain began to fall. But when he tried to protect the letter Bernard told him to write on for it was God's work and yet, although rain fell all round, the letter remained dry "in imbre sine imbre'.

ONG enough, perhaps too long, have I waited, dearest Robert, for lf the Lord that he might deign to touch your soul and mine through yours, moving you to salutary regrets for your error and me to joy for your deliverance.

But seeing myself still disappointed of my hope, I can no longer hide my sorrow, restrain my anxiety, or dissemble my grief.

And so, against all the laws of justice, I who have been wounded am forced to recall him who wounded me; who have been spurned, him who spurned me; who have been smitten, him who struck the blow.

In short I must cast myself at the feet of him who should cast himself at mine, Sorrow is not careful to count the cost: is not ashamed; does not nicely weigh the pros and cons; is not fearful for its dignity; respects no rules; it cares only that it has what it would be without, or lacks what it would have.

'But', you will say, "I have hurt no one, spurned no one.

Rather have I, spurned and I

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repeatedly hurt, sought only to fly my oppressor.

Who can I have hurt, if I have only avoided being hurt?

Is it not wiser to yield to the persecutor than to resist him?

To avoid him who strikes than to strike back?'

Quite so; I agree.

I am not writing to dispute with you, but to remove the grounds for dispute. To fly persecution implies no fault in him who flees but in him who persecutes.

I do not deny this.

Ishall overlook the past.

I shall not ask why or how the present state of affairs came about. I shall forget old injuries.

To act otherwise were better calculated to open than to heal wounds.

I am concerned with what lies closer to my heart.

Unhappy man that I am who have not you by me, who cannot see you, who am obliged to live without you for whom to die would be to live, and to live without whom is no better than death!

So I do not ask why you left me, I only grieve that you do not return; I do not blame your going away, I only blame your not coming back.

Only come and there will be peace; return and there will be satisfaction.

Return, I say, return, and I shall sing in my heart, ' My brother who was dead has come to life again; was lost and is found '.

2. No doubt it may have been my fault that you left.

I was too severe with a sensitive youth, I was too hard on a tender stripling.

Hence your grumbles against me (as I remember) while you were here; hence your ceaseless complaints about me even now that I am absent.

The fault of this will not be laid at your door.

I might, perhaps, excuse myself by saying that only in this way could the passions of youth have been curbed and that, at first, a strict way of life must be hard on a raw youth.

I could quote Scripture to support me saying, 'Smite thy son with a rod and thou shalt deliver his soul from hell', and 'It is where he loves that the Lord bestows correction', and "The wounds of a friend are better than the deceitful kisses of an enemy'.

It may have been my fault that you left, as I have said.

We will not let arguments about who is to blame delay correction of what is blameworthy.

But it will surely begin to be your fault as well if you do not spare me now that I am sorry, if you do not forgive me now that I acknowledge myself to blame because, although I have been unwise in my treatment of you, I was certainly not malicious.

And if you in future distrust my wisdom, you must know that I am not the same man I was, because I do not think you are what you used to be. Having changed yourself, you will find me changed too.

You may now embrace me without hesitation as a companion whom you used to fear as a master. And so if you left through my fault, as you believe and I do not deny, or through your own fault, as man believe but I do not affirm, or, as I think more probable, through the fault of both of us, from now on you alone will be to blame if you do not return.

If you would be free of all blame in the matter you must return.

If you acknowledge your share of the blame, I forgive you.

TO ROBERT, HIS NEPHEW

But you too must forgive me what I acknowledge as my share.

Else if you acknowledge your share and at the same time dissemble it you will be too lenient with yourself, or if you refuse to forgive me even when I declare myself ready to make satisfaction, you will be too hard on me.

3. If you still refuse to come back you must seek another pretext to quiet your conscience because there will no longer be anything to fear from me.

You need not fear that in future you will have any-reason to fear me because even while you are not with me I have cast myself with my whole heart at your feet, moved thereto with all my affection.

I humble myself before you, I assure you of my love: can you still be afraid?

Be bold and come where humility beckons you and love draws you.

Forearmed by my assurances, approach without fear.

Now that I am become gentle, return to me from whom you fled when fierce. My severity frightened you away; let my tenderness draw you back.

See, my son, how I long to lead you now not any more in the spirit of slavery to govern you in fear, but in the spirit of adoption whereby we cry © Abba, Father'; you who have been the cause of so much grief to me, I shall lead not with threats but with encouragements, not by menacing but by entreating.

Perhaps anyone else would try another method.

And indeed who would not rather insist on your guilt and inspire you with fear; face you with your vow-and propose judgement. Who else would not scold your disobedience and be angry at your desertion, that you should have left the coarse habit for soft raiment, a fare of roots for delicacies, in fine poverty for riches.

But I know your heart.

I know that you can be lead more easily by love than driven by fear.

And what need is there to goad you again who have not kicked against the goad, why make you more fearful who are already timid enough, abase you more who are by nature bashful, you who are schooled by your own reason, whose own conscience is a rod, and whose natural shyness is a discipline.

And if it seems wonderful to anyone that a shy and timid boy should dare to desert both his vow and his monastery against the will of his brethren, the authority of his superior, the injunctions of the rule, let him wonder also that the sanctity of David was defrauded, the wisdom of Solomon deceived, the strength of Samson destroyed.

What wonder if the Evil One should have been able to deceive a youth in a place of horror and a great wilderness who could deceive the first man when he was in the aradise of Eden.

And this youth was not deceived by physical beauty Fike the old men of Babylon, nor by money like Giezi, nor by ambition like Julian the Apostate, but he was duped by sanctity, misled by religion, allured by the authority of age.

Do you ask how?

4. First there came a certain Grand Prior sent by the chief of all the priors himself.

Outwardly he came in sheep's clothing, but within he was a ravening wolf.

Alas!

The shepherds were deceived by his

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semblance to a sheep and admitted him alone into the fold. The smallest sheep in the fold did not fly from this wolf, he too was deceived and thought he was a sheep. What happened then?

This wolf in sheep's clothing fascinated, allured, and flattered.

He preached a new Gospel.

He commended feasting and condemned fasting. He called voluntary poverty wretched and poured scorn upon fasts, vigils, silence, and manual labour.

On the other hand he called sloth contemplation, gluttony, talkativeness, curiosity and all intemperance he commended as discretion.

' When', he asked, ' was God pleased with our sufferings; where do the Scriptures say that we should kill ourselves; what sort of religion is it to dig the soil, clear forests, and cart muck?"

Does not Truth itself say, ' It is mercy that wins favour with me and not sacrifice'; and 'I do not wish for the death of a sinner but rather that he should turn from his ways and live'; and 'Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy'? Why did

God make food if we may not eat it? Why did he give us bodies if we may not look after them?

In fact ' Whose friend is he, that is his own enemy, and leaves his own cheer untasted ?' 'What healthy and sane man has ever hated his own flesh?'

5. By such sophistries the too credulous boy was talked round, led astray and led off by his deceiver.

He was brought to Cluny and trimmed, shaved, and washed.

He was taken out of his rough, threadbare, and soiled habit, and clothed with a neat and new one.

Then with what honour, triumph, and respect was he received into the community!

He was favoured beyond his contemporaries; a sinner in the desires of his heart, he was praised as if he were a conquering hero returned from battle.

He was set up on high and, although a mere youth, was allocated to a position above many who were his seniors.

He was befriended, flattered, and congratulated by the whole fraternity.

Everyone made merry over him as though they were victors dividing the booty. O good Jesu, what a lot of trouble was taken for the ruin of one poor little soul! Who would be so hardhearted as not to soften at the sight of it! Whose soul, be it never so detached, would not be troubled by it!

And who in the midst of all this would care to consult his conscience?

And how could anyone amidst such vanities recognize the truth and achieve humility?

6. In the meantime representations were made at Rome.

The authority of the Holy See was cajoled.

And to make sure that the Pope would not refuse his assent, it was suggested to him that this youth while still a child had been oblated at Cluny by his parents.?

There was no one present to refute this nor was it anticipated that there ? An oblate was a young child formally offered to a monastery by his parents.

St. Benedict lays down the conditions under which the offering must be made in the soth chapter of his Rule.

The hand of the child is to be wrapped in the altar cloth together with the petition of the parents.

If the parents are rich they can offer land for the support of the child and retain, if they wish, the income of it for their lifetime.

Poor parents simply offered their child without any gifts,

TO ROBERT, HIS NEPHEW

would be. Judgement was pronounced on the case in the absence of the judged.

Those who had done the injury were upheld, the plaintiffs lost their suit, the defendant was absolved without making satisfaction.

And this far too indulgent sentence of absolution was confirmed by a cruel ordinance whereby the hesitating and doubtful youth was confirmed in an ill-advised stability and security.

The gist of the rescript, the sum of the judgement, the whole significance of the suit was nothing more than that the robbers could keep their spoils and that those who lost thereby must keep silent.

And withal a soul for whom Christ died must be lost to please Cluny.

So another profession is made, what will not be kept is vowed, what will not be performed is proposed: and since the first sin has been made void, in the second transgression is doubled, and sinning there is sin beyond measure.

7. But he will come, he will come who will judge again the misjudgements of men, who will confute what has been unlawfully vowed, who will execute judgement for them that suffer wrong, who will judge the poor with justice and reprove with equity on behalf of the meek of the earth.

He will surely come who has warned us by the Prophet in the psalm, 'When I shall choose a time, I will judge righteousness'.

What will he do about unjust judgements who will judge even righteousness?

It will come, I say, the day of judgement will come and then a clean heart will avail more than crafty words, and a good conscience more than a full purse.

He will then be judge who can neither deceive nor be deceived by words and who cannot be bribed by gifts. To your judgement seat, Lord Jesu, I appeal; I reserve my defence for your court.

To you I commit my suit, Lord God of Sabaoth, who judges justly and searches the reins and the heart, who can neither deceive nor be deceived.

You know who they are that seek their own ends and who they are that seek your glory.

You know with what agony of heart I waited upon the youth in his trials, how I beat upon your loving ears with my prayers for him, how for his anxieties, troubles, and vexations, I was on fire, and torn, and afflicted.

And now, I fear, it has all been in vain. I believe that, so far as I know, for a youth already hot-blooded and insolent enough such foments were of little use to the body and such trials of glory of Footnote continued from page 4 But whether rich or poor the child might not under any circumstances receive anything or have the prospect of receiving anything either from the parents or from a third person.

The child thus formally offered became a member of the Community and might not return to the world.

The dangers of this system were fully realized.

Two successive popes, Clement III and Celestine III, granted a general permission for all oblates to return to the world if they wished.

Guigo, Prior of the Chartreuse, forbade in his statutes the reception of oblates because of the dangers involved by the system, St. Bernard contends in this letter that Robert was only promised and not formally oblated to Cluny.

And in any case, he maintains, a vow made by parents on behalf of their child before he was old enough to know anything about it, could not weigh against a vow, especially for a higher perfection, made by the child when he was old enough to be responsible for his own actions.

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little avail to the mind.

And so, Lord Jesu, be you my arbiter, let my judgement come forth from your countenance.

8. Let them see and judge which has the most force: the vow a father makes on behalf of his son, or the vow a son makes on his own behalf, especially when it is a vow of something better.

Let your servant and our law-giver, Benedict, judge which is the more in order: a vow made for a child when it is too young to know anything about it, or the vow he afterwards makes for himself when he realizes and understands what he is doing, when he is of an age to speak for himself.

However there is no doubt that the boy was only promised to Cluny without any formal oblation, for the petition prescribed by the Rule was not made by his parents, nor was his hand bound in the altar cloth, and the offering made before witnesses.1

They point out the land which, they say, was made with the child and for him.

But if they received him with the land how was it they kept the land and not the child?

Can it be that they prized the land more than the child?

If he had been oblated what was he doing in the world?

A nursling of God, why was he exposed to the maw of the wolf? You yourself, Robert, are a witness that you entered our

Order from the world and not from Cluny. You implored to be admitted, you begged and besought, but, much against your will, your entrance was put off for two years on account of your tender age.

When this time had been allowed patiently to pass and without evasion, at last with prayers and (as you will remember) with many tears you besought the long awaited mercy, and were granted the admission you had sought for so long. You were tried in all patience for a year according to the Rule, living perseveringly and without complaint.

After the year had passed you, of your own free will, made your profession and then, for the first time, you put off the attire of the world and were clothed in the habit of Religion.

9. You foolish boy! Who has bewitched you to break the vows which adorned your lips? Will you not be justified or condemned out of your own mouth? Why then are you so anxious about the vow your parents made and yet so regardless of your own?

It is out of your own mouth and not out of the mouth of your parents that you will be judged.

Of your own vow, not of theirs, will you be called to render an account.

Why does anyone try to bamboozle you with an Apostolic absolution, you whose own conscience is bound by a divine sentence, ' No one putting their hand to the plough and looking back is fit for the kingdom of God'?

Would they persuade you that you have not looked back who say to you, ' Well done!' My son, if sinners shall entice you, consent not to them.

Believe not every spirit.

Be at peace with many, but let one in a thousand be your counsellor.

Gird yourself, cast off your seducers, 1 See note, p. 4.

TO ROBERT, HIS NEPHEW

HW shut your ears to flatterers, search your own heart, for you know yourself best.

Listen to your conscience, examine your intentions, consider the facts.

Let your conscience tell you why you left your monastery, your brethren, your own place, and myself who am related to you by blood, but even more closely by spirit.

If you left so as to lead a harder, higher, and more perfect life, fear not, you have not looked back, rather you can glory with the Apostle, saying, ' Forgetting what I have left behind, intent on what lies ahead, I press on with the goal in view'.

But if it be otherwise, be not high minded but fearful because (you must pardon my saying this) whatever you permit yourself in food, unnecessary clothes, idle words, vain and curious travel in excess of what you promised when you were with us, is without any doubt to look back, to equivocate, to apostatize. to. And I have said this, my son, not to put you to shame, but to help you as a loving father because if you have many masters in Christ, yet you have few fathers.

For, if you will allow me to say so, I begot you in Religion by word and by example.

I nourished you with milk when, while yet a child, it was all you could take.

And I would have given you bread if you had waited until you grew up.

But alas! how soon and how early were you weaned.

Now I fear that all I had cherished with kindness, strengthened with encouragement, confirmed with prayers, is even now fading and wasting away.

Sadly I weep, not for my lost labour, but for the unhappy state of my lost child.

Do you prefer that another should rejoice in you who has not laboured for you? My case is the same as that of the harlot Solomon judged, whose child was stealthily taken by another who had overlain and killed her own.

You too were taken from my side, cut from me.

My heart cannot forget you, half of it went with you, and what remains cannot but suffer.

11. But our friends who have tried to do this thing, whose sword has pierced my side, whose teeth are spears and arrows and whose tongue is a sharp sword, for what advantage of yours have they done it, for what necessity?

If I have in any way offended them (and I am not conscious of having done so) they have certainly paid me back in full.

I would not wonder if] have received more than my share of retaliation, if indeed they have suffered anything like what I suffer now from them.

It is not a bone of my bones, flesh of my flesh that they have taken, but it is the joy out of my heart, the fruit of my spirit, the crown of my hopes, and (so it seems to me) the half of my soul. Why have they done this thing?

Perhaps they were sorry for you?

Perhaps they feared that because I was like a blind man leading the blind, we would both fall into the ditch.

So they took you under their leadership. Hard necessity!

Grievous charity!

So careful of your good that it must strike at mine.

Is it not possible that you should be saved except at my cost?

Ah! would that these men might save you apart

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from me.

Would that if I die you, at least, may live!

But how can this be? Does salvation rest rather in soft raiment and high living than in frugal fare and moderate clothing?

If warm and comfortable furs, if fine and precious cloth, if long sleeves and ample hoods, if dainty coverlets and soft woollen shirts make a saint, why do I delay and not follow you at once?

But these things are comforts for the weak, not the arms of fighting men.

They who wear soft raiment are in kings' houses.

Wine and white bread, honey-wine and pittances, benefit the body not the soul.

The soul is not fattened out of frying pans! Many monks in Egypt served God for a long time without fish.

Pepper, ginger, cummin, sage, and all the thousand other spices may please the palate, but they inflame lust.

And would you make my safety depend on such things?

Will you spend your youth safely among them?

Salt with hunger is seasoning enough for a man living soberly and wisely.

If we eat before we are hungry, then we must concoct mixtures with more and more I know not what far-fetched flavours to arouse our greed and stimulate our flagging appetites.

12. But what, you say, is to be done if one cannot live otherwise?

Good.

Iknow you are not strong, that you would now find it difficult to support a harder way of life.

But what if you can act so as to make yourself able to do so?

I will tell you how it could be done.

Arouse yourself, gird your loins, put aside idleness, grasp the nettle, and do some hard work.

If you act thus you will soon find that you only need to eat what will satisfy your hunger, not what will make your mouth water.

Hard exercise will restore the flavour to food that idleness has taken away.

Much that you would refuse to eat when you had nothing to do, you will be glad of after hard work.

Idleness makes one dainty, hard work makes one hungry.

It is wonderful how work can make food taste sweet which idleness finds insipid.

Vegetables, beans, roots, and bread and water may be poor fare for one living at his ease, but hard work soon makes them taste delicious.

You have become unaccustomed to our clothes and now you dread them as too cold in winter and too hot in summer.

But have you not read, ' They that fear the frost, the snow shall fall upon them'?

You fear our vigils, fasts, and manual labour, but they seem nothing to anyone who considers the flames of hell.

The thought of the outer darkness will soon. reconcile anyone to wild solitudes.

Silence does not displease when it is considered how we shall have to give an account of every idle word.

With the picture before our eyes of that weeping and gnashing of teeth the difference between a rush mat and a feather bed seems small enough.

If we spend well all the night enjoined by the Rule in psalmody, it will be a hard bed on which we cannot sleep. If we labour with our hands as much during the day as we are professed to do, rough indeed will be the fare we cannot eat.

13. Arise, soldier of Christ, J say arise!

Shake off the dust and

TO ROBERT, HIS NEPHEW

return to the battle.

You will fight more valiantly after your flight, and you will conquer more gloriously.

There are many soldiers of Christ who have begun valiantly, stood their ground well, and finished by conquering, but few who have returned to the battle after they had fled, thrown themselves once more into the thick of the danger from which they had escaped, and put to flight the foe from whom they had run. A thing is the more precious for being rare, so I rejoice that you can be one of those who are the more glorious for being so scarce.

But if you are still fearful, I ask you why you should be afraid where there is no cause for fear, instead of where you have every reason to tremble.

Do you think that because you have forsaken the front line the enemy has forsaken you?

Far from it.

He will follow you in flight more readily than he would fight you when striking back.

He attacks you more willingly from behind than he would strive with you face to face.

Can you sleep unarmed without anxiety in the morning hours when it was at that time that Christ rose from the dead?

Do you not know that unarmed you are both more fearful and less to be feared?

A multitude of armed men surround the house, and can you still sleep? Already they are scaling the ramparts, swarming over the barriers, pouring in at the rear.

Would you be safer alone or with others?

Naked in bed or armed in camp? Get up, arm yourself, and fly to your fellow soldiers whom you have forsaken by running away.

Let the fear that drove you away also bring you back.

_Is it the weight and discomfort of arms that you shun, feeble soldier?

Believe me when an enemy is at hand and darts begin flying a shield seems none too heavy, and a helmet and corselet are not noticed.

Everything seems hard at first to someone coming suddenly from darkness into light, from leisure to labour.

But when you have got away from your former habits you will soon get used to the labour.

Practice soon makes perfect.

What seemed difficult at first presently becomes quite easy.

Even the bravest soldiers are apt to tremble when they first hear the bugle summon to battle, but after they have closed with the enemy hope of victory and fear of defeat soon inspires courage.

Surrounded by a company of single-hearted brethren, what have you to fear? What have you to fear at whose side angels stand and whom Christ leads into battle encouraging his friends with the words, ' Fear not, I have overcome the world'.

If Christ is with us, who is against us? You can fight with confidence where you are sure of victory.

With Christ and for Christ victory is certain.

Not wounds, nor falls, nor bruises, nor (were it possible) can a thousand deaths rob us of victory, if only we do not forsake the fight. Only by desertion can we be defeated.

We can lose the victory by flight but not by death.

Happy are you if you die in battle for after death you will be crowned.

But woe to you if, by forsaking the battle, you forfeit at once both the victory

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and the crown.

May Christ save you from this, dear son, for at the last judgement you will incur a greater penalty on account of this letter of mine if, when you have read it, you do not take its.lesson to heart.

LEETERS2 TO FULK,

A YOUNG MAN WHO LATER BECAME ARCHDEACON OF LANGRES

Little seems to be known about Fulk beyond what can be gathered from this letter.

Evidently he was a young man who, after he had been professed as a Canon Regular of St. Augustine, was persuaded by his rich uncle to return to the world.

As he later became Archdeacon of Langres we may assume that he did not follow the advice of St. Bernard and return to his Order.

To the youth of great promise, Fulk, from Brother Bernard, a sinner, that he may so rejoice in his youth as to have no regrets in his old age.

DO not wonder if you are surprised that I a rustic and a monk should I address myself to you, a citizen of towns and a student, with no excuse or clear reason that can occur to you.

I should wonder if you were not surprised.

But you will perhaps understand how better motives than presumption dictate my letter to you if you consider those words of Scripture, 'I have the same duty to all, learned and simple', and * Charity does not seek its own'.

I am indeed bound in charity to exhort you who are in charity to be grieved for although you do not grieve; to be sorrowed for, although you are not sorrowful. And all the more so for the very reason that, an object of grief, yet you do not grieve; of sorrow, yet you are not sorrowful.

But perhaps my pity for you will not be wasted if you will only listen while I tell you why you are to be pitied.

Charity would have you feel sorrow that then you may begin to have less cause to be sorry; she would have you know yourself to be shameful so you may then have less cause for shame.

Our good mother Charity loves us all and shows herself differently to each one of us, cherishing the weak, scolding the restive, exhorting the advanced.

But when she scolds she is meek, when she consoles she is sincere.

She rages lovingly, her caresses are without guile.

She knows how to be angry without losing patience, how to be indignant without being proud.

It is she, the mother of angels and men, who brings peace not only on earth, but even in heaven.

It is she who brings God to men and reconciles men with God.

It is she, my dear Fulk, who makes those brethren with whom you once 'broke sweet bread' to live together in concert.

And it is this mother whom you have wounded, whom you have affronted.

Yet although you have affronted her, she does not contend with you.

Spurned by you she calls you back, showing by this how

TO FULK, LATER ARCHDEACON OF LANGRES

II truly it has been written of her ' Charity is patient; charity is kind ".

Although wounded and affronted by you yet, should you return to her, she will meet you as an honoured mother.

She will forget how you repudiated her and throw herself into your arms, rejoicing that her son who was lost is found; who was dead has come to life again.

2. But, you will ask, how have I wounded and affronted charity.

Listen.

You have done so by tearing yourself from her when she was feeding you with the milk of her breasts; when suddenly and frivolously you spewed her sweet nourishment from your mouth, the sweet milk of charity on which you might have grown strong in virtue.

Foolish child!

A child more by reason of your folly than your years.

Who has bewitched you that you should have left the good work you had begun? You say it was your uncle.

Thus Adam blamed Eve and Eve blamed the serpent, making excuses in sin.

Yet their excuses did not save either of them from a punishment they deserved.

I would not have you accuse the Dean; I would not have you blame him for your folly.

His sin does not excuse yours.

There is no excuse for you.

What has he done?

Has he carried you off by force?

He asked you, but he did not compel you.

He enticed by flattery, but he did not drag you with violence.

Was there any obligation to believe his flattery, to give in to his enticements?

He was not bound by any vow of poverty, so that what wonder if he should want you with him whom he regards as his own?

If a man loses a sheep or a calf he may seek it and no one complains. Why then should not your uncle seek you who are more precious to him than many sheep and calves?

He is not obliged to that state of perfection for which it has been laid down that 'If any man take what is thine, do not ask him to restore it'. He was only seeking his own when he was entitled to do so.

But were you obliged to follow a career in the world when you had renounced the world?

The trembling sheep flies when the wolf comes, the timid dove hides when it sees the hawk, the hungry mouse dare not leave its hole when the cat is about, and yet you when you see the thief must you run with him? What else but a thief is he who would steal your soul, the precious pearl of Christ?

3. I was hoping, had it been possible, to draw a veil over the fault of your uncle for fear that I should receive no thanks but hatred for telling the truth.

But I confess that I cannot let his conduct pass without mention.

For he who does not what he may to restrain his hand from evil, even though that evil may sometimes be frustrated, the purpose is not less blameworthy.

He certainly tried to damp my novice's ardour but, thanks to God, he was not able.

He also resisted strongly the good intentions of Guarike, his other nephew and your kinsman.

But he did no harm, in fact he rendered a service, for at length the old man grudgingly gave way and Guarike came through

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all the more glorious for having surmounted the trial. How then was he able to win you over who could not win Guarike?

How did it happen that he was able to overcome you who was overcome by him?

Is Guarike stronger or more prudent than you?

Certainly anyone who had formerly known you both would have put Fulk first.

But when it came to the fight the result proved the judgement of men wrong.

He who had been thought the stronger flies—for shame! and he who had been considered the weaker conquers.

4. But what shall I say of the malice of this uncle of yours who draws his nephews from the army of Christ that he may drag them with him to hell?

Is this the way he rewards those he loves? Whom Christ calls to share with him his heavenly kingdom, this uncle invites to burn forever with him in hell.

I should not wonder if Christ were not already angry and saying to him, "How often have I not been ready to gather thy nephews together, and thou didst refuse it. Behold your house is left desolate to you.'

Christ says, " Let little children be, do not keep them back from me, the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these'.

But your uncle says, 'Leave my nephews to me that they may burn with me'.

'They are mine', says Christ, "and must serve me.'

'They shall perish with me', replies your uncle.

'I redeemed them, they are mine', says Christ.

'But I fed them', says your uncle.

'The bread you fed them with was mine not yours, but my blood not yours redeemed them', says Christ.

Thus their uncle after the flesh fights with their heavenly father for his nephews in order to disinherit them of heavenly joys and burden them with ~ earthly gifts. Yet Christ thinks it no robbery to gather together his elect, who were created by him, and whom he redeemed with his blood, according to his promise, ' Him who comes to me I will never cast out'.

He opened the door gladly to Fulk as soon as he knocked and with joy he embraced him.

What more?

He put off the old man, and was clothed in the new and the ideals of a Canon, which had existed only in name, he professed in his life and conduct.

The fame of it took wings, a sweet savour before Christ: the novelty of the thing was noised abroad and came to the ears of his uncle.

5. What would his guardian in the flesh do about this?

He had lost the comfort of his nephew's presence whom he had loved too much according to the flesh.

Although for others this event had been as a sweet savour of life eternal, it was not so to him.

Why?

' Because the sensual man percciveth not the things that are of God for it is foolishness to him.'

Had the spirit of Christ been in him he would not have grieved so much in the flesh as he would have rejoiced in the spirit.

Because he was wise rather according to the world than according to heaven, disturbed and put out he mused with himself something like this: What is this Ihear?

Iam undone!

Thave been deprived of my great hope.

But come! this thing cannot be done

TO FULK, LATER ARCHDEACON OF LANGRES

without me, without my consent.

What right, what justice, what reason is there in it? My hair is already white and shall I spend the rest of my days in grief because I have lost the staff of my old age?

Were my soul to be required of me this night, who would have what I have put by?

' My store-houses are full, overflowing on this side and that, my sheep are bearing fruitfully and throng the pastureland' and to whom will all this belong?

Farms, meadows, houses, gold and silver vessels, for whose benefit have I amassed them all?

I had acquired for myself certain richer and more sought-after honours in my Church: the rest, although it was not lawful for me to have them, yet I held on to them for the sake of Fulk.

What can I do now?

Must I lose all these things just because of him?

For whatever I have without him to inherit, I might as well not have at all.

It were better to keep everything and recall him if I could.

But how can this be done?

Fulk is a professed Canon Regular.

This is an accomplished fact.

It is known by everyone.

What has been done cannot be undone.

What is known cannot be hushed up.

If he returns to the world now it will be known and ill spoken of. But it were better to hear this of him than to live without him.

On this occasion what is right must give place to what is useful; propriety to what is necessary.

I would rather sacrifice the good name of the boy than subject myself to misery.

6. And so consenting unto these counsels of the flesh the uncle forgot all law and reason.

Fearing nothing sacred he raged and roared like a lion prepared for its prey or a lioness robbed of its cub.

He burst into the dwelling of these holy men where Christ had hidden his raw recruit to protect bim from the strife of tongues that he might afterwards consort with angels.

He begged and implored that his nephew be given back to him.

He shouted and cried that he had been unjustly left.

Christ called back:

"Unhappy man, what are you doing? Why are you raving like this? Why are you persecuting me?

Is it not enough for you that you should have robbed me of your own soul and, by your example, the souls of many others, so that you must also lay sacrilegious hands on this one? Have you no fear of the judgement?

Do you care nothing for my anger?

To whom are you doing this thing, against whom have you declared war?

" Against him who is terrible, even him who taketh away the spirit of princes."

Madman! put your own house in order.

Remember your last hour and tremble.

And you, boy,' he says, ' if you give way and consent to your uncle, you shall die the death.

Think of Lot's wife.

She was saved from Sodom because she believed in God.

But she was turned to a pillar of salt on the way because she looked back.

Learn from the Gospels that no one who has put his hand to the plough may look back.

Your uncle has lost his own soul and wants yours; " The words of his mouth are iniquity and guile".

Do not be one of those who will not

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

understand lest they do well.

Pay no attention to vanity and deceitful folly. Lo!

On the path you tread the fowler has laid his snare and spread his nets.

His words are as smooth as oil, but they are very arts.

Take care, my son, that you are not deceived by the lips that speak guile and the deceitful tongue.

Let the love of God quicken your heart lest carnal affection deceive you.

He flatters you but under his tongue lurks labour and tears, and he lieth in ambush that he may catch the innocent. I tell you, my son, take heed lest you consent to flesh and blood for my sword is sharp and shall devour all flesh.

Despise his flattery, spurn his promises.

He promises great things, I promise greater.

He offers many things, I offer more.

Will you throw away heaven for earth, eternity for time?

Ifnot you must keep the vows that have adorned your lips. You are justly bound to honour your vows since you were not bound to vow.

Although I opened to you when you knocked, yet I did not force you to come in.

It is therefore not permitted you to cast aside what you have promised; it is not lawful for you to seek again what you have freely put away.

I warn both you and your uncle.

I have salutary advice to offer you.

To you, the uncle, I say do not take back to the world one who is bound to a rule or you will take him with you to hell.

And to you, my son, I say do not follow after your uncle; if you do so you follow against me whom you injure.

To you, the uncle, I say if you lead astray a soul for whom I have died you set yourself up as an enemy of the cross.

"" He that gathereth not with me, scatters", and how much more so if he scatters what has been already gathered!

And you, my son, if you consent unto your uncle you dissent from me, because he who is not with me is against me.

And how much more will you be against me if you desert me after having once been with me.

But you, the uncle, if you offend one of these little ones who come to me, you shall be judged a seducer and a sacrilegist.

Whereas you, the nephew, if you pull down again what you have built up, you will make yourself an apostate.

Both of you must appear before my judgement seat, both must appear before my tribunal, the nephew to be judged for his own apostasy, the uncle for the apostasy of his nephew.

And if one die in his iniquity his blood shall be required at the hands of the other.'

These and the like, thou, O Christ, didst thunder unseen to the consciences of both the nephew and the uncle, with these warnings thou didst lovingly besiege the hearts of both.

Who would not tremble at these words of thine and look to it with fear lest he become like unto the deaf asp who stoppeth her ears that she hear not the voice of the charmer charming wisely and either not hear or feign to have not heard.

7. But I have already written enough, even perhaps too much, of what it were better to keep silent.

But why, fearful of revealing the whole shameful affair, have I approached the truth by ways so round

TO FULK, LATER ARCHDEACON OF LANGRES

about? I will explain, although I do so with shame.

I would rather say nothing but what is already known I could not hide even if I would.

And indeed why should I be ashamed? Why should I be ashamed to write of what they were not ashamed to do?

If it should shame them to hear what they have shamelessly done; at least let them not be ashamed to correct what they do not willingly hear.

Ah the pity of it!

Neither of them could be kept from his evil ways; not the one from seducing by fear or reason nor the other from apostasy by shame or his vow.

What more?

The crafty tongue devises words of guile: it has brought forth grief and persuaded iniquity.' It perverted the converted, and the dog returned to its vomit.

Their Church has taken back its alumnate whom it were better for it to have lost.

It was the same thing at Lyons. By a like zeal and industry of their Dean, they disgracefully took back his nephew, one of their Canons, whom they had lost to a good purpose.

Just as the one filched Fulk from St. Augustine, so the other filched Osbert from St. Benedict.

How much better would it have been for these young men to have become saintly under the rule of a saint rather than to have been perverted by a pervert! How much more beautiful if the religious boy had persuaded the worldly man so that both should conquer, than that the worldly man should have led astray the religious boy so that both were overcome!

Unhappy old man!

Cruel uncle!

Already you are infirm, soon to die, but first you must kill the soul of your nephew!

You have deprived your nephew of the heritage of Christ so that you may have an heir to your sins!

But ' whose friend is he that is his own enemy?'

So he preferred to have an heir to his goods than an intercessor for his sins.

8. But what have I to do with deans?

They are our instructors and they hold a high place in the Church.

They hold the key of knowledge and take the first seat in the synagogues.

Let them see to it how they judge their subordinates; how they call back their fugitives, and pack them off again if they so wish; how they gather together whom they have scattered and scatter again whom they have gathered together.

I must confess that it was on account of my affection for you, my dear Fulk, that I have rather overstepped the bounds of my humble state.

I tried at their expense to spare your own shame and to mitigate your fault.

I will now pass them over in case they become more angry with me than with their fault and think more of abusing me than of correcting themselves.

I am not concerned with those in high places but with an ingenuous youth who does not know how to be indignant and angry!

Unless indeed a child more in good sense than in malice you should throw this very thing in my teeth and say: What have you to do with me?

What concern of yours are my sins? Am Ia monk?

And to this, I confess, I have no answer except that I believed in the gentleness of your nature and trusted in the love of God to which, you

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

may remember, I appealed at the beginning of this letter.

It was my zeal for the love of God that moved me to pity for your error, to compassion for your unhappy state, so that I interfered beyond my accustomed measure and manner in order to save you, although you are not a monk of mine.

Your sad lapse and miserable fall spurred me on to presume this thing.

For whom else of your contemporaries have you seen me rebuke or write even the shortest letter?

Not that I think they are saints or can find nothing to blame in their lives!

9. Then why, you will say, do you single me out for rebuke?

I reply that I do so on account of the singular gravity of your fault, on account of the enormity of your sin.

Although many of your contemporaries may lead bad lives, although they may be irregular and undisciplined, yet they have not been professed in any Order nor have they vowed to keep any rule.

They may indeed be sinners, but they. are not apostates.

Your case is different.

No matter how quietly and honourably you may live, no matter how chastely, soberly, and even piously you may conduct yourself, yet would God be less pleased with this than he would be angered at your breaking your vows.

Therefore, beloved, you must not compare yourself with these men of the world for you are separated from them by your religious profession.

They are not, as you are, bound by vows.

Nor must you flatter yourself on account of your, perhaps, stricter self-control, for the Lord says to you, ' Would that I had found you either hot or cold'.

By this he clearly means that you please him less being lukewarm than you would if you were stone cold even as these are.

God waits for these that they may at last turn from coldness to the heat of fervour, but he sees with anger that you have become lukewarm after being fervently hot.

' And because I have found you ', he says, ' neither hot nor cold, I will spew you out of my mouth', and deservedly, because you have rejected his grace and returned to your vomit. to. Alas!

How soon you tired of Christ, of whom it is written, ' Honey and milk are under thy tongue'.

I wonder that you should have turned against the taste of this sweet nourishment unless perhaps you have never tasted and seen how sweet is the Lord.

Either you have never tasted the sweetness of Christ and so do not miss what you have never known or else, if you have tasted and yet not found sweet, your palate is sick.

Wisdom itself says, ' They that eat me shall vet hunger; and they that drink me shall thirst again'. But how can anyone hunger and thirst for Christ who is filled every day with the husks of swine?

You cannot drink from both the cup of Christ and the cup of devils.

The cup of devils is pride; the cup of devils is slander and envy; the cup of devils is debauchery and drunkenness; and when these fill the mind and body there is no room for Christ.

You must not wonder at what Iam going to say.

In the house of your uncle you cannot taste the plenty of the house of God.

You ask why?

TO FULK, LATER ARCHDEACON OF LANGRES

I answer because the house of your uncle is a house of delicate living and as water cannot mix with fire, so the delights of the flesh and the joys of the spirit cannot go together.

Christ does not deign to pour out his wine, sweeter than honey and the honeycomb, for one whom he sees debauched in his cups.

The bread of heaven is not tasted amid a delicate variety of foods and napery of every colour, so that both eyes and belly are filled.

' Rejoice, therefore, O young man in your youth.' When the joy of life fades endless remorse will devour you.

Far be this from our Fulk; may God forefend his child from such a fate!

Let him rather scatter those who with lips of guile give you such counsels, who say to you, ' Well done!

Well done!!' but who seek your soul that they may devour it. These are they whose evil counsels corrupt good manners.

1. But how long is it already, and you are still among them.

What business have you in towns who have chosen the cloister?

What do you in the world who have renounced the world?

' The Lord is your portion in pleasant places' and yet you still gape after worldly riches.

If you wish to have both you will receive the short answer, ' Son, thou didst receive thy good fortune in thy lifetime'.

It says 'received' not ' robbed', so you cannot flatter yourself even on the grounds that you are content with what you have and do not rob other people.

What, in fact, are the things you have?

Benefices of the Church?

Quite right, they are.

And if you rise from your bed for the Vigils, if you attend Masses, if you frequent choir for the day and night offices, you do well.

In this case you have not received your prebend from the Church for nothing.

It is fitting that he who serves the altar should live by the altar.

And I grant you that if you serve the altar well, you can live by the altar, but not in luxury, not in pride. You cannot provide yourself from the altar with golden trappings for your horse, inlaid chairs, silvered spurs, and every sort of multicoloured furs for your gloves and collars.

In fact what you take from the altar in excess of your bare needs is not yours, and it is sacrilege and robbery. Wisdom prays to be given only what is necessary for life, not what is superfluous, and the Apostle says that he is content with food and clothing, not with food and ornaments.

And another saint has said, 'If God shall give me bread to eat and raiment wherewith to be covered'.

Note you, he says ' raiment wherewith to be covered' not ' wherewith to be adorned'.

So let us then be content just with clothes for covering ourselves, not for wantonness, not for effeminacy, not for pleasing lewd women.

But, you say, those with whom I live do this, and if I should behave otherwise I would make myself singular.

Just so, and it is for this reason that I say to you, Come out from their midst, so that you need not live in a manner to cause remark in towns or lose your soul by following the example of others.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

12. What business have you in towns, fancy soldier?

Your brother soldiers, whom you have deserted by running away, are fighting and conquering, they are knocking on the gates of heaven and it is being opened unto them, they take the kingdom of heaven by force and are kings, while you trot around the streets and market places on your horse, clothed in scarlet and fine linen.

But these are not the accoutrements of war!

Or are you one of those who say, ° Peace, peace and there is no peace'?

Sumptuous clothes are no protection against lust and pride, they do not keep avarice at bay, nor quench any other fiery darts of the enemy.

Nor do they help against the fever you fear even more and they cannot keep death away.

Where, then, are your arms of war?

Where is your shield of faith, your helmet of salvation, your corselet of patience?

What do you fear?

There are more with us than against us.

Take up arms and act the man while the fight is still in progress.

We have angels for witnesses and allies.

The Lord himself is at hand to sustain us, to teach our hands to make war and the fingers of our hands to fight.

Let us set out to help our brothers, lest they should fight and conquer, and enter the kingdom without us.

It will be too late to knock when the doors are closed, we would then receive the answer, ' Verily I know you not'.

Make yourself known, I pray you, first in the battle, show yourself in the fight, lest on that last day you be known only to the devils in hell and not to Christ in glory.

If Christ recognizes you in battle, he will recognize you then, and as he promised, reveal himself to you.

But only if you recover your senses and repent so that you may be able to say with confidence, ' Then I shall know even as I am known'.

And now I have besieged enough for the present the heart of a shy youth with my invectives, it remains to besiege the ears of divine mercy on his behalf, so that if the Lord should find it to have softened but a little under my blows I shall, without doubt, be able to rejoice in him with great joy.

LETIER'3

TO THE CANONS OF EAUCOURT!

It is not known who these Canons were.

To the superior of the holy body of clergy and their disciples now gathered together at the place called Eaucourt, from the little flock of Clairvaux and their humble servant Brother Bernard, that they may walk in the ways of the spirit and in the spirit search all things.

D, Mabillon, on the authority of a MS. at Corbei, entitled this letter to the Canons Regular of Horricourt (Aildicurte), but there are no records of any Canons Regular having been at Horricourt.

Lately the well-known Trappist scholar, Fr. Anselm Dimier of Scourmont, has established beyond doubt that the correct reading is Eaucourt, not Horricourt.

TO ARNOLD, ABBOT OF MORIMOND

HAVE wondered at and admired the great learning and charity evident I from the most helpful and comprehensive exhortation in the letter you addressed to me.

But the praise you bestow upon myself is better evidence of your devotion than your knowledge of me; although, as an example of your humility, I can learn from it not a little, yet, knowing myself to be far beneath what you imagine, it cannot but fill me with fear. For who, with any knowledge of himself, could accept such praise without either great fear or great danger? It is not safe for anyone to commit himself to a judgement of this kind even from another.

Our judge is the Lord.

As for those brothers for whose well-being I know you to be so charitably anxious, that you may set your mind at rest about them I must tell you that on the advice and encouragement of many illustrious. persons and especially of that very distinguished man William, Bishop of Ch4lons-sur-Marne,! they have begged us with many prayers and supplications to receive them at Clairvaux.

For the sake of a stricter way of life they wish to transfer themselves, with the help of God, from the rule of St. Augustine to the rule of St. Benedict, yet they depart not by so doing from the teaching of him who is the only Master of us all, nor do they render void by their action the first faith they received amongst you, yea at the Baptismal Font, but rather do they preserve it safe and whole.

If perchance within the year of probation, laid down by the Rule, they should falter in their new purpose and wish to return to you, I shall not keep them here against their will.

Being then such men and received in such wise, may it be far from me to believe that you are hurt by us receiving them or will be hurt by us keeping them.

And so, most holy brothers, it would but ill become you vainly to attempt to hamper the liberty of spirit which is theirs by any ill-considered anathema, unless perhaps (which God forbid) it is your own interests and not the glory of Jesus Christ you are trying to promote.

LETTER 4

TO ARNOLD, ABBOT OF MORIMOND

Arnold was the first Abbot of Morimond, an abbey founded from Citeaux in the year 1115.

He was the brother of Frederick, Archbishop of Cologne, and Henry, later Abbot of Riddagshausen, a Cistercian house in Brunswick.

This letter belongs to the year 1124? and was occasioned by a sad moral disaster to the Order.

Arnold, tiring of the difficulties of his charge (apparently 1 This is William of Champeaux, the great friend of St. Bernard.

He had been Archdeacon of Paris and, at his feet, when he presided over the Cathedral school of Notre Dame, Abelard had sat.

In 1108 he founded the abbey of Canons Regular of St. Victor and entered it himself as a canon.

In 1113 he became Bishop of Chalons-sur-Marne and there ordained St. Bernard and consecrated him as abbot.

Henceforth Clairvaux is said to have become a second home for the bishop and the entire city of Ch4lons-sur-Marne as a home for the monks of Clairvaux.

He died in the habit of a Cistercian monk and was buried at Clairvaux in the year 1121.

2 See Statuta Capitulorum Generalium Ordinis Cisterciensis, Ed. D. Josephus Canivez.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

his lay-brothers were lazy, his monks disobedient, and his neighbours hostile), suddenly, and without consulting anyone, left his charge and with a handful of monks set out for the Holy Land ' where', says Bernard in another letter concerning the same subject, ' it is well known that soldiers to fight and not monks to sing are what is wanted'.

But he died suddenly in Belgium the next year without having either accomplished his purpose or corrected his error.

As soon as the news of Arnold's death reached Bernard he set about trying to mitigate the ill-effects of his behaviour.

He immediately wrote letters to persuade the fugitive monks to return and had his own prior, Walter, appointed to succeed him.

From the dates, as well as from the evidence of the following letter, it is clear that Arnold and Bernard had been at Citeaux together and were well known to each other.

As Bernard knew the headstrong character of Arnold, so Arnold must have been fully aware of the persuasiveness of Bernard for, unwilling to be turned from his purpose, he was careful to keep out of Bernard's way.

Of some passages in this letter the late Watkin Williams has said:

* They are some of the few that have come down to us revealing the tumultuous emotionalism of the Saint, an emotionalism which with him is never the master, but always the servant, deliberately controlled, disciplined to a purpose, directed to an end as the keenest of instruments in the hands of the kindest of surgeons.

And real! ... Bernard could safely be severe because he loved so tenderly; and the more tenderly, the more robust'

(Journal of Theological Studies, Oct., 1939).

To the Lord Abbot Arnold, the spirit of compunction and counsel, from Brother Bernard of Chairvaux.

WANT you to know first of all that our lord of Citeaux had not I returned from Flanders where he had lately gone, passing by here, when your messenger arrived.

So he has not received the letters you instructed to be given him and is still ignorant of this novel venture you have taken upon yourself.

He is happy, even if it be for only a short time, to know nothing of the sad rumours that are going round.

And by forbidding me to attempt your recall, saying it would be useless for me to try to dissuade you by letter fron: what vou have, as it were, firmly settled with yourself, you have reduced me to despair.

In this matter I probably ought not in reason to obey you and, I confess, in any case, for the very grief I feel I could not do so; although, were I to know how to find you, I would come in person rather than write to you, perhaps to achieve more by my presence than I could by letter.

Confident in your own obstinacy and sure that no force, no prayers, no efforts whatsoever can turn you from your purpose, you probably smile at what you will consider my futile assurance.

But I trust in the power of him who has said, 'To him who believes all things are possible ', and I do not hesitate to apply to myself the words

TO ARNOLD, ABBOT OF MORIMOND

2I ' Nothing is beyond my power thanks to the strength God gives me'.

Although I know something of the obstinacy of your stony iene yet I wish I were by your side to persuade you even if I could achieve nothing.

Whether it would be of any avail I do not know, but I would lay before you the great reasons that compel me to oppose you,

T would plead with you not only by my words but also by my tears and sorrow. "I would throw myself at your feet, embrace your knees, hang upon your neck and kiss your dear head, that head which has been bowed with mine in a like purpose under the sweet yoke of Christ for so many years.

I would beg and implore you with tears, with all my might, in the name of the Lord Jesus first that you should spare his cross, the cross which redeemed those whom you are doing your utmost to destroy, the cross which gathered together those whom you are scattering.

I say advisedly destroy and scatter, for, whether they be those you are taking with you or those you are leaving behind, they are both in danger of an equal though different fate.

And then that you should spare us your friends for whom, quite undéservedly, you have left only tears and sorrow.

Were it only permitted me I would bend you by affection, if I could not convince you by reason!

That steely heart of yours, so far proof even against the fear of Christ, I would soften with the touch of brotherly affection!

But alas! even this opportunity you have taken from me.

2. Great support of our Order! listen, I beg you, even to an absent friend wholly opposed to your venture, yet sympathizing wholly with your difficulties and dangers.

Great support of our Order, have you no fear at all that with your fall the collapse of the whole structure will soon follow?

But, you say, I have not fallen.

I know quite well what Iam doing. My conscience is clear.

Be it so; I believe what you tell me of yourself.

But what about us who already groan under the heavy burden of scandal caused by your departure and who fear more to come?

Can it be that you know all this and yet pretend not to? How can you suppose yourself to stand when you are causing the fall of so many?

You were placed in a position of authority not for your own sake, but for the sake of others; not to promote your own interests, but to promote the interests of Jesus Christ.

How, I ask, can you possibly set forth with security when by so doing you deprive of all security the flock which has been entrusted to your care?

Who will be there to keep away the prowling wolves? Who will be there to console the aflicted and counsel the tempted? Who will hold at bay the raging and roaring lion that goes about seeking whom it may devour?

They will all be exposed, without any doubt, to the teeth of the evildoer who devours the children of God as if they were bread for the eating.

Alas! what will happen to those new plantations" of 1 The foundations of Morimond referred to here are:

Bellevaux in Haute-Sadne on March 22nd, 1120; La Creste, near Chaumont, on June 30th, tt21; Vieux-Camp, near Dusseldorf, on January 34st, 1123.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

Christ set by your own hand in 'the wilderness and fearful desert places'? Who will be there to dig them about and dung them?

Who will build a hedge round about them and prune away their untoward growth?

Either these still tender saplings will be easily uprooted by the first storms of trouble, or else for lack of anyone to clean the ground about them they will be choked by the weeds that grow up with them, so that they will bear no fruit.

3. Judge therefore for yourself what sort of good this can be which ou are seeking, or whether, involving as it does so many evils, it can be a good at all. However great the fruit of repentance you hope to bring forth, will it not be choked for certain by these thistles?

In fact, as the Scripture says, ' Even if you offer rightly, will you not sin if you divide not rightly'.

What of this? Perhaps you will say that you have divided rightly because you have consulted the good of your own soul.

But can you say this while knowing that you have deprived of a father's care those sons whom you have left behind and left orphans?

Unhappy and wretched are they, and all the more so for being deprived of their father while he is still alive!

You should have some doubts, to be sure, whether it is the good of your soul that you have consulted, seeing that you have presumed such an unheard-of thing without the advice of your brethren and brother abbots and without the licence of your father and master.

What upsets many is that you should have taken with you only weak boys and inexperienced youths.

Either they are strong and experienced men, in which case, they would be necessary for their orphaned house; or else they are, as I have said, weak and inexperienced, and therefore not fit for the long and tedious journey.

But I do not think you can still wish to rule over them as their superior, since I know you to be minded to lay down your pastoral charge and henceforth to care only for your own soul.

And indeed it would be most unfitting were you to presume to undertake, without being asked, in one place what in another with equal audacity you have given up against the will of your superiors.

But you know all this and so I conclude by promising you in all good faith that if you but give me the chance of speaking with you, I for my part will do what I can so that this venture you have undertaken against orders and therefore with great danger to your soul, you may be able to finish with permission and without disobeying your superiors.

LETTER 5

TO POPE CALIXTUS

This letter, concerning the vagaries of the Abbot of Morimond, is addressed to the "

Chief Pontiff C .

. ." and in the Benedictine edition by Mabillon is attributed to the year 1143, the initial C being understood as referring to

TO POPE CALIXTUS II

Pope Celestine IT (1143-1144) and the contents as concerning Abbot Raynald, the fourth Abbot of Morimond.

As the letter would seem clearly concerned with the vagaries of Abbot Arnold, after some hesitation (for D. Mabillon is not lightly to be suspected of error) we include it here.

In this case the Pope would be Calixtus II and not Celestine II.

See concerning this:

' Arnold of Morimond' by Watkin Williams, Journal of Theological Studies, October, 1939.

To the Supreme Pontiff Calixtus, the devoted obedience due from subjects, and all that the prayers of sinners can effect, from the little flock at Clairvaux.

W; are happy that you should hold the place of him who said that his daily burden was the care of all the Churches, because, although you are occupied with greater affairs, we have no fear that your Holiness will consider our insignificance beneath your notice; and indeed we are urged by the greatest necessity.

Nor can you listen with no concern to us, of whom you will one day hear, ' Inasmuch as you did it to one of these the least of my brethren, you did it unto me', Our cause concerns not us alone, but the whole of our

Order.

Your son, the father of us all, the Abbot of Citeaux, had he been at home, would either have come to your Majesty in person or he would have written under his own name concerning this wretched and deplorable affair.

So as not to keep your anxiety in any longer suspense we must tell you that one of our brother abbots, styled of Morimond, has ill-advisedly enough left the monastery over which he ruled and, impelled by a spirit of frivolity, has determined to set out for Jerusalem.

But first, they say, he will try whether he can, in any way, wring a licence from you for his blunder.

If you were to countenance him at all in this matter (which God forbid), consider, we implore you, how great an occasion of harm it would be to our

Order.

With such an example before him any abbot would believe himself at liberty to throw over the burden of his office as soon as it became irksome, and especially would this be the case with us where the burden seems great and the honour small.

And for the even greater desolation of the monastery committed to his charge, as if he had not done enough harm already, this abbot has taken with him, as companions in his vagaries, certain of the best and most perfect of those who were under him.

Nor is this all, for among those he has taken with him is that noble youth whom, as you will surely remember, he carried off from Cologne some time ago not without scandal and whom, with even greater scandal, he has presumed to take off with him again.

And if he says that he wishes to keep the observances of our Order in that land and for this reason has taken with him a crowd of brethren, who would not be able to see that what is wanted there is

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soldiers to fight not monks to sing and pray! And from this too our Order will take great mischief, since it may easily occur to anyone wanting to wander that he might set off there without danger to find the same way of life observed as he had professed at home.

But it is now for your discretion to decide and not for me to dictate how it shall please you to act in this matter, how it shall become your authority to judge it.

LETTER 6

TO THE MONK ADAM

Little seems to be known about the monk Adam beyond what may be learned from the following letters.

There is reason to believe that he mended his ways and died in the odour of sanctity. otH the humility which I know to be yours as well as the circumB stances of danger in which you are placed lend me courage to address you more sharply and rebuke you more freely than I would otherwise do. Who has beguiled you, senseless one, to depart so soon from the salutary resolutions on which you and I, with God our only witness, lately agreed? Do not be foolish, but see that you direct your steps in the way of God's law.

Have you forgotten how at Marmoutier you dedicated the first-fruits of your conversion; then how at Foigny you commended yourself to my care, such as it is; how at Morimond you confirmed your stability and then, again on my advice, how you frankly renounced the pilgrimage, or rather vagabondage, suggested by Abbot Arnold, deciding that if he could not lawfully set off, you could not lawfully accompany him? What then?

Do you now say that he set off lawfully after all when he went without even waiting for the permission of his superior and left behind such a deplorable scandal among those committed to his care?

2. What is the point, you will ask, of going over all this?

The point is to show you your manifest levity, to show you clearly that you say yes and no to the same thing; that I may oblige you to learn from the Apostle, even late in the day, not to believe every spirit, from Solomon to have many friends but only one in a thousand as counsellor, from the Lord's precursor not to wear soft raiment nor to be blown about by every doctrine like a reed in the wind; from the Gospel not to build your house upon sand, and with the disciples to combine the prudence of the serpent with the simplicity of the dove.

From these as well as from very many other texts of Scripture you should understand in how many different ways the tempter has deluded you and how, when he was unable to obstruct the beginnings of your conversion, he envied your perseverance and judged that if he could but rob you of this the one virtue that could assure you of the crown, his malice would be satisfied.

I implore you by the mercy of Christ

TO BRUNO OF COLOGNE

that you go not away at all, or at least that you first come to speak with me at a place convenient to us both that we may see what can be done to remedy all the evils I feel to have come from your departure or fear will soon come.

LE DI ERs

TO BRUNO OF COLOGNE

This Bruno, a friend of Bernard, subsequently became Archbishop of Cologne.

To the Lord Bruno, a man eminent and beloved, health, and whatever good the prayers of a sinner can bring, from Brother Bernard, styled

Abbot of Clairvaux.

VER since we lately met, with mutual pleasure, at Rheims, I do not E think I have ceased to hold a small place in your memory.

So I write to you whatever I want to say with complete confidence as to an old friend, not timidly as if to a stranger.

Arnold, the Abbot of Morimond, has deserted his monastery unlawfully and to the great scandal of our Order.

He left without waiting to consult his brother abbots on the thorny matter or even for the permission of the Abbot of Citeaux to whom he is especially bound by obedience.

A man under authority having under himself soldiers, he has become impatient of his allegiance and has proudly thrown off his neck the yoke of his superior, while even more proudly retaining his own on the necks of his subjects.

Of the great crowd of monks which, by encompassing sea and land, he had gathered together not for Christ's sake but for his own, he has taken with him, as companions in his error, the better and more perfect, and abandoned the more simple and least fervent.

Among these, there are three whose abduction especially troubles me; he has dared to lead off and lead astray Everard your brother,! Adam whom you know well, and the noble youth Conrad who lately, and not without scandal, he carried off from Cologne.

Iam fully confident that, should you endeavour to do so, you could by exerting yourself recall these men.

2. I would not have you waste any time over Arnold, I know too well the obstinacy of his character.

But I have heard that Adam and Everard, with sonic other brethren of the same company, are in your parts.

If this is the case, it behoves you, should you so deign, to visit them and persuade them by entreaty, and convince them by reason, instructing their dove-like simplicity with something of the serpent's prudence that they may understand they are not bound by obedience to one who is himself disobedient or by the Rule to one who is wandering abroad against the Rule, so as to abandon the Order of their profession for the sake of one who is disordered.

They should learn 1 Another text reads ' Our brother '.

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on apostolic authority, to hold anathema without hesitation, even an ane from heaven should he preach another gospel, and on the same authority to have nothing to do with any brother who leads a vagabond life. And you too, the same Apostle teaches, ' not to be high minded nor to put your hope in uncertain riches until Christ shall claim his true disciple, proved by the renunciation of all things for his sake.

LETIER 8

TO THE MONK ADAM

Abbot Arnold had just died when this letter was written.

Evidently the leadership of the party had devolved on Brother Adam, the same Brother

Adam to whom Letter 6 is addressed.

The implications of monastic obedience are discussed in it at great length, so that it is more a small treatise on the subject than a letter.

In a manuscript referred to by D. Mabillon it is, indeed, entitled De discretione Obedientiz.

Wi you still abiding in the charity which at one time I knew or thought abided in you, you could not but feel the condemnation of charity for the scandal you have caused to the weak.

Charity would not offend charity nor scorn when she is offended; she cannot be divided against herself, nor deny her own nature.

Rather is it her nature to unite again what has been divided.

If, as I have said, she abided in you and you in her, she would not be keeping silent, she would not be resting, or feigning ignorance, but she would be groaning, she would be on fire within you and clamouring, ' Who is scandalized and I am not on fire', for she is kind, and loves peace, and rejoices in unity.

It is she alone who begets unity, confirms it, binds it up, and preserves it in the bonds of peace.

Wherever charity is, there too is peace.

So, I ask you, how can you, when you have thus wounded the mother of unity and peace, dare to hope that your offering will be acceptable to God? The Apostle himself believes that even martyrdom without charity ' availeth nothing'.

How can you believe that you have not offended her whose very bowels and dear pledges you have lacerated by your brutal treatment of her? You have not spared her in the past, nor do you spare her now, but you rend unity and break the bonds of peace.

Lay down your offering by the altar and go first to be reconciled, not with just one brother, but with the whole multitude of brethren who have this against you and those few who are with you, that, as with a sword, you have wounded their peace and unity by your desertion.

They lament with the bride in the Canticle crying, 'The sons of my mother have fought against me', and rightly so, because being no longer joined in unity with them you are against them.

And do you think that charity, their loving mother, can hear without grief this just complaint of her children?

She joins

TO THE MONK ADAM

her tears with theirs and says of you:

' My own sons, that I have reared and brought to manhood, think to defy me'.

Charity is God himself.

Our peace is Christ, "who hath made two nations one'.

In the Trinity itself, unity is honoured. What share, therefore, can the enemy of charity, peace and unity have in the kingdom of Christ and God?

2. But perhaps you will say, 'My abbot commanded me to follow him. Would you have me disobedient?'

But you surely have not forgotten the decision we reached together when you first told me of the scandalous project which you were even then considering.

If only you had remained firm to that it might have been said of you not inaptly, " Blessed is the man who hath not walked in the counsel of the ungodly'.

But be it so, as you say.

Let us grant that as you were his sons and disciples you ought to have followed your abbot; that an abbot may lead his sons where it shall please him and teach them what he wishes—but surely not now that he is dead? Now that he is dead whose teaching you were bound to hear and in whose footsteps you were bound to follow when he was alive, why do you delay in setting right the great scandal you have caused? Who is now to prevent you hearing, I do not say myself, but God sweetly calling to you through the mouth of Jeremias: 'Shall not he that falleth rise again? And he that is turned away, shall he not turn again?'

Does he intrude even from the grave to prevent you rising again or daring to think that you should turn again? Now that he is dead is it necessary for you to obey him against charity and at the peril of your soul?

You would allow, surely, that the bond which links abbots with their disciples is not stronger than the bond which God has tied with an inviolable sacrament between husband and wife, according to the words of our Saviour himself: "What God has joined together let no man put asunder'?

Yet on the authority of the Apostle a woman is no longer tied to her husband when he is dead.

Do you then believe yourself still bound by the command of your abbot now that he is dead, against an even holier law, the law of charity?

3. [have not said this because I think you ought to have obeyed your abbot in this matter, even when he was alive; or that such yielding to him could even be called obedience.

That sentence from Scripture applies to all obedience of this kind:

' Feet that stray into the snare the Lord will punish as he punishes wrong doers'.

And so that no one should contend that this does not apply to obedience, even when it is in something evil, it says more clearly in another place: 'The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, and the father shall not bear the iniquity of the son'.

From this it is clearly apparent that no one is to be obeyed when he commands evil, especially as, although we may seem to be.obeying a man when we do so, yet really we are disobeying

God who has forbidden all evil.

It is extremely perverse to profess to be obedient by disobeying the higher for the sake of the lower, or

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in other words by disobeying the commandments of God for the sake of the commands of aman.

What then? Am I to turn a deaf ear to God when a man commands what he forbids?

Not so the Apostle who cried out:

'It is better to obey God than man'.

For this the Lord rebukes the Pharisees in the Gospels saying: 'Why do you transgress the commandments of God for the sake of your own traditions?' and by the prophet Isaias he says: 'In vain they worship me teaching the commandments and doctrine of men'; and again to the first man:

' Because thou hast harkened to the voice of thy wife rather than to mine, the earth is accursed in thy work'.

Therefore to do evil, command it who may, is to disobey rather than to obey.

4. Now so that you may understand me you must know that there are some things wholly good and others wholly evil, and in these latter there can be no obedience due to any man.

No one may forbid the former; no one may command the latter.

And between these two extremes there are middling things; things neither good nor evil, but indifferent.

And these things derive their character of goodness or badness from the circumstances of manner, place, and time.

It is in this sphere that the law of obedience obtains as in the tree of the knowledge of good and evil which was in the midst of Paradise.

In these things we may in no wise follow our own will so as to ignore the commands of our superiors.

Let us see now whether it is a thing such as this that I have rebuked in you, when, perhaps, on this account,

I should not have done so.

This will be all the clearer if I give some examples of the foregoing distinctions.

Faith, hope, charity, and the like are wholly good and it can never be wrong to enjoin them and never right to forbid or neglect them.

Wholly evil are theft, sacrilege, adultery, and the rest, which it can never be right to enjoin or to do and never wrong to forbid or not todo.

The law of obedience is not concerned with these, since no prohibition is valid against what has been laid down, and what has been forbidden cannot be recommended by the commands of anyone.

Then there are the middling things, neither good nor evil, and these can be indifferently, either well or ill, commanded or forbidden.

In these things obedience is never wrong.

As examples of them I give fasting, vigils, reading, and the like.

But you must know that some middle things can often become either wholly good or wholly evil.

Thus marriage is neither enjoined nor forbidden; but once contracted it cannot be dissolved. What, therefore, before the nuptials was clearly a middling thing, after them becomes, for the persons married, a thing wholly good.

Likewise, whether a secular person should hold property or not is a matter of indifference; but for a monk it is wholly evil, for he is not permitted to hold any property at all.

5. Do yousee now, brother, to which of my foregoing divisions your leaving the monastery belongs?

If it can be classed as wholly good, it

TO THE MONK ADAM

is praiseworthy; if as wholly bad, it is blameworthy.

But if it is to be classed between the two extremes as being neither good nor evil, then the going forth might be excused on the grounds of obedience, but not the delay in returning.

From what has been said already it should be quite clear to you that if your abbot commanded anything he ought not to have done, now that he is dead he is no longer to be obeyed.

This should be clear enough, but, for the sake of those who unreasonably seek opportunities to object, I will try to make it still more clear, so that there can be no shadow of doubt that it was not an indifferent matter, neither good nor evil, but wholly evil that you should have obeyed and left your monastery in the way you did.

But so that God shall not say of me with righteous anger, ' Men have taken away my judgement ', I shall not mention your abbot.

He now has God for his only judge and before his Lord he either stands or falls.

I will discuss not what he did, but what he ordered, so that we may see whether his orders had force to bind his subjects even in the teeth of the scandal they have given.

But first I will say this, if there be some, as I could well believe there are, who, although they did wrong to leave their monastery, yet did it in good faith, supposing their abbot to have had the permission of the Bishop of Langres and the Abbot of Citeaux, to both of whom he was subject, my rebuke does not touch them, providing they return to their monastery so soon as they learn the true facts of the case.

6. I speak only against those, or rather for the sake of those, who knowingly and deliberately have put their hands into the fire; who, though conscious of their audacity, yet followed the audacious one, heedless of the Apostle warning them to have nothing to do with a vagabond brother, and of the Lord himself saying:

' Who does not gather with me, scatters'.

You, brothers, you, I say, take particular heed of that taunt of Jeremias which I remember with grief:

' This is a people which hath not harkened to the voice of the Lord their God'.

For this is the voice of God authoritatively pointing out his enemy, as with a finger, to deter the simple from his ungodly example:

'Who is not with me', he says, " scatters', as if to say, if you follow him when he scatters abroad what I have gathered together, you can know that you are not with me.

When God himself cries out, 'Who does not gather with me, scatters', must you follow the scatterer?

When God, I say, invites you to gather, ought you to obey in preference a man so as to scatter?

He ignores his superiors, he betrays his subjects, he troubles his brethren, and yet you on seeing the thief ran with him!

I had intended to keep silent about the dead but I am obliged, I confess, to overstep a little my limit, because the obedience cannot be blamed without showing up the command as blameworthy.

Further, as both the command and the deed were united in the same man, it would appear impossible to blame the one

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without reflecting blame on the other.

Yet it is clear that this sort of command cannot be obeyed for to do so were to disobey God.

Also the ordinances of our fathers are to be preferred to those of lesser persons, and there can be no doubt that personal commands must not be obeyed if they conflict with the common observance, for all this is in the Rule of St. Benedict.

[might indeed bring forward the Abbot of Citeaux as complaining that you have ignored him in favour of your own abbot.

And he would have every right to complain for he is as much the superior of your abbot as a father is of his son, or the master of his disciple, or in fact an abbot of his monks.

I might also cite the Bishop of Langres for whom he showed inexcusable contempt by not awaiting his permission before setting out, even when the Lord has said:

* He who despises you despises me'.

But because the authority of the Roman Pontiff could be opposed and preferred to these as being more weighty, since they say that you have not omitted to fortify yourselves with his licence (this matter of licences I will deal with later), I will cite one whose authority no man may gainsay, the High Priest who, by his own blood, alone and once and for all entered into the sanctuary having obtained eternal redemption, and I will cite him crying with a great voice that no one shall dare scandalize one of his little ones.

But the scandalizing of one might be forgiven you if the evil rested there, for pardon comes speedily to the fault from which no great evil arises.

But now that, beyond doubt, many have been scandalized, who cannot clearly see how churlish you have been in obeying man rather than God?

Who, unless he were mad, would dare to call such an action as yours good or even middling, neither good nor bad, however great the dignity of the man who commanded it? But what is not good nor ever able to be good is, without doubt, wholly evil.

Consequently your journey forth from your monastery because it gave rise to the scandal of so many was, for this reason, against the command of God, and so it was not either wholly good or indifferent, but wholly evil.

For what is wholly good can never be anything but good, and what is between the two, neither good nor evil, can be good.

8. Since, as it has been shown, what is wholly evil can never be justly commanded or lawfully done, how, I ask you, can the command of an abbot or the permission of the Pope render it lawful?

When violation of God's law is involved the excuse of human obedience is futile.

Nor do I fear your taking refuge behind that answer the Lord gave when they told him of the scandal he had given to the Pharisees,

' Let them be, they are blind leaders of the blind ', as if on that account you need not worry about the scandal you have given us.

There is no comparison either between the persons or the causes.

Our Lord is speaking there of the scandal caused to the proud Pharisees, whereas you have given scandal to the humble poor of Christ.

And in his

TO THE MONK ADAM

Br case it was truth that caused the scandal, in yours it is frivolity.

Also, to repeat what has been said already, you have preferred not only human authority to divine, but private judgement to the common life.

But it should be proof enough for you that not only the whole of our Order, but also the usages and customs of every monastery cry out against your strange novelty and insolent audacity.

9. ' We have sought and obtained ', you say, ' an apostolic licence.'

I reply that this is just an indication that you were not easy in your mind or satisfied in your conscience.

What a futile expedient!

It is like the first man trying to cloak his shame with fig leaves, as if they were a remedy and not just a cover.

It would have been better had you sought the counsel rather than the consent of the Pope.

But why did you obtain this licence?

In order that you might lawfully do what it was not lawful for you to do?

But what is unlawful is evil.

Therefore the intention which inclined to evil, was evil.

Unless indeed you say that it was lawful for you to do with a licence what would not have been lawful otherwise.

But that argument has been utterly demolished further back.

When God said, ' See to it that you do not treat one of these little ones with contempt ', he did not add,

"unless you have permission of the Pope'; nor did he say, ' Whoever scandalizes one of these little ones without an apostolic licence

. ."!

It is clear that, except in the interests of truth, and there is no question of that in your case, it is never lawful for anyone to give scandal or to command what would give scandal.

You think it necessary to obtain a licence from the Pope in order to commit this sort of evil.

So that, I suppose, you may sin more impudently and therefore more perilously !

What wonderful caution!

What astonishing foresight!

The evil you conceived in your heart you were careful not to bring forth until you had secured a licence!

You conceived sorrow, but you did not bring forth iniquity until the Pope had given his consent.

But what have you gained? How is the evil lessened?

Does it, on account of the Pope's consent, cease to be evil or become a lesser evil?

As if anyone would think it was not evil to consent unto evil! I refuse to believe the Pope did this unless you got round him by lies or overwhelmed him by importunity.

How else could he have been induced to permit the sowing of scandal, the stirring up of schism, the upsetting of friends, the disturbing of peace, the disruption of unity, and the contempt of the bishop?

And all this for what purpose? There is no purpose in my saying for the results are a clear enough indication.

I bewailed your progression, but I have yet to see any progress. ro. You tell me that to assent to such great evils, to yield to them, to assist them, is to be obedient, modest, and meek. I tell you that you are simply cloaking the worst vices under the names of the virtues.

You call the most deceitful presumption, obedience; the most outrageous frivolity, modesty; the most cruel discord, meekness.

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By doing this you merely foul the holy names of the virtues.

This is not the sort of obedience I would want for myself; such modesty, I should say molestation, would not be for me; may such meckness be far from me!

Such obedience is worse than any haughtiness; such modesty exceeds all mode.

Shall I say it is beyond measure or not up to measure?

It would be perhaps more true and more pertinent to say that it is completely outside any measure.

What sort of meekness is this of which the very mention exasperates everyone?

Nevertheless I wish you would show a little meekness to me.

As you are so patient that you allow yourself to be dragged without complaining even where you ought not to go, permit me, I beg you, to be a little more bold with you, or else, if I alone am singled out for the object of your wrath, I have indeed deserved ill of you.

11. Iinvoke your conscience.

Did you set out from your monastery because you wanted to or unwillingly?

If because you wanted to, then it was not from obedience.

If unwillingly, then it would seem that you were doubtful about the order to which compliance was such a burden.

But when an order is in doubt, there should be inquiry.

Yet so that you might put your patience to the proof, or give a proof of your patience, without any inquiry whatsoever, you suffered yourself to be dragged off not only unwillingly, but even against your conscience.

Who would not be impatient with such patience!

I cannot help, I confess, being angry with such headstrong patience.

You saw your abbot scattering the flock and you followed with him; you saw him ordering scandal, and you obeyed him.

It is the nature of true patience to suffer and act against self-will, but not in excess of what is lawful.

I wonder how you heard the whispers of a man when you were deaf to the voice of God proclaiming in tones of thunder:

'Woe to the man through whom scandals come!'

Not only the voice of the Lord, but also his blood cries aloud with a terrible voice for even the deaf to hear.

The pouring of it forth is its cry.

It was poured forth for the scattered children of God that they might be gathered together in one fold, and justly it raises its voice against the man who would scatter again.

Concerned only to gather together, it abhors the man who scatters.

With a great and mighty cry it awakes the dead in their tombs and summons souls from below.

It is the voice of a trumpet calling heaven and earth together to give peace to both.

The sound of it has gone out to the ends of the earth, but it has not pierced your deafness.

That voice of power, that voice of glory, was powerless to pierce your deafness!

And what does it say?

'Let God arise, and let his enemies be scattered " and again:

' Scatter them by thy power; and bring them down, O Lord, my protector'.

It is the blood of Christ, Brother Adam, it is the blood of Christ which raises its voice for the faithful gathered together, against the impious one who would scatter them abroad.

The

TO THE MONK ADAM

blood which was poured forth to gather together those who had been scattered, threatens to scatter the men who would scatter what it has gathered together.

If you do not hear its voice, he hears it from whose side it flowed.

And how could he not hear the voice of his own blood, who heard the voice of the blood of Abel?

12.

° But what is all this to me?' you say.

' He should have looked to it who gave me the order.

It was not for me to contradict my abbot.

The disciple is not above his master.

I clove to him in order to be taught, not to teach.

I was the disciple and it was for me to follow, not to lead, my master.'

So you are another simple Paul !1

If only your abbot had been another Anthony, so that there would have been no need for you to inquire into anything he said, but simply to obey without question the slightest word that fell from his lips!'] What an obedient monk you are, you do not suffer one jot or one tittle of your senior's words to escape you: it is enough for you that a thing should be commanded that without pausing to question the command.

. .2And this is the true obedience without delay.

But if this sort of obedience were proper, then it would be useless to read in Church:

' Prove all things; hold fast that which is good'.

Were this sort of obedience becoming, then we should delete the words of Scripture, ' You must be prudent as serpents ', for it would be enough to have said ". .

. as simple as doves'.

I do not say that subjects should question the orders of their superiors when it is clear that they do not conflict with the divine ordinances, but I say that prudence is necessary in order to understand whether they do conflict, and freedom too in order candidly to ignore them if they do.

But you reply that it does not concern you to question the orders of your superiors; that they are responsible for their orders.

Tell me then, I beg you, were your abbot to place a sword in your hand and command you to cut his throat, or were he to tell you to push him headlong into the fire, would you obey? Would you not say that it would be murder even not to hinder such a thing? Come then and see to it that you have not co-operated in an even graver matter, under pretext of obedience.

You know who said (in case you do not believe me), 'If anyone scandalizes one of these little ones that believe in me, he had better be drowned in the depths of the sea'. Why did he say this if not to indicate that torments so great beyond the grave await those who give such scandal that in comparison temporal death seems a blessing rather than a punishment?

Why then did you co-operate in the scandal by obeying and following your abbot?

Would it not have been better for him that he should have been drowned in the depths of the sea with a millstone about his neck?

What then?

1The Paul here mentioned was the disciple of St. Anthony in Egypt about the year 300.

St. Anthony was called by St. Athanasius, who wrote his life, the model for monks and the founder of asceticism.

His disciple Paul was well known for his docility and childlike simplicity.

2 The MS. is here defective.

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O most obedient monk, so obedient that rather than part with your abbot for one second or by a palm's breadth, you followed him into the pit, not blindly but, like Balaam, with your eyes fully open; do you believe that you were acting for his good by showing such obedience, an obedience that was for him more grievous than. death?

Now indeed I understand the truth of those words:

' A man's enemies are of his own household'.

If you see and understand this, do you not groan and tremble for what you have done?

According to the judgement, not of myself, but of Truth, your obedience has been worse than murder.

13. If you know this, how can you not fear?

And if you are afraid, how is it you do not mend your ways?

Otherwise what sort of conscience will you bring before the dire judgement of God?

Then the judge will not want for a witness, then truth itself will search the intentions, then the scrutiny of faults will reach into the most hidden places of the heart, then the eye of God will search the most remote secrets of the mind.

Then the corners of the heart will expand under the sudden brightness of the sun of Justice and pour forth the good and bad which they were hiding.

Then, Brother Adam, those who have done evil and those who have consented to evil will receive a like penalty.

Then both thieves and their partners in guilt will await the same punishment.

Then both those who entice to sin and those who have allowed themselves to be enticed will receive a like judgement.

Go ahead then, Brother Adam, and say: I have touched pitch and yet I am not black, I have held fire to my bosom, and yet I am not burned.

Say that you have taken your portion with adulterers, and yet it is no business of yours.

Isaias thought differently.

He blamed himself not only for being unclean, but for keeping company with the unclean, saying:

" Woe is me because I am a man of unclean lips and I dwell in the midst of a people with unclean lips'. He blamed himself, I should have said, not because he lived with evil men, but because he did not blame the evils, for he says: 'Woe is me because I have held my peace'.

But where do we hear that he yielded to the evil which he blamed himself for not blaming in others?

And what about David?

Did he not believe that he could be infected with the sins of others when he said:

' Not mine to take part with wrong doers, not mine to mingle with the company they keep'?

And then he prays: 'From my secret sins cleanse me, O Lord, and from those of others spare thy servant'.

It is also clear that he declined the company of those whose evil he did not wish to share, for he says:

'T have not sat with the council of vanity, neither will I go in with the doers of iniquity'; and to this verse he adds:

'I have hated the assembly of the malignant, and with the wicked I will not sit'.

Finally Wisdom counsels us:

'If sinners entice thee, consent not to them '.

TO THE MONK ADAM

14. Did you really think that you ought to have obeyed anyone in the face of these and many other testimonies of truth?

"What hateful perversity!

Obedience which has hitherto always been the ally of truth, you have armed against it.

I should call happy the disobedience of Brother Henry.

He soon repented of his error and returned to his monastery without experiencing such obedience as yours.

How much more sweet and desirable is the fruit that he plucks of his disobedience and even now is tasting with a good conscience because, while his other companions are breaking the hearts of their brethren with the scandal they are causing, he is living peacefully among his brothers faithful to his Order and profession.

Had I to choose I would rather have his inactive disobedience with his good conscience than the zealous obedience of the others with the scandal.

I consider he does better thus preserving unity in the bonds of peace, disobedient to his abbot yet not to charity, than those others who for the sake of obedience to one man endanger the unity of all.

I would add with all assurance that it is better to endanger obedience, than to jeopardize all the benefits of piety and the vows of our profession.

15. Not to mention anything else there are two things handed down to us who dwell in monasteries for especial observance.

One is submission to the abbot, the other is stability in our monastery.

And these two are so to be observed that there is no conflict between them.

That is to say, we should not be led by our stability to disdain subjection to the abbot, or by our subjection to the abbot, to lose stability.

Further, if you abominate one who although persevering in stability yet ignores the commands of his abbot, can you wonder if I censure the obedience you adduce as the cause or occasion of your losing stability by leaving your monastery?

Especially as in our regular profession while stability is explicitly promised there is no mention at all of it being subject to the abbot.

16. But perhaps you will ask how I reconcile the stability I confirmed at Citeaux with living elsewhere.

I answer that while it is true I was professed a monk of Citeaux in that place and was sent by the abbot to live where I do, yet I was sent in peace, without any scandal or discord, according to the customs and common observance of our

Order.

Therefore so long as I persevere in the same peace and concord wherein I was sent, so long as I stand fast in unity,

Iam not preferring my private judgement to the common observance.

I am remaining quietly and obediently where I was put.

I say my conscience is at peace because I have not broken the bond of unity, because I have not left the firm ground of peace.

And if under obedience I am absent in body from Citeaux, yet by a fellow devotion, by a life in all things the same, I am always there in spirit.

But the day on which I begin to live by other rules (which may God forbid !) and other habits, to keep other observances, to introduce new things and follow different

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

customs, on that day I shall no longer believe I keep my promise of stability.

I say, therefore, that the abbot is to be obeyed in all things, but according to the tenor of our profession.

You, who were professed according to the Rule of St. Benedict, when you promised obedience, you promised as well stability.

So if you should be obedient, but not stable, by offending in one, you offend in all, and if in all, then also in obedience.

17. Do you now see the force of your vow of obedience?

'Ghatat cannot, in fact, suffice to excuse the transgression of stability, not even having the force to support itself.

We make our professions solemnly and according to Rule in the presence of the abbot, but only in his presence, not at his pleasure.

The abbot witnesses, but does not dictate the profession.

He is there to help, not to hinder, its fulfilment.

He is there to punish, not instigate, infringement.

What then?

Do I leave in his hands what I have confirmed by my mouth and hand before God and his saints, knowing from the Rule if I ever act otherwise J will be condemned by him whom I mock?

If my abbot, or even an angel from heaven, should command what is contrary to this, I shall boldly excuse myself from an obedience that I know would render me a transgressor of my vow and a perjurer before God.

I know from Scripture that out of my own mouth I shall be justified or condemned because 'the mouth that lies killeth the soul' and because we chant before God, 'Thou wilt destroy all that speak a lie', and because

' Everyone shall bear his own burden' and ' Everyone of us shall render an account of himself to God'.

Were it otherwise how could I dare to sing before God: 'I will render unto thee the vows my lips have uttered'?

It is the duty of my abbot to consider how he may best follow the explicit direction of the Rule that ' he should maintain the present rule in every particular'.

In the same way it is also laid down in the Rule as a general principle from which no one may be excused:

'Let all follow the Rule as their guide, and from it let no man rashly turn aside'.

And Ihave so determined to follow my abbot always and everywhere providing that he never by his teaching departs from the Rule which, in his presence,

I have vowed and determined to keep.

18. Let me now meet another question that might be raised, but briefly so as to bring this letter, which is already too long, to a close.

It seems at first that by receiving and keeping monks that come to me from other monasteries I act contrary to my own teaching.

It could be asked why I receive monks who break their vow of stability and ignore the commands of their seniors by coming to me when I condemn those who leave their monasteries not only with permission of their abbot but even by his order.

To this there is a short answer, but a perilous one.

I fear that what I am to say will displease some people.

But I think I would have more to fear for myself if, by not telling the

TO THE MONK ADAM

truth, I could no longer sing from my heart:

'I have not hid my righteousness within my heart: my talk has been of thy truth and thy salvation'.

Therefore I will say that I received them for the reason that I did not think they were wrong in leaving their monasteries, if they could not observe there the vows their lips have uttered, and coming to where they may be better able to render them to God who is everywhere, repairing the harm they have done by breaking their vow of stability by an exact observance of the others.

If there is anyone whom this does not please, and who murmurs against a man for seeking his own salvation, the author of all salvation shall answer him with the words:

'Is thine eye evil because his is good?'

O whoever you are who envies another his salvation, spare at least your own.

Have you not read:

' By the envy of the devil, death entered the world'?

Take heed for yourself.

If death and envy go together, you cannot envy and live. Why trouble your brother if he tries to honour the vows his lips have uttered?

What do you lose by a man seeking how and where he may best fulfil what he has promised to God?

Perhaps if he owed you a little money you would oblige him to encompass sea and land until the whole debt had been repaid even to the last farthing.

What then has your God deserved of you that you should not wish him too to receive his due?

In fact by envying one you have offended two.

While you deprive the Lord of his servant's service, you also deprive the servant of the grace of his Lord.

Why do you not imitate him by also paying what you owe?

Do you think that your debt too will not be required of you?

In fact you impiously anger God even more by saying: 'He will not require ic of me"

19.

' What ', you say, ' do you condemn all those who do not follow these monks into your Order?'

No, I do nothing of the sort.

But listen to what I have to say of them and do not make futile accusations.

Why do you try to make me hateful in the eyes of many thousands of holy men, who live under the same vows as | but not in the same manner, yet who live holy lives and make holy deaths? I know quite well that God has left to himself seven thousand men who have not bowed the knee to Baal.

Listen and attend to what I have to say, envious and calumnious man. I have already told you why I believe that those who come to us from other monasteries are to be received.

Does it follow that I condemn those who do not come?

Ihave excused those who do come but I have not accused those who do not. I only do not excuse the envious, for I cannot.

Leaving aside these, if there should be any who wish to change to the purity of the Rule but dare not for fear of scandal, or cannot on account of some bodily weakness,

I think they do not sin providing they live where they are soberly, honestly, and piously.

If by the customs of their monastery they cannot live so strictly as the Rule would scem to require, they will

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

probably be excused either on account of their charity which holds them back from hastening to something better for fear of giving scandal, according to the words of Scripture, 'Charity covers a multitude of sins ', or else on account of their humility by which they are conscious of their own infirmity and deem themselves imperfect on that account, and of such it has been written: 'God gives grace to the humble'.

20. I have said much to you, beloved, without there being any need for many words in your case, for I know well how quick you are to understand and how prompt you are to follow good advice.

But although I have addressed myself to you especially, I have not written at such great length especially for you, but for those who need it.

But I do warn you, as one who has been now for long well known to me, with few words and the fullest confidence, not to keep the souls who need you in any longer suspense, to the fearful peril of your own soul.

You hold in your hand the fates of yourself and, unless I am deceived, of those who are with you.

I believe they will follow you in whatever you do or wish to be done.

Otherwise do not hesitate to proclaim to them the sentence of excommunication, which none can ignore, passed on them by all the abbots in Chapter: "Who return shall live, who refuse shall die '.1

LETEER?9

TO BRUNO, ARCHBISHOP-ELECT OF COLOGNE

The same Bruno as Letter 7 is addressed to.

In spite of the doubts of St.

Bernard he accepted the Archbishopric of Cologne.

He was consecrated in the year 1132 and died in Italy four years later.

He left a reputation for great learning. ou ask my advice, most illustrious Bruno, whether you should

YY viea to those who would raise you to the episcopate.

But what mortal would venture to decide such a matter?

Perhaps God calls you, and then who would dare to dissuade you?

Perhaps he does not call you, and then who would dare to persuade you?

But whether or not he does call you, who can tell save the Spirit, who can search even the hidden things of God, or one to whom God himself might perhaps reveal it?

The humble but terrible confession you make in your letter, accusing your past life so gravely yet not, I believe, untruly, renders advice on the matter even more doubtful.

It cannot be denied that the sort of life of which you accuse yourself is not worthy of the sacred ministry.

But again you are afraid, and not without reason, for I also fear the same thing, that you might do wrong if you did not trade with the talent of knowledge which has been committed to you,

1This was the Chapter held in 1124, when St. Bernard was instructed to recall the fugitives.

See Statuta Capitulorum Generalium Ordinis Cisterciensis, ed. D. Josephus Canivez, Louvain a work of superb erudition and interest.

TO BRUNO, ARCHBISHOP-ELECT OF COLOGNE

because you feel unworthy; unless there is some other sphere in which you could use it, less fruitfully perhaps, but also with less peril.

I confess (for I must tell you what I feel in the matter) that I tremble for you when I consider from what depths you are being called to such heights, especially as there is no time for you to prepare yourself by penance for the perilous transition.

And indeed right order requires that you should learn to look after yourself before you undertake the care of others.

It is written that the first step in piety is to 'have pity on your own soul, pleasing God'.

And from this an orderly charity proceeds on right lines to the pity of others, inasmuch as it is laid down that we should love others as we love ourselves.

But were you to love others as you have hitherto loved yourself, I for one would not wish to be committed to your care.

Learn first to love yourself, and then you can love me.

2. But what if God were to hasten his graces and multiply his mercies so that your innocence is restored to you more effectively by his prompt compassion than it would be by years of penance, according to the words:

' Blessed is the man to whom the Lord hath not imputed his sin'. Who shall indict the elect of God? Who is he that condemns if God justifies?

The good thief took this short way to salvation.

On one and the same day he confessed his sin and was brought to glory, satisfied to use the cross as a short bridge from the state of otherness! into the land of the living, from the filth of this life to the paradise of delights.

And the sinful Magdalen was also blessed with this same prompt remedy of piety, when grace began immediately to abound in her soul where iniquity had superabounded.

Without any great labour of penance many sins were forgiven her because she had loved much, and in-a short time she deserved to receive the abundance of charity which covers a multitude of sins.

And the paralytic in the Gospels immediately experienced the double favour of being cured first in his soul and then in his body.

3. But it is one thing to obtain immediate forgiveness 'of sins and quite another to step immediately from enormities into the bishop's throne.

I see Matthew raised immediately from the seat of custom to the dignity of an Apostle, but what disturbs me here is that he did not immediately hear with the other Apostles: "Go ye into the whole world and preach the Gospel to every creature'.

Before hearing this he had first to do penance by enduring with the Lord in his trials and by following him for a long time and with great labour whithersoever he went. If Ambrose occurs as an example of one who was raised immediately from the secular tribunals to the dignity of 1 De regione dissimilitudinis.

This is almost a technical phrase with St. Bernard.

Created by God in his own likeness, man has become disfigured by sin and so exiled from the land of Likeness to God to the land of Unilikeness .

. Regio dissimilitudinis.

Actually the phrase is taken from St. Augustine (Confessions, Book vii, ch. 10), but St. Bernard makes a very personal use of the expression.

See St. Bernard, Sermo * de diversis', XLII.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

the priesthood, it is no comfort because from boyhood he had lived in the world but not of the world and, deeming himself unworthy of the dignity, he tried to avoid it by flight, by hiding himself, and by other ruses.

If Saul becoming immediately Paul the vessel of election and Doctor of the Gentiles is cited, the example lacks force because although he sinned, he did so, as he himself tells us, in ignorance and firm incredulity.

Although there may be other good and excellent instances of what the Scriptures call ' the change of the right hand of the Most High', they are to be regarded more as miracles of grace than examples to be followed.

4. For the time being you must be satisfied with this provisional answer.

I cannot give you a certain answer because I am myself uncertain about the matter.

And unless a Prophet is consulted this must always be the case.

Clear water cannot be drawn from a muddy pond.

But there is one thing we can always do for a friend without any danger and with great advantage, and that is to offer him such help as our prayers to God can achieve.

Leaving therefore to God his hidden counsels, of which I am ignorant, I pray him with humble devotion and devout humility to bring to pass in you and for you what most becomes his glory and your good. You have Father

Norbert! to consult quite near you.

As he lives closer to God he would be better able to know his hidden mysteries.

Pil Bieero

TO THE SAME, NOW ARCHBISHOP OF COLOGNE

HAVE received with devotion the letter of your Grace and I have been careful to do what you asked.

It will be for your Grace to judge how far I have been successful.

But enough of this.

I am writing what follows in the same spirit of charity.

If it is certain that all who are called to the ministry are also called to the Kingdom of heaven, then the Archbishop of Cologne has nothing to fear.

But if it is true that Saul was called to the kingship and Judas to the priesthood by no other than God himself; and the evidence of Scripture cannot be gainsaid; then the Archbishop of Cologne has every reason to fear.

And if, as is indeed true, the sentence of Scripture still holds good for to-day, that not many noble, not many mighty, not many wise according to the flesh are chosen, has not the Archbishop of Cologne a threefold cause to fear?

Let us in high places have a care that we become not high minded, but walk with the humble, and fear.

'Have they made you ruler?' says Scripture. 'Be among them as one of them'.

And again: 'The greater thou art, humble thyself the more in all things'.

Very wise is this counsel and not other than the words of Wisdom himself saying:

' He that is greater among you, 1 This is St. Norbert, the founder of the Premonstratensian Order.

TO BRUNO, ARCHBISHOP OF COLOGNE

4I let him become as the younger'.

Otherwise 'a most severe judgement shall be for them that rule', so let the powerful fear. And the servant who knows the will of the Lord but does it not, shall be beaten with many stripes; so let the man of letters fear.

And let the noble also fear, for the judge of all is no respecter of persons.

This three-strand rope of necessary fear is difficult to break.

Does it seem hard that I do not flatter you, but incite you to fear, that for my friend

I wish the beginning of wisdom?

It is my wont ever thus to favour my friends, inciting them with wholesome fear rather than with deceitful flattery, and to this 1 am urged by the words, ' Blessed is the man that is always fearful', and I am recalled to it by him who says:

'O my people, they that call thee blessed, the same deceive thee '.

LETTER 11

TO THE SAME

LTHOUGH by reason both of the office you hold and of the Apostolic A injunction, your Grace is bound to punish so shocking an infamy yet, in such a grave matter, I do not think that the admonition of a friend would come amiss.

In such a matter as this I would wish one who is both a father and a friend to be advised that he should punish with the zeal that the occasion demands, so that not only this present outrage may be penalized, but that any malicious person hearing of it may be restrained from a like rashness.

LETTERS

TO THE PRIOR GUY AND OTHER RELIGIOUS OF THE GRANDE CHARTREUSE

Guy was the fifth Prior of the Chartreuse (1109-1136) and became the organizer of the Order.

He codified the observances of his House in a book of customs for the benefit of other foundations.

The Scale of the Cloisters and a book of Meditations are also attributed to him.

He died in 1137, leaving a reputation for great sanctity.

To the most reverend of fathers and most dear of friends, Guy, Prior of the Grande Chartreuse, and the other saints who are with him, eternal life, from Brother Bernard of Clairvaux.

RECEIVED the letters of your Holiness with a delight equalled only by I my longing eagerness for them.

I have read them and mused upon them and they have fired my heart like so many sparks from the fire which the Lord came to spread over the earth.

How great must have been the fire burning in your meditations to have sent out such sparks as these!

Your burning and kindling greeting seemed to me, I confess, to have come, not from man, but from him who * sent word

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

to Jacob'.

It was no ordinary greeting such as one gives in passing on the road, or from habit; I could feel it came from the heart, a welcome and unexpected benison.

May the Lord bless you for troubling to meet me, your child, with such a blessing in your letter to me that you have given me the courage to write back to you, after I had for so long wanted to, but not dared.

For I was loath to harass your holy peace in the Lord, to disturb even for one moment your unbroken silence from the world, the whispers of your heavenly converse, by my uncalled-for scribbling; or to distract with my own affairs your ears absorbed in celestial praises.

I feared lest by so doing I should be as one disturbing Moses on the mountain, or Elias in the desert, or Samuel watching in the temple.

When Samuel cries, ' Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth', should I dare to push myself forward? I feared lest I should be as one troubling David when he was taking to himself the wings of a dove to fly away far off, and hear the angry words: 'Let me be.

I cannot hear you.

I would sooner listen to what I can hear with greater pleasure:

"I will hear what the Lord will speak in me; for he will speak peace unto his people and unto those whose hearts are turned towards him'.

Or even:

'Depart from me, ye malignant; and I will search the commandments of my God" '. What?

Should I be rash enough to wake the bride sleeping gently in the embraces of the Bridegroom for so long as she wishes?

I think I would thereupon hear from her the words, 'Do not trouble me.

'"' My beloved to me and I to him who feedeth among the lilies." '

2. But what I do not dare, charity does.

She knocks confidently on the door of a friend, knowing that she is the mother of friendships and will not be repulsed.

Sweet as your leisure is, she does not fear to disturb it a little on her business.

She it is who, whenever she wishes, can draw you away from your contemplation of God for her own sake; and it was she who, when she wished, made you attentive to me, so that you have not thought it at all beneath you, not only to bear with me when I am speaking, but moreover kindly to encourage me to speak when Iam silent.

I embrace your goodness, I admire your condescension, I praise and venerate the purity of your intention which leads you to rejoice in the Lord for what you consider my progress.

I glory in the testimony you have given me of your good will, in your spontaneous friendliness.

It is now my joy, my glory, and the delight of my heart that I have not lifted my eyes in vain to the hills from which I have already received so much help. From these hills a sweet dew has come down: may it still come until our valleys are filled with corn.

It will ever be for me a day of joy and a day worthy of lasting remembrance on which I was honoured to see and welcome that worthy man through whom I was received into your affections.

Although it is clear from your letters that you had received me into

TO THE PRIOR OF THE GRANDE CHARTREUSE

your affections even before this, yet now I understand it will be with an even closer and more intimate affection, since he has told you certain favourable things about me which he doubtless believed, although without sufficient cause.

Far be it from such a religious and good man to have said anything but what he believed to be true.

So I have now found out for myself the truth of those words of our Saviour:

* He who gives a just man the welcome due to a just man, shall receive the reward due to a just man'.

The reward due to a just man is to be thought just, for no other reason that than he has received a just man.

If he has said anything else about me then he was judging me, not according to the facts, but according to his own goodness.

You have listened to him, you have believed him, you have rejoiced in what he said, you have written to me, and thereby you have gladdened me not a little, not only because I have won a place and no small place in your affections, but also because you have shown me something of the purity of your own soul.

In a few words you have shown me for certain of what spirit you are.

3. I rejoice on my own account and on yours; I congratulate you on your charity, and myself on the profit my soul has derived from it.

For that is a true and sincere charity to be attributed entirely to a pure heart and unfeigned faith which leads us to love our neighbours' good as well as our own.

The man who loves his own good in preference to his neighbours' good or who loves only his own good proves, by the very fact that his love is not disinterested, that he does not love the good with a chaste love.

Such a one could not obe the Prophet when he says:

'Praise the Lord because he is good'.

He may praise the Lord because he is good to himself, but not because he is Goodness itself.

And he should know that the same Prophet is casting a reproach at him for this when he says:

' He will praise thee when thou do well to him'.

There are those who praise the Lord because he is powerful, and these are slaves and fearful for themselves; there are those who praise him because he is good to them, and these are hirelings secking themselves; and there are those who praise him because he is Goodness itself, and these are sons doing homage to their father.

Both those who fear for themselves and those who seek themselves are acting only for themselves; only the love of a son seeks not itself.

On this account, I think that the words ' The Law of God is unspotted ' refer to charity, because it alone can turn the heart from love of self and the world, and direct it to God alone.

Neither fear nor love of self can turn the soul to God; they may sometimes change the aspect or influence the actions of a man, but they will never change his heart.

Even the slave sometimes does God's work, but because he does not do it willingly he proves that his heart is still hard.

And the hireling too will sometimes do God's work, but because he only does it for reward, he is known to be attracted only by his greed. Where

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

there is selfsecking, there too is self-esteem; where there is self-esteem, there too is private interest; and where private interest makes a corner for itself there rust and filth will collect.1

Let fear itself be the law of a slave, by it he is bound; let greed be for the hireling his law, by it he also is confined when by it he is led offand enticed away.

Neither of these two laws is unspotted, neither can turn the soul to God; only charity can do this, because she alone can render a soul disinterested.

4. I would call his charity unspotted who never keeps anything of his own for himself.

When a man keeps nothing of his own for himself, everything he has is God's, and what is God's cannot be unclean.

Therefore the unspotted law of God is charity, which seeks not what may benefit itself, but what may benefit many.

Charity is called the law of the Lord, either because the Lord himself lives by it or else because none may have it except by his gift. Let it not seem absurd that I should have said even God lives by law, for I have also said that the law is nothing else but charity.

What else but charity preserves that supreme and unspeakable unity in the blessed Trinity?

Charity is therefore a law, and it is the law of the Lord holding together, as it were, the Trinity and binding it in the bonds of peace.

Yet let no one think that I speak of charity here as if it were a quality or something accidental to the Godhead, as if I were saying (may it be far from me to say any such thing!) that there was something in God which is not God; but I say that charity is the divine substance itself.

And there is nothing new or strange about this, for St. John himself has said, 'God is charity'.

It follows that charity can be correctly said to be both God and the gift of God; that charity gives charity; the substance of charity, the quality of charity.

When we speak of the giver we mean the substance; when we speak of the gift we mean the quality.

This is the eternal law, the creator and ruler of the Universe, since through it all things were made in weight, measure, and number.

Nothing is left without law, since even the law of all things is not without a law, yet a law not other than itself for, although it did not create itself, it nevertheless rules itself. s. The slave and the hireling also have a law, a law not from God, but which they make for themselves; the one by not loving God and the other by loving something more than God.

They have, I say, a law, but a law of their own, not of God, yet a law which is, nevertheless, subject to the law of God.

Anyone can make a law for himself, but he cannot withdraw it from the immutable order of the eternal law.

But anyone who thus makes a law for himself is perversely trying to imitate his Creator by ruling himself, and making his own self-will a law for himself, just as God is his own law and subject only

* Porro ubi proprietas, ibi singularitas; bi autem singularitas, ibi angulus; ubi vero angulus, ibi sine dubio sordes sive rubigo.

Literally:

' Where there is proprietorship, there is singularity; where there is singularity, there is a corner; where there is a corner, there without doubt is filth or rust'.

TO THE PRIOR OF THE GRANDE CHARTREUSE

to himself.

Alas! what a heavy and insupportable burden is this on the children of Adam; we are bowed down and bent under it, so that our lives are dragged down nigh to hell.

' Unhappy man that I am, who will deliver me from the body of this death', by which I am so oppressed that unless the Lord had helped me, I would almost have dwelt in hell. He too was groaning under this burden who said:

* Why hast thou set me opposite to thee, and I am become burdensome to myself'.

When he says, 'I am become burdensome to myself', he shows that he has been a law unto himself, and that no other than he himself had done this.

But when, speaking of God, he says, ' Why hast thou set me opposite to thee', he shows that he has not escaped from the law of God.

It is the property of the eternal law of God that he who will not be ruled sweetly by him, shall be ruled as a punishment by himself; that he who, of his own will, throws off the sweet and light yoke of charity shall unwillingly suffer the insupportable burden of his own self-will.

6. And so in a wonderful way the eternal law keeps the renegade both ' opposite itself' and yet subject to itself, so that he is neither able to evade the Jaw of justice nor to rest in the peace and light of God,

He remains subject to the power of God and yet far removed from happiness.

O Lord, my God, why dost thou not take away my sin, why dost thou not remove my iniquity, so that I may cast off the burden of my self-will, and breathe again under the light yoke of charity, no longer forced by servile fear nor enticed by the hireling's Just for gain? Why am I not led by thy spirit, the spirit of liberty, the spirit which leads thy sons, and which bears witness to my spirit that while thy law is also mine, I too am one of thy sons; and as thou art, so also may I be in this world.

For it is certain that those who fulfil the words of the Apostle and ' owe no man anything except to love him' are in this world even as God; not hirelings nor yet slaves but sons.

Therefore neither are the sons of God free from law, unless anyone should think differently on account of the words, ' The law is not made for the just'.

But it should be understood that the law promulgated in fear by the spirit of slavery is one thing, and the law given graciously by the spirit of liberty is quite another.

Sons are not bound by the former, but neither are they suffered to live without the latter.

Listen to why the law is not made for the just, " because ', says Scripture, " you have not received the spirit of bondage again in fear'.

Listen also to why the just are under the law of charity:

'You have received the spirit of the adoption of sons'.

And now hear the just man admitting that he is at once not under the law and not without law: 'I became to those that are under the law, as if 1 were under the law (whereas myself I am not under the law), that I might gain them that were under the law.

To them that are without the law, I became as if I were without the law, whereas I was not without the

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

law, but was in the law of Christ.'

Hence, ' The law is not made for the just' does not mean that the just are without law, but that the law is freely and lovingly accepted by them from him who graciously inspired it and not imposed on them against their wills.

Wherefore the Lord has beautifully said, 'Take my yoke upon you', meaning that he does not impose it on us against our will, but that we can take it on ourselves if we wish, and if we do not we shall find labour and not peace for our souls.

| 7. Good and sweet is the law of charity, not only light to bear, but also an easement of the law of slaves and hirelings.

For it does not destroy these laws, it brings them to perfection, according to Our

Lord's words: 'I have not come to set aside the law, but to bring it to perfection'.

Tempering the one and controlling the other, it eases both.

Charity will never be without fear, but a chaste fear; nor ever without self-interest, but an ordered self-interest.

It brings the law of the slave to perfection by inspiring it with devotion; and also the law of the hireling, by controlling self-interest.

When devotion is mixed with fear it does not nullify it, but amends it; it takes from it the anguish which it never lacks when it is servile, and renders it chaste and filial.

The words ' Perfect charity casteth out fear' must be understood as meaning that it removes the anguish which, as I have said, is never lacking to fear so long as it is servile.

It isa common mode of speech, putting the cause for the effect. And the self-interest inherent in the law of the hireling is controlled by charity, so that it entirely rejects what is evil, prefers what is better to what is good, and what is good only for the sake of what is better.

And, when this is fully effected in the soul by the grace of God, the body and all created good are only loved for the sake of the soul, and the soul only for the sake of God, and God for his own sake.

8. Because we are flesh and blood born of the desire of the flesh, our desire or love must start in the flesh, and it will then, if properl directed, progress under grace by certain stages until it is fulfilled in the spirit, for ' that was not first which is spiritual, but that which is natural; afterwards that which is spiritual ', and we must first bear the image which is earthly and afterwards that which is heavenly.

At first a man loves himself for his own sake.

He is flesh and is able only to know himself.

But when he sees that he cannot subsist of himself, then he begins by faith to seek and love God as necessary for himself.

And so in the second stage he loves God, not yet for God's sake, but for his own sake.

However when, on account of his own necessity, he begins to meditate, read, pray, and obey, he becomes accustomed little by little to know God and consequently to delight inhim. When he has tasted and found how sweet is the Lord he passes to the third stage wherein he loves God for God's sake and not for his own.

And here he remains, for I doubt whether the fourth stage has ever been

TO THE PRIOR OF THE GRANDE CHARTREUSE

fully reached in this life by any man, the stage, that is, wherein a man loves himself only for God's sake.

Let those say who have experienced it; I confess that to me it seems impossible.

It will come about, doubtless, when the good and faithful servant shall have been brought into the joy of his Lord and become inebriated with the fulness of the house of God.

For he will then be wholly lost in God as one inebriated and henceforth cleave to him as if one in spirit with him, forgetful, in a wonderful manner, of himself and, as it were, completely out of himself.

9. I consider the prophet to have felt this when he said: 'I will enter into the powers of the Lord; O Lord, I will be mindful of thy justice alone'.

He certainly knew that when he would enter the spiritual powers of the Lord, he would leave behind him all the frailties of the flesh, so that he would no longer have to think any more of them but would be wholly occupied with the justice of God.

Then each of Christ's members will be able to say for himself what St. Paul said of their head:

' We have known Christ according to the flesh, but now we know him so no longer'.

For no one will know himself there according to the flesh because ' flesh and blood cannot possess the kingdom of God'.

I do not say that the substance of the flesh will not be there, but that every carnal need will be absent, that the love of the flesh will be absorbed in the love of the spirit, and that what are now weak human affections will be transformed into divine powers.

When charity shall pull up on to the shore of eternity the net which she is now drawing through this vast and great sea so as to bring in without ceasing every sort of fish, she will then cast aside the bad and keep only the good.

For in this life her net keeps every sort of fish within its ample folds and she accommodates herself to all making, in a sense, her own all the good and evil fortunes of everyone, not only so as to rejoice with the glad but also to weep with the afflicted.

When she shall have come to shore everything that she has hitherto borne with sorrow she will cast aside as evil fish, retaining only what gives her pleasure and happiness.

Will St. Paul, for example, then become weak with the weak or on fire for the scandalized, when all scandals and all weaknesses are done away?

Or will he weep for those who have not repented where it is certain that as there will be no one who sins, so there will be no one to repent?

Far be it from him to mourn for those who are condemned to eternal fames with the devil and his angels, in the city of God ' which the stream of the river maketh glad' and the ' gates of which God loves above all the tents of Jacob'.

Because, although there may sometimes be rejoicing over victory in tents, yet there is also the labour of battle and often danger to life.

But in that home-land no adversity or sorrow is admitted according to those words which are sung of it:

' All the world rejoicing finds its dwelling place in thee' and ' Everlasting joy shall be unto them'.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

And then how can there be any recollection of mercy where only the justice of God is remembered?

Where there will be no place for misery or time for mercy, there can be no feeling of compassion.

10. I feel myself driven to compose a long discourse by my insatiable desire to speak to you, my most dear brothers, but there are three things which indicate that it is time for me to finish.

The first is that I fear more than anything to become a burden to you.

The second is that 1am ashamed of my wordiness.

The third is that I am hard pressed by the cares of my household.

Finally I beg you to have pity on me.

If you have rejoiced over the good you have only heard about me, have compassion on the evils that are real.

Perhaps the good man who told you such favourable things about me saw certain small things and made of them something great.

And you, in the goodness of your heart, found no difficulty in believing what you were so glad to hear.

I give thanks for your charity which ' believeth all things '; but I am abased to the dust for the truth which knows all things.

I want you to believe what I, rather than another, who sees only the surface, say of myself: 'No man knoweth the things of a man, but the spirit of a man that isin him'. I tell you, therefore, who speak of myself from experience and not from conjecture, that I am not as I am believed or said to be.

I say this with an assurance supported by the proof of experience, so that I would prefer to obtain nothing more by your special prayers than to be such as your letters make me out to be.

LETTER 13

TO THE SAME

It is impossible to say when precisely this letter was written, but internal evidence would seem to indicate some time during the Papal Schism

(1130-1138).

To the most dear Lord and reverend Father Guy, Prior of the Chartreuse, and to the holy brothers who abide with him, the humble duty of Brother Bernard of Clairvaux.

BS let me tell you that it was the troubles and evils with which I had to contend that kept me from coming to see you when I was in your neighbourhood.

Although you may be satisfied with this, I confess that I am very far from being so.

I am vexed with the affairs that rendered my visit to you not unsought, but impossible, but this often happens and so I am often vexed.

Would that I were deserving of the pity of holy men for without it, a pitiful object undeserving of pity, I am doubly pitiful.

I feel that I hold a place in your brotherly affections, but that I do not deserve it. Have pity on me, I beg not because I deserve it, but because I am poor and needy. Justice seeks

TO POPE HONORIUS II

out the merits of the case, but pity only regards the need.

True pity does not judge, it gives; it does not deliberate, it solaces; it does not seek for reasons, it is moved by affections.

When Samuel mourned for Saul, he was moved not by reason but by pity. When David shed tears for his parricide son, they were fruitless, but they were loving.

Therefore do you have pity on me, not because I deserve it, but because T need it. Have mercy on me as those who have already received mercy from the Lord, so that, far from the upheavals of the world, you may serve him peacefully and without fear.

Ah!

Happy are those who during evil times are hidden in the house of the Lord, who under thie shadow of his wings are able to await in hope their passing.

As for me, unhappy man, naked and poor, it is my lot of labour.

An unfledged nestling, I am obliged to spend most of my time out of my nest exposed to the tempests and troubles of the world.

I am shaken and upset like unto a drunken man, and cares devour my conscience.

So once more I say have pity on me who certainly need it, even if I do not deserve it.

LETTER 14

TO POPE HONORIUS

The Alberic mentioned in this letter was a master at the Cathedral School of Rheims, and famous for his learning and prudence.

He was nominated to the bishopric of Chdlons in the year 1126, but was never consecrated.

Later he became Archbishop of Bourges, in the year 1139, and died in 1141.

To the Supreme Pontiff Honorius, from a certain brother, by profession a monk, in life a sinner, his humble duty. t is said that the prayers of the poor are of more avail with your

I Holiness than the presence of the powerful. Taking courage from this holy report I have no fear in addressing myself to your Highness, especially on a matter prompted by charity.

I write, my Lord, of the Church of Chélons, for I cannot and ought not to conceal the peril which threatens it. We who are in the neighbourhood see and feel that the peace of this renowned Church is already threatened and will be soon grievously disturbed if the confirmation of your holiness for the election of that excellent man Master Alberic, who is supported by the suffrages of both the clergy and the town, cannot be obtained.

I believe, if my own opinion in the matter is of any value, Master Alberic to be a man of irreproachable faith and doctrine, prudent alike in divine and human affairs, and I have every hope that, should he be chosen by God, he will be a vessel of honour in his house, and a credit to the whole Church in France.

It is for your Holiness to determine whether it is becoming to entreat a dispensation from you in favour of one from whom so much can be expected.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 15

TO THE SAME

This letter concerns the affairs of the monastery of St. Benignus, where St.

Bernard's mother was buried before her body was removed to Clairvaux.

St. Bernard and other writers of his time often refer to a monastery as the 'church' of its district.

Here the Monastery of St. Benignus is called the church of Dijon because it was the first church of the town.

The quarrel referred to concerned the churches of Clermont and Vignory.

To the Supreme Pontiff Honorius, health and all that the prayers of a sinner can avail, from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

O° Blessed Lord, whom I fear in you, knows with how great a fear I write to you.

But the Lady Charity gives me courage for she it is who commands us both.

I have undertaken to petition your Holiness on behalf of the church of Dijon, but I am rather doubtful what precisely I should ask. Just as it is iniquitous to attempt anything against justice by purse or prayer, so it is superfluous to exert oneself on behalf of justice before a lover of justice.

But, although I do not know exactly what it would be best for me to ask, I am yet sure that your own good will, especially towards religious, will not suffer you to remain idle in this matter.

What would be revealed by the prudent and careful examination of the facts by your Holiness, I cannot say; but I have heard and still hear it said that it is a long-standing and unshaken tenor of the church of Dijon which the people of Luxueil are contesting, and that their unfounded claim is causing great surprise and indignation among the oldest inhabitants of the neighbourhood.

EEPIER +6

TO CARDINAL HAIMERIC

To the most illustrious Lord Haimeric, Chancellor of the Apostolic See, that he may forget the things that lie behind and with the Apostle look forward to those which are before, from Bernard of Clairvaux.

Ver affection for me is not hidden from our friends and, were I to keep the fruit of so great a happiness to myself, they would be envious of me.

The monks of Dijon are very dear to me, because theirs is so venerable a foundation.

May they learn, if it please you, that neither your love for me nor my love for them is fruitless, saving in all things justice, against which it would not be right to invoke the help even of a friend.

TO PETER, CARDINAL PRIEST IN CURIA

LETTER 17

TO PETER, CARDINAL PRIEST IN CURIA

To his very dear Lord Peter, Cardinal Priest, eternal life, from Brother Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

T is not my cause that I plead before your Eminence, but the cause of I the monks of Dijon, which I have made my own because they are religious men.

Take it up, I beg you, as if it were my own; and as much mine as it is the cause of justice.

I am sure it is, and so also is almost everyone else.

LETTER 18

TO PETER, CARDINAL DEACON

This is not Peter Leonis, who was also a Legate, but a Cardinal Priest.

It is probably the Peter whom Pope Honorius sent as legatus a latere to France.

To his venerable Lord Peter, Cardinal Deacon and Legate of the Roman Church, his entire devotion, from Brother Bernard of Clairvaux.

T was not laziness but a very much better reason that prevented me I from coming when you sent for me.

The truth is, saving your reverence and the reverence due to all good men, I have determined never to leave my monastery except for certain reasons none of which could be invoked on this occasion, as a pretext for satisfying your wishes and, indeed, my own.

But what are you doing about the promise you gave in your first letter to come here?

As for those writings of mine, which you say you have asked to be sent to you, I can only tell you I know nothing about them, and so I have prepared nothing.

In fact I do not remember ever having written anything on morals which I would consider worthy of the attention of your

Excellency.

But you have by you Gebuin, the Precentor and Archdeacon of Troyes, who was one of those who noted down what I said when I was speaking on the subject in public, so you can easily get the notes from him if you think it worth while.

When you pay us the visit we are all expecting, should you think it worth the trouble or if you are ever sufficiently free from troubles to come, then, if I have anything on my hands or if I can prepare anything that seems likely to please you, I shall try as far as I can not to disappoint you.

It would give me great pleasure if, mere rustic though I be, I could satisfy your wishes, for I am much in love with all I hear of you, and I have a great respect for your care and zeal in the things of God.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER "6

TO THE SAME?

vEN were I able to give myself wholly to you, it would seem to me E a little enough return for even a small part of the favour with which, I am told, you regard me.

Of course I am very pleased to be so honoured by you but, I must confess, my pleasure is tempered by the thought that I have won your favour not by my merits but by my reputation.

I am ashamed to take any pride in your favour, because I am conscious that what you honour and respect in me is not what Iam, but what I am believed to be.

It is not me you love when you love me in the way you do, but something, I know not what, which is in me but not of me.

To be honest, I do know what it is you love in me, it is nothing at all; for what does not exist, even though we may think it does, is without any doubt nothing at all. When we love what we think is there but which is not there, it is not the love or the lover that is defaulting, but the thing which is loved.

It is more a matter for sorrow than for wonder that it should be possible to love what does not exist.

We can learn from this whence we come and whither we go, what we have lost and what we find.

In other words, we learn that when we cleave to him who always is and is always happy, we too live for ever and are always happy. When we cleave,

I should say, with the heart, not just with the mind.

When we love him, not just when we think of him.

For certain children of Adam "because, when they knew God, have not glorified him as God, or given thanks, have become fantastic in their notions'.

They deserved to have their stupid hearts darkened, and they were rightly punished by having their knowledge of the truth taken from them; because when they did see it, they ignored it.

Alas! by allowing his heart to draw his mind away from truth, or in other words by loving vanity instead of truth, 'man has become like unto the vanity' he loves.

And what could be more fitting than that the knowledge of truth should be taken away from those who did not take advantage of it when they had it. I say, what could be more right than that they should lose their knowledge, so that they can no longer pride themselves on it who, when they had it, flattered themselves on having it rather than glorifying the truth they knew by it. To desire vanity is the same thing as to ignore the truth, and this ignoring of the truth is the cause of our blindness: 'and because they scorned to keep God in oes view, God has abandoned them to a frame of mind worthy of all scorn.

2. It is from this ignoring of the truth that the blindness comes ? According to some MSS. this letter is addressed to Haimeric, in others it is inscribed to Peter the Cardinal Deacon, which Mabillon believes to be the correct address.

TO PETER, CARDINAL DEACON

whereby we are led to love and approve what does not exist as if it did, because ' while we are in this body we are exiles from him who is', from God who is the plenitude of being.

' And what is man, O God, that thou art made known to him?' By ignorance of God man is reduced to nothing, for the reason of his existence is to know him.

But God has pity on those who are reduced to nothing by their ignorance of him, and treats them as though they were already his creatures.

Because we cannot yet contemplate the reality nor fully embrace him by love, he feeds us on that hidden manna of which the Apostle says:

' Your life is hid with Christ in God', allowing us to taste him by faith and'to seek him by desire. By these two, faith in him and desire for him, we are brought a second time from a state of nothingness to a state of being, and we begin once more to be, after a fashion, creatures of God, to pass at last into the perfect man, ' into the measure of the age of the fulness of Christ'.

And this will come about when ' justice shall be turned into judgement', that is to say when faith will be turned into understanding or when the justice which arises from faith is transformed into the judgement that comes from full knowledge, and the desiré experienced in exile is changed into fulness of love.

If faith in God and desire for him start the exile off on the way, they culminate in understanding and love when he is there.

As faith leads to full knowledge, so desire leads to perfect love.

Just as it is said, "If you will not believe, you shall not understand ', so it can be equally well said, "If you do not desire God ardently, you will not love him erfectly '. Understanding is therefore the fruit of faith, and perfect ae of desire.

In the meantime, 'The just man lives by faith', but the blessed in heaven by understanding.

Even as ' the hart pants after the fountains of living water', so does the just man thirst for God, but the blessed in heaven 'draw waters of joy out of the Saviour's fountains ', which is to say that they delight in the fulness of charity.

3. With these two, understanding and love, which are knowledge of and delight in the truth, as with two arms of the soul, the length and breadth, the height and depth, which are eternity, love, power and wisdom, are comprehended and embraced.

And what are these but Christ himself?

He is eternity because ' This is eternal life, to know thee the only true God and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent '; he is love because he is God and ' God is love'; he is also " the power and wisdom of God'.

But when will all this be? When shall we see him as he is? When shall we be able to love him as he deserves?

For ' the expectation of the creature waiteth for the revelation of the sons of God.

For the creature was made subject to vanity.'

It is the nature of this universal vanity which is in us to wish for praise when we deserve blame, and to be loath to praise others when we know them to be'praiseworthy.

And this also is a vain thing: in our ignoraiice we often commend what does not exist, and are silent about

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

what does.

What can we say of this but that 'the sons of men are vain, the sons of men are liars, so that by vanity they deceive each other'. We praise deceitfully and are foolishly delighted when we are praised, so that they become vain who are praised and they are liars who praise.

Some flatter and are deceitful; others praise what they think worthy of praise and are mistaken; both preen themselves on the praises of each other, and are vain.

He alone is wise who says with the Apostle: 'I forbear lest any man should think of me above that which he seeth in me, or anything he heareth of me'.

4. L have jotted down rather than dictated all this hastily and therefore carelessly, and I may have been too long-winded.

But I have said what I felt to be true and I cannot do more than that. Now to end at the point where I began: I do not want you to trust too much to my reputation.

As you know full well reputations are apt to err on one side or the other, either by blaming too much or by praising too highly. Judge for yourself, I beg you, and consider how far your love and favour are deserved.

I assure you that they will be more pleasing to me, your friend, if they are in proportion to my merits.

The praise that comes from mature consideration may be less lavish than when it is based on idle gossip, but it is less embarrassing.

What renders me, such as I am, especially devoted to you is that I hear you concern yourself vigorously and sincerely with the things of God.

May you always do this, so that it may continue to be said of you truthfully.

5. You have the book you asked for in order to copy.

Those booklets you want are not very many, and I do not think them at all worthy of your attention.

Yet as I would rather be blamed for poor understanding than for lack of good will, and that my relations with you should be endangered by ignorance rather than by disobedience, you have only to indicate in a note by this messenger which of the booklets you want and where you would like them sent and I, if I do not have them by me, will get them from those who have them and send them on to wherever you want.

So that you may know what to ask for, I must tell you that I have written one booklet entitled On Humility, another in praise of the Virgin Mother which bears this name, and is based on that text from the Gospel of St. Luke which begins 'The Angel Gabriel was sent'.

I have also written for the benefit of a friend! an Apologia which is concerned with the observances of Cluny and ourselves, the Cistercians.

I have written a few letters to various friends and there are some discourses which certain of the brothers have taken down in their own style while I was talking, and have kept by them.

I could wish, but hardly dare to hope, that these efforts of my simplicity may be of some use to you.

: L William of St. Thierry, a great friend of St. Bernard and the author of the well-known

Golden Epistle to the Carthusians of Mont Dieu.

TO CARDINAL HAIMERIC

LETTER 20

TO THE SAME

[ is time for me to keep you to your promise, so that I can discover whether or no the trust I have always placed in you since I was honoured with your notice and friendship is justified.

You can rest assured that any help you afford the deputies from Rheims! I shall regard as given to myself.

I do not venture to write this because I think myself of any importance whatsoever, but because you have given me your promise; whether justifiably or not is your affair.

LETTER 21

TO HAIMERIC, CARDINAL DEACON AND CHANCELLOR OF THE HOLY SEE

This letter concerns the same affair as the above.

Haimeric was Chancellor of the Holy See and very much in the confidence of St. Bernard.

To that illustrious man, the Lord Haimeric, Chancellor of the Holy Roman See, health and prayers from Brother Bernard of Clairvaux.

Beet I have once begun let me speak again and speak to you.

I will be importunate, but it will be the importunity of charity, of truth, and of justice.

Although I am not so important as to have affairs at Rome, yet nothing that concerns the glory of God is a matter of indifference to me."

If popular report does not lie when it says that I stand high in your favour, then, I beg you, let the delegates of my Lord of Rheims know it by helping them in their present business.

I am quite sure that they are not trying to do or to obtain anything but what is right.

LEETER 22

TO MATTHEW, THE LEGATE

The following letter is addressed to Matthew du Remois, Cardinal Bishop of Albano.

It was evidently written in reply to a summons from the Legate to attend the Council of Troyes over which Matthew presided in the year

1128.

In this letter Bernard tries to excuse himself from attendance on the grounds of ill health, but at the end he indicates that he is willing to obey the summons in spite of his illness.

In fact he was present, and it was under his influence that the Knights Templar received the formal sanction of the Church at the Council.

1 It is not known for certain what this deputation from Rheims was about.

Mabillon thinks it may have been to obtain the pallium for Raynald de Martini, who had been transferred from the see of Angers to that of Rheims in 1124.

' tafe.

; 2 Humani nihil a me alienum puto:

'No human concern is a matter of indifference to me (Terence, Heaut. 1.1.23).

THB LETTERS OF ST. BBRNARD

y heart was ready to obey your summons, but not so my body.

M My weak flesh, parched by the heat of a raging fever and exhausted by constant sweating, was not able to satisfy the demands of my willing spirit. And so, although I wanted to come, my weakling body impeded my ready will.

Whether or not this is a sufficient reason for not coming, those friends of mine must judge who, regardless of my protests, are always trying to drag me, enmeshed in the net of obedience, from the cloister to the cities.

They must know that this is not a mere pretext, but a grievous affliction, and so they will learn that there is no evading the will of God.

They would certainly have been indignant with me if I had said to them: 'I have put off my garment, how shall I put it on?

I have washed my feet, how shall T soil them?'

But now they must either be angry with the providence of God or submit to it, for it is not my fault that I cannot come when I am ready to do so.

2. They tell me that the matter is important and the necessity grave.

If this is so then they must find someone suitable.

If they think I am he, then I assure them not only that I believe they are mistaken, but that I am quite certain they are.

Be the matters weighty or trivial which they press upon me, they are no concern of mine.

If these matters in which you try so hard to involve your friend at the cost of his peace and silence are simple, then they can be settled without me; if they are difficult then they cannot be settled by me.

Unless of course I am considered a person of such consequence that great and difficult matters must be reserved for me because there is no one else to settle them.

If this is so then only in my case have the designs of God been frustrated. Why has he put me under a bushel when I could give light from a candlestick or, to speak more clearly, why, if I am necessary to the world, a man without whose aid the bishops cannot settle their own affairs, has God called me to be a monk and ' hidden me in his tabernacle in the day of evil things'? As it is, all that my friends have done for me is to make me feel troubled when I speak to one whom, hitherto, I have never thought of without serenity and joy.

But you know, and it is to you I speak, my father, that "I am ready and not troubled that I may keep your commands'.

But I beg you, of your kindness, to spare me whenever you can.

LETTER 23

TO HUMBOLD, ARCHBISHOP OF LYONS AND LEGATE

From being Archdeacon of Autun, Humbold became Archbishop of Lyons.

Early in the pontificate of Honorius II he was legate with Cardinal Peter de Fontaines.

Mabillon believes that the Bishop of Meaux referred to in this letter was Burchard and not his successor, Manasses II.

It would appear that this letter was written not long after 1125 and certainly before 1129 when

TO ATTO, BISHOP OF TROYES

$7 Rainald, the successor of Humbold, died after occupying the see of Lyons for only a few days.

Le Lordship the Bishop of Meaux was, it so happened, on his way to see me when he received your letter.

He wanted to answer it before leaving here so that with his letter he could enclose one from myself in the hopes that as I am friendly with you, it might forward his business.

As I could not deny his request I have thought it well to make known to your Reverence in a few friendly words that it would ill become your dignity and your office were you to pay any attention to the coinplaints of those who love themselves and seek their own meas against a bishop who is concerned only with the things of Christ.

LETIER 24

TO ATTO, BISHOP OF TROYES

The good Atto was in a great way because in a moment of panic, when he thought he was dying, he had distributed all his possessions to the poor.

St. Bernard writes the following letter to comfort him.

THE greeting of a poor abbot to a poor bishop that he may gain the reward of poverty which is the Kingdom of Heaven.

WOULD praise you, and rightly, were it not for that verse of Scripture I which says:

* Praise not any man in his life', You have done a thing worthy of all praise, but the praise is due to God who gave you the good will to conceive what was praiseworthy and the strength to carry it out.

So it is God working through you and in you whom I glorify.

And only for this does he deign to manifest his glory in you, that he may render you also glorious.

Although he is wonderful in his own majesty, yet he deigns to appear glorious in his saints, so that he may not keep all his glory for himself.

Although he is glorious enough in his own magnificence and needs not the glory of any man, yet he sceks to be glorified in his saints, not to increase his glory but to share it.

He knows who are his own, but they are not so easily known to us unless he is pleased to reveal them.

Certainly we know those of whom it is written: 'They are not in the labour of men, neither shall they be scourged like other men'.

But these words hardly apply to you.

Yet nevertheless we know it is also written:

' Whom the Lord loveth, he chastiseth; he scourgeth every son he receiveth'.

So when I see someone scourged and corrected, can I doubt that he is one of his sons?

I see in your present poverty a clear enough sign of correction.

The title of poverty is a noble one, which God himself is pleased to commend through the mouth of his

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

Prophet when he says:

'I am the man that sees my poverty z Poverty isa surer title to nobility than all the purple and pearls of a king.

2. I am aware that I have just quoted Scripture, saying that a man should not be praised in his life, but how can I refrain from praising one who has ceased to pursue gold and who now scorns to put his trust in money and treasures?

Of such a man Scripture itself says:

'Who is he and we shall praise him?'

Perhaps it means that we are not to praise a man during his life, because life on earth is a trial which is not over so long as life remains.

But shall we not praise a man when he is dead to sin and living only for God?

The praise given to a sinner in the desires of his heart is certainly vain and deceptive.

Anyone who calls me blessed leads me into error if I believe him.

But we are not for that reason to refrain from praising one who can say:

' Now not I live, but Christ lives in me'. When we praise such a man who lives not his own life, but the life of Christ, we do not praise him ' in his life' but in the life of Christ, and so we do not act contrary to Scripture when it forbids us to praise a man " in his life'.

3. And why should he not deserve my praise whom God has honoured with the praises of his name, according to the words:

'The poor and needy shall praise my name'?

Shall I not praise a bishop who has freely parted with his goods and generously distributed them, when Job is praised for bearing with patience the loss of them?

He did not wait until he was dead and no longer able to give or keep his goods, as many do whose will is not executed until they are dead.

No, while still living and able to do what he would with his goods, "he distributed and gave to the poor, so that his justice remaineth for ever and ever'.

Would money last for ever like this?

Surely justice is a good return for money, when that which cannot endure is replaced by that which lasts for ever?

Certainly it is incomparably better, for while money enriches only our treasure chest, justice enriches our soul.

'The priests of God are clothed with justice', and much more becomingly and richly than with gold and silk.

4. Give thanks to God who, by smiting you with a healthy fear for the state of your soul, has wrought in you a glorious scorn for the passing glory of the world.

How great has been his goodness to you !

He threatened you with death so as to save your life; he allowed you to fear so that you should have nothing to fear.

He did this to cure you of loving your goods more than your good. Your bones were aching with a raging fever.

The pains got daily worse because you could not sweat the fever out.

The grievous heat withdrew from your chilling limbs to collect itself within and consume your bowels already weakened by long days of illness.

Then the sad spectre of pale death haunted you.

And lo! as if from on high a voice came and said unto you: 'Iam, I am he who blots out', not you but ' your iniquities .

Then presently, when the priest of God has distributed

TO GILBERT, BISHOP OF LONDON

$9 all his goods to the poor that he may die in poverty, the healthgiving sweats, despaired of and unexpected, break forth, and health returns to soul and body alike.

Thereby were fulfilled the words of God speaking through his Scriptures and saying: 'I will kill, and I will make to live: I will strike, and I will heal'.

He smote your flesh so that your spirit might live: he killed your avarice so that you might live for justice. Now that you are restored to life and health what more is there to hope for except that none may snatch you from the hand of God.

And this will not happen if you are mindful of that warning in the Gospel: 'Sin no more lest a worse thing befall thee'.

Our loving Father only forewarns you of this because he does not wish it to happen.

He does not wish for the death of a sinner, but rather that he should be converted and live.

And rightly.

For what advantage is there in the death of a sinner?

Hell shall not confess God nor shall death praise him, but do you who live, bless the Lord and say, 'I shall not die but live: and I shall declare the works of the Lord'; and again, "I reeled under the blow, and had well-nigh fallen, but still the Lord was there to aid me'.

LETTER 25

TO THE UNIVERSAL DOCTOR, GILBERT, BISHOP OF LONDON

Gilbert was Bishop of London from 1128 to 1135.

It is therefore probable that this letter was written about the year 1130.

He was called the ' Universal Doctor' because he excelled in all branches of learning.

St. Bernard congratulates him in his letter for overcoming avarice by living as a poor man while Bishop of London.

Henry of Huntingdon, however, attributes the spartan life of the bishop to miserliness. ue fame of your life has spread far and wide, and it has been as a Pee sweet odour for all unto whom it has come.

Your avarice has been stifled: who would not delight in this?

Charity rules in its stead: who does not relish this?

All men know you to be wise because you have crushed the chief enemy of wisdom.

This is something worthy of your priesthood and your great name.

The witness of your life well becomes your philosophy; it is a fitting crown of your studies.

Yours has been the true wisdom which scorns filthy lucre ~ and refuses to consort with the service of idols.

For you it was no great thing to be a bishop, but to be a bishop of London and yet to live as a poor man, this is something clearly magnificent.

The dignity of high office could have added little to the lustre of your fame, but the humility of your poverty has added much.

To bear poverty with resignation argues great patience; to seek it of one's own free will is the highest wisdom.

The Scriptures acclaim and praise the man who does not set his heart on riches, but you have deserved even higher

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

praise by scorning them.

Unless cold reason can see nothing wonderful in a wise man acting wisely.

And without any doubt you are a wise man, taking your pleasure in all the books and studies of the wise men of the world, and studying all the divine Scriptures so as to give life to their meaning and apply it to the present day. For have you not 'dispersed and given to the poor'?

But it is money you have given.

And what is money in comparison with the justice for which you have exchanged it?

' His justice remaineth for ever and ever."

Can the same be said of money?

It is certainly a desirable and worthy sort of commerce to exchange what passes for what lasts for ever.

O admirable and praiseworthy Master, may you always be able to do business in this way!

It only remains for you to finish the good work you have begun, so that the tail of the victim may be joined to the head.!_ I gladly accept your blessing, especially as it comes recommended by the joy I take in your high perfection.

Although the bearer of this letter is a most worthy person in himself, yet I wish him to be acceptable to you for my sake as well, because he is very dear to me by reason of his integrity and piety.

LETTER 26

TO HUGH, ARCHBISHOP OF ROUEN

Hugh was elected Archbishop of Rouen in the year 1130.

Before his election he had been a monk of Cluny and then Abbot of Reading. es evils of our time may grow worse every day, but they cannot prevail.

They may disturb us, but they should not dismay us.

'Wonderful is the surging of the waves', but more wonderful is the Lord on high.

If you are frank with yourself you must admit that God has been very good to you.

The care of Providence has seen to it that you were not put in charge of sinners before you had associated with good people, so that in their company and by their example you might become good enough to lead a good life among evil people.

We save our souls by living a good life amongst good people, but we deserve praise as well by living a good life amongst evil people.

The first is safe and easy, the second all the more virtuous for being more difficult.

It is as difficult to do this as it is to touch pitch without being sullied, to put one's hand into the fire without being burned, to live in darkness without losing the light. There was once darkness over the land of Egypt so thick that it might be felt, but ' wheresoever the children of Israel dwelt there was light'.

David was a true Israelite and therefore he was careful to say that he did not live in Cedar, but ' with the inhabitants of Cedar', as if to imply that although the dwelling place of his body was with the people of Cedar, yet he dwelt always in the light. And he rebuked some who were not 1 This is a favourite metaphor of St. Bernard, taken from Lev. 3.7, to signify perseverance.

TO GUY, BISHOP OF LAUSANNE

true Israelites because 'they mingled with the heathen and were a stumbling-block to them'.

2. So I say to you that according to the words, ' With the innocent man thou wilt be innocent ', it was enough for you when you were at Cluny to have kept yourself innocent, but now that you live amongst the people of Rouen you must also have patience according to the words of the Apostle:

* The servant of God must not wrangle, he must be mild to all men, ready to teach them, and be patient'.

And you must not only be patient so as not to be overcome by evil, you must also be peaceable so as to overcome evil by good. By being patient you will bear with evil people, by being peaceable you will heal them of their evil.

In your patience you will possess your soul, but you must also be peaceable so as to possess the souls committed to your care.

What is more glorious than to be able to say:

' With them that hated peace, I was peaceable'?

So be patient because you are with evil people; and be peaceable too because you have to rule over them.

By all means let your charity be zealous, but for the time moderate your severity.

You must never condone evil, but sometimes it is well to defer rebuking it. Justice should always be eager, but never hasty.

All that pleases is not lawful, so all that is ee is not always expedient at the moment.

But you know all this better than I, so I will forbear from saying any more.

Pray for me without ceasing, for I am ceaselessly sinning.

LERTER7

TO GUY, BISHOP OF LAUSANNE

ou have put your hand to great things, therefore you need great \ Geet You have become a watchman on the housetops of Israel, therefore you must be prudent.

You have the same duty to all, learned and simple, therefore you must be just.

But above all you must rule yourself, lest having preached to others, you yourself become a castaway.

LEDLER 2s

TO ARDUTIO, BISHOP-ELECT OF GENEVA

It is difficult to say whether this is a letter of congratulation or a warning.

HAVE heard that your election was greeted unanimously by the I clergy and people, and I believe it to have been of God. I give thanks for the grace of God, not to mention your merits; and sO as not to flatter you more than is fitting, I say you owe your election to his mercy rather than to your good works.

If you should think otherwise, and may it be far from you to think any such thing, you will only be setting yourself up in order to be thrown down.

But if you

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

acknowledge God's grace, you must see to it that you have not received it in vain, Set your ways right, keep your life good, and your ministry holy. If holiness has not preceded your election, at least see that it follows after it. Then I shall be able to admit with truth that 'you have been met in the way with abundant blessing', and hope that from this may come even greater things.

I shall rejoice and be glad that a good and wise servant has been placed over the household of the Lord; a happy and strong son of his father worthy to be set in charge of all his goods.

But if, on the other hand, you take pleasure in being more haughty than holy, I shall expect not your reward but your fall.

I hope and pray that this may never be, yet I shall stand by to hold out my hand to catch you, and to do the little I can to help you towards what is suitable and becoming.

LETTER 29

TO THE SAME, AFTER HE HAD BEEN CONSECRATED BISHOP

HARITY gives me the courage to speak to you with confidence.

Cc The bishop's throne for which you, my dear friend, were lately chosen, demands many virtues, none of which, I grieve to say, could be discerned in you, at any rate in any strength, before your consecration.

Neither your actions nor your pleasures seemed at all to befit the office of a bishop. But what of this? God can raise up a child of Abraham even from this stone.

He can bring it about that the virtues which should have gone before consecration, follow afterwards.

When I hear of this happening I am always pleased.

I do not know why, but this sudden ' change of the right hand of the Most High' in you will be more gratifying than if you had a long life of virtue to recommend you.

Certainly I will say:

' This is the Lord's doing and it is wonderful in our eyes'.

In this way Paul, after persecuting the Church, became suddenly the Doctor of the Gentiles.

And it was in this way that Matthew was called from the customs' house and Ambrose was taken from a palace, the former to become an Apostle, the latter a bishop.

So have I known many others called from a worldly life to do good work for the Church. And then it often happens that where sins have abounded greatly, grace abounds in like measure.

2. And so, my dear friend, I pray that you may be inspired by these and other examples to gird yourself like a man and set your ways right and your occupations too, so that your new habits may put to sleep your old ones and in the evening of your life you may mend the follies of your youth.

Try like Paul to be an honour to your ministry, by the gravity of your manners, by the maturity of your counsel, by the integrity of your actions.

It is these qualities that especially adorn and ennoble the episcopal office. Take counsel in all things, but only of

TO STEPHEN, BISHOP OF METZ

the good, not of everybody and anybody.!

Have good men in council, good men in your service, and good men under your roof; these will be the guardians both of your life and your integrity, and the witnesses of it. By the witness of good men you will be proved to be good.

I commend to your care my poor brethren who are near to you, both those of Bonnemont in the Alps and those at Hautecombe.

May I experience in their persons how much you care for me.

LETTER 30

TO STEPHEN, BISHOP OF METZ

The appendix to the History of the Bishops of Metz tells us that Stephen was "illustrious for birth and still more illustrious for his virtue'.

He succeeded to his see in the year 1120.

Although St. Bernard praises him in this letter, later on in Letter 218 to Pope Innocent he refers to him as being more of a tyrant than a bishop.

It is possible that he displeased St. Bernard by adopting too violent measures in order to recover the goods of the Church, in fact by being too active an administrator of the Church.

To Stephen, by the grace of God an active administrator of the Church of Metz, health and prayers from his humble brothers in Christ at Clairvaux.

T is only lately, if you remember, that you deigned to be associated with our community and humbly commended yourself to our prayers.

Ever since then, as was only right, we have been anxious to know how you were.

We have been zealous in making frequent enquiries about how you fared from all whom we could, and we have not ceased to desire and pray God to prosper you in the work you have been raised up to do for him, and to direct your steps in the way of his commandments.

And now we can say:

' Blessed be God who has not rejected our prayer nor withheld his mercy from us'!

For our hearts have been filled with joy by the venerable Brother William whose account of your health and success, and of how you have restored peace to the Church, we believe as well as if we saw it with our owneyes.

Weall congratulate you, but we give glory to God because we know that it is to him and not to yourself that you owe what you

- are and what you are able to do. And in a friendly way we admonish you that you never forget this, but keep it always before your eyes, for, if you should think otherwise and attribute to your own merits or prowess any good that you do, the time would come when you would cease to be able either to be anything good or to do anything good.

May such a thing be far from you!

Otherwise it is much to be eared that your peace would be turned to trouble and your prosperity into j 1Cf. Rule of St. Benedict, Ch. 3, ad fin.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

adversity, by God, who, acting ever justly, withstands the proud and gives his grace to the humble.

For the Psalmist says of him, ' Lovingly thou dost treat them who love thee, and from the man who turns against thee thou dost turn away', and the Prophet Isaias calls him ' the maker of peace, the author of calamity '.

LETTER 31

TO ALBERO, PROVOST OF METZ

Mabillon writes of Albero: 'I find three persons called Albero who bore this title in succession at this time.

I believe that the following letter was written to the second of them, who afterwards became Archbishop of Tréves.

St. Bernard was very friendly with him and wrote on his behalf several letters—Letters 218-222.

To the most estimable Albero, by the grace of God Provost! of the church of Metz, health and prayers from the brothers who try to serve

God at Clairvaux.

E now know from personal experience what we had already seen Wind heard of your zeal for the things of God.

Although you are so favourable to the suggestions made by the brothers who were sent on your advice, and although the bishop has given his ready assent, yet above all and before all it behoves us to seek and observe the pleasure of God in everything, and especially in what directly concerns him.

And therefore, so as to know his will more surely, we have decided not indeed to abandon but to postpone, until after the harvest, the matter as it had been agreed between the monks and the bishop, with the assistance of yourself, who were arranging how everything should be done, urging us to do it quickly, and helping us to do it honourably.

We hope that this will be more convenient for yourself and more opportune.

Then, if you and the bishop are still in the same mind, we shall be more confident that it is God's will and hope to satisfy the devotion of you both according to our arrangement. We believe that if the project is to be acceptable to God we should be as careful as we can be not to burden anyone lest it should seem that we are secking not so much his glory as our own profit, and may it be far from us to do this! We believe very strongly that it would be wrong and quite out of keeping with our custom were we to make this an occasion for troubling and importuning you without need when you are busy with affairs more important and of greater moment.2

* Primicerius Mettensis Ecclesia.

This title was used for the chiefs of various departments.

In the church of Metz it was always given to the senior canon of the chapter whose position corresponded to our provosts.

? Unlike many of St. Bernard's letters this one consists almost entirely of one long and very involved sentence. _ For the purpose of translation it has been rearranged with as little distortion to the general sense as possible.

TO HUGH, COUNT OF CHAMPAGNE

LETTER 32

TO HUGH, COUNT OF CHAMPAGNE, WHO HAD BECOME A KNIGHT

OF THE TEMPLE

He was the son of Theobald III.

He was extremely generous to religious houses, and gave to St. Bernard and his monks the site of Clairvaux.

He became a Knight of the Temple in 1125. if it is for God's sake that you from being a count have become a simple soldier, from being a rich man have become poor, then it is right that I should congratulate you, and glorify God in you, seeing in this a " change of the right hand of the Most High'.

But that your joyous presence which, were it possible, I would never be without, should be removed from me by an inscrutable judgement of God, this is something I find hard to bear with equanimity.

How can I forget your long-standing affection and generosity to this house?

May God, for the love of whom you did it, be ever mindful of you!

I am as grateful as I can be to you and keep the memory of your great goodntss ever before my eyes and, if I might, I would prove my gratitude by deeds.

How willingly would I provide for your soul and body were it but granted to us to live in the company of each other!

But because this is not to be, because I may not have you ever present as I should like, it only remains for me always to pray for you absent.

LETIER «33

TO JORANNUS, ABBOT OF SAINT NICASIUS OF RHEIMS

This letter is written to comfort Abbot Jorannus on the loss of one of his monks, a certain Brother Drogo, to the Cistercians.

If it is read with the two following letters which are also concerned with the same brother, St.

Bernard is shown in a very human light.

Apparently Drogo did not persevere with the Cistercians, but returned to St. Nicasius before his profession.

Later on Abbot Jorannus himself left the Benedictines to become a Carthusian.

Mabillon ascribes this letter to the year 1120.

£ who bore in his body all our griefs knows how deeply I H sympathize with you.

I would willingly counsel you if 1 knew what to say, and help you if I knew what to do, even as I hope for the counsel and help of him who knows all things and to whom all things are possible.

I would certainly never have advised Brother Drogo to leave you, if he had consulted me on the matter; I would certainly never have received him here, if he had come to me after leaving you !4

1Cf. the following two letters.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

But, as you know, I have done what I could by immediately writing to the abbot who received him.

What, my father, can I do more than this now?

As regards yourself, you know as well as I do that perfect men are ' confident not only in their hope of attaining glory as sons of God, but are confident even over their afflictions ', being consoled by those sayings from the Scriptures:

' Pottery is tested in the furnace, man in the crucible of suffering.

Though a hundred trials beset the innocent, the Lord will bring them safely through them all.

We cannot enter the kingdom of heaven without many trials.

All those who are resolved to lead a holy life in Jesus Christ will meet with persecution.'

But this is not to say that we are not to commiserate with our friends when they are in trouble, for we do not know what the outcome of it will be, and there is the chance that they may fall away.

With the saints and elect trouble makes for endurance, endurance gives proof of their faith, and a proved faith gives ground for hope.

But with the damned and reprobate on the contrary trouble makes for faint-heartedness, faint-heartedness for worry, worry for despair, and that is the finish.

2. So that you may not be drowned in this horrid storm, so that you may not be swallowed up in the depths, so that the mouth of the insatiable pit may not close over you, do you in humble prudence take care that you are not overcome by evil, but rather overcome evil by good. And overcome you will if you put your hope in God and patiently await the issue.

If Brother Drogo! should be brought to his senses either by his fear of you or by the difficulty of what he has undertaken, well and good; but if not, then for your own good you must ' bow down under the strong hand of God' and not kick against the ruling of heaven, because what is of God cannot be undone.

You should try to control your stirrings of anger, however justified they may be, by remembering that saying of one of the saints who, when some of the brethren were provoking and reproaching him for not recalling a brother who had gone to another monastery in defiance of him, replied: ' Not at all. Wherever he is, if he is good, he is still mine.'

3. My advice to you would not be sincere if I did not follow it myself. When one of my own monks, not only a professed religious but also a relation of mine, was received and kept at Cluny against my will, I was sorry certainly, but I held my peace and prayed to God. for those who had taken him away that they might return him, and for him too that he might come back of his own free will.

But I left my vengeance to God ' who redresses wrongs' and ' who rights the wrongs of the defenceless'.2 Through your mouth my spirit warns

Brother Hugh of Lausanne ' not to believe every spirit ' nor hastily to leave a certain good for one that is uncertain.

Let him understand that * Apparently this brother was sometimes known as ' Hugo-Drogo ', because he was held in such high esteem by Hugo, Abbot of Pontigny.

2 See Letter 1.

TO HUGH, ABBOT OF PONTIGNY

the devil always attacks perseverance because he knows that itis the only virtue which wins the crown.

I warn him that it would be safer for him to persevere with simplicity in the vocation to which he has been called, than under the pretext of seeking supposedly higher good to abandon what he has begun only perhaps to find that he is not equal to what he has presumed to undertake.

LETTER 34

TO HUGH, ABBOT OF PONTIGNY

To his most beloved Lord, Abbot Hugh, all that he could wish for himself, from Brother Bernard of Clairvaux. s far as I can gather from your letter it appears that either I have

A worded myself less clearly than I had wished or else that you have not understood me in the way I had intended you to do.

+The warning I gave you of the consequences of receiving that monk was quite genuine, I really did fear them and I still do, even as I wrote to you.

But I had no intention of trying to persuade or advise you, still less did I mean, as you said I did, that the monk ought to be returned to his monastery.

As I have known his wish to join us for a long time, I ought rather to congratulate him than urge his return.

But when I was implored by his abbot, with whom I am very intimate, and by the Archbishop of Rheims, to write to you and ask for his return,

I tried so far as I could both to clear myself of any suspicion of complicity in the affair and to warn you of the abuse you might incur by your action, while at the same time satisfying them.

Knowing your shrewdness I thought you would read between the lines and see this, or that at any rate you would gather what I meant from what I put at the end of the letter, if you read it in the spirit in which it was written.

For when I had warned you of the consequences which I feared, and not without cause, might come of your receiving this monk, I added, if I remember right: " Should you prefer to endure all this rather than lose the man, that is your affair and you must see to it'.

These, or very nearly these, were my words.

I had intended by saying this at the end of the letter to give you a covert hint that I had written what I did under pressure to satisfy, not to say hood-wink, others.

2. What you say about my insinuating to this monk by means of the messenger, that if he came to me I would obtain secretly a dispensation from Rome is, J assure you by the very Truth, quite untrue.

Is it likely that I would boast or even hope that I could receive a monk from a monastery which is well known to me, whom I do not think even you can keep without giving great offence?

But even were this 1 See previous letter.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

so, even if I did envy you the monk and try to attract him to myself, hoping or pretending I could engineer his dispensation from Rome, is it likely that I would reveal to the messenger of all people that I was plotting against his own monastery?

I must tell you, so that you may not think the affection you have had for me hitherto has been misplaced, that I shall consider it my duty to continue to work for your interests as I see them as hard as I do for my own, or even harder, and this, not so that the harmony between us may be further strengthened, as I have done hitherto, but that it may not now be altogether broken.

What more can I say? Only that I could never have believed you capable of such an action as you, on the sole grounds of mere suspicion, attribute to me.

It remains for me to tell you that Count Theobald has now received the letter I wrote on behalf of Humbert, but has not yet replied to it.

What more you can do about it your own pity will suggest if you consider the misery of a man who has been exiled unjustly.

LETTER A$

TO THE MONK DROGO

This letter should be read with the two preceding.

It is to the monk with whom those letters are concerned. if is now quite clear, my dearest Drogo, that my affection for you has not been misplaced.

Even before this I saw that you were a very lovable person, and I perceived that there was something about you, I know not what, apart from what I saw and heard of you, entitling you to respect as well as to affection.

Perhaps even then you had heard the voice of the Bridegroom, in whose pure arms you are now closely held, whispering to your soul, as to a shy dove: ' Fair in every part, my true love, no fault at all in thy fashioning'.

Who would have believed what you have done!

The whole city was talking of your holiness and exact observance, so that it was hard to believe that there could be any improvement possible in you.

And now you have left your monastery, as a secular would leave the world and, although already bent under the burden of Christ, you have ner considered it beneath you to submit yourself again to the observances of a new discipline.

In you, brother, the truth of that saying of Scripture is proved once more:

'Reach thou to the end of thy reckoning, thou must needs begin again'.

That you should have now begun again, is an indication that you had reached the end of your reckoning; that you should have considered you had not yet finished indicates that you had already done so.

No one is perfect who does not wish to be still more perfect; the more perfect a man is, the more he reaches out to an even higher perfection.

TO HUGH FARSIT

2. But, dearest friend, he whose envy brought death into the world is not asleep, even now 'his bow is bent in readiness'.

He has no power within you because you have turned him out of your heart, but outside he rages as much as he can.

To speak more clearly: do you not know that the Pharisees are scandalized at what you have done?

But remember that there are some scandals that we do not need greatly to trouble about, according to the answer our Blessed

Lord gave under similar circumstances:

' Let them be, they are blind leaders of the blind'.

It is better that there should be scandal than that the truth should be denied.

Remember who it was who was born for the rise and fall of many and do not wonder that for some you should be "a life giving perfume' and for others 'a deadly fume'.

If they should threaten you with curses, if they should hurl the darts of their anathemas at you, harken to Isaac answering them for you:

"A curse on those who curse, a blessing on those who bless thee'.

And do you, protected by the impregnable wall of your conscience, answer them from within: 'Though a whole host were arrayed against me, my heart would be undaunted; though an armed onset should threaten me, still I would not lose confidence'.

You will not be overcome if you answer them thus at the door.

I am confident in the Lord that if you stand up firmly to the first blows and do not give way either to threats or to blandishments, you will quickly crush satan under your feet, and ' honest men will rejoice to witness it, and malice will stand dumb with confusion '.

LETTER 36

TO HUGH FARSIT

There were several Hugh Farsits at this time, and it is not certain to which of them this letter was addressed.

To his dearest brother and co-abbot, the due of a sincere affection, from Brother Bernard.

ONFIDING in your charity I commend to your protection this poor (@ man Humbert who, they say, has been unjustly disinherited.

For the love of God I took up his cause with your count, and I have every hope that through your intervention and with the help of the Lord of Heaven he may be reconciled with his temporal Lord and restored to his home, family, and friends.

By undertaking this you will deliver the needy from the hand of the sinner and none the less benefit the soul of his oppressor.

You will also be rendering me a great service as well as proving yourself one of the sons of God by fulfilling the réle of peacemaker. ie ae 2. If they told you I threw your letter into the fire, it is quite untrue.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

Istill have it by me.

It would have been an act of sheer envy, even of madness, to pass such a hasty condemnation on a good and useful work in which I see nothing but what makes for sound faith, salutary doctrine, and spiritual edification.

But I must except one passage, for timid dissimulation among friends is dangerous as well as deceitful.

What I confess troubled me and still does trouble me is the opinion you defended in our recent conversation on the Sacraments, and which you restate and defend at the beginning of your letter.

If you remember what you said on the matter then you will see whether it conforms with the mind of the Church.

It is a mark of your innate humility not to mind correction, if sometimes you are in error.

LB TER 37

TO THE SAME

To his friend, now as ever very dear, Hugh, by the grace of God a holy abbot, the sincere assurance of an unfaltering affection from Brother Bernard of Clairvaux. eA eouce your letter was shorter than I could have wished, it was longer than I deserved, and I would like and ought to answer it at length, but the messenger is impatient to start back.

So that he should take back something in return for so much from you, I am replying with this hasty scribble, and even this is almost more than he can wait for. First of all, I must briefly and truthfully tell you that from the bottom of my heart I accept you as a Catholic and as a holy man and embrace as most dear to me, my beloved and loving old friend.

As evidence of the integrity of your faith, I believe your confession; of your holiness, the renown and esteem in which you are held; of the affection which I have professed for you, my own heart.

As regards that opinion of yours which troubled my simple heart with scruples (quite rightly, as I believe), 1 gladly accept your statement that you have put it out of your mind. I accept it all the more gladly for having read with great pleasure, in your last letter, your brief assertion of the most orthodox faith.

In fact I would almost sooner believe that I mistook the sense of your words than that you supposed anything that was not right.

2. Lastly I advise you with the audacity of a brother to cease molesting now that he is dead the holy and learned bishop! against whom you had nothing to say when he was alive.

Otherwise, since he is unable to answer for himself, you may hear the whole Church answering for him that you are inspired more by lack of charity than zeal for truth.

Task you again, as I have asked you before, not to fail Humbert in such advice and protection as you are able to afford him.

1 This may have been William of Champeaux.

TO THE COUNT DE BLOIS

LETIER 38

TO THE COUNT DE BLOIS

To his dear friend in Christ the Count de Blois, prosperity and peace, from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

I COMMEND unto your Excellency this priest, Eberhard, as one most faithful to myself, whom you may trust without fear to bring, as if he were myself, anything from me to you or from you to me.

LETTER 39

TO THEOBALD, COUNT OF CHAMPAGNE

A contemporary writer says of Count Theobald that he was distinguished among all the princes of France for his scrupulous justice.

He had a reputation for great piety and was a staunch friend of St. Bernard.

To the most praiseworthy Prince Theobald, prosperity and peace, from Bernard, the worthless servant of the servants of God at Clairvaux.

T pleased me more than a little to hear of your anxiety about the I state of my health. And while I see in this a proof of your kindness towards myself I cannot doubt that it is also a clear indication that you love God. Why else should a great man like yourself care about an insignificant person like me?

Therefore, since it is clear that you love God, and myself for the sake of God, it is all the more extraordinary that you should refuse a small petition of mine which is neither unreasonable nor unjust.

If I had asked for gold or silver or anything of that sort, I know you well enough to be sure that I should have received it.

I say 'if I had asked you' but in fact you have loaded me with generous kindness without my having even asked you. Why then do you deny me this thing that I ask of you, not for my own sake but for God's sake and your own sake? Do you consider it unbecoming that I should ask you to have pity on a fellow Christian, of however great a crime he is accused, after he has cleared himself?

Even if you do not consider that he has fully cleared himself, because he has not done so in your courts, at least you should admit him to your presence, and let him obtain your pardon by making satisfaction.

2. Do you not know who it is that threatens:

' When the time is ripe I will judge strictly'?

Do you think that he who will 'judge strictly ' will overlook our unjust judgements?

Do you not fear that 'as you have judged, so you will be judged'? Do you not realize that God can disinherit Count Theobald quite as easily as Count

Theobald has disinherited Humbert?

Even when the fault is open and inexcusable, so that mercy cannot be granted except at the jeopardy

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

of justice, you should punish with fear and sorrow, compelled more by the duty of your office than by personal rancour.

But when, as in this case, the crime is uncertain or excusable, you ought not to avoid, but willingly to embrace, the opportunity provided for being merciful without sacrificing justice.

This is the second time I have implored your Highness to have mercy on Humbert even as you yourself hope for the mercy of God, and begged you to harken to the promise of the Lord, ' Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy' or fear his warning, 'The merciless shall be judged mercilessly '.

Farewell.

LETTER 40

TO THE SAME, ON THE SAME SUBJECT

To the most merciful Prince Theobald, health and prayers from Bernard of Clairvaux.

I very much fear that I may become a nuisance by daring to besiege your already distracted ears with my repeated petitions. But what else canI do?

IfI fear to offend you with my many letters, how much more ought I not to fear offending God, to whom still greater fear is due, by ignoring the plight of an unfortunate like Humbert?

But in any case I beg you to pardon me for being unable not to pity the pitiful state of this man, all the more to be pitied for having been reduced from great riches to poverty and begging his bread; and his widow and orphans who are all the more wretched for being deprived of their father while he is still alive.

And so I return to vex you once more with my pleas on his behalf.

I am indeed most grateful to you for the favour I have found in your eyes over this matter, and for havin deigned to hear the true facts of his case from Humbert himself, and for having put aside the false accusations against him.

But your crowning act of charity, the arrangement you made for restoring Humbert's heritage to his wife and children, what has hindered its execution?

This is a matter of great surprise to me.

2. If other princes speak lightly or even falsely, no one considers it something new or wonderful.

But with Count Theobald it is a different matter.

We are by no means accustomed to hear ' Yea and Nay' from him.

His lightest word has always been as good as another man's promise, a small untruth from him as serious as a perjury from anyone else. Among the many virtues which ennoble your dignity and render your name famous throughout the world, your constant truthfulness has always been especially appreciated.

Who then has by encouragement or counsel undermined your great strength of purpose? Who has tried by guile to uproot from your heart that steadfastness in truth which is so holy, so excellent, and such an example for other princes?

Deceitfully and not sincerely does he

TO THEOBALD, COUNT OF CHAMPAGNE

love you, falsely and not faithfully does he counsel you, whoever tries through his own greed to cast a cloud over your glorious reputa~ tion for truthfulness and through I know not what hidden malice to bring to naught, to the injury of an unhappy man, the command your lips have uttered, a command pleasing to God, worthy of yourself, most mercifully just, most justly merciful.

I implore you, as you yourself hope for God's mercy, to beware lest 'the wicked man is triumphant and the heart of the poor man whom he has ensnared burn within him'.

Do you see to it, then, that you honour the promise you made first to Dom Norbert and then to myself, that you would restore their possessions to Humbert and his wife and children.

Farewell.

LETTER 41

TO THE SAME

[Rs the many marks you have given of your affection for me, what especially attracts me to you is that, although I have dared to importune you on behalf of many people, I never remember an occasion when you have turned me away.

And so it is not surprising that I have become more confident and do not hesitate to come to you once more, this time on behalf of the Canons of Larzicourt.1

I do not plead with you for their rights because such is my confidence in your sense of justice and law that I do not think even your greatest enemy would have any cause to fear when pleading his rights at your court.

But this is the favour which, though absent, I ask with them and for them, knowing it to be most important, namely that you shall grant them ready admittance to your august presence with greater promptness and favour than is usual, so that their neighbours, hearing you are well disposed towards them, may have due respect for their way of life; and that if by chance any of your ministers or soldiers should unjustly lay hands on their property or harass the peace in God which is theirs, they may know that by so doing they incur your displeasure.

2. There is still another thing I would ask you.

When I was passing through Bar the other day I met a woman in a pitiful condition, for her heart was full of bitterness.

She implored me with tears and prayers to intercede with you for her, and my heart was moved to pity for her troubles.

She is the wife of that man of yours Balin on whom you have lately visited many great penalties for the evil he has done.

Be merciful to her that you may obtain mercy.

3. And now that I have begun I shall continue to speak to my Lord.

Ina duel that was lately fought in the presence of the Prefect?

1 These were Canons Regular of St. Augustine.

Larzicourt is in the diocese of ChAlons-surMare and, in the time of Mabillon, the Jesuits had a house there. rae 2 Prepositus.

The natural translation is Provost, but as this word now has a purely ecclesiastical significance, and in this case he was a secular official, Prefect seems the best translation.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

of Bar, the defeated party immediately had his eyes put out under your orders.!_ And, as if to have been vanquished and to have lost his eyes were a mere nothing, your ministers, so he complains, have taken away his goods.

It is only right, if you will be so pleased, that enough of his goods should be returned for him at least to support his miserable life.

And the sin of the father ought not to be visited on his innocent sons, so that they cannot inherit the family property, if there is any.

4. Finally I hope that you will show all honour to the bishops that have met in your capital to discuss matters that concern God. May you devoutly and obediently assist the Legate who has decided to honour both you and your city by celebrating there so great a Council, and take pains to confirm and support all that he commands and institutes for the glory of God.

And may you receive with especial deference the Bishop of Langres who is my bishop as well as yours, and render him reverently and humbly the homage you owe for the fief you hold from him.

Farewell.

LETTER 42

TO THE SAME

ol a are two things I commend to you in this man whom you see: his poverty and his holy way of life.

If you do not pity the former, at any rate reverence the latter, and do not deny him what he has come so far and with such difficulty to ask you.

Help him, if not for his sake at any rate for your own, because, if his poverty makes you necessary to him, his holy way of life makes him just as necessary, if not more so, to you.

Of all those whom I have sent to you, I can think of none whom you would please God more by helping.

LETTER 43

TO THE SAME

I AM afraid of bothering you with my constant scribbling.

But in this case the compelling motive is the love of Christ as well as the need of friends.

This man I commend to you is old, as you see, he has also been sent from a good religious house, as I know, and I beg you not to send him empty away.

Moreover I beg you to furnish him with a letter to your uncle the King of England,? whom he is

1 In spite of the testimony of Mabillon and others it is hard to escape the impression that the brutal penalty referred to here was not for duelling, but for having been defeated in a duel,

Although clean contrary to the laws of the Church duelling was in fact very common at this epoch.

Apparently monasteries and great churchmen had lay champions to fight their duels for them.

2 Henry I of England was uncle of Theobald by Adela, daught illi sister of Henry I, and mother of Theobald. pechnd beee atthe ULL a

TO THEOBALD, COUNT OF CHAMPAGNE

on his way to see.

I would wish, were it possible, for all the servants of God to be your debtors, so that in return for what you give them of your goods they might one day receive you into the everlasting mansions.

LETTER 44

TO THE SAME

To the praiseworthy Prince Theobald, greetings and prayers from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

I FEAR to tire you with my constant letters when you are busy. But because it is charity, which is God, that compels me, I would have more reason to fear her if I did not obey.

If I have found any favour in your eyes, if you are still as just and kind as I have hitherto believed you to be, I beg you by the Lord Jesus, and by that bond of brotherhood that was conferred on you in our Chapter, I throw myself at your feet and beg you with my whole heart, that you show mercy to Anseric who is prepared to submit to your dominion in all things, saving his faith and the law.

You may count the favour you show him as shown to me.

It was by my advice that his castle came into your hands and, so great is my confidence in your trustworthiness, I have not yet regretted it.

LETTER 45

TO A FRIEND WHO WILL HAND THE PREVIOUS LETTER TO THEOBALD

To his friend greetings in the Lord from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux. s I, although a sinner, eagerly and faithfully pour forth my prayers

A to God for your sins, so I beg you, beloved, carefully to explain and faithfully to commend this sealed letter to the Count.

Speak to your lord for me, so that I may pray for you to the Lord of all.

LETTER 462

TO COUNT THEOBALD

To Count Theobald whom he believes to be a faithful minister of God, all that the prayers of a sinner can avail, from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

1 This is interesting as indicating that some sort of oblateship was conferred on benefactors in St. Bernard's day.

; 2 This is one of the letters first published in the Bulletin de l' Académie royale at Brussels in the year 1861.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

BEG you to lend an ear to this religious and to help him. To his I petition I add my own because I know his necessity since his abbot, by whom he was sent, is a friend of mine and very well known to me for his sanctity.1

It would take too long to tell you all about this man, who he is, where he comes from, and what necessity has beeen him to where he is now.

But I can briefly and truthfully say that whatever it may please you of your liberality to confer on him as a true servant of Christ, you may be sure you have conferred on Christ himself.

NOTE A letter to Henry, Archbishop of Sens (Benedictine Edition, 42), is not included in collections of St. Bernard's letters but in his treatises, under the title, De Moribus et

Officio Episcoporum Tractatus, or ' A Treatise on the Life and Duties of a Bishop

LETTER: 47

TO HENRY, ARCHBISHOP OF SENS

. 7 our kind reception of my last request gives me grounds for hoping Nene you will not deny mea further one.

I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the kindness I have formerly experienced from you, and I am bold to ask you for a favour which will place me still further in your debt.

Permit the monks of Molesme, I beg you, to possess the church, which they are painfully aware has caused them to lose something of your favour, with the same liberty wherewith it is certain that they held it in the time of your predecessors.

LETTER 48

TO THE SAME

s soon as I have been satisfied by the concession of one request, I A boldly return with another—so you see how much I count on your kindness!

It is great presumption on my part, but you must not be angry, for it has its source in charity, not temerity.

Your Paternity will remember, unless I am mistaken, that at Troyes you gave up all the claims you had against the monks of Molesme for the church at Senan.

And now the monks complain that you are making all sorts of new claims to which, so they say, you have no title.

I beg you to remit these claims of yours and I am confident you will not refuse me this request.

You have already granted me so many great favours that I am sure you will not deny me this trifle.

Farewell.

THE QUARREL BETWEEN LOUIS VI AND THE BISHOP OF PARIS

THE letter which follows refers to an unfortunate quarrel between Stephen of Senlis, Bishop of Paris, and Louis VI, surnamed ' The Fat', King of France.

The

rohan'

, ..

. propter religionem suam'.

TO POPE HONORIUS II

'ofa origins of the crisis are obscure and the threads of the story become very entangled.

It appears that the bishop tried to introduce certain much needed reforms into his diocese.

The king supported him in this until the reforms touched the vested interests of the bishop's chapter.

The dean and the archdeacons, who seem to have been prime movers in the trouble, appealed to the king for protection.

Louis supported them and forbade the bishop to change any of the established customs.

The bishop, very conscious of his strong canonical position, regarded this as unwarrantable interference, and seems in some way to have irritated the king who confiscated his

'regalia'.

Whereupon the bishop put the diocese under an interdict.

This vigorous measure led to violence, and the bishop had to fly for his life.

The king then confiscated all his goods and all the goods of his supporters.

It is probably at this juncture that the letter to Louis from ' Stephen, Abbot of Citeaux, and the whole assembly 'of Cistercian abbots and brethren' printed in the Benedictine Edition

(No. 45) was written.

Mabillon dates it for the year 1127, but more probably it was not written until 11209.

Apparently the king did meet certain bishops and abbots, among whom were the Archbishop of Sens, St. Bernard, and Hugh of Macon, Abbot of Pontigny.

But little Sa seems to have come of the meeting.

The bishops and abbots were received rudely and dismissed summarily.

The threat of an appeal to Rome made matters worse, for the king got in first and persuaded Honorius II to lift the interdict.

Then the king became more high handed and overbearing than ever.

Precisely how the affair ended is not known.

But there was a meeting between the bishop and the king at which some sort of peace was patched up.

In Paris the ill feeling died hard.

LETTER 49

TO POPE HONORIUS II

To the Sovereign Pontiff Honorius, whatever the prayer of sinners can avail from the abbots of the Poor of Christ, Hugh of Pontigny, and Bernard of Clairvaux. ee tears and lamentations of the bishops and indeed of the whole

- Church cannot be ignored by us who, however unworthy, are her children.

We speak of what we have seen.

A great crisis has drawn us from our cloister into public life, and we speak of what we have seen there.

We have seen with sorrow, and sorrowfully we record the great wound that has been inflicted upon the honour of the Church in the reign of Honorius.

The wrath of the king had already begun to bend before the humility, or rather the firmness of the bishops, when lo! the supreme authority of the Supreme Pontiff intervenes to overthrow their firmness and to confirm his pride. We certainly know, it is indeed clear from your rescript, that the command to lift this just and necessary interdict was sneaked from you by a lie.

But should not malice, when at last the lie has been detected, be made to feel that it has over-reached itself and not the majesty of the Supreme

Pontiff?

What does astonish us is that judgement should have been given on the hearing of only one of the parties, and that it should have been passed against the absent party. We do not rashly presume to censure this, but we do mention with filial love to your fatherly heart

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

that the wicked man derives great triumph from this, and the heart of the poor man burns within him.

But how long you should allow the former to triumph or how much compassion you should show to the latter, it is not for us to dictate to you, but for you, Holy Father, to consult your own heart.

Farewell.

LETTER 50

TO THE SAME, IN THE NAME OF GEOFFREY, BISHOP OF CHARTRES

Concerning the same affair as the former letters.

It is difficult not to be favourably impressed, as so often with the letters of St. Bernard, with the courteous but very robust attitude of this letter to Pope Honorius.

HERE is no need to unfold to you, Holy Father, the whole sad story d ie: the quarrel with the king or to go into its causes again, for I do not doubt that you have been moved to the depths of your heart by what you have heard from the holy Bishop of Paris.

But so that the support of my own testimony shall not be lacking to my brother bishop,

I think it necessary to inform your Holiness of what I myself have seen and heard.

When we received the very moderate complaint of the bishop, all the bishops of the archdiocese of Sens, together with our venerable metropolitan and certain other religious persons whom we had summoned, represented to the king with becoming humility the evil thing he had done. We asked him to return to the bishop his goods which he had quite unjustly seized.

But we received no satisfaction at all. However, believing that we would have recourse to ecclesiastical penalties in defence of the Church, he at length became afraid and declared he would make full restitution.

But almost at the same hour that he did this your rescript arrived lifting the interdict from his domains.

Whereupon most unfortunately, fortified in his evil purposes, he refused to honour the promises he had made.

Nevertheless the day upon which he again promised that he would fulfil his undertaking, we presented ourselves to him, but we looked for peace and it did not come, we expected better times and found confusion.

The effect of your rescript has been that what he has unjustly seized he is still more unjustly keeping and that day by day, in all places, he is seizing the property of the bishop with all the more confidence now that it can be held with impunity.

The most just (so it seems to me) interdict of our bishop has been lifted by your command, what we were ready to do with the hope of obtaining peace has been suspended for fear of offending you, and in consequence we have become the laughing stock of our neighbours.

How long will it seem good to your Holiness that this state of affairs should continue ?

TO CARDINAL HAIMERIC

LETTER 51

TO CARDINAL HAIMERIC, CHANCELLOR OF THE HOLY SEE

It is clear from this very instructive letter that someone had been making mischief in Rome about St. Bernard.

There is nothing new or surprising in this.

It was indeed inevitable that a man like St. Bernard should have been the victim of petty jealousy and even the quite sincere distrust of men with narrow horizons.

It is not always wicked people who stone the prophets, more often it is the perfectly sincere formalists.

To the illustrious Haimeric, Chancellor of the Holy Roman See, salvation in eternity, from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

ANNOT wretchedness escape envy? Must truth breed hatred even C for the poor and needy?

Should I be glad or should I deplore that I am treated as an enemy?

Is it because I spoke the truth or because I did right?

This is for your brothers in Curia to decide who "speak evil of the deaf' against the law and who, regardless of the Prophet's curse, "call evil good and good evil'.

What have I done that displeases them?

Is it because at Ch4lons a man discredited on all sides was removed from his stewardship for squandering the goods of the Lord in the Church of Verdun over which he had been placed ?4

Or because at Cambrai Fulbert, who was manifestly wrecking his monastery, was forced to withdraw in favour of Parvin whom everyone considered a wise and prudent servant?

Or because at Laon his sanctuary was restored to the Lord after being a brothel of Venus ??

For which of these things do you, I do not say stone me, for I would not set myself in the place of my Lord, but tear me to pieces?

This is what I might have answered you rightly and with pride if I could have claimed for myself any credit for these things.

But why am I blamed for the actions of others?

Or supposing they were mine, why am I blamed for them as though they were evil?

No one could be so imprudent as to doubt or so impudent as to deny that these things were well and justly done.

You can choose between either denying or admitting that I am the author of them.

If Iam, then I am wrongfully rebuked and deserve praise for doing what was praiseworthy.

If I am not, then I am no more worthy of blame than I am of praise.

1 Henry, Bishop of Verdun, was suspected of corrupt administration of the funds of the Church.

He consulted St. Bernard on the matter and St. Bernard advised him to resign, so as to avoid public scandal.

His resignation was accepted by the Pope's Legate, Matthew, Bishop of Albano, at a Council held at Chalons-sur-Marne in 1129.

; 2 The Abbey of St. John at Laon is referred to here. The lax and scandalous life of the nuns there had for long been a cause of grave anxiety to the bishop, Bartholomew le Vir.

A council was held at Arras in 1128, attended by the king (for the abbey was a royal foundation), the Archbishop of Rheims, the Bishops of Laon, Arras, and Soissons, as well as several abbots, including St. Bernard.

The reform of the abbey was decreed and confirmed by the Pope through his Legate, Matthew, Bishop of Albano.

This time the king made no objections, probably, as Williams in his Life of St. Bernard says, because the state of affairs was too scandalous to admit of any doubt as to the correct procedure.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

This is a new sort of detraction, not dissimilar to what Balaam did who covered the people with blessings when he had been summoned to curse them.

For what could be more just and pleasing than that while intending to rebuke me you should have only commended me the more, so as to have used all unknowingly praises instead of insults; than that while intending to disparage me, you should have praised me unwittingly?

It is as if your brothers in Curia were reproaching me or rather crediting me with other people's good deeds, because they could not find any evil that I had done.

Iam not disturbed by undeserved blame nor do I accept unmerited praise.

I am not greatly concerned about things for which I am not responsible.

Let them praise, if they wish, or blame, if they dare, for the first my lord of Albano, for the second my lord of Rheims, and for the third the same archbishop together with the bishop of Laon, the king, and many other reverend persons.

None of them will deny responsibility for these affairs or that they were the chief persons concerned.

If they have done well it does not concern me any more than if they have done ill.

Is it my whole and only fault that I was present on those occasions, I who am only fit to live hidden away,

I who am my own judge, accuser, and witness of my life, to see that my actions become my profession and that the name I bear of monk is justified by my solitary existence?

I was present, I do not deny it.

But I was summoned and dragged there.

If this does not please my friends in Curia, it pleases me just as little.

I wish that I had not gone there, I wish that I need never go on similar occasions.

I wish that I had not lately been where I saw with shame a violent tyrant armed against the Church by the Apostolic authority, as if he were not raging enough without such help.1_ When a sudden load was placed upon my shoulders by the indisputable authority of the Apostolic rescript, then I felt, in the words of the Prophet, my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth.

'I was dumb and patient so that I would not speak even to good purpose', when I saw the innocent suddenly covered with ignominy by that rescript and wicked men rejoice the more in their wickedness and delight exceedingly in their vile deeds, and my sorrow was renewed within me.

The ungodly was shown mercy so that, according to the words of the Prophet, he should not learn his lesson.

He who in the land of the righteous worked iniquity was freed of the most just interdict under which his domains were held.

3. For reasons of this sort, even were there no others, I am vexed at having been embroiled in these disputes, especially as I knew that I was not concerned personally in them.

Iam vexed, but I am dragged into them none the less.

But by whom can I better hope to be relieved of all this than by you, the best of men?

You do not lack 1 See Letters 49 and so.

TO POPE HONORIUS II

the power to do this, and I see that you do not lack the will.

I am delighted to know that you are displeased that I should have been concerned in these affairs.

It is most just and friendly of you. May it please you to bestir yourself in the matter, and because you understand that it is expedient for your friend and becoming for a monk, see that what we both want is speedily effected for the sake of justice and for the salvation of my soul. May it please you to bid the noisy and importunate frogs to keep their holes and remain contented with their ponds.

See that they are heard no more in the councils of the mighty or seen in the palaces of the great, that no necessity and no authority may have the power to drag them into public affairs and embroil them in disputes. In this way perhaps your friend can avoid the stigma of presumption.

Indeed I do not know how I was able to incur it, for I know that it was my purpose and determination never, except on the business of my Order, to leave my monastery unless the Legate of the Apostolic See or my own bishop bade me do so.

As you know very well, a person in my humble state may not refuse the command of such authorities, except by the privilege of some higher authority.

So if I can ever achieve this through your good offices, then without any doubt I shall have peace at home and leave others at peace.

But I do not think that because I am hidden away and keeping silent the troubles of the Church will cease so long as the Roman Curia continues to pass judgements to the prejudice of the absent in order to please those who are at hand.

Farewell.

LETTER 52

TO POPE HONORIUS

This letter is written by St. Bernard in the name of the Abbots of Citeaux and Pontigny, on behalf of Henry, Archbishop of Sens.

Henry, surnamed the Wild Boar, was converted from a worldly life by St. Bernard.

He ceased to be a courtier and began to take the work of his diocese seriously.

When the Bishop of Paris got into trouble with the king (see Letters 49, 50 and 51) Henry came to his support and drew the guns on to himself.

To the Sovereign Pontiff, Honorius, what is due to their most reverend Lord and loving Father from his servants and, if they are deemed worthy, sons, from Stephen of Citeaux, Hugh of Pontigny, and Bernard of Clairvaux.

E who are compelled, by reason of our sins, to shelter in WW itotistas pray without ceasing for you and for the Church committed to your care, rejoicing with the bride over such a faithful uardian, and with the friend of the Bridegroom over such fruitful

Ebods And so with confidence and loyalty we advise your Paternity

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

that we are seeing with sorrow our mother, the Church, assailed in our kingdom.

As far as we who are on the spot can understand, it is more zeal for righteousness, piety of life, and religion itself in the persons of the bishops than the bishops themselves that the king is persecuting.

Your Holiness will easily see this if you understand that it is only now, when they are living in a manner becoming their priesthood and creditable to their sacred calling, that they are treated as enemies: before this, when they were living worldly lives, they were treated as intimate friends and shown every honour.

For this reason the king attacked the Bishop of Paris, when he was innocent, with grave insults and injuries.

He was shaken, but he did not fall, for the Lord upheld him with his hand, when yours was against him.1

And now for the same reason, he has turned against my lord of Sens and is trying to shake and overthrow his constancy, so that when the archbishop has been cast down, he can set about the suffragan bishops as he likes.

No one can dispute that it is really religion which the king is assailing.

He openly proclaims that it is the destruction of his kingdom and the enemy of his crown.

Another Herod, he is not troubled about Christ in the manger now, but envies Christ reigning in the churches.

We do not believe that he has anything at all against the Archbishop of Sens except his spirit of zeal: it is this that he is trying to extinguish in him, as he has tried to do in others.

If we are thought to be deceived or to be deceiving in this matter, your own prompt examination will reveal the facts so that, as we hope and pray,

'judgement may come forth from thy countenance' 'to protect innocence and keep right before thy eyes'.

If on the other hand, the matter is again submitted to the presence and power of the king, it is clear that the just man will be delivered into the hands of his enemies.

LETTER 53

TO THE SAME

If it should seem good to your Holiness, it would be desirable that the cause of my lord of Sens should be judged in your presence.

For if he has to answer his adversaries in the presence and power of the king, who hates him, he would be like a man delivered into the hands of his enemies.

Whatever your Holiness decrees must be final, so it is much to be hoped that your decision may result in what will be unquestionably good. The only thing we, and all the religious who stand with us, beg with all humility is that if by any chance he should feel himself oppressed in the presence of the mighty, as is wont to happen, he may have recourse to the paternal heart of his Father, which we have

eee .

* .

. pulsata est, sed non quassata; quia Dominus supposuit manum suam, cum vestram opposuit.

Eales translates:

'. .

. yet he has not been crushed, because the Lord arrested the king's hand when he opposed yours '.

TO CARDINAL HAIMERIC

never heard that you denied to anyone in trouble.

Otherwise Joseph, the just man, must take care for the child and his mother, because even now Herod is seeking to destroy Christ in the diocese of Sens.

To speak the truth openly, it is quite manifest that what the king is persecuting in the archbishop is his new religious fervour, for, when he was living his old worldly life, his interests were furthered in every way and he was sent into his diocese completely secure from all attack.

LETTER 54

TO CARDINAL HAIMERIC

This letter concerns the same matter as the above.

To the illustrious Haimeric, Chancellor of the Holy Roman See, health and whatever the prayers of a sinner can avail, from Brother

Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux. or how long will it be true that ' all those who are resolved to lead

F a holy life in Jesus Christ will meet with persecution'?

For how long will ' godless men bear rule in the domain of the just'? Who will grant that the just may begin to withstand 'those who thwart all their striving'? Who can now endure the conflict which rages between heaven and earth so fiercely, that while angels delight over the correction of a sinner, the sons of Adam gnash their teeth with rage and pine away?

As if Jesus had not suffered to bring peace to heaven and earth with his blood; as if God in his person had not reconciled the world with himself.

Formerly, when the archbishop was ruled by the desires of his heart, he was praised; when his life was worldly, he was esteemed. But now they are looking for simony under the swaddling clothes of the child Jesus, and their spiteful curiosity is probing for the corpse of dead vice under new born virtue.

You see that even now Jesus is a sign to be denied for these men.

By him I implore you, for his sake I pray you.

He has claims upon your reverence, and upon your pity.

Stand up for him now in the person of the archbishop, and you will have him to stand by you in the hour of your judgement.

LET TERSSS

TO THE SAME

our friend and mine, the Lord Bishop of Chartres, desires me to \ eae you that it is quite untrue that he wished for permission to set out for Jerusalem, as certain people have tried to persuade the Pope.

He has neither the intention nor the inclination to do so.

Although he had greatly wished to set out, yet he was not able to do so without giving grave scandal to all of our good people, who feared

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

that his absence would do more harm to his own flock than his presence would do good to strangers.

So much for the bishop. Now let me speak a little for myself according to the words of Scripture:

' Thy own self befriend, doing God's will'.

Do you wish me to be burdened and occupied by public affairs and to gain nothing by being relieved from my own responsibilities, because Iam immersed in other people's business? IfI have found any favour in your eyes, see that lam released from these burdens, so that I may have time to pray for my own sins and yours.

Certainly I consider it is safer for myself to obey the Lord Pope, but only if he would but deign to note my limitations, only if he would understand that I am not able to do these things, or at least only with great difficulty.

And now I have said enough to a wise man.

The aforesaid bishop has asked for one of my booklets to send to you.

But I had not anything by me at the time which I could believe worthy of your attention.

However I have lately brought out a little work on Grace and Free Will.

I will gladly send you this, if you wish it.

LETTER 56

TO THE SAME

HAVE sent you letters by many people on behalf of many people, I but now ' behold, Iam here; I myself that spoke'.

In these two people, you see three; because where they are, there also am I. In their hearts I always dwell, more safely and more gratefully than in my own.

This will only seem incredible to one who does not know the strength of friendship, and the power of love, or who does not believe that there was 'one heart and one soul in all the company of believers'.

Therefore he who sees these two, sees also myself; although not in the body. And what they say, Lalso say; but through their lips.

I grant that I am absent in the body, but that is the least part of me.

Should anyone see only my face, he could say, quite truthfully and without error, that he has seen me and not just a part of me; yet it would only have been a part of me that he had seen, and a small part.

I can therefore say with far greater truth that I am present wherever I feel my will, spirit, and affection to be, which are indeed the better and more effective part of me, even though in body

Iam not there.

You must know therefore that we are one person in three bodies, united not indeed in equal sanctity, in which I feel myself far inferior to both of them, but in equality of will and great concord of spirit.

And why should not the bond of charity effect this unity of spirit among different people when we know that the union of the body can unite "two in one flesh'?

I would wish to unite yourself as a fourth, if you should deem it fitting and concur in the same unity of love.

You can easily achieve this if you do not consider it beneath you, and I only beg that you should let them know that you do not.

TO CARDINAL HAIMERIC

LETTER 57

TO THE SAME

I DESIRE and beg for the love you owe to God and myself that the bearer of this letter, the venerable Abbot Vivian of Hautecombe, with whom I am on terms of intimate friendship because of his piety, may find you ready to help him.

So much for the abbot, and now with regard to yourself.

" What', I ask, ' doth it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of his own soul?

Or what exchange shall a man give for his soul?'

Not the whole world would be enough. How precious is the soul redeemed by the blood of Christ!

Grievous the loss of a soul which could only be repaired by the cross of Christ!

If it fall again into sin, sin even unto death, who shall now restore it?

Is there another Christ, or shall he be crucified for it again? Upon this matter I would have you always mindful of that counsel of the Wise Man: "Remember at all times what thou must come to at last, and thou shalt never do amiss '.

1G APOE SS.)

TO GEOFFREY, BISHOP OF CHARTRES

To the most faithful and wise servant of God, Geoffrey, Bishop of Chartres, that he may be enlightened with the glory of the everlasting hills, from Bernard, servant of the Poor of Christ at Clairvaux.

He more fame and honour your worthy life brings you, the greater 1h burden it lays upon you.

This letter is written on behalf of the bearer.

Like many others, of whom you know not a few, he has been drawn from afar by the fragrance of your virtues to seek with confidence the pity that is open to all, hoping to find not only advice as to what he ought to do, but also help to do it.

His case is this.

He was enclosed in a cell with the intention of living as a recluse for the love of God.

He himself will tell you why he transgressed by coming out.

Now he intends to return to the life to which he was dedicated and he proposes to do this with your favour, if he can obtain it by my mediation with which he has taken care to fortify himself.

Therefore act with your accustomed generosity and help the poor wretch; or rather, as you recognize that you have the same duty to all, learned and simple, make haste to snatch this wandering sheep of Christ from the jaws of the wolf, lead him back to his former pastures, and sce that he is enclosed in some cell near one of your sheepfolds

. unless something else more expedient occurs to your mind that you judge permissible and are able to persuade him to do.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 59

TO THE SAME

po not know whether Dom Norbert is going to Jerusalem or not.

I When I last saw him a few days ago and was deemed worthy to drink in his heavenly wisdom, he never mentioned the matter to me.

He spoke of the coming of Antichrist and, on my asking him when he thought this would be, he declared himself quite certain that it would be during this present generation. But when I heard the reasons he had for his certainty, I did not feel compelled to agree with him.

He concluded by saying that he would live to see a general persecution of the Church.

2. May I remind you of that poor and exiled man, Humbert?

He twice begged you, when you were at Troyes, to intercede for him with Count Theobald who has dispossessed him.

And now I join my prayers with his to implore your aid in the matter.

I myself have written to the Count but, not finding favour, I achieved nothing.

3. And now I must tell you something which you will be very glad to hear.

Your Stephen is * not running his course like a man in doubt of his goal; or fighting his battle like a man who wastes his blows upon the air'.

Pray that he may so run as to reach the goal, so fight as to conquer.

LETTER 60

TO THE SAME

Dom Mabillon believes that this letter concerns the same person as Letter 58.

I AM told by this man that you are still hesitating to satisfy his desire and petition, because you believe that it conflicts with his first vow to go to Jerusalem.

Should you wish for my opinion on the matter, I would say that lesser vows ought not to hinder greater ones, and that God does not exact fulfilment of a promise if something better has been done in its stead.

Would you, for instance, be justly angry with a man who, on the day allotted for the payment of his debt, paid you more than he owed you? But if you are afraid of offending his bishop, I can set your mind at rest on that score, because I happen to know that so far from offending him you will please him very much by helping this man.

LETTER 61

TO EBAL, BISHOP OF CH ALONS

To the Lord Ebal, by the grace of God Bishop of Chilons, whatever the prayers of a sinner can obtain, from Brother Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

TO EBAL, BISHOP OF CHALONS

[' is not well for you to ignore the danger which threatens that small ship. I refer to the church of All Saints which, under your own eyes, is drifting without a helmsman.! The matter is your responsibility, and I cannot but wonder with what reason and what sort of conscience you can desist from requiring acceptance of the post from that ecclesiastic himself, a religious man, they say, who has been elected by religious persons, even if the supineness and indolence of certain people do not deserve it.

I have heard that these people object to the man for no other reason than that he is religious, and that they have presumed to force your hand in the matter of electing someone else on the pretext that someone who was not a stranger would be more agreeable and friendly, better known and more acceptable to the townspeople, more familiar with local customs, and better able to administer the affairs of the church.

But what they really mean is that they want someone who will not rebuke their vices, who will wink at, or at any rate not dare to oppose their wretched habits.

But do not listen to them.

Whether they like it or not, you should do all you can to install this man who is of good repute, to care for that church.

If he is the sort of man that report says he is, God will undoubtedly be with him and pour out his grace upon him, so as to render him pleasing to all, and successful in all his works.

2. And if it should happen that this man can in no wise be had for the post, perhaps because those persons I have referred to are not worthy of him; then let some other suitable person be procured from another religious house.

But let him not be such a man as they want, one, that is, who would encourage their carnal tastes, but someone who would so arrange the affairs of the Church as to put the care of souls before all else. When the two monasteries of St. Peter and St. Urban were deprived of their pastors' care in a similar manner, your predecessor of holy memory, the Lord William, quite regardless of the labour of the long journey and the sharpness of the winter, went in person twice (unless I am mistaken) to Cluny and once to Dijon.

But only with the greatest difficulty by his prayers and supplications was he able to bring that good man Dom Hugh, who has since died, from Dijon, and the venerable Dom Radulf, who is yet with us, from Cluny, so as to put one of them over each of the monasteries, and all because he did not think that he could safely commit these monasteries to the care of one of their own monks. I have cited this example so that you may see how in the matter on hand it behoves you to be not less cautious and careful.

1 The Abbey of Canons Regular at Chalons-sur-Marne.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 62

TO GUILENCUS, BISHOP OF LANGRES

To his Lord and Father Guilencus, by the grace of God Bishop of Langres, the complete devotion of Brother Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux. s soon as I heard of the death of Archdeacon Garnier! I felt that A I must at once approach you to plead with you, and even to advise you, if you should think that advice from a person like myself would be worth listening to, to the end that you may generously exalt mercy over justice with regard to the property held by the church of St. Stephen at Dijon, by renouncing the rights which you have over it. Iam fully aware that the property should return to you according to the arrangement agreed upon and confirmed in writing at the chapter of Langres when your son Hubert was constituted first abbot of the house.

But I know too that it would be an occasion of grave scandal to the canons and a great reproach to the abbot if you should, under any pretext whatsoever, lay your hands upon the property which that church has held for so long, because they would immediately accuse the abbot of establishing a bad precedent, since as soon as he entered office the church had suffered on his account so great a loss.

I therefore beg you of your great mercy, and in begging I also advise you, to spare so many of Christ's weaker servants such a scandal and at the same time to release his representative of any reproach by conceding to that church what it has held by right for so long."

LETTER 63

TO THE SAME

I COME to you as a suppliant and not, I hope, as an importunate busybody, on behalf of the church of Molesme.

There are several reasons which encourage me to believe that there is no fear of your rejecting my petition.

First, it is not for a strange church that I am petitioning you, but for one of your own.

Second, I understand that the church is not claiming anything that does not belong to it, but only its own rights.

Third, there is one associating himself with me who on his own account is of sufficient consequence to ask and obtain far greater things; he is the Count Theobald.

And if I add my own prayers as a fourth reason I do not think I should be merely rashly presuming.

Even I have not so little faith in myself as to hesitate, if needs be, to rely boldly on your well-tried kindness and to approach you for anything that seems reasonable.

Farewell.

? He had been abbot at the church before Canons Regular were introduced in 1113.

® This was in fact done by Guilencus in the year 1129.

TO RICUIN, BISHOP OF TOUL

LETTER 64

TO RICUIN, BISHOP OF TOUL

To the Reverend Father Lord Ricuin, by the grace of God Bishop of Toul, health and prayers from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

HIS poor sinner tells me that you have sent him to me, who am also a sinner, for spiritual counsel.

For the present I have no better advice to offer him than that he should return to the bosom of your fatherly love and 'seek guidance from the lips of the priest'.

In view of my own insignificance and the limits of my office I am always most careful not to overreach myself by presuming to lay penances on people especially in criminal cases, except when the persons are under my own jurisdiction.

It would be exceedingly rash of me to undertake the functions of a bishop, being myself no more than a sinner like other men and quite unskilled in all such matters.

When any serious question arises which either I do not know how to settle, or cannot settle, or do not dare to settle, like everyone else I refer it, as is only fitting, to the decision of the bishop, and am not easy about it until I have been fortified by his judgement or advice.

And so let this sick sheep be cared for by his own shepherd, a shepherd who knows the canons and is able to administer the medicine of suitable penance.

May God forbid that this soul for whom Christ died should die in his sins, and that the chief Shepherd should require his blood of your hands.

As God has inspired him to leave the world, I have persuaded him to do so, if by your intervention an old and poor man like him can gain admission into some convent of holy men within your diocese.

Full of days may you, at length, holy and venerable father, be received into the courts of the Lord where one day is better than a thousand.

BET TERSOS

TO HENRY, BISHOP OF VERDUN

Of this bishop, see Letter 51.

To the Lord Henry, by the grace of God Bishop of Verdun, health and prayers from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

HIS poor woman whom for many years Satan has bound in tangled | Bee of sin has asked my advice on the state of her soul.

She has taken what I said to her so much to heart that now, after much wandering for many years, the poor stray is prepared to return with confidence to the care of her shepherd.

And he will help her all the more readily and eagerly for knowing that he will have to give a

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

strict account of his charge to the Lamb of God who died for her.

It was my duty to correct her when she was wandering; it is now yours, not to despise her as a sinner, but to welcome her back as a penitent.

If the unhappy story which she has told me of herself be true, she must either be reconciled to her former husband, or else they must both live single lives.

LETTER 66

TO THE SAME

ONCERNING those matters which it has pleased your Excellency to G enquire of me, I can only say that either I am deceived or else that your informant is deceiving.

But experience has taught me to distrust my feeble memory and I am loath to suspect in a brother such grave falsehood, so if there is anything in what he has said I am nevertheless quite certain, and wish you to believe without any doubt, that I have never accused you or reproached you with anything, in any way, to anyone.!

It would be the sheerest presumption for one in my insignificant position to blame bishops and those who are not present to answer for themselves, for things that do not concern me and of which I have no proof.

Iam most touched by what you say of your desire to meet me and certainly nothing would please me more than to know you better and to be better known to you.

With a like confidence I venture to petition your highness and recommend to your benevolence the monastery which under your auspices and, so I hear, with your encouragement, my reverend brother and co-abbot, Guy of Trois-Fontaines, has undertaken to build.?

Regard as done for myself whatever you do for him and let him see how much you care for me.

Farewell.

LETTER 67

TO ALEXANDER, BISHOP OF LINCOLN

This letter concerns a young canon named Philip who, on his way to Jerusalem, turned aside to pause at Clairvaux, and was blessed to find there his vocation, even as St. Stephen Harding on his way to Rome found it at Molesme.

Alexander was Bishop of Lincoln from 1123-1147, and was known as Alexander the Magnificent.

To the honourable Lord Alexander, by the grace of God Bishop of Lincoln, that he may desire honour in Christ rather than in the world, from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

1 See note 1, Letter 51, p. 79.

2 La Chalade in the diocese of Verdun.

TO ALEXANDER, BISHOP OF LINCOLN

OI I writs to tell you that your Philip has found a short cut to Jerusalem and has arrived there very quickly.

He crossed 'the vast ocean stretching wide on every hand' with a favourable wind in a very short time, and he has now cast anchor on the shores for which he was making.

Even now he stands in the courts of Jerusalem and ' whom he had heard tidings of in Ephrata he has found in the woodland plains, and gladly reverences in the place where he has halted in his journey '.

He has entered the holy city and has chosen his heritage with them of whom it has been deservedly said: 'You are no longer exiles or aliens; the saints are your fellow citizens, you belong to God's household'.

His going and coming is in their company and he has become one of them, glorifying God and saying with them:

' We find our true home in heaven'.

He is no longer an inquisitive onlooker, but a devout inhabitant and an enrolled citizen of Jerusalem; but not of that earthly Jerusalem to which Mount Sinai in Arabia is joined, and which is in bondage with her children, but of that free Jerusalem which is above and the mother of us all.

2. And this, if you want to know, is Clairvaux.

She is the Jerusalem united to the one in heaven by whole-hearted devotion, by conformity of life, and by a certain spiritual affinity. Here, so Philip promises himself, will be his rest for ever and ever.

He has chosen to dwell here because he has found, not yet to be sure the fulness of vision, but certainly the hope of that true peace, 'the peace of God which surpasses all our thinking'.

But this blessing, although he has received it from on high, he wishes to have, and is indeed quite sure that he does have, with your good will, because "a wise son maketh the father glad'.

He begs you of your fatherly love, and I unite my prayers with his, that the arrangement he has made for his creditors to have his prebend, may be allowed to stand, so that he may not become

(God forbid) a defaulter and breaker of his covenant, and his daily sacrifice of a contrite heart be unacceptable because a brother has something against him.

He also begs that the house which he has built for his mother on Church lands with the ground which he has assigned to it, may remain hers so long as she lives.

So much for Philip.

" Ren now I turn to yourself.

I feel impelled and even inspired by the Charity of God to exhort you not to regard the passing glory of the world as if it would never pass away, and so lose the glory that endures for ever; not to love your possessions more than your self or only for your own sake, and so lose both your possessions and your self; not to allow the flattery of present prosperity to hide from you the inevitable end, so that when it comes it will bring endless adversity ; not to allow the pleasures of this world to beget for you and conceal from you the endless woe which they beget by concealing, so that when you think death is far off, it may come upon you unawares,

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

and while you are counting on a long life, life itself may suddenly leave you ill prepared, according to what has been written:

"It is just when men are saying, All quiet, all safe, that doom will fall upon them suddenly, like the pangs that come to a woman in travail, and there will be no escape from it'.

LETTER 68

TO ALVISUS, ABBOT OF ANCHIN IN THE DIOCESE OF ARRAS

A monk named Godwin had left his abbey to join the Cistercians, and soon after died.

His former abbot appears to have been angry at losing one of his best religious but, on hearing of his death, immediately put aside his anger and, perhaps, attended his funeral.

In this letter St. Bernard congratulates the abbot on his forbearance and apologizes most abjectly for having offended him by accepting his monk.

Alvisus later became Bishop of Arras.

To Alvisus, Abbot of Anchin monastery, cordial greetings from Bernard.

M* God reward you with his mercy for the mercy you have shown to your holy son Godwin.

For I heard that as soon as you received news of his death you forgot old differences and not only satisfied but reaffirmed your friendship.t

Most appropriately you behaved as a father rather than a judge and tried, as a true father should, to satisfy the claims of charity and pity. You could not have acted better or in a way more excellent and worthy of yourself.

But who would have believed it possible!

Truly ' who else can know man's thoughts except man's spirit that is within him'.

All the sternness and severity which you formerly showed him, all the anger which was evident in your words and looks, left you.

At the first mention of your son's death your fatherly heart was touched and all those signs of your anger were immediately put aside, as if they had been mere masks put on for the time to hide the true goodness and kindness of your nature.

And so mercy and truth met in you and, because mercy prevailed over judgement, justice and peace have embraced.

I think I can infer what happened in your soul when in the interests of truth you were aroused with zeal for justice and girded yourself to avenge the injury you believed had been done.

Like Joseph you prudently hid your mercy until you could no longer endure to do so when, also as in the case of Joseph, it broke forth from the hidden fount of pity in you and meeting with truth it soothed anger, tempered zeal, and made peace with justice.

2. Then from the fountain of your pure heart flowed like streams of crystal water such thoughts as these. Why should I be angry?

"i ers ; ++ non amicitie, consolatorem potius quam ultorem vos exhibuistis.

Eales translates:

- » remembering only your friendship for him, you behaved with kindness, not resentment ',

TO ALVISUS, ABBOT OF ANCHIN

Surely it is better to have mercy according to those words of Scripture, "It is mercy not sacrifice that wins favour with me', better to preserve the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace, and to await the mercy that has been promised to the merciful.

After all was he not my son?

Who can be angry for long with his son?

Or did he cease to be my son as soon as he left me?

But was he no longer with me in spirit when he left me in the body?

Could even death have taken him from me?

Is the liberty of the hearts of those who love each other restricted by the necessities of body and place?

Surely neither distance of place nor the absence or death of the body can separate those whom one spirit quickens and one love unites?

And if ' the souls of the just are in God's hands' surely those who have put off the flesh and rest in him are not separated from us who are still struggling on in the flesh, but not according to the flesh.

Therefore he was mine when he was alive and is still mine now he is dead, and I shall know him again when

I reach the heavenly home.

He could only be separated from me if he could be torn from the hand of God.

3. And so your very affection for your son excuses him, but what reasons can you have, my father, for excusing me?

What adequate satisfaction can I make to you? What satisfaction can you ask of me for the great injury I have done you in receiving your son when he left you? What canI say?

If I tell you that I did not take him in (and would that I could say this without sin), it would be an obvious lie.

If I admit that I received him, but maintain that it was right for me to have done so, I would seem to be excusing myself.

If I take the safer course and admit that I have done wrong, there is a question of how far I have done wrong. I do not say in self-defence,

"Who would not have taken him in?'

I say, 'Who would have turned that holy man away when he was knocking on the door or would have sent him off when he had been received?'

Who can tell whether God was not satisfying my need from your abundance by sending me one out of your many good religious to be at the same time a comfort to me and a credit to you, for the Scriptures tell us that a wise son is a credit to his father.

I did not try to anticipate his wishes by inviting him to come, I did not attempt to lure him away from you.

God knows that, on the contrary, when he was imploring me to take him in I would not do so before I had first tried to persuade him to return to you.

Only when he refused to return, and then only grudgingly, did I give way to his importunity.

If I am at fault for receiving a good man, a stranger, and alone, and for receiving him in the way that I did, it is the only time I have offended you by such

1 caveat Abbas, ne aliquando de alio noto monasterio monachum ad habitandum suscipiat sine consensu

Abbatis ejus aut litteris conunendatitiis, quia svriptum est * Quod tibi non vis fieri, alii ne feceris' (Rule of St. Benedict, Ch. 61).

'Let the Abbot take care never to receive permanently a monk from any known monastery without his own Abbot's consent and letters of recommendation; because

27? it is written:

"' What thou wouldst not have done to thyself, do not thou to another "'.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

a fault and it would therefore not be unbecoming in you to forgive it, seeing that it is not lawful for you to refuse pardon even to one who has fallen seventy times seven.

4. I want you to know that I do not regard it as a small matter to have offended you in any way, that on the contrary it is causing me much sorrow. I often call upon God to witness that I come to you as a suppliant in my imagination as I cannot come in body, and see myself before you making humble satisfaction on bended knees.

Would that the Holy Spirit, who perhaps it is that inspires me to do this, would make you feel how sadly and unhappily I throw myself in spirit at your knees.

How often with naked shoulders and scourge ready in my hands, prepared as if at your command to punish myself,

I implore your forgiveness, and anxiously await your pardon.

If it is no trouble to you I beg you to let me know as soon as you can whether you have forgiven me, so that if you are satisfied I can feel confident of your pardon, but if not I can humble myself yet more and demand something yet more of myself, if I can, so as to make worthy amends.

LETTER 69

TO GEOFFREY, ABBOT OF ST. MEDARD

To Dom Geoffrey of St. Médard good health, but of the soul, from Brother Bernard, the ill-conditioned ruler of Clairvaux.

I BEG that you may be so good as to forward the enclosed letter to the Abbot of Anchin and that, when an opportunity presents itself, you will do what you can for an absent friend in the matter with which the letter is concerned.

For whether it be just or unjust I ought not to ignore resentment against me especially when it is of such a father as the Abbot of Anchin.

I could have better appeased his anger by word of mouth than by letter for, in matters like this, the living word is better than the written word and the tongue than the pen.

The pen cannot so well express a meaning as the expression of the face; the look in the eyes attests the sincerity of the speaker. And so because I cannot go to him in person to apologize, I am trying to do what I can through you.

I beg you again and again to do what you can while you may to remove this offence from the Kingdom of God which is within us.

I very much fear that either one or both may be taken if this ill feeling between us should last until the angels come who will be charged at the end of the world to remove all scandals.

With regard to the complaints you make in your letter about your troubles, you must know that 'the Lord is nigh unto those whose hearts are troubled'.

Have confidence in him for he has conquered the world and his eyes are upon those who trouble you.

He knows the people you live amongst.

He will hear you when you cry out

TO THE MONKS OF FLAY

to him in your misery, he will give you audience under a canopy of cloud, who tests your loyalty at the Waters of Rebellion.

Farewell.

LETTER 70

TO THE MONKS OF FLAY

The Cistercian life and the dynamic character of St. Bernard were constantly attracting monks from other houses, especially from the Black Benedictines.

It was the main source of rancour between the two Orders.

The Rule of St.

Benedict is quite explicit on the point!: a monk coming from an unknown monastery may be received and, if he seems a desirable acquisition, he may even be persuaded to stay, but a monk from a monastery which is known may on no account be accepted.

This letter concerns yet another trouble occasioned by a monk leaving his monastery to live at Clairvaux.

To Dom H..,? superior of the church of Flay, and to the brothers who are with him, greetings from the brothers who are at Clairvaux.

W: understand from your letters that you are upset by our having received one of your monks here.

Weare sorry that you should be sad about this for we are not sure that your sadness is that " sadness according to God' or supernatural sadness, spoken of by the Apostle

Paul.

If it were this sort of sadness we do not think you would have reproached us so bitterly without knowing anything about us although, indeed, we are your brothers and could be, if you wished it, your friends; or without ever having met us or held any communication with, us either by letter or word of mouth.

You say that you are amazed that we should have received Brother Benedict and you threaten us with the consequences if we do not return him to you at once.

Taking it for granted that your monastery is well known, you cite the Rule? forbidding the reception of monks from a known monastery.

Your monastery may be well known, but not to us.

Even though the fame of your religious observance may have reached Rome, as you say it has, it does not follow it has reached us who are, in fact, some way from Rome!

It may seem to you surprising, but it is none the less a fact, that we have not the slightest knowledge of any one of you, abbot or monks, or even of your neighbourhood, and we have never heard of your religious observance or way of life.

And this is nothing to be wondered at seeing that we are separated by great distances, different provinces, and another language. We have not the same bishop nor even the same archbishop.

So we do 1 Rule of St. Benedict, Chap. 61; vide note, p. 93.

2 This appears to be Abbot Hildegard.

3 Vide note, p. 93.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

not consider that the passage you quote from the Holy Rule to the effect that a monk may not be received from a known monastery is particularly relevant to the case in dispute, for if it meant that a monk could not be received from any monastery that was known to anyone then, as there is no monastery that is not known to someone, there would be no monastery left from which we could lawfully receive anyone.

And how could one reconcile this with that other injunction of Blessed Benedict which lays it down or at any rate allows that a stranger monk should be received not only into the guest house for as long as he likes, but that, if he is suitable, he should even be persuaded to join the community.

2. However, we acted very differently in the case of Brother Benedict.

When he came and begged us to receive him we turned him away and advised him to go back to his monastery.

He would not listen to us and betook himself to a hermitage near by and lived there quite quietly, without any trouble, for nearly seven months.

But he did not think it safe for himself to live alone any longer and so he was not ashamed to ask again for what had already been refused him once.

We again advised him to return to his own monastery and asked him why he had ever left it. Then he told us that his abbot used him not as a monk but as a doctor!; that he forced him to serve or rather used him to serve not God but the world; that in order to curry favour with the princes of this world he was made to attend tyrants, robbers, and excommunicated persons.

And he told us that when he suggested to his abbot both in private and publicly that all this was a source of danger to his soul, no attention was paid to him, so that finally, with the advice of experienced men, he left, not so much his monastery as the occasions of sin, not so much his holy religion as his unholy way of life. When he had told us all this he once more begged us to open to his knocking and admit him for the safety of his soul.

And when we saw his constancy and heard the reasons for his leaving the monastery and could discover nothing against him, we granted him admission, proved and approved him, admitted him to profession, and now regard him as one of ourselves.

We did not compel him to enter and we will not force him to leave.

He says that if we should drive him out he would not come back to you but would go still farther away.

So stop, we beg you, reviling us with unmerited abuse for we have done you no harm, and cease troubling us with your useless letters.

Even your accumulated insults cannot force us to reply to you save as respect demands, nor can your threats scare us for we are quite confident that we have acted lawfully in receiving your monk.

1Tt was the custom in those days for monks to work as doctors.

It was eventually forbidden by Canon Law.

TO THE MONKS OF FLAY

LETTER 71

TO THE SAME, AND CONCERNING THE SAME SUBJECT

Tue greetings of Brother Bernard to the reverend brothers of Flay, to the Abbot H(ildegard) and all the other brothers.

U would have been more becoming, dear brothers, if you had been content with my last reply to your complaints and ceased from your uncalled-for invectives.

But as to your former charges you have now added worse ones and tried once more to give me grounds for quarrelling with you (may the grounds you have given be no more fertile than formerly).

I shall truthfully answer a second time the accusations you impudently throw at my head, lest if I say nothing my silence may be interpreted as an acknowledgement of guilt.

As far as I can make out, the great injury I have done you, my whole fault, amounts to nothing more than this, that I have opened the doors of my monastery to a lonely, strange, poor, and unhappy monk who, fleeing from danger to his soul and seeking his salvation, knocked and implored to be admitted; and that I refuse to turn out again without sufficient reason the man I have received under these circumstances,

"to put myself in the wrong by pulling down what I have built up'.

On these grounds alone you accuse me of breaking the Rule, of transgressing the Canons, of violating the natural law.

You angrily reproach me for doing to others what I would not tolerate others doing to myself, by receiving into my monastery one of your own monks whom you have excommunicated.

What can I say about this excommunication when you yourselves know the answer, namely that he was not excommunicated by you before he was received by me.

And, as he had been already received and lawfully received by me, it follows that you excommunicated, not one of your own subjects, but one of mine.

Whether this is as it should be is your affair !

2. The only grounds for enquiry between us, the only thing that remains to be discovered, is whether he was rightly received by me.

You for your part, as you cannot deny that a monk may be lawfully received from an unknown monastery,! contend that you are not unknown to me. I deny this, but you will not believe me.

And so, as you will not believe my simple word, I affirm it again by oath.

By the very Truth, which is God, I assure you that I have not known you and do not know you.

Your letters are from persons quite unknown to me, and my letters to you are to unknown persons.

I have experienced vexation and worry from you, but I have had no experience of you who vex and worry me.

So as to prove me guilty of feigned ignorance you bring forward the irrefutable argument that 1 Vide Holy Rule, Chap. 61, and note, p. 93 above.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

I must know you because I have inscribed the name of your abbot and monastery upon my letters,! as if to know the name of a thing were the same as to know the thing itself.

By this reasoning it would be a great thing for me to know the names of the angels Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael because by the very sound of the words I would be blessed with a knowledge of the blessed spirits. By this reasoning I must have profited not a little by hearing the names of Paradise and the third heaven from the Apostle, because, although I have not been rapt there with him, from the very names themselves I should be able to know the secrets of heaven, and words unspeakable which it is not lawful for men to utter.

And how foolish I must be, for although I know the name of God yet I continue to groan and sigh with the Prophet, saying, 'I long, Lord, for thy presence ', and, " When shall

I come and stand in the presence of my God?' and ' Smile upon us, O God, and we shall find deliverance '.

3. And what is it that I have done to you which I would not tolerate others doing to myself? You believe it is that I would not want a monk who had left my monastery to be received into another.

I can only say that I wish all those committed to my care could be received by you and saved without me!

If one of my monks should come to you for the sake of greater perfection or a stricter way of life, not only would I not complain if you were to minister to his desire, but I should beg you to do so.

And so far from considering myself offended I would admit that I had been greatly helped by you.

Finally you deny the truth of what I have heard of you, namely that by your command or consent Brother B was obliged to turn his medical skill to secular uses while he was with you, and you accuse him of falsehood who has said this.

Whether he has lied or not I do not know, that is his affair, but this much I do know: whether he did this of his own will, as you say, or of your will, as he says, he nevertheless did it at great risk to his soul.

And who would be so inhuman as not to help, if he could, a soul in such peril, or who would not at least advise him if he could not help him?

But if, as you say, he was drawn by his cupidity and curiosity to run around here and there selling his art, what was his reason for leaving you? Was it because a stricter application of pastoral discipline made such wandering no longer possible?

If so why when he had already come to us did you try to entice him back by promising that he would be left in peace in the cloister, if you did not know that he wanted this and did not remember that he had asked for it? But now that he has found among strangers the peace and seclusion he could not find among his own, he is not willing to leave what is certain for the sake of what is doubtful.

He * Clearly the difference between knowing something and knowing of something.

The Monks of Flay must have thought that the relevant passage in the Rule referred to monasteries the abbot knew of, but did not necessarily know.

TO GUY, ABBOT OF TROIS-FONTAINES

ies on to what he has and scorns to accept what is offered too ate.

4. Cease therefore, brothers, cease worrying your brother about whom you have no cause to worry, unless indeed (and may such a thing be very far from you!) it is your own interests and not the glory of God you are seeking, your own satisfaction in your brother's return and not the salvation of his soul.

As you say he was always a rolling stone with you and, contrary to his state and the commands of his abbot, spending the money he made from the practice of his art upon himself, if you love him you ought to rejoice now that by the mercy of God he is cured.

For I bear witness that never now does he wander abroad but, peacefully persevering in the monastery, he lives without complaint among poor men the life of a poor man.

So far from having betrayed the faith he first pledged with you, he has now ratified it; together with obedience and conversion of manners,1 without which he is deceived who trusts in his stability, he now keeps that faith whole and entire.

So I beg you, brothers, calm your anger and stop worrying me.

But if you will not, then do what you like, write what you like, abuse me as much as you like, charity suffers all things, beareth all things.

And for my part, I am determined that from henceforth I shall love you with a pure love, treat you reverently, and regard you as friends.

LETTER 72

TO GUY, ABBOT OF TROIS-FONTAINES

A letter of advice and consolation to Guy who is in great distress because when he came to the Communion at Mass, he discovered that through an oversight of the server there was no wine in the chalice.

In the twelfth century the chalice was prepared by the servers before Mass.

It has been suggested that water instead of wine had been put into the chalice.

This is a mistake that can be very easily made by the half light of candles in the early dawn when a white wine is used.

It is true that there is nothing in the letter to suggest that this is how the mistake happened, but it would explain what would otherwise be a very extraordinary carelessness of the server who prepared the chalice, and also why Guy did not notice the mistake at the fraction of the Host.

The Guy to whom this letter is addressed is the same person as the Guy mentioned in Letter 66.

He succeeded Roger as Abbot of Trois-Fontaines in 1129, and was elected Abbot of Citeaux in 1134, but was deposed some months later by the General Chapter.

The abbey of Trois-Fontaines was founded from Clairvaux in the year 1118 and is to be distinguished from the other abbey near Rome called Tre Fontane and dedicated to SS. Vincent and Anastasius.

1 Monks, as distinct from Friars and Clerks Regular and post-Tridentine Orders, explicitly vow only obedience, stability, and conversion of manners.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

SYMPATHIZE with your sorrow, my dear friend, because I know the I cause of it; but only if it is not excessive.

Unless I am mistaken it is that supernatural sorrow or sorrow 'according to God' spoken of by the Apostle.

There can be no doubt at all that such sorrow will be one day turned to joy. And so, dear friend, ' do not let anger betray you into sin', as the Psalmist says.

On an occasion like this you would sin just as much by being too angry with yourself as by not being angry atall.

Not to be angry with oneself when one should be is complacency, but to be more angry than one should be is to add sin unto sin.

If complacency in sin is wrong, how could it not be wrong to accumulate one sin on the top of another?

If guilt is made to depend on the matter of our actions, your sorrow, even were it immense, would not be to blame, because it would be sorrow for an immense fault.

For the fault would be great in proportion as the matter concerned was sacred.

But now in judging what you have done you should, according to my opinion, consider rather your own intention than the dignity of the sacred matter because the motive not the matter, the intention and not the results of the action constitute its moral character, according to those words of our Blessed Lord:

'If thy eye is clear, the whole of thy body will be full of light; if thy eye is diseased, the whole of thy body will be in darkness'.

My prior and I after having thought a great deal about it by ourselves and discussed it at length between ourselves, can sce in it ignorance on your part and carelessness on the part of the servers, but certainly no malice.

You surely know very well that as there is no good but what springs from the will, so there can hardly be any great evil in a matter ae is clearly involuntary.

Otherwise were involuntary good actions to merit no reward and involuntary evil actions to deserve heavy punishment, for one and the same cause evil would be reckoned but good not recognized. Let him who believes this say if he wish, not that "wisdom has overcome evil', but that evil has overcome wisdom.

2. But so as to ease your unquiet conscience and in case what has happened should be a warning of some more grave evil lurking in the monastery, I give you as penance the seven penitential psalms to be said with seven prostrations every day until Easter and seven disciplines.

And let him who served your Mass make similar satisfaction.

As for him who prepared the chalice before Mass and forgot to pour in the wine, he seems to me to be the one most at fault so, if you agree, I leave him to your judgement.

And if word of this thing should have got out among the brethren let each of them receive the discipline once so that it shall be fulfilled what is written:

' Bear ye one another's burdens'.

And now as regards your action when you had discovered what had happened, in pouring wine on to the particle of the sacred

Host in the chalice; I commend it and in such a difficulty { do not

TO GUY, ABBOT OF TROIS-FONTAINES

IOI think you could have done better.

Although of course the wine would not have been turned into the blood of Christ by its proper consecration, yet it would have become holy from contact with the sacred body. They say that some writer or other has thought differently, namely that the presence together of all three elements, bread, wine, and water, is necessary for the Sacrifice, so that the lack of one would invalidate the whole.

But this is a matter on which each one must believe as seems best to himself.

3. If the same thing had happened to myself, in my own poor opinion there is one of two things I should have done to remedy the situation': either I should have acted as you did, or else I should have repeated the consecration prayer from the words Simili modo postquam cenatum est .

.* and so have completed the Sacrifice.

I would have no doubts in this case about the validity of the consecration of the bread, for by her very rites the Church teaches me what she has herself received from the Lord, namely that although bread and wine are both consecrated together, they are not both consecrated together at the same time.

Therefore since first the bread is consecrated, so as to become Christ's body and then the wine so as to become his blood, if through forgetfulness the wine is presented later, I cannot see that the delay would annul the preceding consecration of the bread.

And I think that if it had pleased the Lord to have postponed a little the consecration of the wine or to have omitted it completely after the bread had been consecrated, so as to have become his body, his body would have nevertheless remained and what had not yet been done would have in no way affected what had already been accomplished.

I do not deny that bread and wine mixed with water ought to be presented together, on the contrary I maintain that this ought to be done; but I say it is one thing to blame negligence if this is not done, and quite another to deny the validity of the sacrament.

It is one thing to discuss whether a thing was well done, and quite another to deny that it was done at all.

This is all I have to say on the matter at present, and I have said it without any prejudice to what you or others wiser than myself may think.

LETTER 73

TO THE SAME

To the Lord Abbot Guy, a spirit of knowledge and of pity, from Brother Bernard.

- 1 During the Canon of the Mass the priest breaks the sacred Host into three pieces

. . two large and one very small piece.

The small piece he drops into the chalice.

Therefore if the chalice was empty, Guy would have found at the Communion that only the particle of the sacred Host was there.

If there was water in the chalice, as some think, the particle would have been in the water.

2 Tn like manner after he had supped .

. .'.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

AM certainly moved to pity when I consider the pitiful condition of this poor wretch, but I rather fear it will be in vain.

And yet my pity does not seem to me to be wasted, even though it benefit only myself without helping the wretched object of it. Yet I was not moved to it by any thought of self-interest, it was the sight of a neighbour's wretchedness, a brother's misery, which smote my breast.

Pity is an emotion that moves tender hearts irresistibly to compassion for suffering, but it cannot be induced by the will and it is not subject to the reason.

Reason and will, although they can prevent emotion from having any effect on a man's actions, yet they cannot stifle it.

And so as Pie as he for whom I pour forth my prayer remains unconverted let them keep away from me who would console me by saying that ' my prayer shall return to my own bosom'.

As long as the wicked man remains in his wickedness, I will not listen to those who would flatter me by saying: ' Good will befall the good'.

I will not, I say, be consoled, while I witness my brother's misery.

So if, dearest son, your kind heart is moved to pity or, I should say, because it cannot be otherwise moved but by pity, although the poor man seems to you to have made a habit of his wretched comings and goings from the monastery, yet because he thinks he has a grievance, you should listen to what he has to say, not only patiently, but even willingly.

I think we ought to take every reasonable opportunity to save a man in such desperate circumstances, a thing which (as we both know from experience) will be difficult enough in the Order, but far more so outside.

So I advise you to call all the brethren together in council and not to be ashamed to withdraw any previous sentences you may have given against him, so that his obstinate pride may be healed by your humility and some means be found for receiving him back without violating the Rule.

Do not fear that by so doing, by thus preferring mercy to justice, you will displease the merciful and just God.

2. I will tell you, for an example, of a similar thing that I remember happening to myself.

One day I commanded, with angry voice and threatening looks, a brother who had upset me to leave the monastery.

He immediately betook himself to one of our granges and remained there.

When I found out where he was I wanted to recall him, but he said that he would not come back unless he was first reinstated in his old position, and not put in the last place as if he had been a runaway; for he had been turned out of the monastery, so he said, without consideration and without his case being heard, and that as he had not been given a fair trial when he was turned out, he ought not to be made to submit to judgement when he came back.

As I could not trust my own judgement in the matter owing to my natural feelings about it, I submitted it to the consideration of the brethren.

And they, when I was absent, ruled that the brother should not be subjected to the discipline of the Rule on being received back, as his

TO A MONK OF TROIS-FONTAINES

I03 expulsion had not been according to the Rule.

If therefore such kindly consideration was shown to a monk who had only once left the monastery, how much more ought it not to be shown to a monk in such desperate circumstances as yours.

Farewell.

LETTER 74

TO A MONK OF THE SAME MONASTERY

D° not think that because I have not come to see you I do not care.

I care for you as if you were one of my own sons, and I could no more be suspected of neglecting you than a mother could be suspected of neglecting her child.

I have in fact been waiting and hoping for an opportunity of visiting you, so that when I did come it might not be without profit.

In the meantime do not let your heart be troubled by the death of your abbot,? God, we hope, will provide him with a worthy successor.

You have not lost him, for, although he has passed away, he has not left you.

Only now he who was your own special father in God, belongs to us all.

Until I come ' play the man and keep your courage high ', doing all your actions for the love of God.

Farewell.

LETTER 75

TO RAINALD, ABBOT OF FOIGNY

Foigny was in the diocese of Laon and was founded from Clairvaux in 1121, soon after which year this letter must have been written, for Rainald was the first Abbot, and it is clear from the context that he was still home-sick for Clairvaux and St. Bernard.

To 'his dearest Rainald, all that one devoted brother and faithful fellow-servant could wish for another, from Bernard, his brother and fellow-servant, not his father and lord.

D° not be. surprised if I am frightened at the titles of honour you give me when I do not feel worthy of the honours themselves.

It may indeed be becoming that you should give them to me, but it is not fitting that I should agree to them.

If you think you are bound by those words of the Apostle, ' Be eager to give one another precedence ', and, ' As you stand in awe of Christ, submit to each other's rights ',

1 The candour with which St. Bernard tells this story seems to us wholly in keeping with his saintly character.

But others have thought differently and from early times, through a mistaken idea of the nature of sanctity and a greater zeal for edification than for truth, on purely a priori grounds suspicion has been cast on the authenticity of this passage.

Even Mabillon relegated it to the notes of his edition of the letters averring that it was out of keeping with the character of the saint, and found in only five out of the eight MSS.

But now a recent discovery in the library of the Abbey of Runa of a manuscript of the thirteenth century (No. 13) containing the complete text establishes the authenticity of the passage beyond all possibility of cavil.

2 This was Abbot Roger, the immediate predecessor of Abbot Guy, to whom the two preceding letters are addressed.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

I reply that in both cases the respect mentioned is supposed to be mutual, so unless this means nothing they apply equally to myself.

And if you believe that you must observe that command of the Rule which bids juniors honour their seniors, there immediately occur to me certain other sayings from the rule of Truth: 'They shall be first who were last, and they shall be last who were first'; 'No difference is to be made, among you, between the greatest and youngest of all, between him who commands and him who serves'; "The greater thou art, the more in all things abase thyself'; 'Not that we would domineer over your faith; rather, we would help you to achieve happiness'; 'You are not to claim the title of Rabbi... nor are you to call any man on earth your father'.

And so the more you extol me by your praises, the more I am weighed down by these texts and have cause to lament and not sing with the Psalmist, 'I have been lifted up only to be cast down and left bewildered' and,

*So low hast thou brought me who didst lift me up so high'.

But perhaps I would be describing more truthfully what I feel were I to say that he who extols me, humiliates me; he who humiliates me, extols me.

You by vaunting me on high, let me down; by making too much of me, belittle me.

But although you humble me by your praises you do not altogether crush me for these and the like words of Truth do comfort and, in a wonderful way, exalt me even while they abase me; instruct me, even while they humiliate me, so that b the very same words that I am abashed I am also 'lifted up joyfully singing with my whole heart': 'It was in mercy that thou didst

Pane me, schooling me to thy obedience.

Is not the law thou hast given dearer to me than rich store of gold and silver'.

This wonder is done by 'the living and effectual word of God' working sweetly and powerfully, that very word by which all things were made; in fine, it is the work of Christ's sweet yoke, of his light burden.

2. It is pleasant to admire the lightness of the burden of Truth.

And it is indeed really light, for not only is it no burden for the man who carries it, but it even carries him!

And what can be lighter than a burden which not only does not burden, but even carries him on whom it is laid?

This is the burden which the Virgin bore and by which she was borne and not burdened.?

This is the burden which supported the very arms of the old Simeon who bore it in his arms.

And this is what snatched Paul up to the third heaven, even when he was weighed down by the corruptible body. When I look for an example among created things to illustrate this disburdening burden, nothing occurs to me more apt than the wings of a bird, for they, in 1 Rule of St. Benedict, Chap. 63.

* Hoc onus potuit uterum gravidare Virgineum, gravare non potuit.

During the whole of this section, St. Bernard is playing upon words in a graceful, but almost untranslatabie, manner.

Eales translates this sentence:

' This weight was able to render fruitful the Virgin's womb, but not to burden it '.

TO RAINALD, ABBOT OF FOIGNY

I0$ an extraordinary way, render the body both greater and yet more nimble.

What a wonderful achievement of nature that a body should be rendered lighter by its very increase in size, so that the more it increases in bulk the more it decreases in weight.

Here certainly we have a clear illustration of the sweet burden of Christ which carries those who carry it. And a chariot occurs to me too, for this also increases a burden which could not be carried by a horse alone, while at the same time rendering it more portable.

One burden is added to another with the result that the whole is less burdensome!

Thus when the four-in-hand chariot of the Gospels is yoked to the heavy burden of the law, it at once increases the perfection of it and reduces its difficulty.

'How swiftly runs his word', says the Psalm, and his word which at first could not extend beyond the confines of Judea, because it was so oppressive that it weighed down even the hands of Moses, when lightened by the touch of grace and yoked to the fourwheeled chariot of the Gospels swiftly went out into the whole world, and was quickly carried to the ends of the earth.

But I am wandering from the point.

3. And so do you, dearest friend, stop smothering rather than applauding me with undeserved titles, otherwise you will be siding with my enemies, although with the best of intentions.

Of them I am in the habit of complaining to God alone in the words of the Psalmist:

'And they that flattered me did curse me'.

And to this complaint of mine I soon hear the answering words of God, ' And they that called you blessed have led you into error', to which I again reply, ' Let them therefore go their way baffled, they that rejoice over my misfortune; slink away in confusion that crowed over me so loud'.

But lest it should be thought that I ever launch curses and imprecations against my enemies, I ought to explain how I understand these words.

I pray, then, that those who believe me to be better than they see or hear me to be, may go their way baffled, that is to say withdraw from ignorantly praising me whom they do not know, and go on their way.

How will this happen?

It will happen when they know better the man they have excessively praised, so that they go their way baffled by their own error and by the discovery they have made of their friend's futility.

In this manner both kinds of those people who injure me go their way baffled: the first kind who bear ill-will towards me, and flatter me with adulation; the others who are indeed quite sincere, yet injure me just as much by their well-meaning but extravagant praises.

And so against both these kinds of people who praise me I am in the habit of protecting myself with these two verses as with two shields.

Against the first sort who praise me malevolently, I say:

' Baffled let them go their way that rejoice in my misfortune '; and against the second sort:

' May they slink away in confusion that crowed over me so loud '.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

4. But to return to yourself.

As I ought, after the example of the Apostle, not to dominate over you, but only to rejoice with you, and as, according to the words of our Lord, we are all brothers having one father in heaven, it is not improper for me to turn off from myself with the shield of truth the high names of lord and father with which you think to honour and not burden me, and more appropriately call myself brother and fellow-servant as we share the same Father and the same condition.

Were I to arrogate to myself what belongs to God, I might hear the words: 'If 1 am your master, where is the reverence due to me; and if your father, where the honour?'

That I have a father's affection for you, I do not deny, but I refuse the authority of a father; nor, I think, is the affection with which I embrace you less than the affection of a father for a son.

Now enough on the matter of titles.

5. To answer the rest of your letter.

I could make just as well the same complaint about your absence as you do about mine, unless

(which you yourself will not deny) the will of God must be preferred to our own feelings and needs.

How, were it not for Christ's sake, could I suffer you to be so far away from me, you who are my dearest and most necessary companion, because always obedient in all you do; most helpful in conference; most zealous in learning, most prompt in remembering.

Blessed shall we be if we can thus persevere until the end, always and everywhere seeking the glory of Jesus Christ and not our own interests.

LETTER 76

TO THE SAME

To his very dear son Rainald, Abbot of Foigny, the spirit of fortitude.

Wee you wring your hands, dearest Rainald, over your many troubles I too am moved to tears by your affectionate comesis When you are sorrowful, I cannot but be sorry; nor can | ear of your worries and troubles without being myself worried and troubled.

But as I foresaw and warned you of the very ills which you declare have befallen you, you should have been forearmed against what was foreknown so as to have endured them with a lighter heart and, if possible, spared me the vexation of hearing all about them.

As it is I suffer more than enough by not having you by me, by not being able to see anything of you and enjoy the comfort of your company, so that I am at times tempted to regret having sent you away.

True it was at the behest of charity that I did so, yet whatever the need might have been, because I cannot see you, I mourn for you as lost to me.

And so, when on the top of all this you who should be a staff to support me use your faintheartedness as a staff with which to * Piis querimoniis.

Eales translates, perhaps more literally, ' pious complaints'

TO RAINALD, ABBOT OF FOIGNY

belabour me, you are piling sadness upon sadness, one cross upon another.

Although it is a mark of your affection for me that you hide none of your troubles from me, it is nevertheless unfeeling of you not to spare me, who feel as I do towards you, any details of your sufferings.» Why should you make me, who am anxious enough about you, even more anxious? Why should my heart, already torn by the absence' of my son, be wounded still more by having to hear every detail of the trials he is enduring?

I have shared my burdens with you, as with a son and an indispensable and faithful helper.

But is this the way you help me to carry them?

You are not helping to carry thein at all, but adding to their weight, and by so doing you are making things more difficult for me without helping yourself.

2. This is the burden of souls which are sick, for those which are well do not need to be carried and so are no burden.

You must understand that you are especially abbot of the sad, faint-hearted, and discontented among your flock.

It is by consoling, encouraging, and admonishing that you do your duty and carry your burden and, by carrying your burden, heal those you carry.

If there is anyone so spiritually healthy that he rather helps you than is helped by you, you are not so much his father as his equal, not so much his abbot as his fellow. Why then do you complain that you find the company of some of those who are with you more of a burden than a comfort?

You were given to them as abbot not to be comforted but to comfort, because you were the strongest of them all and, by God's grace, able to comfort them all without needing to be comforted by any.

The greater your burden, the greater will be your gain; the easier your lot, the less your reward.

Choose whom you want, either those who by burdening you help you or those who by helping you burden you.

The former win merit for you, the latter bilk you of merit.

Without any doubt those who share your labours will also share your reward.

You should know that you have been sent not to be helped but to help, and realize that you hold the place of him who came not to be served but to serve.

I wanted to write you a longer letter for your consolation, but there is no need.

What need is there to fill dry pages with words, when the living voice is there?

I think that when you have seen the prior you will find that I have said enough, and that your spirit will revive in his presence, that you will be so refreshed by his words as to have no need to be consoled by a letter.

Do not have any doubt that I send to you in him and through him that spirit of mine which you begged me in your letter to send you if I could.

As you know we are of one mind and one will.

1 Si mihi pium est nullas tuas angustias dissimulare, tibi tamen durum est sic affecto cunctas indicare.

I have translated this sentence in the same way as Eales who renders it: 'If it isa mark of your filial affection towards me that you do not hide any of your difficulties from me, yet it is hard to add trouble to one already burdened'.

I cannot help feeling, however, that the contrast is meant to be between mihi and tibi, and so should perhaps be rendered: Although it belongs to my fatherly affection towards you to ignore none of your troubles, yet it is unfeeling of you....

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 77

TO THE SAME

HAD hoped, dearest son, to find a remedy for my worrying over you I in not being told of your difficulties.

I remember I wrote to you in a former letter that although it was a mark of your affection towards me that you should hide none of your troubles from me, it was nevertheless unfeeling of you not to spare me, feeling towards you as I do, anything of the details, But now I confess I fecl my anxiety for you increased by the very thing that I had hoped would relieve it.

Hitherto I have only feared or grieved over what you told me about, but now there is hardly an evil that could happen which I do not fear for you.

In fact, as your favourite Ovid says: Quando ego non timui graviora pericula veris?} Uncertain about everything and therefore anxious about everything,

I experience real sorrow for imaginary evils.

He who is once fond of anyone, is hardly master over himself any longer.

He fears, he does not know what; he is sorrowful when there is no cause for sorrow; he worries more than he wishes, and about what he does not wish, feeling compassion unwillingly and ruth in spite of himself.

And so you see, my son, that neither my careful precautions nor your loving care has availed me at al] in this matter, and I beg you no longer to hide from me all that is happening to you, lest your very efforts to spare me make me more uneasy.

Please return as soon as you can those books of mine which you borrowed.

LETTER 78

TO ARTALD, ABBOT OF PRUILLY

Pruilly was founded in the year 1118.

It is situated in the diocese of Sens.

To his dearest friend and brother, Abbot Artald, the greetings of Brother Bernard. if THINK that we owe to each other as much kindliness and affection as it is possible for absent friends to bestow on one another, not only because we belong to the same Order and have taken the same vows, but also because of the mutual debt involved by our old friendship. And I do not think we could give better proof to each other and to ourselves of the warmth of our mutual affection than by not concealing what either of us may hear to the discredit of the other.

I have heard that you are thinking of making a foundation in Spain from your monastery.

I cannot possibly understand why you should * Quando, etc.

'When have I not by fear made the dangers greater than they really were?'

(Ovid, Ep. 1, verse 11).

TO THE ABBOT OF THE CANONS OF PIERREMONT

want to do this, what point, what advantage there can be in exiling your sons to such a distant region, where the expense of finding a site and erecting a building will be very great, when you have quite near to you a place already built and ready for you.! Nor is it, in my opinion, any excuse to say that the place does not belong to you since

I know very well that it could easily be yours, if you wanted it.

Do you think that the Lord Abbot of Pontigny, who is the owner, would grudge it to you if you were to ask him?

In fact he would be very glad if you were to take it off his hands, not because there is anything wrong with the place, but simply because he has no need of it.

I think both you and I, because we are both young and for that reason apt to be suspected of levity, should be especially on our guard lest we forget the advice of the Apostle: 'Do not let anyone think the less of thee for thy youthfulness'.

But I am confident that you will act cautiously and choose the place which is near to you and has a building on it already for you and which you know is necessary for yourself and a burden to our friend the owner.

LETTER 79

TO THE ABBOT OF THE CANONS OF ST. PIERREMONT

Mabillon was the first to restore the correct inscription of this letter from the Corbie MS.

Until his time it had always been inscribed: To the Same.

St. Pierremont was an abbey of Augustinian Canons in the diocese of Toul.

To the Most Reverend Father of the Canons of St. Pierremont in affectionate duty, from Brother Bernard.

INCE it was the wish of your Reverence that this brother should S consult a person of my mediocre attainments, I have counselled him to the best of my ability, but on the understanding that nothing

I said should prejudice the opinion of wiser persons than myself.

Not to bother you with an account of what you already know, this is the gist of the advice I gave.

It is unsafe and perhaps unlawful for a man to return to the world after having worn for some time the habit in a religious house; it is also indecent and unbecoming for a man to involve himself in a second marriage after having lived for a long time a most staunchly continent life with the consent of his first wife while she was still alive.

But because his marriage was celebrated in the usual manner with publicity and solemnity, no one disputing or opposing it, I do not think it safe for him to put her away without her consent unless he has first obtained the support of the bishop's sanction and authority or, at any rate, a canonical judgement of the 1 The place here referred to is Vauluisant, where Artald, on the advice of St. Bernard, founded a monastery in the year 1127.

THE' LETTERS OF'ST. BERNARD

ecclesiastical courts.

As I cannot help believing that the awkward and dangerous position in which this wretched man finds himself is largely your own fault, in as much as when he begged and implored you to admit him to profession you deferred receiving him too long and gave the evil one an opportunity for ensnaring him, I urge and counsel you in the name of charity to spare no pains or expense in trying by every means to set him right. You could do this, either by persuading the woman to release him of her own free will and promise to live in continence or the bishop to call them both together and, as I believe could be quite properly done, separate them.

NOTE A letter to Master Hugh of St. Victor (Benedictine Edition, 77) is, on account of its importance, always included amongst the treatises of St. Bernard under the title:

Liber de precepto et dispensatione.

LETTER. 80

TO SUGER, ABBOT OF ST. DENIS

Suger was born in the year 1081 and succeeded Adam as abbot of the royal abbey of St. Denis in the year 1121-1122.

Very soon after this he was appointed chief minister by the King of France, Louis 'le Gros', earning by the services he rendered in this capacity the title ' Father of his Country'. It is remarkable that Louis should have given him this appointment, for he had already intervened against his king's interests in the battle over investitures.

His first direct contact with St. Bernard may have been when he secretly sought his help in this affair.

Suger was typical of the great ecclesiastical statesmen of his time and is in many ways not unlike his redoubtable and rather attractive English contemporary, Henry de Blois, Bishop of Winchester, with whom Bernard came into conflict over the vexed affair of the York election.

No abbot lived in greater magnificence than Suger and no abbey stood in greater need of reform than St. Denis.

It had become little more than a centre for the transaction of the great affairs of state.

Probably St. Bernard had the abbot and monastery of St. Denis in mind when he wrote the Apologia, and without doubt his diatribes caused Suger much searching of heart.

It is a striking indication of the influence of the Cistercian reform and of St. Bernard that the Abbot of St. Denis should have been moved to reform, not only his own life, but also the lives of the monks under him, so as to call forth the following letter. aps good news of what God has done in your soul has gone forth in our land encouraging all the good people who hear it. To be sure all those who fear God and have heard of it are amazed and full of joy at this great and sudden change of the right arm of the Most

High.

Everywhere ' your soul is praised in the Lord and the meek hear and rejoice'.

Even those who have not known you, but have

TO SUGER, ABBOT OF ST. DENIS

III only heard how great has been the change from what you were to what you are, marvel and praise God in you.

But what increases both the wonder and the joy alike is that you should have fulfilled what is written in the Scriptures, ' Let everyone who hears this say: Come', and, " What I have said to you under cover of darkness you are to utter in the light of day; what has been whispered in your ears you are to proclaim on the house-tops ', by endeavouring to spread amongst your monks the counsel of salvation which possesses your soul.

In this you have acted like a resolute soldier, or rather like a devoted and strong captain who, when he sees his men in flight and slaughtered on all sides by the swords of the enemy, would be ashamed to survive them and scorn to save his own life by flight, even if he could.

He stands fast in battle, he fights stoutly, and he runs hither and thither between the lines amongst the blood-stained swords trying with sword and voice to dishearten the enemy and encourage his own men.

He is always on the spot where he discovers the enemy are breaking through and his men being hewn down.

Where anyone is being hard-pressed and overcome he is always there to assist him, being all the more ready to die for each one in that he despairs of saving all.

And, while he is trying little by little to stem and stop the advance of the enemy, it often happens that by his valour he snatches a victory for his own men from the confusion of the enemy, all the more welcome for being unexpected.

They in their turn now put to flight those from whom they fled, and overcome those whom hitherto they have barely been able to stave off from vanquishing them, so that those who were lately all but victims now exult as victors.

2. But why should I compare such a religious and mighty achievement with secular things, as if religion itself did not provide many examples?

Was not Moses fully confident in God's promise that if the whole people of whom he was the leader were to perish he would not only not perish with them but would on the contrary be put at the head of a great nation?

And yet with what affection and zeal and with what devotion did he not help them when they were troublesome and try to meet them when they were rebellious!

In the end he offered himself in satisfaction for their defection, praying God to pardon them or else blot out his own name from his record.

He was a faithful advocate who easily obtained what he asked for, because he was not seeking his own interests.

He was also a devoted leader united by love to his people, as the head is united to the body, so that he would rather perish with them than be saved without them.

Jeremias too, although he did not sympathize with the truculence of his people, was inseparably bound to them by the bonds of compassion for their infirmity and preferred to suffer exile and slavery with them rather than'to enjoy his native soil and liberty by himself.

When the whole people were led off he was free to remain at home, but he chose

I12

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

to share their captivity because he knew they would need him.

And Paul was doubtless inspired by the same spirit when he wished to be doomed to separation from Christ for the sake of his kinsmen, knowing from personal experience the truth of those words:

* Not death itself is so strong as love, not the grave itself so cruel as love unrequited '.

So you see whom you have proved yourself to be like!

But I must add someone else whom I had almost forgotten.

I mean the holy king David, who when he saw the slaughter of his people, was sad and made haste to stand before the angel who was smiting them and implore that the punishment might be transferred unto himself and his father's house.

3. Who suggested this perfection to you?

I must confess that although I much desired to hear such things of you, yet I hardly dared hope that I ever would.

Who would have believed that with one jump, so to speak, you would attain the summits of virtue, the pinnacle of merit?

But God forbid that I should measure the immensity of God's love by the narrow limits of my own capacity for faith and hope. He can do whatsoever he wills.

He can hasten the working of his grace and lighten the burden of his commands.

It was your fault, not those of your monks, that good and zealous people censured.

It was against you and not against the whole community that they murmured.

In fact, it was you whom they held responsible.

If you had corrected yourself, there would have been nothing left to criticize.

If you, I say, had changed your ways, soon all the tumult would have died down, all the talk would have subsided.

As for myself, the whole and only thing that upset me was the pomp and splendour with which you travelled.

This seemed to me to savour of arrogance.

If you had been content to put off your haughtiness and put away your splendid attire, the resentment of everyone would easily have died down.

But you have done more than satisfy your critics, you have earned their praise, although this sudden change of so many great things should be deemed more the work of God than of yourself.

In heaven the conversion of one sinner arouses great joy, but what about the conversion of a whole community, and a community such as yours?

4. From early times yours was a noble abbey of royal dignity.

It served the palace and the armies of the king. Without any deception or delay it rendered to Caesar his dues, but not with equal enthusiasm what was due to God.

I speak of what I have heard, not of what I have seen.

They say the cloister of the monastery was often crowded with soldiers, that business was done there, that it echoed to the sound of men wrangling, and that sometimes women were to be found there.

In all this hubbub how could anyone have attended to heavenly, divine, and spiritual things?

But now everything is very different, God is invoked there, continence is cultivated, discipline maintained,

TO SUGER, ABBOT OF ST. DENIS

spiritual reading encouraged, for the silence is now unbroken, and the hush from all the din of secular affairs invites the mind to heavenly thoughts.

Furthermore the labour of continence, the rigour of discipline, is relieved by the sweet tones of hymns and psalms.

Shame for the past encourages the austerity of this new way of life. The men who pluck the fruit of a good conscience are inspired by a desire which shall not be frustrated, and a hope which shall not be confounded.

Fear of future judgement gives place to a loving practice of brotherly charity, for 'Love has no room for fear'.

The variety of holy observances keeps at bay tedium and acidie.!_ I have recalled all this for the honour and glory of God, who is the author of it all, but not without yourself as his collaborator in all things. He could have done it all without you, but he preferred that you should share in his work, so that you might also share the glory.

Our Saviour rebuked certain persons for making his house a den of thieves.

And so without any doubt he will commend one who applies himself to saving a holy thing from dogs, and pearls from swine; whose efforts and zeal have restored what was little better than a workshop of Vulcan to being a sanctuary of prayer and spiritual pursuits, what was a synagogue of Satan to its former use.

5. I have certainly not recalled all these past evils so as to taunt or shame anyone, but so as to make the new glories appear all the more important and comely by comparing them to the old infamy.

Recent good things show up to all the better advantage when compared with former evils. We recognize like things by comparing them with like, but contrary things compared either please or displease the more.

Join black things to white and the comparison will show up each colour the better.

When ugly things are set against beautiful things, the beautiful seem more beautiful and the ugly seem more ugly.

But so as to avoid any occasion for confusion or offence let me repeat to you also what the Apostle said: 'This is what you were once, but now you have been washed clean, now you have been sanctified '.

The house of God is no longer open to seculars, the merely curious find no admittance to the holy places.

There is no longer any idle gossiping, and the usual chatter of boys and girls is no longer heard there.

According to the words, "Here stand I and these children the Lord has given me ', the place is free and open only to the children of Christ and is kept with becoming care and reverence only for the divine praises and sacred functions.

How the martyrs, a great number of whom ennoble the place with their relics, must hear with joy the songs of these children, to whom they will reply with no less affec- 'tionate exuberance, ' Praise the Lord, ye children, praise ye the name of the Lord'; and again, ' A psalm, a psalm for our God, a psalm, a psalm for our king '.

1 A traditional term for a state of spiritual aridity.

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THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

6. Now the vaults of the great abbey that once resounded to the hubbub of secular business echo only to spiritual canticles. Now breasts are bruised by the hands that beat upon them, and knees by the stones on which they kneel, and from the altars ascend vows and devout prayers.

Now one can see cheeks furrowed with tears of repentance and hear the murmur of weeping and sighs. What can better please the citizens of heaven than this, what sight can be more welcome to the King of heaven than this sacrifice of praise with which he is now honoured here?

Oh if only we could have our eyes opened to see what Eliseus by his prayers revealed to his servant!

Without doubt we would see ' how before us go chieftains, and minstrels with them'. We would see with what attention and with what elation they assist in our singing, stand by us when we pray, join with us when we meditate, watch over us when we rest, and guide those of us who preside over and care for others.

The powers of heaven know who are their fellow citizens, they earnestly delight over, comfort, instruct, protect, and care for in everything those who take the heritage of salvation.

Although, being absent, I cannot see with my own eyes these things which you have done, yet I count myself happy even to have heard of them.

But you, my brethren, I esteem still more happy, for to you it has been given to perform them.

And more blessed than all is he whom the Author of all good has deigned to give the leadership in these things.

On this great privilege I especially congratulate you, my dear friend, for it is due to you that all these wonderful things have happened.

7. Perhaps you are embarrassed by my praises?

You should not be.

What I have said has nothing in common with the flattery of those who 'call good evil and evil good', so that they betray whomsoever they praise.

Theirs is a smooth but treacherous praise by which ' the sinner is praised in the desires of his soul'.

Whatever kind of favour mine may be, it certainly proceeds from charity and, so far as I can see, it does not exceed the bounds of truth.

He is safely applauded who is only applauded in the Lord, that is to say in truth.

I have not called evil good, on the contrary I have called evil what was evil.

Tam all the more bound to lift up my voice and praise the good when I see it for having boldly denounced former evils or else, were I to cry out against what is evil and say nothing about what is good, I would prove myself a mere backbiter and not a reformer, one who would rather carp at evil than remedy it. The righteous man admonishes lovingly, the sinner praises wickedly.

The former admonishes evil that he may remedy it, the latter praises that he may conceal what calls for remedy.

You need have no anxiety that your head will be anointed with the oil of sinners as it used to be, by those who fear the Lord. I praise you because I consider you have done what is deserving of praise.

I certainly do not flatter you; Iam only

TO SUGER, ABBOT OF ST. DENIS

II§ fulfilling what you sing in the psalm:

' They that fear thee shall see me, and shall be glad, because I have greatly hoped in thy works'; and again:

© This wisdom of his shall be praised on all sides'.

How many who used to abhor your folly now praise your wisdom!

8. I wish you to delight in the approbation of those who fear vice no less than they love virtue.

The praises of such men are true for they praise only what is good and do not know how to pander to evil.

But there are others whose praise is not true, but false, who really disparage when they seem to praise, and of these we read in the Scriptures that they are ' Vain men, light weight sons of Adam as false coins in the scales, vain in all their conspiracies to deceive'.

Clearly these are men to be avoided, according to the advice of the Wise Man:

* Turn a deaf ear, my son, to the blandishments of evildoers that would make thee of their company'.

Therefore sinners do not lack either wine or oil, delicious certainly, but poisonous and deadly.

'His words', that is the words of the flatterer, 'are so gentle, they soothed like oil, but in truth they are weapons of destruction.'

And the righteous man also has his oil, but it is an oil of mercy, sanctifying and full of spiritual joy. And he has his wine that he pours into the inflamed wounds of the soul.

With the oil of mercy he comforts the sadness of those who are sorrowful and whose heart he sees to be contrite.

When he admonishes he uses his wine; when he comforts, his oil.

But his wine is without rancour and his oil is without guile.

Not all praise is flattery, just as not all rebuke comes from spite.

Blessed is he who can say: 'In love some just man will chastise me, reprove me; never shall the sinner sleek this head with the oil of his flattery'.

By rejecting the oil of the sinners' flattery you have proved yourself worthy of the oil and milk of holy men. g. Let these charming but savage mothers seek among the children of Babylon those whom they can feed with the milk of death, whom they may caress with their alluring favours, and nourish with everlasting fires!

But when the nursling of the Church has fed from the breasts of wisdom and has tasted the sweetness of a better milk, already growing in grace, already satisfied with what he has received, he will say from the bottom of his heart:

"The milk from thy breasts is better than wine, the fragrance of rare perfumes cannot match it for delight'.

This is what he says to his mother the Church.

But when he has in a like manner tasted and seen how sweet is the Lord he addresses him as a very dear father and says:

' What treasures of loving kindness, Lord, dost thou store up for the men who fear thee '.

Now my desires for you are satisfied.

When in the past I sadly watched you greedily suck from the lips of flatterers the food of death,

2 Querant sibi jam in parvulis Babylonis dulces, sed truces matres, quibus lac mortis emulgeant, quos blandis mulceant favoribus, ac flammis nutriant sempiternis.

Eales translates : * Let the children of Babylon seek for themselves pleasant mothers, but pitiless, who will feed them with poisoned milk, and soothe them with caresses which will make them fit for everlasting flames '.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

the fuel of sin, I used to say to myself, sighing: ' Would that you were my brother nursed at my own mother's breasts'.

May they keep far away from you who would feed you with their alluring but treacherous milk of flattery, who expose you to the reproaches and mockery of everyone, while they are calling you blessed to your face !

Their applause was a byword the world over or rather made you a byword everywhere.

If even now they still mutter in your ears, say to them in the words of the Apostle: 'If I were still courting your favour, I should not be the slave of Christ'.

Those people whom we used to please with bad things we cannot please equally well with good, unless perhaps they too have changed and have begun to hate what we were and esteem what we are now.

10. Two unheard-of and detestable improprieties have arisen in the Church lately.

If you will pardon my saying so, one of these was the arrogance of your way of life.

But this, by the grace of God, is now mended to the glory of his name, to your everlasting reward, and to the edification of all of us.

God can also bring it about that we will soon be consoled by the mending of this other matter.

I fear to mention this hateful novelty in public, but I am loath to let it pass in silence. My grief urges me to speak, but fear binds my tongue.

My fear is only lest I offend anyone by speaking openly of what is disturbing me, for the truth can sometimes breed hatred.

But I hear the truth that breeds this sort of hatred comforting me with the words,

"It must needs be that scandals come ', and I do not consider that what follows applies to me at all: "But woe to the man through whom it comes'.

When scandal comes through vices being denounced, it comes through those who do what is blameworthy and not through those who blame it. And I do not set myself up as being more circumspect or more discreet than he who said: "It is better that there should be a scandal than that truth should be compromised'.!

Although I do not know what good it would do if I did keep silent about what all the world is talking, if I alone were to try and cover up that foul thing the stench of which is in everyone's nostrils.

I dare not hold my own nose against such a bad smell.

11. And who would not be indignant, who would not deplore, even if only in secret, that a man should against the Gospel both serve

God as a deacon and Mammon as a minister of state, that he should be so loaded with ecclesiastical honours as to seem hardly inferior to the bishops, while being at the same time so involved in military affairs as to take precedence over the commanders of the army?? I ask you

1St. Gregory, Hom. 7 in Ezech.

* This is the notorious Stephen of Garlande. His family was very friendly with Louis 'le

Gros', Stephen came to court as a young man and succeeded his brother as seneschal of the royal palace.

He was very active in affairs but became so swollen-headed that, after he had made himself objectionable to Queen Adela, he was deprived of his honours and banished from court. ee seneschal, he was not only a deacon, but Archdeacon of Notre-Dame and Dean of rleans.

TO SUGER, ABBOT OF ST. DENIS

what sort of monster is this! that being a cleric wishes to be thought a soldier as well, and succeeds in being neither?

It is an abuse of both conditions that a deacon should serve the table of a king and that a servant of the king should minister at the holy mysteries of the altar.

Who would not be astonished, or rather disgusted, that one and the same person should, arrayed in armour, lead soldiers into battle and, clothed in alb and stole, pronounce the Gospel in the church, should at one time give the signal for battle on the bugle and at another inform the people of the commands of the bishop.

Unless perhaps something worse is true, namely that the man is ashamed of the Gospel in which the Vessel of Election gloried, is embarrassed at being seen as a cleric, and thinks it more honourable to be thought a soldier, preferring the court to the church, the table of the king to the altar of Christ, the cup of demons to the chalice of the Lord.

This seems to be the more probable, in that although he holds many preferments from the Church, despite the unwilling toleration of the canons for such a number of offices being held by one man, yet they say he is more proud of the one name by which he is known in the palace than of all his other titles.

Although he is archdeacon, deacon, and provost in many churches yet none of these titles gives him so much pleasure as Seneschal to his Majesty the King. What a novel and odious perversity it is that a man should think it more becoming to be known as a retainer of another man than a servant of God and consider it more dignified to be called an official of a king of this world than of the King of heaven.

A man that puts the army before his clerical state, Pate business before the Church, certainly proves that he prefers human things to divine and earthly to heavenly things.

Is it more dignified to be called Seneschal than Deacon or Archdeacon?

It is, but for a layman not for a deacon.

12. What a strange and blind sort of ambition this man has!

He prefers the depths to the heights, a dung-hill to the pleasant places in which his lot has been cast, and he pours scorn on the desirable land.

He completely confuses two different states of life, that of a minister of God and that of a minister of the king; and he abuses with great nicety both of them by choosing the honours, but not the labour of the army in the one, and the revenues, but not the service of religion in the other.

Who cannot understand that the kingdom, just as much as religion, is disgraced by this, for it is just as unbecoming to the majesty of the king that hardy men should be commanded by a cleric, as it is to the state of a deacon that he should take the king's money to fight. What king would choose to have an unwarlike cleric at the head of his army rather than one of his most intrepid soldiers?

And what cleric would consider it anything but unworthy of his state to be under obedience to a layman?

His very tonsure \ {t is very tempting to see here a reminiscence of the first verses of Horace's De Arte Poetica.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

more becomes the kingly state than the condition of a retainer, and on the other hand it is not on psalms so much as arms that the throne depends.

Certainly if perhaps, as sometimes happens, the one gains where the other loses so that, namely, the abasement of the king makes for the honour of the cleric or the derogation of the cleric adds something to the honour of the king, as for instance when some noble woman by marrying a man of humble birth lessens her dignity while raising his; if, I say, this is the case and from such a state of affairs either the king or the cleric gains something, the evil of it might somehow be tolerated.

But as it is the loss of both has been to the advantage of neither, the dignity of both has suffered since it ill becomes a cleric to be called to be the seneschal of the king, just as much as it ill becomes the king to have in that position of government anyone but a strong and brave man.

It is indeed very strange that either power should allow such a state of affairs, that the Church should not reject the military deacon and that the court should not expel its clerical chief.

13. I had intended and probably ought to have denounced this state of affairs more sharply than I have done, but the limits of a letter indicate an end.

And I have spared a man whom report speaks of as your friend chiefly because I fear to offend you.

I would not have a man your friend who is not true.

If you persist in regarding him as your friend, prove yourself a true friend to him by doing what you can to make him a friend of the truth.

True friendship is only possible between two who are united in the love of truth.

And, if he will not yield to you in this, do you hold fast to what you have got and join. the head to the tail of the offering.!

By the grace of God you have received a robe of many colours, see that it covers you for it is no use beginning a work if you do not persevere to the end.

Let my letter end with this warning to you to make a good end of what you have begun.

LETTER 81

TO ABBOT LUKE

Luke was Abbot of Cuissy, an abbey of the Premonstratensian Order, in the diocese of Laon.

Ye have shown, my dear friend, that you have a very good quality and one which is not common.

It is that you not only listen to the advice of one junior to yourself, but are even grateful for it, very wisely regarding the truth of what is said and not the insignificance of the person who says it.

I myself give thanks to God that my presumption has earned your thanks and not your wrath.

And now, 'This means to join the end to the beginning of the work.

It is an allusion to Exodus xxix, which commands the offering at the same time of the head and the tail of the victim.

TO ABBOT LUKE

counting on your outstanding humility, I shall venture with all the greater confidence to continue advising you.

I implore you by the blood that Christ shed for souls to beware of the fearful danger incurred by souls bought at so great a price, when men and women live together under the same roof.

It is a danger especially feared by those who have learned from long experience of the devil's wiles to say with the Apostle: 'We know well enough how resourceful is Satan'.

The experience you have had of this brother's fall, about which you have consulted me, should have taught you to pay especial heed to the advice or rather the command of the Apostle to 'keep clear of fornication'.

But I must say I am surprised that you should have considered it necessary to write to me on the matter when you have near at hand in William, Abbot of St. Thierry, a very experienced man of our Order who is especially fond of your house.

And you must surely have at Prémontré men to advise you who are wise and faithful and well able to unravel difficult situations.

2. However, as for reasons best known to yourself you have asked me, I shall say what I think and not hold my tongue.

If the brother had first confessed his fall however grave and disgraceful, then it would have been your duty to have kept him by you and cured him.

But now that the evil odour of the crime has reached others, you must still try to cure him, but by different means.

It is perhaps no longer expedient that he should be suffered to remain with you lest, as you say in your letter, you have cause to fear, your young and immature flock should become infected.

On the other hand you must not entirely close your fatherly heart to this erring son however great his fall may have been. I think it is a sound and kindly counsel to find another house for him, one of Dom Norbert's remoter houses, where he can be taken in to do penance in a different place, but under the same vows, until you see fit to recall him.

I do not believe it would be expedient for your own Order that he should pass over to ours.

He has denied in my presence what you tell me in your letter about him saying that we have promised to receive him if he comes with your licence.

Certainly if you do not wish to send him away to one of the houses I have suggested or if, in spite of your wishing to do s0, he is not willing to go, or if you cannot find a place to receive him, then, owing to the urgency of the case, it will be necessary either to let him go to save his soul where he wants or, for the sake of pity, to keep him with you; but this only if you can see your way to removing completely all opportunity for him repeating or spreading defilement.

Enough on this matter.

3. There is another matter concerning yourself which, with my usual presumption, I shall not hesitate to mention. I refer to that mill where the lay-brothers in charge have to submit to the company of women.

IfIam to be trusted there are only three courses open to you.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

Either you forbid all access to women or you put the mill in charge of outsiders and not lay-brothers or else you give it up completely.

LETTER 82

TO GUY, ABBOT OF MOLESME

Guy was the second Abbot of Molesme after St. Robert. op, from whom all good dispositions come and who is acquainted

G with all that we feel, knows how deeply I sympathize with you in the troubles from which I have heard you are suffering.

But on the other hand, when I consider not through whom but from whom they have come, the sure confidence I have that before long I shall be able to rejoice with you over your prosperity equals the compassion

I feel for you in your present difficulties.

Only do not be carried away by your vexation but agree with me and, like holy Job, accept with equanimity whatever the Lord sends, whether it be good or bad, or rather, after the example of holy David, realize you should not be angry with the people from whom you have suffered these afflictions, so much as humbled under the mighty hand of God who undoubtedly sent them to try you.

But as they are servants of the church committed to your care it is only right that you should mete out to them a suitable punishment for their abominable presumption, and that the damage suffered by your monastery should be in part made good from their own possessions, only you should aim rather at chastising their sins than avenging your injuries.

I beg you, and in begging you I advise that you not only consider what they deserve, but also bear in mind what is becoming for you, or in other words that you should exalt mercy over judgement and glorify God by your moderation.

My spirit advises through your mouth that son of yours who is so dear to me both on your own account and for his own sake that he does not allow himself to be so upset by his indignation, however just it may be, as to forget the command of our blessed Lord to turn the other cheek.

LETTER 83

TO GERARD, ABBOT OF POUTHIERES

Pouthieres was an abbey of Benedictines in the diocese of Langres, founded by Gerard, Count of Nevers.

I DO not remember ever having written anything against you to the Count of Nevers.

If I have written to this prince on behalf of your church, I did so to help you and not to accuse you.

I had heard that he intended to pay you a visit to see whether there was any foundation in the evil reports that were going abroad about your

TO THE ABBOT OF ST. JOHN OF CHARTRES

I21I house and who was to blame in the matter, so that if perhaps there should be anything wrong, with care and good-will he might put it right.

I do not see why you should complain that I have injured you if I have tried by encouragement to fortify him in his just and pious intention; in fact I consider that in my zeal for God's house I have done right to impress upon him his responsibility in this matter.)

You cite Scripture to prove that I have done wrong by not coming to you first, but I want you to realize that it is not with you that I have any quarrel, I am merely concerned out of charity for the peace of your monastery.

You will know the truth more fully if, as you say you intend to do, you bring the matter to me in person.

I am to be found here any day of the present? week you care to call.

LETTER 84

TO THE ABBOT OF ST. JOHN OF CHARTRES

This would probably be Stephen, who after being Abbot of the Augustinian house of St. John of Chartres became Patriarch of Jerusalem in succession to Germundus in the year 1128.

T first I did not intend to answer your query about those matters A on which you troubled to consult me, not so much because I was doubtful about what to answer as because it seemed impudent and superfluous to offer my counsel to a man of counsel like yourself.

But when I considered that many or, I should say, almost all wise men, while they can easily solve the difficulties of others are apt to be doubtful and anxious about their own and place far greater confidence in the judgement of others, I decided (not unreasonably, I hope) to break my resolution and to tell you quite simply what I think, always providing that I do not thereby prejudice the judgement of those wiser than myself.

Unless I am deceived you have informed me by that religious man Ursus,? Abbot of St. Denis, that you are thinking of leaving your country, home, and those over whom it has pleased

God that you should have charge, and of setting out for Jerusalem to live there to God alone and make your own soul. I agree that it may be a good thing for a man who strives for perfection to leave his own country, according to those words: 'Go forth out of thy country and from thy kinsfolk'.

But I do not see how it follows that you are justified in deserting those who have been entrusted to your care.

Why do you want to do so?

Are you attracted by the prospect of being free from the burden of responsibility?

But charity secketh not its own.

Does the pleasant prospect of peace and leisure beckon you? But you would be obtaining it at the cost of others.

For my 1 A responsibility he had inherited from the founder, Count Gerard of Nevers.

2 instantis hebdomade.

Eales translates.' of the coming week'.

8 The fifth abbot of the Canons Regular of St. Denis at Rheims.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

part I would gladly ake the prospect of any spiritual advantage whatsoever if it could only be obtained at the price of giving scandal to others.

Undoubtedly charity suffers when there is scandal, and I very much wonder what sort of spiritual advantage could be obtained at the cost of charity. How can anyone who prefers his own quiet to the common good possibly say with truth: 'For me life means

Christ and death is a prize to win'; and where would those words of the Apostle come in:

" None of us lives as his own master, none of us dies as his own master'; and:

' This is my rule, to satisfy all alike, studying the general welfare before my own'; and:

' Christ died for us all, so that being alive should no longer mean living with our own life, but with his life who died for us and has risen again'.

2. Perhaps you will ask, 'If this is so, whence comes my great desire?'

Pardon me if I say quite frankly what I think.

No one who has any experience of the wiles of Satan can have any doubt that it is his angel under the guise of an angel of light that is trying to instil into your thirsty soul the false sweetness of * stolen waters ', a sweetness which in truth is far more bitter than wormwood.

In fact who else would suggest scandal, stir up dissension, and trouble unity and peace, if not the ancient enemy of the human race, the enemy of the cross of Christ, the devil?

He by whose envy death entered the world is even now envious of all the good he sees you are doing and, since he has been a liar from the beginning, he is lying now by promising you better things which he knows are not there. How could Truth suggest anything contrary to those most trustworthy words, ' Are you yoked to a wife?

Then do not go about to free yourself.'

And when has charity, which we know is on fire at every scandal, ever been known to instigate scandal?

No, I tell you that it is the evil one, he whose envy makes him an enemy of charity, whose lies render him always hostile to truth, it is he who is now lying to you, mixing a false honey with a true gall, by promising what is doubtful as if it were certain, and by giving out what is true as if it were false, not so as to give you what you are vainly hoping for, but so as to rob you of what you are holding with such benefit.

He is going about seeking how he may snatch from your flock the care of their shepherd, so that it may perish as, without anyone to save it, it undoubtedly will.

And at the same time he is trying to make the shepherd subject to that terrifying curse:

' Woe to him through whom scandal comes'.

But I trust that your God-given wisdom will prevent you from being led astray or deceived by any cunning ruse of the evil one to make you desert a certain good, and incur a certain evil for the sake of a good that is not certain.

TO SIMON, ABBOT OF ST. NICOLAS

LETTER 85

TO SIMON, ABBOT OF ST. NICOLAS

A letter of consolation and advice to Abbot Simon on account of the persecution he was enduring.

Mabillon tells us that the persecutions came from his monks because Abbot Simon insisted on giving up certain parishes belonging to the monastery on account of a suspicion of simony attaching to them.

Indeed we know that because he could not get his community to agree with him on this matter Abbot Simon resigned his office for a time. But the context of this letter gives the impression that his troubles arose from a well-meaning attempt to introduce into his monastery a stricter way of life.

Abbot Simon became Abbot of St. Nicolas-aux-Bois in the diocese of Laon after being a monk of St. Nicasius at Rheims. if coup not but feel for you when I read in your letter of the HL persecutions you are obliged to endure for the sake of justice.

Although Christ's promise of a kingdom should be enough for you, yet I will for my part faithfully offer you such consolation as I can and such advice as I deem wholesome.

For who could watch without anxiety Peter amidst the waves holding out his hands for help; or hear without sorrow the dove of Christ no longer cooing but sighing, as if to say: "How can we sing the songs of the Lord in a strange land'? Who, Iask, could see without tears the tears of Christ himself, as he even now lifts up his eyes to the hills whence comes his help?

Although to be sure I, to whom in your humility you say you look for help, am on no hill, but am still labouring with great efforts in this vale of tears against the insidious stratagems of the relentless enemy and the violent malice of the world, so that with you I cry out:

' Our help is in the Lord who has made heaven and earth'.

' All who will live devoutly in Christ Jesus, shall suffer persecution', so that even though they may never cease to have holy desires yet they are often unable to accomplish them.

The multitude of wicked who make it their business to oppose the holy resolutions of good people is so great that there is nothing wrong in leaving them sometimes unaccomplished.

So Aaron against his will gave in to the wretched demands of the turbulent people.

So Samuel unwillingly anointed Saul to satisfy the same people, because they insisted on having a king.

So David when he wanted to build the temple was prevented from accomplishing his pious design because he was a man of war obliged to wage constant war against the enemies who infested his frontiers.

Just in the same way, venerable father, do I counsel you (yet not so as to prejudice the advice of those wiser than I) to moderate the full rigour of your purpose and of those who side with you, so as not to ignore the welfare of weaker souls.

Those in the Order of Cluny over whom you have consented to rule should be

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

invited and not forced to a stricter way of life. And those of them who wish to live more strictly should be persuaded to accommodate themselves, so far as they can without sin, to the weaker brethren or, if it can be done without scandal to either party, they should be permitted to live their own life where they are, or else they might be allowed to go free from the congregation so as to find a community where they can live as they wish.

LETTER 86

TO THE SAME

ou see it was for a very good reason and not for nothing that I Ngee acted contrary to my usual practice by keeping your stray sheep here for atime.

I did not do it for my own sake, but for yours and his, so that by this ruse or, I should say, by this timely assistance,

I might be able to kill two birds with one stone and satisfy both his desire for a stricter life and yours that he should stay at home.

I do not say this to show my good will towards you, that I could never do adequately, try as I might, but so as to demonstrate the truth of what I remember having told you before, namely that a monk who is unsettled and dissatisfied may be often quickly reconciled to the life in his own monastery by the experience of something a little stricter somewhere else. You say in your letter that you want my advice on how to treat this reconciled brother.

But I do not think there is any need for it, because he is returning to you ready to do whatever you want, as it is only right he should, and not, as is too often the case, with the intention of persuading you to do what he wants.

He is very much dreading the reception he will receive when he comes back, so I add my prayer to his and beg you to moderate the difficulties it is usual to make before re-admitting a fugitive monk, and to deal with him more kindly than is the custom in such cases.

The deed is the same, but the motive for it demands a different verdict.

There is all the difference between a religious who leaves his monastery from fear or hatred of the life, and one who from his love and desire for it leaves one monastery for another.

LETTER 87

TO WILLIAM OF ST. THIERRY

William of St. Thierry was born at Liége in the last quarter of the eleventh century.

At some unknown date he became a monk at the Abbey of St.

Nicasius, and afterwards, about the year 1120, Abbot of St. Thierry in the diocese of Rheims.

He was early drawn into the orbit of St. Bernard and became one of his closest friends.

It was at his instigation that the saint composed his Apology and the two important treatises on Grace and Free

TO WILLIAM OF ST. THIERRY

Will and on the Errors of Abelard.

He was also the biographer of St.

Bernard.

William is an interesting character of whom we would like to know more, but his flame was eclipsed by the brighter light of his friend. He was certainly a man of God and also something of a scholar.

He was the author of several treatises among them the very beautiful Golden Epistle to the Carthusians of Mont Dieu which has been translated into English by Walter Shewring.

Much against the wishes and advice of his friend he resigned his abbacy and became a simple Cistercian monk at the Abbey of Signy in the diocese of Rheims.

We are told that the severity of the life nearly broke his resolution, which is not surprising considering that he must have been nearly fifty years old at the time and not strong physically.

But he persevered and died a very saintly monk 'in great sweetness of spirit, in purity of body and soul, perfect in all the virtues'.

The life of William of St. Thierry would be a fruitful matter for research.

To the Lord Abbot William, the charity of a pure heart, a good conscience, and unfeigned faith, from Brother Bernard.

O one knows what is in man save the spirit of a man that is in N him; man sees only on the surface and God alone can search the heart; yet you have been able to weigh and mutually to compare our affection for each other, so as to deliver a verdict not only on the state of your own heart, but even on that of another.

I wonder how or on what grounds you have been able to do this, and I cannot wonder enough.

It is an error to which the human mind is ever prone not only to consider good to be evil, what is true to be false, and what is false to be true, but also to be doubtful about what is certain, and certain about what is doubtful.

You may be right when you say that my affection for you is less than yours is for me, but I am certainly certain that you cannot be certain.

How can you know for certain what it is certain you cannot be certain about?!

Paul himself mistrusted his own judgement and declared that he did not judge himself.

Peter regretted that he was deceived by his own presumption when he said, ' Even though I should have to die with thee, yet I would not deny thee'.

In the matter of our Lord's pee the disciples had no confidence in themselves, but each asked, 'Is it I,

Lord?'

David confessed his own ignorance and begged the Lord to overlook it.

But wonderful to say, you have been able to assert, with I know not what grounds for your confidence:

' My affection for you is greater than yours is for me '."

2. These are your very words, and I could wish they were not, for I do not know if they are true.

If you know, how do you know?

. sed certe certum sum, certum non esse tibi. Quomodo ergo pro certo affirmas, de quo certum est, quia certus minime sis?

2 ut plus amans, inquiens, minus diligar.

THE LETTBRS OF ST. BERNARD

What proof have you that my affection for you is less than yours is for me?

Is it, as you aver in the postscript of your letter, that the messengers from here who pass to and fro by you never bring any token of my good will or affection?

What sort of token, what sort of proof do you expect?

Are you worried because I have not yet once answered your many letters to me? How could I possibly suppose your mature wisdom would be satisfied with my ignorant scribbling?

I have not forgotten those words, Little children, let us love not in word, nor in tongue, but in deed and truth ', and when have you ever needed my help and not received it? O Lord, who searchest the hearts of men!

O Sun of Justice, whose rays enlighten the hearts of men with divers graces!

Thou knowest and I feel that by thy gift I love this man for the sake of his goodness.

But how much I love him, that I cannot tell, thou knowest.

It is thou, Lord, who givest the power to love, it is thou who knowest how much thou hast given him to love me and me to love him.

Without thy telling him, how could any man say, 'I love more than I am loved', unless he be one who has already seen his light in thy light, seen by the light of thy truth how much he burns with the fire of charity?

3. But, O Lord, I am for the time satisfied to see my own darkness in thy light, so long as thou dost visit those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death.

In thy light the thoughts of men, the hidden places of the dark are made manifest.

When the shadows are dispelled, then by thy light only the light is seen.

By thy favour I feel that I love this man, but I have not yet the light to see whether I love him enough.

I do not know whether I have yet achieved that love, greater than which no man can have, whereby I would be enabled to lay down my life for my friends.

Who shall boast that he has a clean heart, much less a perfect heart?

O Lord, who dost enlighten the lamp by which I see and hate my own darkness, enlighten, I pray thee, my very darkness that I may behold within myself and be glad, an ordered charity which knows and loves only what is worthy of love and in the measure that it is worthy of love and for the reasons that it is worthy of love, and be myself unwilling to be loved save in thee and in the measure that I deserve.

Woe is me, if (as I greatly fear) I am either loved by this man more than I deserve or love him less than he deserves.

If the better a man is the more he should be loved, but they are the better who love the more, what else can I say than that I must love him more than myself, because I have no doubt that he is better than myself, but less than I should, because I am capable of less?

4. But (it is you I now address, my father) that your charity is greater than mine is all the more reason why you should not despise my smaller capacity, because, although you love more than I do, you do not love more than you are able.

And I too, although I love

TO WILLIAM OF ST. THIERRY

you less than I should, yet I love you as much as I can according to the power that has been given me.

Draw me after you that I may reach you and with you receive more fully whence comes the power to love. Why do you try to reach me and complain that you are not able?

You could reach me if you but considered what Iam; and you can reach me still whenever you wish, if you are content to find me as Tam and not as you wish me to be. I cannot think what else you see in me besides what I am, what it is you are chasing which is not me.

You do not overtake it, because it is not me, because I am not able to be what you would like me to be and, to use your own words, I do not fail you, it is God in me who fails you.

And now if all this trifling pleases you, tell me and I will give you more, for, in obeying you, I shall not fear the reproach of presumption.

That little preface! which you ask to be sent you, I have not got by me at the moment.

I have not yet had it copied, because I did not think it worth while.

May he who gives you the desire grant you the power to accomplish whatever you rightly wish for yourself or for your friends, most reverend father, worthy of all the affection I can bestow.

LETTER 88

TO THE SAME

To his friend all that a friend could wish, from Brother Bernard of Clairvaux.

T was you who gave me this formula of greeting when you wrote I 'To his friend all that a friend could wish'.

Receive back what is your own, and in doing so realize that my soul is not far from one with whom I share a common language.

Now, briefly and as I have the time, I must answer your letter.

It came on the feast of Our Lady's Nativity and all my attention was absorbed in observing the festival, so that I could think of nothing else.

But your messenger was so anxious to take to his feet again that he could scarcely wait until the next day, so that I should be more free to answer you something.

As for that fugitive monk, after I had given him a harsh scolding suited to his hard heart I could do nothing else than send him back whence he came for our customs forbid me to keep any monk

~ here without the consent of his abbot.

You also should scold him sharply and incite him to make humble satisfaction, then comfort him with a letter to his abbot on his behalf.

2. With regard to the state of my health, I can only answer your kind enquiries by saying that I have been sick and still am sick, but net much more than usual nor much less.

The reason why I have not sent that man as I intended is because I fear more the scandal of many

1 This refers to the letter which precedes the Apology.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

souls than the danger of one body.1_ And now, so as not to pass over completely without mention the matter you wrote to me about,

I come to yourself.

You say you wish to hear what I, as one who knows you well, think of your plan.2

If Iam to say what I think, I must tell you that, unless I am mistaken, it is something I could not advise you to attempt and you could not carry out.

Indeed I wish for you what it has for long been no secret to me that you wish for yourself.

But putting aside what both of us wish, as it is right we should, it is safer for me and more advantageous for you if I advise you as I think God wishes.

Therefore I say hold on to what you have got, remain where you are, and try to benefit those over whom you tule.

Do not try to escape the responsibility of your office while you are still able to discharge it for the benefit of your subjects. Woe to you if you rule them and do not benefit them, but far greater woe to you if you refuse to benefit them because you shirk the burden of ruling them.

LETTER 89

[TO THE SAME(?®) ]

It is not certain to whom this letter is addressed.

It might be William of St.

Thierry, a friend of St. Bernard, who afterwards became a Cistercian against St. Bernard's advice, but Huffer considers this doubtful.

The date is uncertain.

To his friend Wi, Brother Bernard.

A' I drew myself in my letter to you, so I really am; except that I could not express on paper all that I felt in my heart.

You have not and never have had any reason at all to fear me.

And if I was ever afraid of you, now I am so no longer.

I do not ask for my friend back, because I am confident that I hold him; I do not receive him back, because I have never lost him.

I cling to him, and there is no one who can take him from me.

I embrace again as of old my friend because true friendship never wears thin, else it were no true friendship. I shall hold on to him and 'I shall not suffer him to go until I bring him into my mother's house and into the chamber of her that bore me'.

When I speak of him as at leisure, I do not mean that he is idle, but that he is fortunate; for his is no leisurely leisure, but a leisure zealous for good and fruitful for eternity.

As for myself, unhappy man that I am, I am not worthy of holy leisure, I am not privy to the holy peace of contemplation.

But because you deem me worthy of yourself, I am yours and shall be yours as long as I live.

7 Quod vero non misi quem missurus eram, causa est, plus me animarum scandalum, quam wunius corporis periculum timuisse.

® William wanted to resign his abbacy and become a monk at Clairvaux under St. Bernard.

See introductory note to Letter 87.

TO OGER, A CANON REGULAR

The sermons you ask for are not yet ready, but they shall be got ready and you shall have them.

LETTER 90

TO OGER, A CANON REGULAR

Oger was a Canon Regular of Mont-Saint-Eloi near Arras.

He had a great reputation for learning, and it is evident that he was on intimate terms with St. Bernard.

The saint submitted to him for approval his Apology before even William of St. Thierry had seen it.

In the year 1125 he was chosen by the Bishop of Noyon to introduce the Canons Regular into the parish of St. Médard in Tournai, and the foundation of Saint-Nicolas-des-Prés is largely his work.

He ruled this house as superior for fourteen years.

It was his resignation that elicited this vehement letter of reproach from St. Bernard.

Mabillon dates this letter about the year 1126, but it was clearly written after Oger had resigned from being the superior of Saint-Nicolas-des-Prés, and would therefore belong to about the year 1139, the year in which the Lateran Council met in Rome and St. Malachy on his way there stopped at Clairvaux.

According to Vacandard? this letter and the three which follow are set in an order diametrically reverse to the chronological, so that Letter 93 should come first, followed by 92 and 91, all written before the foundation of Saint-Nicolas-des-Prés, with the following letter last as written after Oger's resignation.

Oger is also referred to in Letter 96, written about the year 1133.

To Brother Oger, that he may walk worthily before God unto the end of his days, from Brother Bernard, monk but sinner, who loves him dearly.

F I have seemed dilatory in answering your letter the reason is that I I have lacked a messenger.

I beg you to believe that this letter which you now read was written some time ago but, as I have said, for want of anyone to take it, time was lost before it was sent, although not before it was written.

I gather from your letter that you found your pastoral charge irksome and have relinquished it after having not so much asked for your bishop's permission as exacted it by your insistence, and that even then you only obtained it on condition that, though dwelling elsewhere but in his diocese, you should not withdraw yourself from his authority, but that as this did not please you, you had recourse to a higher authority in the person of the archbishop, and then returned to your first home and to your abbot supported by his sanction.

Now you implore me to instruct you how you should live after all this.

Fine sort of doctor, incomparable teacher that I am, who when I begin to teach what I do not know may then be

1 Vacandard, Vie de Saint Bernard, vol. I, p. 196, n. (1927 edn.).

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

expected to realize at last that I know nothing at all! A sheep might as well come to a goat for wool, a mill to a furnace for water, a wise man to a fool for knowledge, as you to me for guidance.

Furthermore in all your letters you exalt me above myself, interlarding everything you say with praises of myself, praises which, as I am conscious I do not deserve them, I must ascribe to your good will and overlook your ignorance of the facts.

You see only on the surface, God searches the heart.

If I carefully examine myself under his awful gaze, it is certain that I will know myself better than you know me for the reason that I am closer to myself.

And so I put greater faith in what I see when I examine myself than I do in your praises, who believe you see in me what I know is not there!

2. You apologize to me for not having taken my advice when I counselled and encouraged you not to give way to despondency but to be of good heart and carry patiently the burden imposed on you, which once undertaken cannot be put aside.

I accept your apology, as you ask.

I am fully aware of the aridity of my own wisdom and I always suspect my rash stupidity.

As I always hope that people will act more judiciously than I have been able to instruct them, I have no right, I do not dare to be annoyed when the course I have advocated is not followed.

Whenever my advice is followed, I confess that I always feel oppressed with a great burden of responsibility, and I can never be confident and always await the outcome with anxiety.

But it is your responsibility, if advisedly you have not followed my counsel in the matter.

It is also the responsibility of those whose more wholesome advice you have followed in preference to mine, if indeed you have taken any advice at all, whether you have acted reasonably or not.

Let them see to it whether, when Christ was obedient to his Father unto death, it is permissible for a Christian to free himself before death of the yoke which obedience has laid upon him.

You say you asked the bishop for his permission and obtained it. Well and good, but you asked for it in a way that you should not have done, so that you cannot be said to have received it so much as exacted it. A permission that has been extorted is no permission at all but an exaction.!

What the bishop unwillingly did when he was overborne by your insistence was not to absolve you, but to cut you off.

3. I congratulate you on having disburdened yourself, but I very much fear that in doing so you have dishonoured God.?

Without doubt you have, so far as you could, opposed his designs by casting yourself down from the post to which he had promoted you.

If, by way of excuse, you allege the necessity of poverty, I reply that necessity wins a crown;* if you allege the difficulty or impossibility of your position, I reply that all things are possible to one who believes.

1 extorta seu coacta licentia, licentia non est, sed violentia.

® quod sis exonoratus .

. exhonoratus sit Deus.

3 Rule of St. Benedict, Chap. 7.

TO OGER, A CANON REGULAR

I31I Better tell the truth and admit that your own quiet pleased you more than labouring for the benefit of others.

I don't wonder at it, I admit that I feel the same way myself, but it should not please you too much.

And it is too much, if a thing good in itself pleases no matter how it is obtained, even if it is obtained unlawfully, for nothing can be right to have, if it cannot be had rightly, as it is written:

' If you rightly offer and do not rightly divide, you have sinned'.

Either you should not have undertaken at all the care of souls or, having undertaken it, you should on no account have relinquished it, according to those words:

' Are you married to a wife?

Then do not go about to be free of her.'

4. What is the point of all these arguments of mine? Am I trying to persuade you to take up again the burden of your office, when it is clear that there is no place open to you?

Or do I despair of you, as if you had saddled yourself with a sin you could not get rid of?

Such is very far from my intention.

But I do not want you to regard what you have done as if it were a trifling matter.

I want you always to fear for it, always to be sorry for it, and never to regard yourself as safe, according to those words of Scripture: "Blessed evermore is the timorous conscience'.

You see what sort of fear it is with which I am trying to smite you? Not the sort that will lead you into the pit of despair, but the sort that will win you hope of eternal life.

For there is a fruitless fear which is cruel and sad and which never obtains pardon because it never tries to; and there is a loving, humble, and fruitful fear which easily obtains mercy for anyone however great his sin.

Such a fear begets, fosters, and preserves humility, and also gentleness, patience, and meekness.

Who would not be delighted with such a fair progeny?

But the other sort of fear begets a sorry brood: obstinacy, immoderate sadness, hatred, terror, scorn, and desperation.

So I would not have you regard your fault with the sort of fear that begets desperation, but with the sort that engenders hope, fearful lest you do not fear or do no* fear enough.

5. There is another thing which I fear even more for you, it is that, like those of whom it is written, ' Sin and shame is all their liking', you may be deceived not only into thinking that you have done no wrong, but even into congratulating yourself on having done something which very few are wont to do, in scorning high office and preferring to place yourself under another's rule when you were freed from ruling others yourself.

This is a false humility which foments real pride in the heart that thinks such things; for what could be more proud than to attribute to a spontaneous and free act of the will what was really due to the force of necessity or the infirmity of faintheartedness.

And even if you had done it voluntarily and not because ou had been overcome by work or compelled by necessity, there still could be nothing more proud than to plume yourself on it; for you

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

have preferred your own will to the designs of God, choosing quiet for yourself rather than the work for which he had selected you.

If therefore having scorned God you make matters worse by congratulating yourself on it, your self-congratulation is hardly a good thing !

Avoid all self-congratulation, put away all complacency, so that you may always be profitably anxious about yourself, always humbly fearful for yourself, but, as I have said already, with the fear that mitigates and does not provoke wrath.

6. If this horrible fear should ever besiege your heart, silently suggesting that your worship of God is not acceptable and that your repentance is fruitless because you cannot correct the matter in which you have offended him, do not for one moment give way to it, but answer it faithfully by saying to yourself: I have done evil, but it is done and cannot be undone.

Who can tell whether God has not foreseen that it would profit me, that he who is good has not wished that good should accrue to me out of the evil I have done? May he punish me for what I have done amiss, but let the good which he has provided for me remain.

The goodness of God knows how to use our disordered wishes and actions, often lovingly turning them to our advantage while always preserving the beauty of his order.

What loving care the divine goodness has for the sons of Adam!

Never does it cease to pour forth its blessings, not only where it can see nothing to deserve them, but often where it sees everything to the contrary !

But to return to yourself: according to the two kinds of fear which I have distinguished above, I wish you to fear and not to fear; to presume and not to presume.

To fear, in order that you may repent; not to fear, in order that you may presume; to presume so that you do not lose heart, not to presume so that you become slothful.

7. Behold how great is my confidence in you!

I have scolded you sharply, and I have not hesitated to judge your conduct before knowing all the facts so that, for all I can tell, you have better reasons for it than I am aware of. You might not have wished to put in your letter all the reasons that would have excused you, either from humility, or for the sake of brevity.

So I leave the verdict undecided, for it is clear I know nothing about the matter.

There is however one thing you have done for which I have nothing but praise.

I refer to the way that, when you had put off the yoke of office, without any thought of keeping your freedom you without hesitation immediately put yourself again under the discipline you loved, not ashamed to become once more a disciple after you had been a master.

When you had been freed of your pastoral duties you could have remained your own master, since a religious is dispensed from obedience to his former superior when once he becomes an abbot.

Yet you did not take advantage of this privilege, but as you had refused to rule others so you feared to rule yourself; believing yourself incapable of ruling

TO OGER, A CANON REGULAR

others, you had no confidence in yourself and scorned to become your own master, deservedly so because he becomes the disciple of a fool who sets up to be his own teacher.

What the experience of others may be I do not know, but my own experience is that I can far more easily command and far more safely rule others than I can myself. You were prudently humble and humbly prudent when you did not at all believe that you were sufficient to your own salvation and decided henceforth to live under the authority of another.

8. I praise you also that you did not seek out a new master, but returned to the familiar cloister from which you had set out and to the father whom you had left.

It would not have been fitting that a strange house should have profited by the loss of your mother house in which you were brought up, but which sent you out at the behest of fraternal charity.

Yet I do not want you to think it a trivial matter that you have not received the permission of your bishop to return.

Hasten therefore to make what satisfaction you can, either in person or through another. After you have done this, try to live simply amongst your brethren, seeking God, submissive to your superior, obedient to your seniors, friendly with your juniors, pleasing to the angels, profitable in speech, humble of heart, kind to all. Beware of thinking that because you were once in a place of honour, you should still be honoured above others, rather show yourself all the more humble, and more humble than any.

It would be a shocking thing were you to exact honour when you have refused the labour.

9. There is another danger that can arise from this against which I would have you forewarned and forearmed.

We are all of us so unstable that what we wanted yesterday we often do not want to-day, and what we reject to-day to-morrow we want.

And so it can sometimes happen, at the suggestion of the devil, that the desire for honours that we remember will knock on the door of the soul, even so that what we were men enough to scorn we are childish enough to begin again to want.

All that the soul once found bitter—high position, care of the house, arrangement of affairs, salutes of servants, freedom of action, power over others—all this it begins to find sweet after all, so that sorrow is felt for what it was once irksome to have.

If you for one moment assent to this vile temptation (may it be very far from you to do any such thing !) your life will suffer no little harm.

10. Now you have all the wisdom of your wise and eloquent doctor whom you asked from so far away to teach you.

This is the long desired and expected praise you so much wanted to hear.

Or do you still expect something wonderful?

You have it all. What more do you want?

The spring is exhausted, and do you still expect water from a fountain that has run dry? Like the widow in the Gospels, of my poverty I have given you all I have got. Why so bashful?

Why hang your head?

You forced me.

You asked for a discourse

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

and now you have got it. A discourse long enough in all conscience, but saying nothing much; full of words and wind, but empty of sense.

Not one calculated to order charity within you' as you asked for, but one which will exhibit my lack of knowledge.

How can such ignorance as mine be now excused?

Perhaps I might say that I have been suffering from fever or that I was preoccupied with the cares of office when I dictated it, since we are told that ' The wisdom of the learned man is the fruit of leisure'.

All this might have been some excuse, if I had composed something great and important, but for such a little thing as this these excuses cannot be adduced with any confidence at all.

No, my only excuse is, as I have already said so often, the meagreness of my knowledge.

11. But in my confusion I have one consolation.

Although I may have disappointed you by not sending what you expected, you can see by what I have sent you that I have tried.

When ability is lacking the will must supply for the deed.

Although what I have written may be of no use to you, it will certainly profit my humility.

' While he holds his peace, a fool may pass for a wise man', for his silence is attributed to humility and not to lack of understanding.

And so by holding my peace I could have passed for a wise man.

But as it is some will laugh at my stupidity, others will mock at me as a fool, and yet others will be indignant at my presumption.

All this will be of no small help to my sanctification," because humiliations lead to humility and humility is the foundation of the spiritual life.

Humiliation is the only way to humility, just as patience is the only way to peace, and reading to knowledge.

If you want the virtue of humility you must not shun humiliations.

If you will not suffer yourself to be humbled, you can never achieve humility.

It is an advantage for me that my foolishness should be made public, that I whose lot it has often been to receive undeserved praise from those who do not know me, should now be discomforted by those who have found me out.

The Apostle alarms me when, fearful for himself, he says:

' But I restrain myself, lest any man should think of me above that which he seeth in me, or anything he heareth from me'.

How aptly he has said:

'I restrain myself'!

The arrogant man does not restrain himself, the proud man does not restrain himself, the vain man does not restrain himself, nor does the boasting man, who either lies about himself or credits himself with what is not his own, restrain himself.

Only the truly humble man can be said to restrain himself, sparing his own soul, because he prefers to conceal what he is, so that no one should believe him to be what he is not.3

12. It is very dangerous for anyone to hear himself spoken of above 1 Non quo, ut petieras, in corde tuo cavitas ordinetur.

Eales translates: 'Such is the discourse which ought to be received by you with charity ',

? religionis emolumentum.

8 The whole sentence is a play on St. Paul's use of the word Parco.

TO OGER, A CANON REGULAR

what he knows he deserves.

I pray that I may be humbled before men for the truth, just as much as it has been my lot to be undeservedly praised for what is not true. I rightly apply to myself those words of the Prophet: 'I have been lifted up only to be cast down and discomforted'; and again:

' Play the mountebank I will and humble myself in my own esteem', for I shall play the mountebank that I may be mocked.

A good sort of playing this, a playing calculated to enrage Michol and please God.

A good sort of playing which is ridiculous to men, but a very beautiful sight to the angels. I say it is a good sort of playing by which we become an object of reproach to the rich and of ridicule to the proud.

In fact what else do seculars think we are doing but playing when what they desire most on earth, we fly from; and what they fly from, we desire?

Like acrobats and jugglers, who with heads down and feet up, stand or walk on their hands, and thus draw all eyes to themselves.

But this is not a game for children or the theatre where lust is excited by the effeminate and indecent contortions of the actors, it is a joyous game, decent, grave, and admirable, delighting the gaze of the heavenly onlookers.

This pure and holy game he plays who says:

' We are become a spectacle to angels and men'.

And we too play this game that we may be ridiculed, discomforted, humbled, until he comes who puts down the mighty from their seat and exalts the humble.

May he gladden us, exalt us, and glorify us for ever.

LETTER'

TO THE SAME

WILL pass over my lack of ability, I will not mention my humble I profession or my profession of humility, and I will not plead my commonplace, not to say mediocre, position and name.

Whenever I mention anything like this you do not regard it as a reasonable excuse, but as a mere pretext for not answering your letters promptly.

According to your mood you call my quite legitimate modesty sometimes indiscretion and at other times false humility, and now you tell me it is pride.

So I will not make any more of what you regard as dubious excuses, I will merely point out to you as a friend what you must believe to be a fact, namely that because of the short summer nights and the full days I have not had one moment of leisure in which I could attend to your business since your messenger left me

. not the present one but the former.

As it is, your letter has found me so occupied that even to recount all I have to do would take too long.

I scarcely had time to read it when it came during my dinner.

And now by getting up early I am just able to scribble, on the quiet, this brief reply. Whether or not you will be satisfied with its brevity is your affair.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

2. To tell the truth, dear Oger, although my conscience bears witness that I am only trying to serve charity yet, for your sake, I cannot but be exasperated with all my cares.

I bear them only for the sake of charity, because I am debtor to the wise and unwise; only for her sake am I prevented from complying with your requests.

Does charity prevent me from doing what you ask in the name of charity? You have asked, you have implored, you have knocked, but charity has closed the door to you. Why be angry with me?

If you wish, if you dare, you should be angry with charity.

In the name of charity you have been bold to demand, and charity herself has refused you.

Already she complains of this long screed and is vexed with you for imposing it. Not that she is displeased with your zeal, for she gave you that, but she would have you rule zeal with knowledge and not try to hinder greater matters with things of lesser consequence.

See, even now I have become vexatious to lady charity, who urges me to make an end, but drawn on by my delight in conversing with you and by my desire to please you I am loath to be torn from a long letter and still have not finished.

There is so much to answer in your letter.

If only it were right for me to do as I please, I could probably satisfy both you and myself.

But she who commands otherwise is mistress or, I should say, lord for "God is charity'.

Such is her authority that I must obey her rather than you or myself.

So although I do not refuse what you ask, I must unwillingly and sadly defer it for the time, because I must obey charity, which is God, rather than men.

Otherwise I, a mere worm of the earth, in my desire humbly to please you, would be setting myself, under the cloak of humility, but with a real pride, against that stronghold of authority which, as you well say, can command even the angels in heaven.

3. As for that booklet of mine, even before your messenger arrived I had asked for it back from the man to whom I had lent it. But I have not gotit yet.

I will do what I can to have it here when you come (if you ever do come), so that you may see it and read it, but not copy it.' That other one I lent you I had meant you only to read, but you tell me you have had it copied. What use that can serve or whom it can possibly benefit is your responsibility.

I did not intend that you should send it to the Abbot of St. Thierry, but I do not mind. Why should I mind him seeing it when I would gladly lay bare my whole soul for him to see ifI could.

Alas that the mention of such a man should arise in so short a letter which even now clamours to be finished, when I would gladly dwell on his welcome memory !

Do not hesitate, I beg you, to find an opportunity of going to see him, and do not on any account allow anyone to see or copy the aforesaid

*It is said that St. Columba was sued in the court of the king at Tara by St. Finnan in the 6th century for having secretly copied a manuscript which belonged to him, and that St. Finnan won his case, and St. Columba was ordered to give up the copy he had made.

TO OGBR, A CANON REGULAR

booklet until you have been through it with him, discussed it with him, and have both made such corrections as may be necessary, so that every word of it may be supported by two witnesses.!

I leave to the judgement of you both whether it shall be published, or shown to only a few, or to no one at all.

I also leave to you both to decide whether the preface you have put together out of my other letters will stand or whether it would not be better to compose another.?

4. I had almost forgotten the complaint at the beginning of your letter that I had accused you of falsehood.

I do not remember saying any such thing about you.

But if I did (I would sooner believe I had forgotten than that your messenger had lied), it could only have been in fun that I said it and not seriously. How could I possibly believe that you were a trifler or one of those to whom Yes and No are the same.

May such a suspicion of you be very far from me who know full well that you are happy to carry the yoke of truth from your youth and restrain the years of indiscretion® with the gravity of your conduct.

{am not so simple as to believe that a simple statement from the lips without duplicity of heart can ever be a formal lie, nor am I so indifferent to you as to have forgotten what you have had at heart for so long and the obstacle that impedes its accomplishment.

LETTER 92

TO THE SAME

FEEL you may be annoyed or at least surprised that I answered your I long letter with only a short note.

But I beg you to remember those words of the Wise Man, ' All things have their season: there is a time for speaking and a time for keeping silence'.

And what time would there be for silence if conversation claimed even these holy days of Lent, and a sort of conversation all the more laborious for being so engrossing?

When we are together it is possible quickly to say what we want, but being absent from each other we must laboriously compose what we want to ask or reply. And where, I ask you, is the leisure, where the quiet of silence when one is thinking, composing, and writing?

You say that all this can be done in silence.

I am surprised that you can seriously mean this. How can the mind be quiet when composing a letter and a turmoil of expressions are clamouring and every sort of phrase and diversity of senses are jostling one another?

When words spring into the mind, but just the word one wants escapes one; when literary effect, sense, and how to convey a meaning clearly, and what should be said, and in what order it

1 yt in ore duorum testium stet omne verbum.

Literally: 'That in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word shall stand' (Deut. 19.15 and Matt. 18.16).

2 The booklet referred to here is plainly the Apologia of St. Bernard.

It was inscribed to Abbot William of St. Thierry, which accounts for why Oger sent it to him without instructions.

There is a reference to the preface here mentioned in Letter 87.4.

8 lascivos annos morum superas gravitate.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

should be said, has to be carefully considered; all the things which those who understand these matters scrutinize ee And do you tell me there is any quiet in all this?

Can you call this silence, even if the lips are not moving?

2. It is not only that I have not the time, it is also that the sort of work you want me to do is not suited either to my profession or ability.

Not teaching, but lamenting is the duty of the monk I am supposed to be and of the sinner that 1am.

There could not be anything more silly than for an untaught man such as I confess I am, to presume to teach what he knows nothing about.

An untaught man is not competent to teach, a monk does not dare to do so, and a enitent does not want to do so.

It is in order to avoid this that I eee flown far away and dwelt in solitude, and like the Prophet have determined to ' take heed of my ways that I sin not with my tongue', because, according to the same Prophet, 'a glib tongue shall not have its way upon earth'; and according to another, 'the tongue holds the keys of life and death'.

Isaias calls silence ' the work of justice ' and Jeremias says that ' it is good to await the salvation of the Lord in silence'.

Therefore so that I shall not seem entirely to ignore your request I invite and incite you, who by speaking press me to teach what I do not know, and, if not by my teaching, at any rate by the example of my silence, all those who like you wish to grow in virtue, to foster this " work of justice', the mother, the support, the guardian of all the virtues.

3. But what am I doing?

I wonder you do not laugh.

For, while appearing to condemn strongly much speaking, I still continue to pour out words, and in recommending silence to thwart silence by my verbosity.

Our dear Guerric,! concerning whose life of penance you wish to be assured, to judge by his fruit is walking worthily, you may be sure, before God, and bringing forth worthy fruit of penance.

But the little book you ask for I have not by me, for another friend, who was just as anxious to read it as you are, has had it for a long time and not yet returned it. However, so as not to ignore your request completely, I am sending you another booklet which I have lately published, in praise of the Virgin Mother.

As I have not got the original I beg you to return it as soon as you can or, if you are coming here in the near future, to bring it with you.

LETTER 93

TO THE SAME

I HAVE answered your short letters with short letters, glad to have an excuse in your brevity for being brief myself.

For true and, as you rightly say, eternal friendships are not helped by exchanging vain

1 Guerric was made Abbot of Igny in 1138.

TO THE ABBOTS ASSEMBLED AT SOISSONS

and empty words.

However much you try to show your friendship by verses, phrases, and quotations, I feel sure you express less than you feel; and you would not be wrong if you believed the same thing of me.

When your letter was delivered into my hands, you were already in my heart.

While I write this letter you are present to me, as I am sure I shall be present to you when you read it. We wear ourselves out in scribbling to each other, and we exhaust our messengers in sending them backwards and forwards between us.

But is the spirit ever weary with loving?

Let us stop this tiring business of exchanging letters and turn ourselves to what the more we do the easier it-becomes.

Let us give our heads a respite from dictating, our tongues from chattering, our hands from writing, our messengers from running to and fro, and apply ourselves to meditating day and night on the law of the Lord, which is the law of charity.

The more we rest from doing this, the less rested we become; the more we apply ourselves to it, the more repose we derive from it. Let us love and be loved: benefiting ourselves by loving, and others by being loved.t We find rest in those we love, and we provide a resting place in ourselves for those who love us.

To love anyone in God is charity, to try and make ourselves loved for God's sake is the service of charity.

2. But what am I doing?

I promise brevity but cling to prolixity.

If you wish to know about Brother Guerric, or rather because you do, I can assure you that he so runs not as one uncertain of the course, and so fights not as one beating the air.

But he knows that the effect comes from God's mercy, not from man's will, or man's alacrity, so he begs you to pray God for him that he who gives the power to fight and run may also give the power to conquer and achieve the goal.

I greet your abbot through you, for he is dear to me not only on your account, but also because of what I have heard of him.

It will give me great pleasure to meet him at the time and place you have arranged.

I must tell you that for some time now the hand of the Lord has been heavy upon me. I reeled under it and had well nigh fallen, the axe was laid to the barren tree of my body, and I feared it was already being cut down, but on account of your prayers and those of my other friends the Lord has spared me this time, yet only in the hope that I shall show some fruit in future.

LETTER 94

TO THE ABBOTS ASSEMBLED AT SOISSONS

About the year 1130 the Benedictine abbots met at Soissons in the Abbey of St. Médard, a Cluniac house, under the aegis of Geoffrey, the Abbot of St. Médard, who afterwards became Bishop of Chdlons-sur-Marne.

The

' oo6 1 Amemus, et amemur; in altero nobis, in altero nostris consulentes.

Eales translates:

"Let us love and be loved, striving to benefit ourselves in the other, and the other in ourselves

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

meeting was an attempt to establish among the monasteries of Black Monks in the province of Rheims the Cistercian custom of a yearly General Chapter.

Its convocation was probably an outcome of St. Bernard's Apology, and it is to the credit of both parties that the saint was asked to attend.

In the following letter he apologizes for his enforced absence and encourages the abbots with exhortation and advice.

To the Reverend Lord Abbots gathered together in the name of the Lord at Soissons, that they may see, establish, and observe the things which are right, from the servant of their holiness, Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux. am vexed with my affairs because they prevent me from attending

I your meeting.

But it is only my body they hinder, not my spirit, for neither the long distance nor my crowd of cares can impede my spirit and prevent me from praying for you, applauding you, and resting amongst you. I cannot, I say, fail this assembly of holy men, nor can distance of place and absence of body sequester me from this council and congregation of the righteous, especially as it will not be a council at which the traditions of men are obstinately defended and blindly observed,! but where the good, pleasing, and perfect will of God is carefully and humbly sought.

Thither my whole heart carries me, there my devotion holds me, my love impels me, there do I cling with my approbation and remain by sharing in your zeal.?

2. So that those who now applaud you may have no occasion to mock and say that you have met for nothing, endeavour, I beseech you, to sanctify your lives and make your enactments good, for too good they cannot be.

I grant that you might perhaps be too just, that you could be too wise, for it is written,

"Be not over just', and 'Be not more wise than it behoveth to be wise', but it is nowhere said, ' Be not over good', or ' Be not more good than it behoveth ',

No one can. be more good than it behoves him.

When Paul was already good, he was not content, but gladly stretched forth to those things that were before, forgetting those that were behind, striving ever to be better.

3. Let them depart from me and from you who say, ' We do not wish to be better than our fathers', proclaiming themselves sons of lax and tepid fathers whose memory is accursed because they have eaten bitter grapes and the tecth of their children have been set on edge.

If they glory in the memory of good and holy fathers, then let them at least imitate their sanctity while maintaining as a law their dispensations and indulgences.

Although the holy Elias said:

'I ? A reference to the abuses prevalent in the houses of the Black Monks which the saint castigated in his Apology.

? Mic toto desiderio feror, dervotione imnioror, condelector amore, inhwro consensu, emulatione persisto.

TO HENRY

I, KING OF ENGLAND

IqI am not better than my fathers', he did not say that he had no desire to be better. Jacob saw angels ascending and descending the ladder, but he did not see any standing still or sitting down. A fragile hanging ladder is no place for standing still nor, in the uncertain condition of this mortal life, can anyone remain fixed in one position.

We have not here an abiding city nor do we yet possess it, but we are still secking the one that isto come.

Either you must go up or you must come down, you inevitably fall if you try to stand still.

It is certain that the man who does not try to be better is not even good; when you stop trying to be better, then you cease to be good.

3. Let them also depart from me and from you who call good evil and evil good. What good thing do they call good who deem even the pursuit of righteousness an evil?

Once our Lord scandalized the Pharisees by one thing which he said. Now it is not the saying even of one thing, but silence which scandalizes these new Pharisees.

You can be quite sure of this: they are merely seeking for an opportunity to attack you.

Let them be; they are blind, leaders of the blind.

Consider the salvation of the little children and do not concern yourselves with the grumbles of the spiteful.

It is not your concern to cure the scandal of those who will not be cured unless you too become sick.

But neither must you wait to see if your enactments are pleasing in every particular to everyone of your own monks, otherwise you will decide nothing, or next to nothing.

You must consider what is good for them, not what they want.

You will do better to draw the reluctant to God, than to leave them to the desires of their hearts.

I commend myself to your holy prayers.

LETTER 95

TO HENRY I, KING OF ENGLAND

This letter refers to the foundation of Rievaulx, which took place on March sth, 1132.

Rievaulx was the first daughter of Clairvaux in these islands but not the first Cistercian house, for Waverley dates from the year 1129.

The first abbot was William, the scribe of St. Bernard's letter to Robert of Chdtillon and an Englishman, but the chief glory of Rievaulx is St. Ailred, the third abbot.

The founder was Walter Espec, who in 1138 rallied the barons and yeomen of Yorkshire and drove back David, King of Scotland, at the battle of the Standard.

To Henry, the illustrious King of England, that in his earthly kingdom he may faithfully serve and humbly obey the King of heaven, from _ Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

Le your land there is an outpost of my Lord and your Lord, an outpost which he has preferred to die for than to lose.

I have proposed to occupy it and I am sending men from my army who will, if it is not

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

displeasing to you, claim it, recover it, and restore it with a strong hand.

For this purpose I have sent ahead these men who now stand before you to reconnoitre.

They will investigate the situation carefully and report back to me faithfully.

Help them as messengers of your Lord and in their persons fulfil your duties as a vassal of their Lord.

And may he for his honour, the salvation of your soul, and the health and peace of your kingdom, bring you safe and happy to a good and peaceful end.

LETTER 96

TO HENRY DE BLOIS, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER

Henry de Blois was a nephew of Henry I, King of England, and a brother of King Stephen.

While a monk of Cluny and a young man he was appointed Abbot of Glastonbury in the year 1126.

Three years after this he became Bishop of Winchester, while still retaining office as Abbot of Glastonbury.

He remained Bishop of Winchester until his death in 1171, and during the whole of this time he was never in residence at his abbey.

Nevertheless he took a great interest in Glastonbury and completely restored its material prosperity as well as effecting certain reforms in the observance of the monks.

As Bishop of Winchester he concerned himself with high affairs of state and proved an upright and clearsighted statesman, as well as an administrator of genius.

He was immensely rich, magnificent in every sense of the word, and highly ambitious; he even conceived the extraordinary idea of raising

Winchester to a metropolitan see.

In many ways Henry de Blois is one of the most attractive personalities of his time, but for all his colourful and strong character he stood at the opposite extreme to the school of reform which drew its inspiration from Clairvaux, and it was not long before he came into conflict with St. Bernard.

To the illustrious Lord, Henry, by the grace of God Bishop of Winchester, greetings in the Lord from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

AM overjoyed to hear from many persons that my unworthy self is I privileged with more than a small share of your Lordship's favour.

Although undeserving I am not ungrateful, and I return the compliment of your Lordship's favour, not indeed as you deserve, but nevertheless as Iam able.

I have no misgivings that you may scorn the little that I am able to offer in return, since you have so graciously forestalled it and so kindly deserved it.

I forbear from writing more until I know from your reply, if you deem it fitting to send one, how you have received these few words.

You can easily commit your answer either by word of mouth or in writing to Abbot Oger? who brings

1 For an account of Henry de Blois see The Monastic Order in England by David Knowles,

Vol. I, pp. 281-297.

* See Letters 90-93.

TO DUKE CONRAD

this letter, and whom 1 recommend to your Excellency as a man worthy of your esteem and confidence, commendable for his honesty, learning, and piety.

LETTER 97

TO DUKE CONRAD

This was Conrad, Duke of Zeringen.

Mabillon dates this letter 1132 and quotes Samuel Guichen to the effect that Conrad was at this time contemplating hostilities against Amadeus I, Count of Geneva.

This letter is just one example of St. Bernard's beneficent influence in curbing the sultry passions of the medieval barons.

AN power comes from him to whom the Prophet says:

' Thine, Lord, the power, of all princes art thou the overlord'.

So it seems to me fitting, illustrious Prince, that I should write and admonish your Excellency to bow down before the terrible One who strikes with terror the hearts of princes.

The Prince of Geneva, as I have heard from his own mouth, has offered himself to justice and is ready to make satisfaction to you in all that you have against him.

So if, on the top of this, you set out to invade his territory, destroy churches, burn down homesteads, and shed human blood, there can be no doubt at all that you will seriously anger him, who is ' father to the orphan and gives the widow redress'.

If he is angry it would advantage you nothing to fight no matter how great your military strength.

It makes no difference to the omnipotent Lord whether armies are great or small, he gives victory where he pleases. When he wished he gave one man power to put thousands to flight, and two men ten thousand.

2. A poor man myself Iam stirred by the cries of poor men to write to you knowing that it would be more honourable for you to yield to the humble than to submit to the enemy.

Not that I believe your enemy to be stronger than you are, but I know the omnipotent God to be more powerful than either of you, and that he resists the proud and gives his grace to the humble.

I would have had an audience with you on this matter, if it had been possible, but now I send in my place these brethren of mine in the hope that by their entreaties united with mine they may obtain from your Highness a complete treaty if possible, or at any rate an armistice until we can explore the ground for a firm peace to your honour, the good of your country and in accordance with the will of God.

Otherwise, if you will neither receive the satisfaction offered you nor listen to my entreaties, or rather, if you will not heed the voice of God warning you through me for the good of your soul, then may he be your judge.

I know full well that two armies can hardly close in combat without terrible slaughter on both sides, which is what I fear so much.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 98

TO AN UNKNOWN PERSON, ON THE MACHABEES

utx, Abbot of Epernay, had already written to me about the very Tcuaces which you have asked me through Brother Hescelin.

I did not answer him at once as I have been hoping to find something bearing on the subject in the Fathers, which I would rather have sent him than anything new of my own.

But as it has not been easy to find anything I am sending you both, for the time being, what I think on the question, on the understanding that if any of you should think of some better solution, or should hear or read of one, you will not fail to pass it on to me.

Your question is why the Machabees, alone of all the righteous of the Old Law, have been accorded by the Fathers the unique privilege of an annual feast and veneration equal to our own martyrs.

To say that they were deemed worthy of the same veneration because they showed the same virtue in martyrdom is perhaps to give the reason why they should be so honoured, but not why they alone should be.

There are others among the ancients of the Old Law who are known to have laid down their lives with just as much zeal for religion as the Machabees who yet are not commemorated with a like festival.

And if it is said that there is no reason why the death of the other ancients should be commemorated because the time at which they died deprived them of the honour which their courage deserved, why is not the same reason valid for the Machabees if they too, because of the time at which they laid down their lives, did not immediately enter heaven but descended into the darkness of Limbo? For the first fruits of them that sleep had not then come, he who was to open the gates of heaven, the Lamb of the tribe of Juda, "he that openeth and no man shutteth', he at whose entry into his kingdom the heavenly powers sing: "Swing back the doors, captains of the guard; swing back, immortal gates, to let the King enter in triumph'.

So if it seems unfitting to commemorate with joy the passing of those whose passage was not joyful, why is it fitting to celebrate with joy the passing of the Machabees?

2. Or should one say that although both the Machabees and the other ancients had with our martyrs the same cause of righteousness for their death, they had not the same kind of martyrdom as ours?

All the martyrs, both of the Old and the New Law, laid down their lives for righteousness, but the difference is that the martyrs of the New Law laid down their lives because they were righteous, while those of the Old Law did so because they denounced those who were not.

The former died because they were righteous, the latter because they taught that those who were not would perish. To make the whole difference clear in a few words, I would say that righteousness itself earned for our martyrs their martyrdom and zeal for righteousness

TO AN UNKNOWN PERSON

earned it for the others.

But the Machabees, alone of all the ancients, had in common with our martyrs not only the same cause for their martyrdom, but also the same kind of martyrdom, and so they have attained in the Church equal honour with our martyrs.

Just as our martyrs, they too were forced to pour out libations to strange gods, to forsake the laws of their country or rather of their God, and they died because they refused to do so.

3. Not so did Isaias die, not so did Zacharias or even the great John the Baptist die, of whom the first, it is said, was cloven asunder, the second killed between the altar and the temple, and the third beheaded in prison.

If you ask at whose hands these men met their death, I say at the hands of the wicked and irreligious.

If you ask for what reason they were killed, I reply for the sake of righteousness and religion, but more because they upheld it than because they professed it. They upheld the truth against those who hated it and the truth earned them hatred, and hatred death.

Although they were wicked and irreligious men who killed them, yet they were more protecting themselves from religion than attacking religion itself, they were not so much persecuting righteousness as defending their own wickedness.

There is all the difference between attacking another's goods and defending one's own, between rejecting the truth and persecuting the truth, between envying believers and being enraged by their denunciations, between closing the mouth which professes the truth and being unable to endure the taunts of those who denounce.

'Herod sent and laid hold of John', but why? Because he preached Christ, because he was a good and just man?

No, on the contrary Herod respected him for this and * having heard him, did many things ', but rather because John rebuked him ' on account of Herodias, the wife of his brother Philip'.

That was the reason why John was bound and beheaded.

Certainly he suffered for the sake of truth, but only because he was zealous for it; he was not forced to deny it. Hence the passion of this great martyr is celebrated with less festivity than the passion of lesser men.

4. If the Machabees had suffered in such a manner and for such a reason, there would not be any mention of them at all. But we rightly accord them a veneration equal to that of our own martyrs because a not dissimilar confession has rendered them similar.

The fact that they did not suffer expressly for Christ need not worry us because it does not make any difference whether anyone suffers under the Law for the observances of the Law or under grace for the commands of the Gospel.

Both equally suffer for truth and therefore for Christ who said:

'Iamthetruth'.

It is the nature of their martyrdom - rather than their valour which has earned for the Machabees their unique status; the other fathers who suffered under the Old Law with equal valour are not accorded the same veneration by the Church.

I suppose that the reason for this is that it seems unfitting to

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

commemorate witha festival the death of those who, although they died gallantly, yet nevertheless did so before the death of Christ, especially as, before the saving Passion of Christ, no festal joy but the darkness of the grave received the dead.

Without doubt the Church has judged that the Machabees should be excepted because what the time of their death deprived them of, the nature of their martyrdom has bestowed upon them.

5. Yet we commemorate with a solemn festival not only the Machabees but also those who chanced to die before the death of him who was Life manifested in the flesh, even if they died in his life time, like Simeon and John the Baptist; or for him like the Innocents whom, although they too went down to Limbo, we celebrate with a solemn rite, but for a different reason.

In the case of the Innocents it would be unjust to deny all present fame to the innocence which died for justice.

And John too, who knew that from his day the Kingdom of Heaven suffered violence and cried out: ' Do penance, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand', and joyfully embraced death because he knew that Life was following him close at hand.

He took pains to make sure of this when he was near to death for he asked: 'Lord, art thou he who is to come or do we await another?'

And he deserved to be reassured by the Lord who, after recounting his miracles, said to him:

'Blessed is he who is not scandalized by me'.

By these words the Lord signified that he was to die and that his death would be such as might prove a scandal to the Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles.

When he heard this, John, the friend of the Bridegroom, joyfully preceded his master to the grave where he could no longer doubt that he would soon come, and by dying so joyfully deserved that his death should be commemorated with joy by the Church.

And the old man Simeon, as full of virtues as he was of years, carrying Life in his hands when death was close to him, said: 'Now thou dost dismiss thy servant, O Lord, according to thy word in peace, because my eyes have seen thy salvation'; as if to say, 'I can confidently go down into prison because I believe that my redemption is close at hand'.

And so this man too who died with such joyful confidence and such confident joy is rightly commemorated with joy by the Church.

6. But what reason can there be for considering a death joyful which was not accompanied with any festal joy, or how could anyone derive joy from the knowledge that he was about to die if he knew that he would go down into darkness with no certainty that he would be consoled by a speedy release?

One of the saints of the Old Law when he was told to put his house in order because he was going to die, turned his face to the wall and wept bitterly and implored some deferment of the hated death.

When at last the dreaded time had come he said, miserably lamenting it: 'I must go down to the gates of the world beneath, in the noontide of my years'; and a little later:

TO AN UNKNOWN PERSON

"No more shall I lift my eyes to the Lord God in this land of the living, nor shall I see again the faces of men and quiet homes'.

And another says: 'Ah, if the grave were only a place of shelter, where thou wouldst hide me away until thy anger was spent, with a time appointed when thou wouldst bethink thyself of me again'.

And Israel said to his sons: 'Thou wouldst send down my grey hairs sorrowing to the grave'.

What joy or occasion for festive celebration is there in deaths such as these?

7. On the other hand, our own martyrs desire to die and be with Christ, for they know that where the body is there too will be gathered together the eagles.

Soon shall the righteous keep holiday there and rejoice at the sight of him, glad and content. There, most loving

Jesu, there shall thy countenance fill the holy man with joy as soon as he is taken out of this wicked world.

There one voice shall cry with everlasting jubilee, one voice of joy and salvation in the dwellings of the just: 'Safe, like a bird rescued from the fowler's snare; the snare is broken now, and we are safe'.

How could those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death sing this song, while there is no one to redeem them and none to save them; when the day star from on high, Christ the firstfruits of them that slept, had not yet visited them?

Rightly therefore does the Church, who knows how to rejoice with the joyful and weep with the sorrowful, distinguish because of the time they died between those whom she judges equal in valour, believing that the descent into Limbo should not be honoured with the same veneration as the passage into life.

8. And so while the cause makes the martyrdom, yet the time and nature of it determine a distinction.

Time separates the Machabees from the new martyrs and unites them with the old, but the nature of their death has separated them from the old, and united them with the new.

And, for the aforesaid reasons, these differences are observed by the Church.

But the Prophet tells us what is common to all the martyrs in the sight of God when he says: "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints', and he explains why their death is said to be precious when he tells us: 'When he shall give sleep to his beloved: behold the inheritance of the Lord are children; the reward, the fruit of the womb'.

But we must not think that only the martyrs are beloved of God, for we must remember what was said of Lazarus:

'Lazarus our friend sleeps'.

And then it is said:

'Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord', meaning that not only are they blessed who die for the Lord like martyrs, but also they who die in the Lord like confessors.

There are then two things which seem 'to me to render a death precious; the life which preceded it, and the cause of the death, and more the cause than the life.

But most precious of all is that death which is recommended both by the cause of it and the life which preceded it.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 99

TO A CERTAIN MONK

HE messenger by whom you say you have been disturbed was | Pes by Brother William, not in his interests, but in yours.

He is a man who by the grace of God habitually acts bravely, making quite sure that the saying "A double minded man is inconstant in all his ways' does not apply to himself.

Because he walks before God simply, and therefore confidently, he is not subject to that curse which says:

' Woe to the sinner that will go two ways about it to enter the land of his desire'.

But I had heard that you had been involved in some quarrel and, to the grave scandal of your abbot and brethren, had left your monastery and gone to live in I don't know what sort of inaccessible place.

I was much worried by this rumour and anxiously asked myself how I could help you and could think of nothing better than to ask you to visit me, so that I might first reassure myself by seeing you and speedily help you while we were together.

But by my letter to you and yours to me we have both repelled any shadow of suspicion we might have had of each other and can now set our minds at rest on the matter.

The sincerity of our affection has been proved by this false rumour, and I think it has been not unfruitfully renewed by our mutual anxiety for each other.

I would now gladly enjoy this fruit if you are at liberty to visit me; but if you are not, it were better for me to be content with my own sterility than to enjoy the fruit of your company at inconvenience to yourself.

LETTER 100

TO A CERTAIN BISHOP

ip I had known you to be less in earnest than you are in what you have undertaken, then I should have had to exhort and conjure you.

But now, as your devotion has run ahead of my intention, it remains only for me to render thanks unto God and to pray that he may give you the strength to accomplish what he has given you the grace to desire.

Yet I will not hide my joy from you.

You cannot guess how your intention has filled my heart with gladness.

' My soul will be delighted with good things' when I see you tireless in good and salutary works. I rejoice in your good intentions, not because I am seeking gifts, but because I look for the fruit in you; I gladly accept your favours because they benefit you, otherwise I would be devoid of that charity which " seeketh not itsown'.

Indeed you are benefiting yourself even more than me for 'it is more blessed to give than to receive .

Your generosity highly becomes a bishop, it graces your priesthood, it is a precious jewel in your crown, and it is a credit to your high position.

If a man is prevented from being poor because

TO A CERTAIN CHANCELLOR

of the position he holds, then let him prove himself a lover of poverty by a actions.

" Blessed are the poor', but ' poor in spirit', not in goods.

LETTER tot

TO A CERTAIN CHANCELLOR

To the noble and honourable S., Chancellor, health in the Lord, from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

@? has given you many good things in this life, but it is much to be feared that, unless you derive from your worldly and temporal goods some profit for your soul, you will lose the eternal joys of heaven for the sake of the passing and deceitful pleasures of time.

In all simplicity, I would therefore suggest that some .

. .! of our brothers wish to divide and build an abbey.

If you wish to keep them by building for them a place on your property, as you can easily do, I beg you to notify me by the bearer of this letter.

Surely your great sickness, of which I have heard, is a warning from God that you should succour your soul endangered among the false pleasures of the world, by this or some other good work.

LETTER 102

TO CERTAIN RELIGIOUS

AM returning Brother Lambert to you.

When he arrived here he I was rather unsettled in certain respects, but your prayers have restored calm to him and he is no longer troubled by his former scruples.

I have carefully enquired into the cause of his coming here and also the reason and nature of his leaving you.

His intentions seem to have been above reproach, but there is certainly no excuse for his leaving you in the way he did, namely without permission.

And so having scolded him for this as he deserved, I am returning him to you suitably chastened and now quite composed.

When he comes back I beg you, dearest brothers, to be lenient in the matter of his presumption, for he is quite simple about it and without any malice whatsoever.

He came straight here without turning to right or left, because he knew that all of us here are your loyal friends and faithful followers.

As spiritual men, I beg you to receive him in the spirit of gentleness, confirming the charity which is in him and forgiving, on account of his good intentions, his mistaken departure.

I am sure that, by the _ mercy of him who is all-powerful, any annoyance you may have felt at his irregular exit will soon vanish when you see the change in him for the better.

1MS. here defective.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 103

TO A CERTAIN ABBOT

This letter is an excellent commentary on the 28th chapter of St. Benedict's Holy Rule. pout that troubled and troublesome brother who has no respect for his superiors, my advice to you is brief but trustworthy.

It is the devil's endeavour to go around the house of God seeking whom he may devour, and it is your duty to keep a sharp look-out so that he does not find a way in. The more he tries to separate a weak lamb from the rest of the flock, so that he can carry him off all the easier for there being no one to rescue him, the more it behoves you to withstand him with all your might, so that he can never snatch a lamb from your hands and boast: 'I have prevailed against him'.

Do all that charity requires of you to save the brother, spare neither kindness, wholesome advice, rebukes in private, exhortations in public, and if necessary sharp words and sharp floggings, but above all, what is usually more efficacious than anything in these cases, do you and the brethren pray for him.

2. If you have tried all this and availed nothing, then you must have recourse to the advice of the Apostle and * put away the evil one'.

The evil one must be put away lest he lead others into evil.

A bad tree can only give bad fruit.

So I say " put him away', but not in the way he would want.

That is to say do not let him go with your licence, for if you do he will deceive himself into thinking that he can legitimately live contrary to his vows outside his monastery, beyond all reach of discipline, as his own master and according to his own sweet will.

But turn him out as a diseased sheep is turned out of the flock, as a gangrenous limb is cut off from the body.

Let him understand clearly that from henceforth you will regard him as 'a heathen and a publican'.

Do not have any fear that by thus preserving the peace of all at the cost of one,! you will be acting contrary to charity.

The malice of one brother can easily disturb the unity of the whole.

Let those words of Solomon comfort you: 'No man can set him straight at whom God looks askance', and those of our Saviour:

' Every plant which my heavenly Father hath not planted, shall be rooted up', and what the blessed John has said about schismatics:

' They went out from us because they were not of us', and again the words of the Apostle: 'If the unbeliever depart, let him depart'.

The godless ought not to be left in the domain of the just, else the just will stretch out their hands to wickedness.

Better that one should perish than the unity of all.

. is syns Ne timeas esse contra caritatem si unius scandalium multorum recompensaveris pace.

TO THE BROTHER OF WILLIAM, A MONK OF CLAIRVAUX ISI

LETTER 104

TO THE BROTHER OF WILLIAM, A MONK OF CLAIRVAUX

The William mentioned in this letter is said to be the same as the William mentioned in Letter 99. ees I have not met you and although, as regards the body, you live a long way from me, yet you are a friend, and my friendship for you renders you present and well known to me.

This friendship has been given you without your knowledge: a gift not of flesh and blood, but of the spirit of God which has united your brother

William to me in the bonds of spiritual love and everlasting friendship, and you through him to me, if you think it worth your while.

Be wise and do not spurn the friendship of those whom very Truth calls blessed and proclaims the kings of heaven.

We do not grudge you this blessedness, for we lose nothing by sharing it with you.

Our kingdom would not be restricted if you were also king. Why should we grudge you a share in a kingdom which the multitude of those who share takes nothing from the share which each one enjoys?

I wish you to be a friend of the poor, but I would rather you were poor yourself.

The former is the stage of the proficient, the latter of the perfect. By friendship with the poor we consort with kings, but by love of poverty we become kings ourselves.

The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to the poor, and kings have the power to make their friends happy when they wish.

"Make friends of the mammon of iniquity, that when you shall fail, they may receive you into everlasting dwellings.'

You see how great is the dignity of holy poverty.

It does not seek patronage for itself, but it is able to extend it to those who need it.1 What sort of thing is this that, without the help of angels or men, simply by trusting in divine grace, is able to penetrate of itself to the vision of glory, to reach the summits of existence, to scale the very heights of all splendour?

2. Now I want you to consider without any self-deception how material things are keeping you from all this.

Alas, it is but smoke, here now and then gone, which blocks your way to everlasting joy, which clouds the brightness of the light eternal, which cheats you of true knowledge, which robs you of great nobility! Why do you prefer to such glory the mere grass which is here to-day and on the fire to-morrow, the flesh and all its false glamour?

For "the flesh is but grass, and the glory of it but grass in flower'.

If you are wise, if you have any heart, if your eyes are at all open to the light, cease

1 An interpretation of this rather difficult passage, not uncommon among the Fathers.

St.

Bernard probably had in mind the twenty-first book and fourteenth chapter of St. Gregory's

Moralia where we are told that we should consider our alms as gifts to patrons who will receive us into their eternal dwellings.

1§2

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trying to chase what, when you do attain, is nothing but tribulation.

Blessed is the man who does not go after such things, for they are only a burden; they soil the man who sets his heart upon them, and in their passing they cause untold suffering.

Is it not better honourably to spurn them than sorrowfully to lose them?

Is it not better to give them up for the love of Christ than to lose them in death?

Death is a robber in ambush from whose clutches you cannot save either yourself or your goods. Nor can you protect yourself against him, for he comes as a thief in the night. You have brought nothing into the world and assuredly you will take nothing out.

You sleep your ap and lo! in the morning your hands are empty.

But you know a this.

I must not waste time in teaching you what you know already, I will do better to pray that you may be granted the grace to act according to the knowledge that has already been given you.

LETTER 105

TO MASTER WALTER OF CHAUMONT

AM filled with sadness for you, my dear Walter, when I think of the I flower of your youth, the brightness of your intelligence, the ornaments of your knowledge and scholarship and, what more becomes a Christian than all these, your noble bearing, all being wasted in futile studies and the pursuit of what is merely passing, when they would be so much better used in the service of Christ.

God forbid that a sudden death should snatch them from you, that all should suddenly wither like grass in the fury of a burning wind, fall from you like leaves from autumn trees.

What fruit will you have then of all your labours upon earth?

What return will you be able to make to God for all that he has given you? What will you have to show for all the talents he has entrusted to you? What will happen to you, if with empty hands you stand before him who, although he willingly gave you all your gifts, will nevertheless exact a strict account of how you have used them?

He will come, he will soon come, who will demand back with increase what was his own.

He will take away all those gifts which have earned you such spectacular, but such treacherous, applause in your own country.

Noble birth, a lithe body, a comely appearance, a distinguished bearing, are great acquisitions, but the credit of them belongs to him who gave them.

You may use them for your own advantage, but there is one who will enquire into it and judge if you do.

2. Let us suppose that you may, for the time being, claim all the credit for yourself, that you may glory in your renown and the title you have of master, and win for yourself a great name on earth.

What will happen to all this when you are dead? What will be left of it but the memory, and even this only upon earth, for it is written:

TO MASTER WALTER OF CHAUMONT

1$3 'There they sleep on, empty handed, the warriors in their pride'?

And if this is to be the end of all your labours, will you pardon me for asking, what more have you than the beasts of the field? When your charger is dead, what more can be said of it than that it was a good beast?

Ask yourself how you will answer at that terrible judgement for having received your soul, and such a soul, in vain, if you have paid no more attention to your immortal and rational spirit than any brute beast whose soul ceases to exist the moment it ceases to animate its body.

Wherein, think you, lies your worth, you who are made in the image of your creator, if you care not for this, your sole title to the great dignity you enjoy as a man?

Because you do not understand this, because you concern yourself with nothing spiritual or eternal but, like the brute beasts whose soul dies with their body, are content only with passing and material things, because you are blind to the counsel of the Gospel: ' Labour not for the bread that perisheth but that which endureth for life everlasting', you are become 'like the brute beasts and not better than they'.

It is written that only he shall go up the mountain of God who "has not received his soul in vain ', and not even he shall do so unless he be also ' guiltless in act and clean of heart'.

It is for you to decide whether you can dare say this of yourself.

If you cannot, then consider that reward will be meted out to wickedness, if mere unfruitfulness incurs damnation.

Certainly thorns and briars will not be spared when the axe is laid to the unfruitful tree, stinging plants will not escape when the unfruitful tree is threatened.

Woe therefore, and woe again to him of whom it can be said:

' He should have borne grapes, but he bore wild grapes instead '.

3. I know that you can think all this out clearly and fully without my prompting you, but that the love you have for your mother prevents you from following your convictions by completely abandoning what in your heart you despise.

What can I say about this? You live with your mother and were I to tell you to leave her it would seem inhuman.

But on the other hand it is not for her good that she should be the cause of your perdition.

Perhaps you can serve both the world and Christ?

But no man can serve two masters.

Your mother wishes what will impede your salvation and so impede hers as well.

Choose which you prefer: you can either serve her wishes or both her salvation and yours.

If you truly love her, it is for her good that you should leave her.

If you leave Christ in order to be with your mother, on your account she too will perish.

She who gave you birth would be ill paid if she were to perish on your account.

But how could she not perish who has destroyed the son to whom she gave birth?

I have spoken in this way in consideration to the flesh and in deference to natural affection.

But it is a true saying, worthy of all acceptance, that although it is wicked to disregard

THB LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

one's mother, yet to do so for Christ's sake is most righteous, for he > ie '6 who said, ' Honour thy father and mother

', also said, '

He who loves .

> father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me'.!

LETTER 106

TO ROMANUS, A SUBDEACON OF THE CURIA AT ROME

To his dear friend Romanus, all that he could wish for a friend, from Bernard Abbot of Clairvaux. ou did well, my dear friend, to renew by your letter the pleasant

Vis I have of you and excuse the tiresome delay.

Forgetfulness of you can never steal you from the hearts of those that miss you but, I must confess, I had begun to think you had almost forgotten about yourself.

Have done with delay and do at once what you say in your letter you intend to do!

Prove by what you do the sincerity of what you write. Why delay to give birth to the spirit of salvation which you have conceived already?

Nothing is more certain for mortals than death, nothing more uncertain than the hour of death: like a thief in the night it will come.

Woe to them that are with child in that hour! If it should come upon and forestall that lifegiving birth, alas, it will undermine the house and destroy the holy seed:

' For when they shall say peace and security; then shall sudden destruction come upon them, as the pains upon her that is with child'.

I do not wish you to escape death, but I do wish that at any rate you should have no cause to fear it.

The righteous man, although he does not guard against death, yet he does not fear it.2

' Though he should die before his time, rest shall be his.'

He dies certainly, but his death is safe, for as he departs this life he enters a better one.

It is a good death which dies to sin that it may live to righteousness.

And this death to sin must come first if that final death is to be safe.

While you are still in this life, lay up treasure which will last for ever in the next.

Die to the world while you are in the body that after the death of the body you may live for ever in God.

What matter if death does rend your bodily raiment if it straightway clothes you in joy? How

"blessed are the dead, who die in the Lord', they shall hear the Spirit say 'from henceforth now you may rest from your labours'!

And not only shall they rest from their labours, they shall also experience a great joy from the newness of life which will be theirs, and the safety that will last for ever.

The death of the righteous is good because of its rest, better because of its new life, and best of all because of its safety. On the other hand, 'the death of the wicked is very evil'.

It is very evil because for them loss of the world is grievous, separation from the body worse, and the twofold suffering of worm and 1 St. Jerome, Ep. 14.

3 Justus quippe mortem, etsi non cavet, tamen non pavet.

TO HENRY MURDAC

fire worst of all. Come then, make haste, go forth and depart, die the death of the righteous that your end may be the same as theirs.

How precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints!

Fly, limplore you, and linger no more where sinners walk. How can you live where you would be afraid to die?

And, you can be sure, I shall be ready, according to the words of the Prophet, ' to bring out bread ' to you in flight.

LETTER 107

TO HENRY MURDAC

For Henry Murdac, see Letter 174, the introductory note to Letter 173, and the note on ' The Dispute over the Election of the Archbishop of York', pp.

259-61.

To his dear friend Henry Murdac, health, and not only in this life, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux. we wonder if you are tossed about between prosperity and adversity since you have not yet gained a foothold on the rock.

But if you have sworn and are determined to keep the just commandments of the Lord, neither prosperity nor adversity can sever you from the love of Christ.

Oh if you only knew, if only I could explain to you!

'Such things as were never known from the beginning, as ear never heard, eye never saw, save at thy command, thou, O God, hast made ready for all that await thy aid.'

I hear, brother, that you are reading the Prophets; think you that you understand what you read?

If you do, you will perceive that it is to Christ which they refer.

Andif you would grasp him, you will do so sooner by following him than by reading of him. Why seek the Word amidst written words, when in the flesh he stands before your eyes? He has long since left his hiding place in the Prophets and appeared unto the Fishermen.

Like a bridegroom from his bridal bed he has leapt from the shady coverts of the mountain sides and run into the open pastures of the Gospels.

Let him who has ears to hear, hear him crying out in the Temple: ' Whosoever thirsts, let him come to me and drink', and: 'Come unto me, all ye who labour and are burdened, and I will refresh you'.

Are you afraid that you will break down where Truth himself has promised to refresh you?

Certainly if the * dark waters from the clouds of the air' please you so much, you will be more than delighted with the clear water that springs from the fountains of the Saviour.

2. If you could but once taste for a moment the ' full ears of corn on which Jerusalem feasts" how gladly would you Jeave the dry husks for Jewish hacks to gnaw!

If I could but have you as my fellow in the school of piety of which Jesus is the master!

If only I might submit the vessel of your heart when it has been purified to the unction which

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

teaches all things! How gladly would I share with you the warm loaves which, still piping hot, fresh, as it were, from the oven, Christ of his heavenly bounty so often breaks with his poor! Would that when God sweetly deigns to shed on his poor servant a drop of that heavenly dew which he keeps for his chosen, I might presently pour it forth upon you and in turn receive from you what you feel!

Believe me who have experience, you will find much more labouring amongst the woods than you ever will amongst books.

Woods and stones will teach you what you can never hear from any master.

Do you imagine you cannot suck honey from the rocks and oil from the hardest stone; that the mountains do not drop sweetness and the hills flow with milk and honey; that the valleys are not filled with corn?

So many things occur to me which I could say to you that I can hardly restrain myself.

But as it is for prayers and not a sermon that you have asked me, I will pray God that with his laws and his commandments he may open your heart.

Farewell.

P.S.

Ivo and William join me in saying the same.

What more can I add to what I have said? You know very well that I wish to see you and the reason why; but how much I wish to see you, that you could never guess, nor I tell you.

I pray God that he will give you the grace to follow me where you should have led the way. I believe you to be so great a master in humility that you would not object, although a master, to following your disciples.

LETTER 108

TO THOMAS, PROVOST OF BEVERLEY

To Thomas, Provost of Beverley, and a youth of great promise, that he may learn by the example of his namesake, the Apostle, from Bernard, the servant of the Poor of Christ at Clairvaux. ifs who knows you has suggested to me, whom you do not know, that I should write to you; and charity prompts me to do so.

He has told me all he wished of what he knew about you, and charity, which believes all things, could not hear and remain idle.

Not idle, I say, as regards myself, because as soon as I had heard what Ivo had to say of you, I was compelled by charity to write to you, to exhort you, to pray for you.

Whether with any effect or not rests with you.

I confess that what I have heard of you from those who know you, pleases me.

I do not mean your noble lineage, your courtly bearing, your handsome figure, your riches, or your exalted rank.

All these and the like are mortal things and will fade like the flowers of the field.

I refer to your strong character, your noble demeanour, and 1 Tdipsum ipsi Willelmus et Ivo.

Eales translates:

'Let William and Ivo too bave share in this my prayer'.

Mabillon believes that Ivo is the brother of William to whom Letter 104 is addressed.

TO THOMAS, PROVOST OF BEVERLEY

especially to that love of holy poverty which, I am told, you have lately conceived amidst your riches.

And so while warmly congratulating you, I have conceived great hopes for you, which I trust will not be disappointed.

May this my joy speedily reach even to the angels in heaven who are prepared to make great joy over you, as they are over the conversion and repentance of all sinners.

If only it were to fall to my lot to husband the flower of your youth, to gather such an example of good dispositions; if only I were permitted to save it intact for God, to offer it unblemished, a sweet fragrance acceptable to the Lord.

2. Perhaps your conscience will answer to this that I have spoken too late, that your youth has already been soiled with too many sins for it to be possible to preserve it unblemished.

This does not dismay me. A sinner myself, I feel no repugnance towards a sinner.

I do not spurn the diseased, since Iam aware that I too am diseased.

Even if you believe me to be whole, I do not refuse ' to become weak to a weak man, that I may gain the weak'; I gladly listen to Paul in this matter, when he says:

" You who are spiritual, instruct such an one in the spirit of meekness, considering thyself lest thou also be tempted '.

The gravity of the sickness is nothing to me when I consider the skill of the Physician, and also his pity which is so well known to me in my own grievous ills. No matter how great your sins may be, how foul may be your conscience, even though you may be conscious that your youth is polluted with dreadful atrocities, even though grown old in years ill spent "you have become rotten like a beast on a dung heap', yet you shall be cleansed and become whiter than snow, and your youth shall be restored as the eagle's plumage. I know who it is that says: 'Where sin abounded grace did more abound'.

The good Physician heals all mortal ills, and contents all our desires for good.

3. A good conscience is a mine of wealth.

And in truth what greater riches can there be, what thing more sweet than a good conscience?

What is there on earth to give such peace and such serenity?

A good conscience fears no material loss, no invective can touch it, and no physical pain can hurt it; death itself cannot bring it low, but only lift it up.

What, I ask, amongst the goods of the earth is there to compare with such happiness as this? What thing like this can the world, for all its blandishments, offer to its lovers?

What thing like this can the world, for all its lies, hold out to fools?

Vast estates, a prelate's robes, the sceptre of a king; all this, yes.

But not to mention all the hazards without which such things cannot be won or held, is it not true to say that at the first touch of death all is lost?

It is written: 'There they sleep on, empty handed, the rich men in their pride'.

But the wealth of a good conscience lives again, it does not wither away in travail, it does not pass away in death, it flowers again.

It gives joy to the living, it consoles the dying, it

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

refreshes the dead.

But why dwell in words upon the truth of what I am ready to prove by deeds.

It is for you to prove me a liar or yourself a rich man.

Only come and see.

With what joyous steps will I not run out ' with bread to meet the fleeing man', with what glad embraces shall I not receive my youngest son.

" Quickly shall the first robe be brought forth for you and a ring put on your finger, and I shall say: This my son was dead but he lives again, was lost and is found.'

LETTER 109

TO THE SAME

This Thomas had promised himself to Clairvaux.t But as he showed great reluctance to fulfil his promise, St. Bernard wrote the following letter to encourage him.

But the warning and encouragement of the saint fell on deaf ears, for Thomas died suddenly, his promise still unfulfilled.

To Thomas, his dear son, from Bernard as to a son.

HAT need of words? A fervent spirit and eager heart cannot be expressed by the tongue alone.

I need your presence also to tell me of your good will.

If you were present you could both explain yourself and know me better.

Even now we are tied to each other by a mutual debt, I by a debt of faithful care for you and you by the debt of humble obedience to me.

I wish you to apply to yourself and to prove in me that saying of the Only-Begotten:

' The works which the Father has given me to perfect, they give testimony of me'.

So in truth, even so the Spirit of the Son bears testimony to our spirit that we too are sons of God when he lifts us from the works of death and bestows upon us the works of life.

It is not from the leaves or the blossom but from the fruit that we can tell a good tree from a bad, for it is " by their fruits that ye shall know them'.

It is therefore by their works that the sons of God are distinguished from the ' sons of unbelief', and it is by works that you too will prove the sincerity of your own desire and put mine to the test.

2. I long for and, indeed, require your promised and expected presence here.

Do you ask why?

It is not because I look for any natural satisfaction in your presence, but simply because I wish both to profit you and profit by you.

The nobility of your birth, the strength of your body, the comeliness of your appearance, the grace of your youth, your estates, mansion, and gorgeous furniture, the marks of your high station, and on the top of all this your worldly wisdom; all these are of the world, and the world loves its own.

But for how long?

Certainly not for ever, since the world will not last » Thomas iste Ordini Cisterciensi in Claravalle sese devoverat

, 80 Mabillon.

But surely not as Eales translates:

'Thomas had taken the vows of the Cistercian Order at Clairvaux '.

TO THOMAS, PROVOST OF BEVERLEY

15§9 for ever, but not even for a long time.

The world will not acknowledge all these things in you for long because you will not have them for long: the days of man are short.

The world and its glory pass; and it will part with you before it passes.

Why does this love, which you will so soon lose, please you so unboundedly?

I love you for your own sake and not for the sake of your possessions, let these go to where they belong. Remember your promise and do not deny me any longer the satisfaction of your presence, I who love you so truly and will love you for ever.

United by a pure love in life, we will not be separated in death. Those things which I desire in you, or rather for' you, do not belong to the body, they are not subject to time, so they do not fail with the body or pass with time, rather when the body has been laid aside the joy of them increases and they last for ever.

They have nothing in common with the things I have enumerated above, things with which the world, but not the Father, has endowed you.

These all vanish at the hour of death, if they have not vanished before.

3. It is the best part which will never be taken away.

And what is this best part?

"Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man to conceive it."

A man who lives as a man or, to speak more clearly, a man who complies with flesh and blood, knows nothing of it, because flesh and blood do not disclose it, but only God by his Spirit.

The merely animal man is never admitted to this secret, he does not perceive the things that are of God.

Blessed are those who hear, 'I have called you friends, because all things, whatsoever I have heard from the Father, I have made known to you'.

How wicked is the world, which only favours its friends so as to make them the enemies of God and accordingly unworthy of the counsel of the blessed.

Clearly the world which wishes to be your friend is the enemy of God.!

And if the servant knows not what his lord does, how much less does the enemy! Moreover the friend of the Bridegroom stands and is so overjoyed at the voice of the Bridegroom that he says: 'How my heart melted at the sound of his voice!'

And so the friend of the world is excluded from the counsels of the friends of God, who have not received the spirit of this world but the Spirit of God that they may know what God has given them. I praise thee, my Father, because thou hast hidden these things from the wise and prudent and revealed them to children.

Even so, Father, because it seemed good in thy sight, not because they have deserved it of themselves.

For all have sinned and are destitute of thy glory, so that thou sendeth thy Spirit, without their deserving it, crying in the hearts of these, thy adopted sons, ' Abba, Father'.

Those who are led by thy Spirit are thy sons, and will not be left out of the counsels of their

Father.

Within them they have dwelling the Spirit which searches 1 Plane enim qui amicus vult esse tuus, inimicus Dei constituitur.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

even the hidden things of God.

Of what could they be ignorant who are taught all things by the unction of God?

4. Woe to you, children of this world, foolish in your prudence, knowing nothing of the life-giving spirit, nor sharing in the counsels which well up only between the Father and the Son and him to whom the Son will reveal them.

For ' who has known the mind of the Lord or who has been his counsellor?'

Not indeed no one ever, but only someone sometimes, only those who can truthfully say: 'The onlybegotten Son who is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared to us'. Woe to the world for its camour!

The Only-Begotten cries among the people like an angel of great counsel: "Who hath ears to hear let him hear'.

And since he can find no ears worthy to hear the secret which the Father has imparted to him, he disguises it under parables for the crowd, that hearing they may not hear and seeing they may not understand.

But to his friends he whispers apart:

'To you it has been given to know the mysteries of the Kingdom of God', and he also says to them:

' Fear not, little flock, for it has pleased your Father to give you a kingdom'.

And who are these friends of his? Without doubt those "whom he foreknew and predestined to be made conformable to the image of his Son, so that he might be the firstborn among many brethren'.

This is his great and secret counsel.

The Lord knows who are his own, but what was hitherto only known to God has now been revealed to men.

He does not deign to allow others to share in this great mystery, unless they are those whom he has known and foreordained to be his own.

Those whom he has foreordained, he has also called.

Who else indeed would be admitted to the counsels of God but those who are called?

And 'those whom he has called, them he has also justified'.

Over them the Sun rises, not the sun which is seen to shine every day on the good and bad alike, since only to those who are called is the prophetic promise made: 'Unto you that fear my name the Sun of Justice shall rise'.

While the sons of unbelief stay out in the darkness, the sons of light go out from the power of darkness into this new light, providing they can truthfully say to God:

' We partake with all them that fear thee'.

Do you see how fear must go first so that justification may follow?

Perhaps it can be said that we are called by fear and justified by love.

Finally: 'The just man lives by faith ', the faith surely ' that worketh by charity '.

5. And so let the sinner hear and be afraid and approach the Sun of Justice to be enlightened and see what he has to love.

What is that?

" Those who fear the Lord know no beginning or end of his mercy.'

They know no beginning on account of their being preordained, and they know no end because their blessedness shall never end.

The first has no beginning and the latter has no end.

Those whom he has foreordained from the beginning, he makes blessed without end, their

TO THOMAS, PROVOST OF BEVERLEY

calling and justification, at least in the case of adults, coming between.

Thus from the rising up of the Sun of Justice, the great mystery concerning predestination and beatification, hidden from before the beginning of time, begins at last to come forth from the depths of eternity, while each one who is called by fear and justified by love dares to believe that he also may be among the blessed, knowing that 'whom he has justified, them also he has glorified',

What then?

The soul hears her call and is struck by fear.

She then feels herself to be justified and is swamped with love.

Does she doubt that she is also to be glorified?

Initiated and then lifted up, can she despair of the consummation?

If fear of the Lord, in which I have said the call consists, is the beginning of wisdom, what else is the love of God but progress in wisdom, the love, that is, which for the time being comes from faith and is the source of our justification?

If this is so, what else but consummation in wisdom is that glorification from the divine and deifying vision which we hope for in the end?

' So one depth makes answer to another amid the roar of the floods ', when in terror of his judgements, that immense eternity and eternal immensity, of whose wisdom none can make a reckoning, leads in terror of his judgements but with wonderful goodness and power the corrupt and inscrutable heart of man into his eternal light.

6. For example, let us suppose a man in the world still held by love of the world and the flesh; a man carrying the image of an earthly man, still resting in earthly things. Who, but one himself sitting in the same shadow of death, could not see that such a man is wrapped about with horrible darkness?

No sun of salvation has yet shone on him, no interior inspiration bears testimony to him of his eternal salvation.

But if at some time the mercy of heaven should graciously regard him and send down on him the spirit of compunction, so that he comes to his senses with a groan, changes his life, calls upon God, and decides in future to live for God and not the world, would not such a one, in this undeserved visitation of heavenly light, in this sudden change of the right hand of the Most High, see himself to be no longer a son of wrath but of grace? Would not such a one, having experienced in himself the effect of divine goodness which had hitherto been so hidden from him that he could not know whether he was worthy of hatred or love, but seemed by the witness of his life to be worthy of hatred, for darkness was over the face of the abyss, would not such a one appear to have been rescued from a most deep and dark pit of horrible ignorance, and plunged into a pleasant region bright with eternal light?

7. Then at last the darkness is, as it were, divided from the light when the sinner is enlightened by the Sun of Justice, casts aside the works of darkness and puts on the arms of light; when he who by his former life and conscience was doomed as a true son of perdition

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

to the eternal flames, draws breath in such a great visitation of the day star from on high and begins, beyond all expectation, to glory in the hopes of the children of God.

As he is ravished by the near prospect of this vision, gazing upon it in the light which has newly come to him, he cries:

' The sun of thy favour shines out clear above us; thou hast made me glad at heart'.

'O Lord, what is man that thou shouldst notice him, or the son of man that thou shouldst give heed to him?'

Already, O loving Father, that most vile worm, worthy of everlasting hatred, is confident that it is loved because it feels that it loves: or rather because it divines that it is loved, it is ashamed not to love in return.

Now in thy light, O Light Inaccessible, it becomes clear what good things thou hast had in store for that miserable thing man even when he was evil.

He loves indeed, but not without reason, for he knows that he is loved without desert; he loves without end because he knows that he was loved before the beginning of time.

A great secret which from all eternity has remained hidden in the bosom of eternity has now been revealed in the light of day for the consolation of the wretched: God does not want the death of a sinner but that he should be converted and live.

As a witness, O man, to this secret you have the Spirit which justifies testifying to your own spirit, that you, even you, are a son of God.

See the design of God in the justification of yourself and declare and say: 'Thy decrees are my counsellors!'

Your present justification is both a revelation of the divine plan and a preparation for future glory.

Or rather predestination itself is the preparation for it and justification the approach to it.

It is said: "Do penance, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand'.

Now hear how predestination is the preparation for it: "Possess you the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world'.

8. Let no one who loves God have any doubt that God loves him.

The love of God for us precedes our love for him and it also follows it.

How could he be reluctant to love us in return for our love when he loved us even when we did not love him? I say he loved us.

As a pledge of his love you have the Spirit, and you have a faithful witness to it in Jesus, Jesus crucified.

A double and irrefutable argument of God's love for us.

Christ died and so deserved our love.

The holy Spirit works upon us and makes us love him.1_ Christ has given us a reason for loving himself, the Spirit the power to love him.

The one commends his great love to us, the other gives it.

In the one we see the object of our love, by the other we have the power to love.

The former provides the occasion for our love, the latter provides the love itself.

How shameful it would be to look with ungrateful eyes upon the Son of God dying for us!

But this could easily be were the Spirit lacking.

'The charity of God is poured forth in our hearts by 1 Spiritus afficit et facit amari.

TO THOMAS, PROVOST OF BEVERLEY

the Holy Ghost who is given to us.'

Loved we love in return, and loving we deserve to be still more loved.

If while we were still his enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, how much more being reconciled shall we be saved through his life. Why so?

"He that spared not even his own son, but delivered him up for us all, how hath he not also, with him, given us all things?'

9. Since then we hold a twofold token of our salvation, the double pouring forth of Blood and Spirit; neither avails without the other.

The Spirit is not given to any but those who believe in Christ crucified, and faith avails not unless it is actuated by love.

But love is the gift of the Holy Spirit.

And if the second Adam (I mean Christ) became not only a living soul, but also a quickening spirit, by one dying and by the other raising the dead, how can that which died in him avail me without that which gives life?

'The flesh profiteth nothing, it is the spirit that quickeneth.'

And what else does quickeneth mean but justifieth?

Since sin is the death of the soul (for the ' soul that sinneth, the same shall die') the life of it is undoubtedly righteousness, for "the just man lives by faith'.

And who is just, but he who pays his debt of love to God who loves him?

And this can never be except the Spirit reveal by faith the eternal designs of God for his future salvation.

And this revelation is nothing else but an infusion of spiritual grace through which, while mortifying the works of the flesh, a man is made ready for the kingdom which flesh and blood cannot possess.

He receives at the same time and in the same Spirit both the audacity to believe himself loved and the power to love in return, so that he should not be loved without return.

10. This is that holy and secret counsel which the Son receives in the Holy Spirit from the Father, and communicates to his own whom he knows, by the same Spirit, justifying them by communicating it, and communicating it by justifying them.

Thus a man is justified so that he begins to know himself even as he is known; that is, he begins to experience something of his future blessedness, as it has lain hidden from all eternity in God who foreordained it, to appear all the more plainly in him when he confers it. And for this great blessing which he has received let him rejoice for the time being in hope, but not yet in security.

How pitiful on the other hand are those who as yet hold no token of their call to such a joyful council of the just!

" What credence, O Lord, to such news as ours!"

Oh that they may be wise and understand.

But except they believe they shall not understand.

11. O unhappy and foolhardy lovers of this world, you too have your counsels, but they are far apart from the counsels of the just!

Scale adheres to scale, there is no vent between you.! You too, I say, even you, O impious ones, share a counsel together, but one against God and against Christ.

For if, according to Scripture, ' piety is the 1 Squama squama conjungiture, et non est spiraculum in vobis.

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worship of God', it follows that whoever loves the world more than God is guilty of idolatry and impiety in that he worships and serves creatures rather than the Creator.

But between the counsels of the impious and those of the righteous there is fixed a great gulf. For as the righteous keep far aloof from the counsel and council of evildoers, so the wicked shall not rise to plead their cause, nor sinners have any part in the reunion of the just.

For there is a counsel of the just, a grateful shower, which God has kept for his chosen, a truly secret counsel, coming down nevertheless like dew on to fleece. It is a sealed fountain of living waters of which no stranger may partake.

It is the glory of the Sun of Justice which rises only on those who fear God.

12. When the Prophet adverts to the impious who remain in their aridity and blindness and are not privy to the rains and light of the just, he mocks at them and points them out as persons wrapt in gloom, confused and overcast, saying:

' Here is the people who will not listen to the voice of God'.

O wretched people, you will not say with David: 'Let me listen to the voice of the Lord God within me'.

You pour yourselves out on the vanities and follies, and will not listen to the intimate and most excellent words of truth.

"Great ones of the world, will your hearts be always hardened?

Will you never cease setting your hearts on shadows, following a lie?'

Will you always remain deaf to the voice of truth, ignoring the counsel of God who bears peace in his mind and speaks words of peace to his people, his holy ones, those whose hearts are turned unto him?

' Now you are clean', he said, ' by reason of what I have spoken to you.' And accordingly those who do not hear what he has said to them are not clean.

13. But do you, dearest son, if you would prepare the ear of your heart to hear the voice of God, sweeter than honey and the honeycomb, fly exterior cares, so that, with your spiritual sense free and unimpeded, you can say with Samuel:

' Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth'.

This voice is not heard in the market place nor does it sound in public. A secret counsel demands a secret hearing.

Without doubt it will give you great joy and delight if you lend a prudent ear to it. Abraham was commanded to go forth from his country and from his kinsfolk that he might see and possess the land of the living.

Jacob when he left his brother and home crossed the Jordan and was received by the embraces of Rachel.

Joseph, after he had been sold in secret and taken from his father and home, ruled in Egypt.

The Church is commanded to forget her nation and the house of her fathers, so that her beauty may delight the king. The child Jesus was sought by his parents among their friends and relations, but he was not found there.

So do you also fly your brethren if you would find your salvation.

Fly from the midst of Babylon, fly from the sword of the North wind.

In the words of the Prophet, I am ready 'to meet

TO THOMAS OF SAINT OMER

you with bread' when you are in flight. You call me your abbot: for the time being I will not refuse that title for the sake of complaisance.

Complaisance, I say, not that I may demand it from you but that I may show it to you, just as ' the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister and to give his life a redemption for many'.

If you deem me worthy, accept me as your fellow disciple whom you have chosen as your abbot.

One master in Christ we will both have, and so let this letter end with his name, for ' the end of the law is Christ unto the justice of everyone that believeth '.

LETTER 110

TO THOMAS OF SAINT OMER, AFTER HE HAD BROKEN HIS PROMISE TO

BECOME A MONK

To his dearest son, Thomas, that he may walk in the spirit of fear, from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

Wee do well to admit the debt you have incurred by your promise and to admit your guilt in delaying the payment of it. You must consider not only what you have promised but also to whom you have promised it.

I too remember well your making the promise, but although you made it in my presence you did not make it to me and I claim no share in it.

So you need not fear that I, who was only the witness and not the Lord of it, shall upbraid you for your futile delay in the fulfilment of it.

I saw and was glad; and now it only remains for me to pray that my joy may be complete, but this will only be when you have honoured it. You set yourself a limit which you ought not to have passed. You have passed it, but that is not my responsibility:

"To your own Lord you stand or fall'.

But because the danger of your position is so menacing I have decided, not indeed to threaten or reprove you, but to advise you, and this only in so far as you can take it in good part.

If you hear me, well and good; if you do not, it will not be for me to judge you; there is one who will see and judge, even the Lord who judges us all. What is especially a matter for fear and remorse is that you have lied, not to man, but to God.

You have asked me to spare your blushes before men and I will do so, but is your shamelessness to be left unashamed before God? Why are you afraid of what men might think of your conduct and yet not afraid of God's frown?

'Perilous is his frown for wrong-doers.'

Are you more afraid of the reproaches of men than the torments of hell? Do you fear the tongue of flesh and scorn the sword that smites all flesh?

Are these the fine principles which you tell me you are acquiring in your pursuit of knowledge, the knowledge you follow with so much love and zeal that you do not care if the fulfilment of your promise is impeded?

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

2. I ask you, what sort of tribute to virtue is this, what sort of advance in knowledge, what sort of result is this of your erudition, to fear where there is no cause to fear and yet to have no fear of the Lord?

How much better for you to learn Jesus, Jesus crucified.

This, of course, is not an easy knowledge to acquire, save for one who is crucified to the world.

You deceive yourself, my son, if you think you can learn from the masters of this world what is a gift of God and can be obtained only by those who follow Christ and scorn the world.

This is a knowledge imparted, not by books, but by grace; not by the letter but by the Spirit; not by mere book learning but by the practice of the commandments of God.

' Sow for yourself in right doing and reap in mercy and be enlightened with the light of knowledge.' You see the light of knowledge cannot properly be acquired unless there first enter the soul the seed of righteousness from which may come the grain of life and not the straw of vainglory.

Do you who have not yet sown for yourself in right doing nor yet gathered your sheaves of mercy, fancy that you are following true knowledge?

Perhaps you fancy that the knowledge which puffs up is true knowledge?

If so you err stupidly 'by always spending and having no bread to eat, always toiling and never a full belly'. Come to your senses, I implore you, and consider that this extra year which you have permitted yourself at the cost of offending God, is not at all a year acceptable to him, but a seed-bed of disunion, an incentive to wrath, a feeding ground for apostasy, a year which will extinguish the spirit, impede grace, and induce the tepidity which God vomits from his mouth.

3. Alas, it seems to me that you are led by the same spirit as your namesake Thomas, one time Provost of Beverley.

He, like you, promised himself with all his heart to our Order and this house; then, like you, he began to make delays, and little by little to grow cold until a sudden and terrible death snatched him away while he was still a complete secular and in bad faith, a double child of hell.

May the all-merciful God save him, if possible from the terrible consequences!

The letter which I wrote to him in vain still exists.

B doing what I could to warn him of what must soon befall him, I only succeeded in saving myself from any responsibility for him.

If he had only listened to me, how happy he would have been!

But he equivocated and I am innocent of his blood.

Yet I am not satisfied by this.

Although I am not to blame in the matter, yet I am impelled by the charity which seeketh not its own to lament for the parlous state in which he died by his own fault. How mysterious are the judgements of God!

How fearful his counsels for the sons of men!

Here is one to whom he gave his Spirit, but only to take it away again, so that thereby he sinned a sin beyond all measure.

Grace was given to him and for this his transgression was all the greater,

TO GEOFFREY OF PERONNE

Yet this was not the fault of the giver, but of him who rejected the gifts and so added sin to sin.

Using ill the freedom which was his he saddened the free Spirit by his own free choice, he scorned the grace which was given him, and failed to put into effect the inspiration of God, so as to be able to say: 'The grace of God has not been rendered void in me'.

4. If you are wise you will wash your hands in the blood of the sinner by learning from his folly and taking pains quickly to escape from the pit of perdition and release me from the terrible fear I have for you.

I confess that I feel your turning away just as if my heart were being torn from my body, for you are very dear to me and I regard you with all the affection of a father.

For this reason every time I think of you I feel a sword of anxiety pierce my soul, and I feel it all the more bitterly when I consider that you yourself have no fear at all in the matter.

Of such as you it was written:

' For when they shall say peace and security, then shall sudden destruction come upon them'.

I see many fearful things threatening you while you delay to come to your senses, for I have had much experience and only wish that you could profit by it too.

Believe me who have had experience, believe me who am fond of you, and understand that because of my experience I am not deceived, and because of my affection for you I would not deceive you.

LETTER III

TO THE DISTINGUISHED YOUTH, GEOFFREY OF PERONNE,

AND HIS COMPANIONS

Geoffrey of Péronne was one of a band of noble youths whom St. Bernard converted when he was in Flanders.

They are said to have numbered thirty in all.

To his dear son Geoffrey and all his companions, the spirit of counsel and strength, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

HE news of your conversion has resounded abroad edifying many Vasa rejoicing the whole Church.

'The heavens rejoice, the earth is glad' and every tongue praises God.

' How the earth shook, how the sky broke at the coming of God', pouring down more

'copiously than usual the gracious shower that God keeps for his chosen.

Never more will the Passion of Christ appear of no effect in you, as in the many ' children of unbelief'.

While they put off their conversion from day to day they are snatched away by an unexpected death and in the twinkling of an eye they are plunged into the pit.

Like a tree in spring the cross has burst into flower, the cross on which the Lord of glory hung not only for the Gentiles, but also for the scattered sons of God that he might gather them together in one.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

is he and no other who has gathered you together, he who loves you so well has gathered you as the precious fruit of his cross, as the worthy reward of the blood he shed.

If the angels of heaven rejoice over the conversion of one sinner, what wil! they do over the conversion of so many who were sinners too, who for their very renown in the world, for their birth and youth, were such a bad example to so many?

I read that God did not choose "many noble, many wise, or many mighty ' but now contrary to the usual rule he has converted by his wonderful power a whole band of such.

They have deemed the glory of this world worthless; they have trampled on the flower of their youth; they have held their noble lineage of no account; they have considered worldly wisdom foolishness; they have defied flesh and blood; their natural affection for relations and friends they have renounced; all the privileges, honours, and dignities of their position they have treated as things no better than dung that they might gain

Christ.

If I thought you had done all this of yourselves, 1 would praise you; but it is the finger of God, the power of his right hand that has done it.

It is that best of gifts, that most perfect of gifts, which has come without doubt from the Father of lights.

Therefore it is right that we should sing our praises to him who alone does ero things, who has seen that the copious redemption which he has to offer has not been wasted in you.

2. What remains for you to do, my dear sons, but to endeavour to put your praiseworthy intention into effect.

See that you persevere, for perseverance is the only virtue which is crowned.

Do not be of those who say ' yes' one minute and ' no' the next, but true sons of your heavenly Father 'in whom there is no change nor shadow of alteration'.

May you be 'transformed into the same image, going from glory to glory as by the spirit of the Lord', being ever watchful that you do not become fickle, unstable, wavering.

It is written:

'A double-minded man is inconstant in all his ways', and again:

'Woe to the man who will go two ways about it to enter the land of his desires'.

I congratulate you, my dear sons, and myself also, for I have heard that Iam deemed worthy to help you in your good purpose.

I will do what I can to advise you and I promise to help you as I am able.

If I seem necessary to you or at least if you deem me worthy, I shall not grudge the trouble and I shall try not to fail you.

If it should be the will of heaven, I will earnestly take this burden on my shoulders, although they are already bowed with care.

Joyfully and, as the saying is, with open arms I will receive you as fellow citizens of the saints, servants of God's household.

How gladly will I not, in the words of the Prophet, ' bring out bread' to those who fly from the sword; water to those who thirst.

I leave the rest for my or rather your Geoffrey to say. Whatever he tells you in my name you can regard as coming from me.

TO GEOFFREY S PARENTS

LETTER 112

TO THE PARENTS OF THE AFORE-MENTIONED GEOFFREY, TO CONSOLE THEM

if God is making your son his own, as well as yours, so that he may become even richer, even more noble, even more distinguished and, what is better than all this, so that from being a sinner he may become a saint, what do either you or he lose?

But he must prepare himself for the kingdom which has been prepared for him from the beginning of the world.

He must spend the short time which remains of his life on earth with us in order to scrape off the filth of secular life and shake off the dust of the world, so as to be fit to enter the heavenly mansion.

If you love him you will surely rejoice because he is going to the Father, and such a Father!

It is true that he is going to God, but you are not losing him, on the contrary, through him you are gaining many sons.

All of us at Clairvaux or of Clairvaux will receive him as a brother and you as our parents.

2. Knowing that he is tender and delicate perhaps you are afraid for his health under the harshness of our life.

But this is the sort of fear of which the Psalm speaks when it says: 'Fear unmans them where they have no cause to fear'.

Have comfort, do not worry, I shall look after him like a father and he will be to me a son until the Father of mercies, the God of all consolation, shall receive him from my hands.

Do not be sad about your Geoffrey or shed any tears on his account, for he is going quickly to joy and not to sorrow. I will be for him both a mother and a father, both a brother and a sister.

I will make the crooked path straight for him and the rough places smooth. I will temper and arrange all things that his soul may advance and his body not suffer.1_ He will serve the Lord with joy and gladness,

'his song will be of the Lord's, for great is the glory of the Lord '.?

LETTER "113

IN THE PERSON OF ELIAS, THE MONK, TO HIS PARENTS

In the early printed editions it is claimed that the following letter was written by St. Bernard in the person of one of his monks.

Why, it is hard to say, for the letter reads like a parody of the master's style. But the half-baked rhetoric and exaggerated sentiments might well come from a very raw though

1... ut spiritus proficiat—a reminiscence undoubtedly of the Holy Rule of St. Benedict, where he says of the monk who has been ordained priest that he should not make his priesthood an occasion for pride but magis ac magis in Deum proficiat: 'advance ever more and more in ~ '

God'.

2 Cf. Holy Rule, Prologue.

' We have, therefore, to establish a school of the Lord's service, in the institution of which we hope to order nothing that is hard or rigorous.

But if anything be somewhat strictly laid down, according to the dictates of equity, for the amendment of vices and preservation of charity, do not therefore fly in dismay from the way of salvation, whose beginning cannot but be strait.

But as we go forward in our life and faith, we shall with hearts enlarged and unspeakable sweetness of love run in the way of God's commandments.

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doubtless fervent junior monk of the period.

It is hard to escape the impression that he was a prig.

To his dear parents, constant prayers from Elias, a monk but a sinner.

HE only lawful reason for disobeying parents is God, for he himself has said: 'He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me'.

If you really love me as good and religious parents, if you have a true and honest affection for your son, why do you keep worrying me when I am trying to please God, and why do you keep trying to take me from the service of him whose service is perfect freedom? Now I know for a fact that 'a man's household are his enemies'.

In this matter it would be wrong for me to obey you, in this matter you are not my parents, but my enemies.

If you loved me you would surely rejoice that I am going to my father and your father, the father of all, What have we in common, what else have I received from you but sin and misery?

Only this corruptible body which I bear; this I acknowledge and admit I have received from you.

Unhappy parents, are you not content with having unhappily brought me into this unhappy world!

Sinners, are you not satisfied that by your sin you have given birth to a sinner!

Or perhaps you envy me the mercy which I am hoping to obtain from him who does not wish for the death of a sinner, I whom you well know to be a child of hell!

2. Heartless father, savage mother, cruel parents, not so much parents as murderers, whose only grief is the salvation of their offspring, whose one consolation is the death of their son!

Do you prefer that I should perish with you rather than reign in heaven without you, is this the reason why you call me back to the wrecked ship from which I eventually escaped naked, to the fire from which I barely got away with my life, to the robbers at whose mercy I lay, but from whom I have recovered a little by the mercy of the Samaritan?

Why else do you strive to draw me back to the world like a pig to its filth, like a dog to its vomit, from the very gates of glory just when I, as a soldier of Christ, had almost captured heaven, though not by my strength, but by the strength of him who has conquered the world?

What extraordinary behaviour!

When the house is on fire and the flames close behind, you forbid me to leave and, having left, you persuade me to return!

And you do this while you yourselves are in the midst of the conflagration and with an obstinate insanity and insane obstinacy refuse yourselves to fly the danger!

What frenzy!

If you care nothing for your own death, why should you desire mine too?

_Is it your only fear that you should perish without me? What sort of consolation can one who is himself burning offer to others in a like case?

What consolation is it to the damned that they have fellow

TO GEOFFREY OF LUXEUIL OR LISIEUX

I7I sufferers in their damnation?

What remedy for the dying to see others dying too?

This is not what I am taught by that rich man who, despairing in his torments, asked that his brethren might be warned lest they should suffer a like fate, being fearful lest his own agony should be increased by the sufferings of his own kinsmen.

3. What!

Shall I go and console my weeping mother by a short visit, so that both she and I should weep for ever without consolation?

Shall I go and comfort my father furious at my short absence in time and be myself comforted for a time by his presence, so that each for himself and both for the other should be forever desolate with unconsolable sadness?

Should I not rather, after the example of the Apostle, fly flesh and blood, that I may hear the command of the Saviour saying:

° Suffer the dead to bury their dead', and sing with David:

'My heart is steeled against all consolation', and with Jeremias: 'It was no wish of mine that calamity should befall mankind'. How could I fall for worldly prospects and be deceived by the consolations of the flesh, when ' portion is none more to my liking and I welcome the lot's choice'?

There is no appetite for carnal pleasures when spiritual joys have once been tasted; earthly things are no satisfaction to one who expects the joys of heaven; passing things have a mawkish savour for one who thirsts for the delights of eternity.

Cease, therefore, I beg you, my parents, cease to afflict yourselves by tears and to disturb me by your fruitless efforts to recall me.

If you continue to worry me by your messengers I shall only have to betake myself farther off.

'Here is my resting place, here is my destined home', here I shall never cease to pray for you as well as for myself, here by my incessant prayers I shall obtain, if I can, that he for whose love we have parted for a while, may unite us together once more in a happy and eternal union, one in his love for ever and ever.

LETTER 114

TO GEOFFREY OF LUXEUIL OR LISIEUX

There is doubt as to whether the Geoffrey to whom this letter is addressed was of Luxeuil or Lisieux, because the Latin form of the two names is very similar and often confused. am sorry for you, my son Geoffrey, and I have good reason to be.

I For who would not be sorry that the flower of your youth which, amid the rejoicings of the angels, you offered still fresh to God as 'an acceptable fragrance' should be now trampled on by demons and soiled by foul vice and worldly filth. How could you turn your back upon God to follow the devil, how could you suddenly withdraw from the threshold of glory when Christ had begun to draw you after him?

In you I find verified the truth of those words:

' A man's

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

enemies will be of his own household', for your ' friends and neighbours came to meet you and stood against you', they called you back into the jaws of the lion, set you once more in the gates of death,

'in dark places like the forgotten dead', and now it wants but little for you to be swallowed up in hell where the lions are ready to devour you.

2. Turn back, implore you; turn back before you " sink under the flood, swallowed up in its depths, and the well's mouth closes over you'. Turn back before you go down to whence there is no return, before you are 'bound hand and foot and cast into outer darkness where there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth', before you are thrust down into a place of darkness and shadow of death.

Perhaps you are ashamed to return, because for the moment you have given up the battle.

You would do better to be ashamed not to return to the fight and give battle again after having run away.

The fight is not over yet, the lines are still closed in combat, the victory is still to be won.

If you will join us we do not wish to conquer without you nor do we grudge you your share in the glory. We will gladly run to meet you, ready to welcome you back, saying:

* There is good reason for this merry making and rejoicing because this son of ours was dead and has come to life again; was lost and is found'.

LETT ERsti§

TO BALDWIN, ARCHBISHOP OF PISA

The Baldwin to whom this letter is addressed was a monk of Clairvaux.

He became Cardinal in 1130 and Archbishop of Pisa in 1137.

The foundation mentioned at the end of the letter might be a reference to one in Sardinia, as there was no foundation in the diocese of Pisa.

It is difficult to say the exact date of this letter, but it was written sometime between 1139-1146.

To his Lord and cordial friend Baldwin, by the grace of God Archbishop of Pisa, that he may flourish in the hope and power of the Holy Spirit, from Brother Bernard.

HAVE received your letter expressing your desire to see me and your I great devotion.

Your affection is fully returned, for I too desire to see you and ' you love him who loves you'. I can tell you, if it» should be any comfort to you, that I have read your letter with great pleasure and would have even greater pleasure in your presence.

I wish that we could always be together or, as this is hopeless, that at least we could see each other from time to time, but that too rests with God.

You and I serve under the same Lord and we are both bound to do his will, so that we can neither of us do whatever we like.

He has put you in a high position to give light to the nations.

If you give

TO BALDWIN, ARCHBISHOP OF PISA

light as you should, it will be known to everyone; it will also be known to everyone if you do not give any light. ' A city set ona hill cannot be hid' nor can 'a candle on a candlestick'.

When a candle is thus set on a candlestick everything is seen, both the light it gives and the light it does not give.

Either everyone rejoices in the light of it, or else everyone reviles it for not giving light. How much better to be

'hid under a bushel ' than to be set on a candlestick and give no light!

A light that has gone out not only plunges everything in darkness, but it also smokes unpleasantly.

A candle on a candlestick must either shine or smoke.

Paul was a candle that shone, and he was salt that had kept its savour.

How could he have been anything else when everywhere he brought glory to his ministry?

He was everywhere a sweet odour of Christ.

For how many to-day is he not still 'an odour of life unto life'!

Blessed is the man to whom it can be said:

"We will run after thee in the odour of thy ointments ', it is as if to say:

' We will run in the rays of your light', which is the same as 'We go forward by the example of your life and works'.

The sweet odour of the saints is their light. How many sinners ran to repent through the example of St. John!

He gave both light and a sweet odour by the good report of his life and by his virtues.

He was 'a burning and shining light' set up on high, as if on a sort of candlestick of virtues, scattering on all sides light and a most sweet odour.

I want you to be like St. John.

Let your light shine before men, yet so as to burn before God as well, so that men may say of you: He was a burning and shining light.

For your own good it is necessary that you should burn, and for the good of those who look to you it is necessary that you should shine.

He shines well who is lit by his own fire.

Those who do not shine with their own light, shine as hypocrites with a borrowed light, not being on fire themselves.

Of the two it were better to burn without shining than to shine without burning.

So the Lord says: 'I am come to cast fire upon earth and what will I, but that it be kindled?'

The moon shines, ie it by no means burns, and the light of it fades because it only shines, so they say, with the light of the sun.

Perhaps this is why Scripture says: 'The fool is changed as the moon, but the wise man continueth as the sun'.

The wise man is compared to the sun because, like the sun, he shines with his own light and does not fade, for " charity ', without which no man can be wise, ' never falleth away'. When a man is content with the testimony of his own conscience, he does not care to shine with the light of another's praise.

But what am I doing saying all this to you as if it were necessary?

' Out of the fulness of the heart, my mouth ' speaketh', I do not know, but for an anxious love nothing is safe enough.

And so I will say something else that occurs to me.

They tell me that you have those about you who like to take gifts so that, it is said, one of your household secretly took a bribe for removing a

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steward.

Such things do not wound the conscience which does not consent to them, but they stain the reputation.

It is necessary to bring forth good things not only before God but also before men', although I know not how the consent of anyone to this can be excused if he does not correct it when he is able.

I humbly greet Brother Angelus! with your whole household.

I will ais the community for the foundation through him who, God willing, you send to the Chapter, if you command.

LETTER 116

TO THE VIRGIN SOPHIA

Bernarp, Abbot of Clairvaux, to the virgin Sophia that she may never sully her virginity, but attain its reward.

'+ yan are the winning ways, beauty is a snare; it is the woman who fears the Lord that will achieve renown.' I rejoice with you, my daughter, in the glory of your virtue whereby, you tell me, you have cast away the false glory of the world.

It is well to be rid of it, and you deserve praise for not having been deceived in a matter concerning which many people, wise enough in other respects, are exceedingly foolish.

What is the glory of the world but the flower of grass, a mere vapour that passes away!

Whatever its degree, there is more anxiety in it than joy. When you are advancing claims, protecting yourself, envying others, suspecting all, ever wanting what you have not got, never satisfied with what you have but always wanting more, what rest can there be in your glory?

If there should be any, the pleasure of it soon goes, never to return, and only anxiety is left. Moreover you can see how many for all their efforts never attain it and how few ever learn to despise it, because what is a necessity for many is a virtue for few.

I say for few, and this is especially so of the nobility: "Not many noble, but the base things of the world hath God chosen'.

Hence you are indeed blessed amongst others of your rank, because while they are contending for worldly glory you, by your very contempt for it, are exalted much more gloriously and by a far truer glory. You are far more distinguished and honourable for being one of so few than for being one of a great family.

For what you have been able to do by the grace of God is yours, but what you have by your birth is the gift of your ancestors.

And what is yours is all the more precious for being so rare.

Moral vigour amongst men is 'a rare bird on earth ? but it is even more so among refined and noble women.

'Who will find a vigorous woman?' the Scriptures ask, but it is much harder to find one who is

? Nothing is known of this Brother Angelus.

2 Horace, Sat., 2, 26.

TO THE VIRGIN SOPHIA

also of high birth.

God is not at all a respecter of persons and yet, I don't know why it is, virtue is far more pleasing in the nobility.

Perhaps because it is more evident.

It is not easy to know whether the baser sort lack the glory of the world by their own choice or by force of circumstances.

I certainly praise anyone who is virtuous through necessity, but I praise far more her who is virtuous by the free choice of her will.

2. Let other women who know no better contend amongst themselves for the tawdry and fleeting glory of short-lived and deceitful things, but do you strive to set your heart upon what can never fail.

Do you, I say, strive for that 'eternal weight' of glory which our present momentary and light tribulation worketh for us above measure exceedingly'.

And if those daughters of Belial who ' put on airs, walk with heads high, and with mincing steps' got up and adorned like a temple, abuse you, answer them:

' My kingdom is not of this world'; answer them:

' My time has not yet come, but your time is always ready'; answer them:

' My life is hid with Christ in God. When Christ shall appear, who is my life, then I also shall appear with him in glory'.

Although, if one must glory, you too can do so quite simply and quite safely, but only in the Lord. I will not mention the crown which the Lord has prepared for you in eternity.

I will say nothing of the promises he has given you, that as a happy bride you will be admitted to contemplate face to face the glory of the Bridegroom, that 'he will bring you into his presence glorious, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing', that he will receive you into his eternal embraces, that his 'left hand will pillow your head, and his right hand embrace you'. I will pass over in silence the special place reserved for virgins amongst the sons and daughters of the kingdom.

I will not mention the new song which you will sing as a virgin amongst virgins, but with special and most sweet tones all your own, rejoicing in it yourself and giving joy to the whole city of God, whilst you sing and dance and follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth.

'The eye has not seen, nor the ear heard, neither has it entered into the heart of man to conceive' what the Lord has prepared for you and for what you must prepare yourself.

3. So I will pass over what is promised to you in the future and concern myself solely with the present, with what you have already, with the ' firstfruits of the spirit', the gifts of the Bridegroom, the pledges of betrothal, the ' abundant blessings with which he has met you on the way', he whom you await to follow you and complete what is lacking! May he come out into the open to be seen by his bride in all his beauty and admired by the angels in all his glory. If the daughters of Babylon have anything like this, let them bring it forth, 'whose only glory is their shame'.

They are clothed in 1... quem et subsecuturum, atque quod deest completurum, exspectase

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

purple and fine linen, but their souls are in rags.

Their bodies glitter with jewels, but their lives are foul with vanity. You, on the contrary, whilst your body is clothed in rags, shine gloriously within, but in the sight of heaven, not of the world.

What is within delights because he is within you who is delighted, for you cannot have any doubt that ' Christ dwells in your heart':

' All the splendour of the king's daughter is within'.

Rejoice and be exceeding glad, O daughter of Sion, shout for joy, O daughter of Jerusalem, for the King has greatly desired thy beauty ' if confession and beauty are thy clothing and light is a garment thou dost wrap about thee' since " confession and beauty wait on his presence'.1_ On whose presence?

On his who is ' beautiful above the sons of men' and ' on whom the angels desire to look'.

4. You hear to whom it is you are pleasing?

Love what enables you to please him, love confession if you would desire beauty.

Beauty is the handmaid of confession.

'Confession and beauty are thy clothing' and 'Confession and beauty wait on his presence'.

In truth where there is confession, there too is beauty.

If there are sins, they are washed away in confession; if there are good works, they are commended by confession.

The confession of what you have done amiss is ' a sacrifice to God of a contrite heart'; the confession of God's mercies to you is "a sacrifice of praise'. What an excellent ornament of the soul is confession!

It cleans the sinner of his sin and renders the righteous man more unsullied.

Without confession the righteous man is insensible, the sinner dead:

' Confession perisheth from the dead'.

Confession therefore is the life of a sinner and the glory of a righteous man.

It is necessary for the sinner and becoming to the righteous: 'Praise becometh the upright'.

Silk, purple, and paint have their beauty, but they do not impart it.

They show their own beauty when applied to the body, but they do not make the body beautiful.

When the body is taken away, they take their beauty with them.

The comeliness which goes on with clothes, comes off with clothes, it belongs to the clothes and not the clothed.

5. Therefore do not emulate evil-doers and those who borrow their beauty elsewhere when they have lost their own.

They prove themselves destitute of any proper or natural beauty who go to such pains and such expense to make up after the fashion of the world that passes away so as to be admired by the foolish people who see them.

Consider it wholly beneath you to borrow your appearance from the furs of animals and the work of worms, let what you have be sufficient

1 Confessio et decorem induis, Confessio et pulchritudo in conspectu ejus.

In the above contexts Mgr. Knox translates quite legitimately ' confessio' as 'glory' and 'honour' respectively.

The Douai has * praise' in both cases.

But St. Bernard takes the word literally and then proceeds in the following paragraphs to play upon the double meaning of it, to confess sins in our current use of the word, and to confess the praises of God or to give thanks to God in the sense which St. Augustine uses it in his Confessions.

TO A NUN

for you.

The true and proper beauty of anything needs no help from other sources.

The ornaments of a queen have no beauty like to the blushes of natural modesty which colour the cheeks of a virgin. Nor is the mark of self-discipline a whit less becoming.

Self-discipline composes the whole bearing of a maid's body and the temper of her mind.

It bows her head, smoothes her brow, composes her face, binds her eyes, controls her laughter, bridles her tongue, calms her anger, and governs her steps.

Such are the pearls ht adorn the vesture of a virgin. What glory can be preferred to virginity thus adorned?

The glory of angels? An angel has virginity, but he has no body. Without doubt he is more happy if less strong in this respect.1

Excellent and most desirable is the adornment which even angels might envy !

6. There remains another thing concerning the same subject.

Without any doubt the more your adornment is your own the safer it is. You see women burdened rather than adorned with ornaments of gold, silver and precious stones, and all the raiment of a court.

You see them dragging long trains of most precious material behind them, stirring up clouds of dust as they go. Do not let this trouble you.

They leave it all behind them when they die, but you will take your holiness with you. What they carry about does not belong to them. When they die they will not be able to take a thing with them, none of all their worldly glory will go down with them to the grave.

These things of theirs belong to the world and the world will send the wearers naked away and keep all their vanities to seduce others equally vain.

But your adornments are not like this. They remain securely yours, secure because yours.

You cannot be deprived of them by violence nor lose them to guile.

Against them the cunning of the thief and the cruelty of the madman are of no avail.

They are not corrupted by moth and they do not wear out with age, nor are they spent with use.

They survive death, for they belong to the soul and not the body. They do not die with the body, but leave the body in company with the soul.

Even those who kill the body are powerless against the soul.

LETTER 117

TO A NUN A letter of exhortation and encouragement to a nun who, after living a worldly life for many years, had been converted to a better way of life.

| Yr was with great pleasure that I learned of your wish to strive for the I true and perfect joy which is not of this earth, but of heaven; which is not of this vale of tears, but of that "city of God which is

1 Angelus habet virginitatem sed non carnem; sane felicior quam fortior in hac parte.

Eales translates:

'. .

. in that respect his happiness exceeds his virtue'.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

enriched with deeply flowing rivers'.

The only true joy is derived not from creatures but from the Creator, no man can take it from you, and compared to it all earthly joy is no better than sorrow; all pleasantness, grief; every sweet thing, bitter; every seemly thing, mean; and finally everything else which might give pleasure, wearisome.

You yourself are my witness for the truth of this; ask yourself, you know yourself best.

Is this not the very thing which the Holy Spirit is crying out in your heart?

Were you not persuaded of this by the Holy Spirit before ever you were persuaded by me?

Unless you had been strengthened and charmed by interior graces in comparison to which every sensible consolation seemed dross, how could you, a mere girl, beautiful and well born, have had the power to overcome the weakness of both your sex and your age, and to repudiate the privileges of your position and beauty?

2. But you have acted wisely.

The earthly things which you have rejected are fleeting and of little worth, whereas what you are seeking now are great and eternal.

Let me tell the truth and say more: you are leaving the shadows and entering the light. From the depths of the sea, you are coming into harbour; after a wretched slavery, you are breathing the pure air of a happy liberty, in a word you are passing from death to life.

So long as you were living according to your own will and not God's will, according to your own law and not God's law, although alive you were no better than dead.

While living for the world you were dead to God or, to speak more truly, you were alive neither to the world nor to God.

While you were trying to live as one of the world under the habit and name of Religion, you alone had rejected God by your own will.

But you found that you were not able to do what you stupidly thought you could: the world rejected you, but not you the world.

So while you turned away from God, the world turned away from you and you fell, as the saying goes, between two stools.

You did not live for God because you did not wish to, nor for the world because you were not able to.

You were dead both to God and to the world.

To the former willingly and to the latter unwillingly.

This is what is apt to happen to those who make vows and do not keep them; who according to their profession are one thing and in their heart another.

But now by the mercy of God you are beginning to live again, not to sin, but to righteousness; not for the world, but for Christ, knowing full well that to live for the world is death, but in Christ even to die is to live.

' Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.'

3. We will not discuss any more your broken vow and violated profession.

From now the integrity of your life will not be undermined by the corruption of your heart, nor will you any longer sully the title of virginity by your evil life.

From now on there will be no deception in the name you bear, and the veil you wear will not any

TO A NUN OF TROYES

longer be meaningless. Why have you hitherto been called ' nun' and * Reverend Sister'! when under the cover of your holy habit you were living a life that was not holy? Why did you feign by the veil on your head a gravity that your impudent glances belied?

"The veil you wore covered a haughty brow, under the outward guise of modesty you carried a saucy tongue in your head.

Your unrestrained giggles, wanton bearing, good attire, were more becoming to a coiffure than a veil!?

But under the leadership of Christ the old habits have passed away and all things are made new and you now attend more to the care of your soul than your body and adorn your life rather than your dress.

You are doing what you should and, indeed, what you ought to have done long ago, for it is long since you made your vows.

But the Holy Spirit who breathes, not only where he wills, but also when he wills, had not then breathed upon you.

Here perhaps is some excuse for your former way of life.

But if you suffer the fire of the Holy Spirit which now burns in your heart, that divine fire which enkindles your heart in meditation, to die out, you can be sure that there will be nothing else for you but that other burning fire which shall never be put out.

Rather let the fire of the Spirit extinguish in you the concupiscence of the flesh lest (which God forbid) the holy desires which you have newly conceived be extinguished by it and you hurl yourself into the flames of hell.

LETTER 118

TO A NUN OF THE CONVENT OF ST. MARY OF TROYES

HAVE been told you are thinking of leaving your convent under the I pretext of seeking a harder way of life, and that although you will not listen to your Reverend Mother and sisters trying every argument to dissuade you and every means to prevent you from doing this, you are yet prepared to take my advice in the belief that whatever I suggest would be for the best.

You had done better to have chosen someone more experienced to counsel you on this matter, but as you have preferred myself I will not hide from you what I think best.

I have been turning this plan of yours over in my mind ever since I heard of it and I am still puzzled as to your motives.

It might be that you are inspired by zeal for God, in which case your plan would be excusable.

But all the same I do not see how it can be wise for you to follow it. Do youask why?

'Is it not wise', you say, 'to fly riches, crowded towns, and delicate meats?

Would not my modesty be safer in a desert where I could live in peace with a few others or even quite alone, so as to please him alone to whom I have pledged myself? '

1 Ut enim hdctenus Nonna et Sanctimonialis vocitata es.

St. Benedict rules that junior monks should call their seniors Nonnus.

There is no exact translation for this word.

2... wimpale magis quam velate congruerent.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

By no means.

For anyone wishing to lead a bad life the desert supplies ample opportunity.

The woods afford cover, and solitude assures silence.

No one can censure the evil no one sees.

Where there is no fear of blame the tempter approaches more boidly, and evil is committed with greater freedom.

In a convent, if you would do good there is no one to stop you; if you would do evil, you are not able.

Soon everyone would know about it, it would soon be blamed and corrected, just as on the other hand all would admire, respect, and imitate the good they saw.

Therefore you see, my daughter, that in a convent greater glory awards your deserts, and a more prompt correction your faults, for amongst others you set an example by a good life and give offence by a bad one.

2. But I will take away from you all excuse for error by the distinction made in the Gospel.

Either you are one of the foolish virgins (if indeed you are a virgin) or you are one of the wise. If you are one of the foolish, the convent is necessary for you; if you are one of the wise, you are necessary for the convent.

If you are one of the wise and well tried virgins, the reform which has been lately introduced into your convent and praised on all sides would be much discredited and weakened were you to leave, which is what I fear.

It would be said that had the convent been good you would never have left.

But if you are known to be one of the foolish virgins and depart, we will say that you left because being evil you could not live up to the high standards of the convent and had gone off to seek somewhere where you could live as you pleased.

And there would be some reason for this inasmuch as before the reform of your house you never, so I am told, mentioned this plan of yours, but only when Religion began to flourish there did you suddenly become holy and, fired by an unexpected fervour, begin to think of the desert.

I recognize, my daughter, I recognize in this, and only wish you could do so too, the poison of the serpent, the guile of the deceiver, the imposture of the trickster.1_ The wolf lurks in the wood.

If you, a little sheep, penetrate the shadows of the wood alone, you are offering yourself as a prey to the wolf.

But listen to me, daughter, listen to a faithful counsel.

Whether you are a saint or a sinner do not cut yourself off from the flock or you will fall a prey to the wolf and there will be none to rescue you.

If you are a saint, try to edify your sisters by your example.

If you are a sinner, do not pile one sin on the top of another but do penance where you are, for if you leave your convent you will incur great danger, as I have tried to show, give scandal to your sisters, and set the tongues of many wagging against you.

_ 7 versipellis astutiam, When an adjective, as we assume it is here, versipellis means ' that changes its form or shape', as the devil is apt to pose as an angel of light.

On the other hand, the word may be used as a substantive in which case it can mean ' were-wolf' or one that can change himself into a wolf.

TO ERMENGARDE, FORMERLY COUNTESS OF BRITTANY

I8I

LETTER 119

TO ERMENGARDE, FORMERLY COUNTESS OF BRITTANY

Ermengarde was the wife of Count Alan, and a great benefactress of Clairvaux.

She built the monastery of Buzay, near Nantes.

Her son relates that after the building had begun he and his mother were persuaded by ill-disposed persons to discontinue the project.

At length St. Bernard visited the neighbourhood and finding the building incomplete and the monks in difficulties, severely rebuked the founders and threatened to take his monks away.

After this the property was restored to the monks and the building completed.

Apparently it was not St. Bernard, but Godfrey, Abbot of Vendome, who urged Ermengarde to resume her purpose of entering the religious life, which she seems to have abandoned for a time.

In the following letter the saint expresses his esteem and affection for the countess who had by then become a nun.

It appears that he was what we should now call her spiritual director.

To modern tastes the wording of the letter may seem rather extravagant, but it has ample sanction in the taste and custom of the times.

The treatise of St. Ailred on Friendship shows that a spiritual friendship can be none the less real for being wholly spiritual, and may quite naturally find expression in terms of more human love, in the same way that the pure love of a soul for God has traditionally found its expression in the erotic language of the Song of Songs.

To his beloved daughter in Christ, once a distinguished countess, but now a humble handmaid of Christ, the respectful affection of a holy love, from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux. wisH I could find words to express what I feel towards you! If I you could but read in my heart how great an affection for you the finger of God has there inscribed, then you would surely see how no tongue could express and no pen describe what the spirit of God has been able to inscribe there.

Absent from you in body, I am always present to you in spirit and, although neither of us can come to the other, yet you have it within your power, not yet indeed to know me, but at any rate to guess something of what I feel.

Do not ever suppose that your affection for me is greater than mine for you, and so believe yourself superior to me inasmuch as you think your love surpasses mine.

Search your heart and you will find mine there too and ascribe to me at least as great an affection for you as you find there for me.

But your modesty is so great that you are more likely to believe that he who has moved you to esteem me and choose me as your spiritual counsellor has also moved me with a like feeling of affectionate concern for you.

It is for you to see that you have me always by you; for my part, I confess, I am never without you and never leave you.

{ wanted to scribble these few brief lines to you

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

from the road while travelling, and I hope, if God wills, to write to you more fully when I have the leisure.

LETTER 120

TO THE SAME

HAVE received what has given delight to my heart, the news of your peace.

I am glad because you are glad. Your evident joyfulness is a great refreshment to my mind.

It has nothing about it of flesh and blood, for now you are living humbly instead of in state, as one of no consequence instead of as a great lady, as poor instead of rich, and you are deprived of the consolation of your brother, son, and home.

So without doubt your joyfulness can only be of the Holy Spirit.

After having long since conceived of the fear of God you have at last given birth to the spirit of salvation, and love has cast out fear. How much sooner would I converse with you in your presence than write to you in your absence!

Believe me, I become angry with the affairs by which I always seem to be hindered from seeing you, and I greet with joy the opportunities of seeing you which [| seem to get so seldom.

Such opportunities are rarely given, but I confess that their very rarity is dear to me, for it were better to see you even if only occasionally than never at all.

I offer you a foretaste of joy which will soon be satisfied for I hope to come to you quite soon.

LETTER 121

TO BEATRICE,

A NOBLE AND RELIGIOUS LADY

I MARVEL at the zeal of your devotion and the strength of your aftection. My good lady, what can I mean to you? Why are you so anxious for me?

If I were related to you by any tie of blood, if I were your son or nephew, I could regard your many kindnesses, your frequent messages, and the innumerable and daily marks of your esteem, as the fulfilment of a duty and no matter for surprise.

But since I know you only as a great lady by birth? and not as my mother, it is no wonder that I wonder, it would only be wonderful if I were able to wonder enough.

Who of my relations and friends show the same care for me?

Who ever even enquires after my health?

To my friends, relations, and neighbours, 'I am discarded like a broken pitcher'.

Only you never forget me.

You ask after the state of my health, about the journey from which I have just returned, and the monks whom I have moved to another place.

To all of which I briefly reply that 'from a wilderness, from fearful desert spaces'

1 Hac tibi interim de via breviter in transiter scribere volui.

Eales has: '1 was anxious to write this short note to you about my journey while on the way ' (italics mine).

* Nunc autem cum genere tantum dominam, non matrem te cognoscamus. ales has:

' But as, in common with the rest of mankind, we recognize in you only a great lady, and vot a mother J

TO ADELAIDE OF MAURIENNE, WIFE OF LOUIS VI

the brethren have come unto an abundance of everything, of buildings and friends; into a fertile land and a dwelling place of greaty beauty.

I left them very contented and peaceful and came home myself also contented and at peace, except that for a few days, but in no small way, my fever returned and I became 50 ill that I thought I should die.

But God had mercy on me and I soon got over it so that now I feel stronger and better than I did before the journey.

LETTER 122

TO ADELAIDE OF MAURIENNE, WIFE OF LOUIS VI

To Adelaide, Queen of France, health and prayers from Bernard of Clairvaux.

I ADDRESS myself to your Majesty, not because of the notice you have taken of me or the friendship you have shown to me, but because

I trust in your well-known liberality and kindness.

Wicard, your man, complains that, through no fault that he is conscious of, you have unjustly driven him into exile and deprived him of all his goods.

Because I know this man and the good intention he has of leaving the world and turning to God, I do not think it would be inappropriate either for me to desire or for you to consent that he should be reinstated in your favour and in some, if not all, of his goods.

I commend unto you, that we may both find favour in your eyes, this holy Religious, the Abbot of Beaulieu, who on this account is exposing himself to the fatigue of the long journey to you with this letter.

LETTER 123

TO THE DUKE AND DUCHESS OF LORRAINE

To the Duke and Duchess of Lorraine that they may so rejoice in a pure and mutual love that only the love of Christ is supreme in them, from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

VER since necessity compelled us to send into your land for goods, EB we have always found you favourable and friendly.

Whenever there was need you have bestowed liberally of your bounty on our people. You have liberally remitted all tolls and other dues for our merchants passing through your territory.

Without doubt your reward for all this will be very great in heaven, if we believe those words of our Lord in the Gospel:

' As long as you did it to one of these the least of my brethren, you did it to me'.

But why is it you allow your servants to take away again what you have given?

It is worthy of you and honourable that none of your servants should dare to ask for again what you have been pleased to give for the good of your souls.

If therefore you do not regret your favours (God

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

forbid) it cannot be your will that we should be deprived of the gifts it has been your pleasure that we should receive from you. May you then be pleased to command as a firm and inviolable rule that our people shall not be troubled by any of your ministers.

Otherwise, after the example of our Lord who did not refuse to pay custom for himself, we too are ready freely to render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, tribute to whom tribute is due, custom to whom custom is due, especially as according to the Apostle we ought not to seek your gifts so much as the fruit that may abound to you from them.

LETTER 124

TO THE DUCHESS OF LORRAINE

cive thanks to God for the devotion which I know you have towards him and his servants.

Whenever even the smallest spark of heavenly love seems to glow in a human heart exalted by earthly dignities, there can be no doubt that it is not a merely human virtue but a gift of God.

I most gratefully receive the generous offer you have made in your letter to me.

But as I know you to be engaged on an unforeseen and very serious matter just now I have thought it better to await your convenience, as it shall please you.

I would not wish to burden anyone especially in the things of God, in which it is our duty to seek not so much the gift as the reward of the giver.

So will you please name the day and place, answering by this messenger, on which, God helping and your present affair satisfactorily settled, you would be near these borders.

Brother Widot will meet you, so that if he finds anything in your territory suitable for our Order, you will be able to fulfil your promise all the more quickly and joyfully for ' the Lord loves a cheerful giver'.

I am anxious to obey your wishes in this matter as far as is reasonable, so if this delay does not suit you, please let me know. Through you I salute the Duke and admonish you both that if you know this castle, for which you are making war, does not belong to your domain, for the love of God to leave it alone, ' for what does it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of his own soul?'

LETTER 125

TO THE DUCHESS OF BURGUNDY

[ies special friendship which your Highness is supposed to have for _ me, a poor man, has now grown to such a pitch that whoever thinks he has offended you believes that the surest way back to your favour is through me.

Hence when I was in Dijon a short while ago, 1 Mabillon considers that his Wido may be Guy, the Abbot of Trois-Fontaines, who frequently went to Lorraine.

TO THE DUCHESS OF BURGUNDY

Hugh de Bese beseeched me with many prayers that I should placate your anger which he has called down on himself and that for the love of God and the friendship you have for me you should give your assent to the marriage of his son.

Although this marriage did not meet with Nett approval he had irrevocably determined to make it because he elieved it advantageous for himself.

Now he is again besieging my ears concerning this affair not only with his own prayers but with those of his friends as well.

I am not greatly concerned with his worldly advantage, but since the matter seems to have reached such a pass that he cannot prevent it without a breach of faith, I thought it well to mention it to you.

It must needs be something of very special importance indeed if it is to be preferred to the good faith of a Christian and one of your own men.

A man cannot break faith and yet still remain faithful to his Prince.

I see no gain, but rather great danger to you, if you should happen to disturb the union of two people whom it may be God's pleasure to join together. May God pour out his grace upon you and upon your sons, lady most noble and dear to me in Christ.

" Behold, now is the acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation': pour forth your corn on Christ's poor that you may receive your reward with increase in heaven.

FROM HILDEBERT, ARCHBISHOP OF TOURS, TO ST. BERNARD

Hildebert ruled the Church of Mans from 1098 until 1125, when he became Archbishop of Tours.

In the following rather prosy letter he asks for the friendship of St. Bernard.

BELIEVE that most people are aware that balsam is known by its smell and a tree I by its fruit.

In just the same way, dearest brother, by your reputation I know that your life is holy and your doctrine pure.1_ Although I live a long way from you yet the report has reached as far as me of how happy are the nights you spend in contemplation, how many are the sons that are born of your activity, ? and how wholly you are given to cultivating the virtues and dominating the flesh.

Whoever speaks of you to me has this same tale to tell.

Like oil poured forth, such is the perfume of your name, such already the reward of your goodness; the ears of grain which you gather from your field before the final harvest.

A notable and deathless tribute is some reward for virtue in this life.

This is what it wins of itself and keeps for itself.

The splendour of it is not diminished by jealousy nor augmented by any external efforts.

Detractors cannot rob us of the esteem of good men nor can it be increased by the fawning of flatterers.

It rests with each of us either to augment it by our virtues or to diminish it by our faults,

Without doubt great hope is cherished in the Church that you will never fall away from your fair reputation because it is founded on a rock.

2. From all that I have heard of you I have come to love you and to desire with a great desire to be admitted to the sanctuary of your friendship and remembered by you when you steal from converse with men to speak to the King of Angels on behalf

1... et quam sis ad sanctimoniam compositus, et integer ad doctrinam.

Eales:

. how you _are steadfast in holiness and sound in doctrine '.

; ng :

2... quam jucundas noctes cum tua Rachel ducas, que progenies ex Lia tibi exuberet.

Literally:

'What happy nights you spend with your Rachel, what abundant an offspring is born to you of Lia'.

Rachel who was beautiful but sterile and Lia who was fruitful but blear eyed have traditionally been taken as types of the contemplative and active lives.

The rendering given in the text seemed to us preferable and more intelligible than the involved metaphor.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

of men.

Now this desire of mine has been much increased by Gébuin, Archdeacon of Troyes, a man outstanding both in virtue and learning.

I would have believed it my duty to commend him to you were I not sure that one whom you deem worthy of your favour needs no commendation of mine.

If you do not know it, it was from him that I learned that you are qualified to be a spiritual guide in the Church both by example and by word.

And now, so as not to burden you with my verbosity, I must bring this letter to an end, but my desire for your friendship will not end until

I hear from you.

I beg you to let me know how you are disposed by return of letter.

LETTER 126

TO HILDEBERT, IN ANSWER TO THE ABOVE LETTER

: Aer man. out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good things.'

Your letter was so much to your own credit as well as to mine that I was most happy to receive it.

It enables me to honour you while deriving from it great honour for myself.

The condescension of a man in your high station and the regard which you express for such an insignificant person as myself, certainly afford me great satisfaction.

There is nothing more rare or more dear to God than a man in a high position who is not high minded but stoops to those of low estate.

No man can be accounted wise except he harken to the counsel of Wisdom saying:

' The greater thou art, the more in all things abase thyself'.

And you have done this by abasing yourself to me, a great man to a small, an elder man to a younger.

I could praise your well-proven wisdom and my praises would be justified, perhaps more justified than those you bestow upon myself.

In estimating the grounds for our certainty we should realize that there is a world of difference between the evidence of mere hearsay and that provided by unmistakable facts, and then what we have learned for certain we can proclaim with confidence.

You should look to the proofs for what it has pleased you to write in praise of myself.

I have a proof of your goodness in the letter you have written so full of my praises.

Another might be pleased with the learning it shows, with its sweet and pure language, with its limpid style, or with its welcome and praiseworthy brevity, but for my part I value most the wonderful humility with which a great man like you troubles to approach a person of my insignificance, and overwhelm me with your greeting, praises, and reverence.

As for what you say of myself, I see in it not what I am, but what I should like to be, and what I am ashamed of not being.

But such as I am, I am yours; and if, by God's gift, I should ever be any better than I am now, I shall still be yours, most reverend and loving father.

NOTE Tue following letters are concerned with the unfortunate schism in the Papacy, when, on February 14, 11 30, the people of Rome surpassed themselves by proclaiming, on the same day and within a few hours of each other, two different Popes: Gregory,

Cardinal Deacon of S. Angelo, and Peter Leonis, Cardinal Priest of St. Calixtus,

NOTE ON THE SCHISM OF I130

_ The rather obscure roots of this affair seem to lie in a decree of Pope Nicholas II in the year 109, by which it was ruled that when a Pope died the Cardinal Bishops were to deal with the election of his successor and then associate themselves with the Cardinal Clerks, and finally demand the agreement of the rest of the clergy and people of Rome.

It seems clear from this that the election was vested in the Cardinal Bishops absolutely, but in course of time the text became corrupted and, in certain copies, the word " Bishops' was dropped out altogether.

Peter Leonis was the son of a converted Jew and a member of the powerful and rich family of Pierleoni.

As soon as he became Cardinal, his faction began to manceuvre for his eventual election to the Papacy, a prospect to which they were entitled by their fortune, if not by their virtue.

So when Pope Honorius fell ill, the Chancellor, Cardinal Haimeric, foreseeing possible trouble over the election, quietly moved him up to the Monastery of St. Andrew on the Ccelian hill, and under the protection of his own faction, the Frangipani.

In its simplest terms what happened after this was as follows.

When Honorius died the matter was kept quiet, and he was hurriedly buried in accordance with the letter, if not with the spirit, of the law, which forbade an election to take place before a Pope had been dead and buried for three days. Then the fourteen electors whom Cardinal Haimeric had gathered together (four Cardinal Bishops, five Cardinal

Priests and five Cardinal Deacons) proceeded to elect anew Pope.

Their unanimous choice fell on Gregory, the Cardinal Deacon of S. Angelo, and he, after a moment's understandable hesitation, accepted the redoubtable charge they had placed upon him.

After this they lost no time in taking him to the Lateran Basilica where he received the devotion of a crowd of people, and then on to the Palladium, a monastery which stood on the Palatine hill, to be invested with the insignia of his office.

All this was performed under the protection of the Frangipani, and took place at nine in the morning of February 14, 1130.

By midday Peter Leonis, also under the protection of his faction, hastened as fast as he could go to the Church of St. Mark, where he too was proclaimed Pope by nine Cardinal Deacons, thirteen Cardinal Priests, all anxious to take this opportunity of asserting their pretended right to vote in the election of a Pope, and two Cardinal Bishops.

After this his faction proceeded in the accepted fashion of the Roman people to sack the Lateran and other strongholds of their opponents, while the principals exchanged fulminations and excommunications from a safe distance.

On February 23 the two Popes were duly consecrated, Gregory in the titular church of Cardinal Haimeric, S. Maria Novella, by the Cardinal Bishop of Ostia, under the title of Innocent II, and Peter in the Basilica of St. Peter by Peter, Bishop of Porto, under the title of Anacletus II.

Then having once more excommunicated each other, they both appealed to Christendom for support.

Innocent alleged in his favour the support of the greater number of the Cardinal Bishops and the saner part of the Sacred College.

Anacletus based his claim on the irregularity of his opponent's election in view of its secrecy and on the quantity, ifnot the quality, of his supporters.

There seems to be little doubt at all that Innocent had the better claim.

If the secrecy of his election was irregular it was amply justified by the circumstances and he had a clear majority of the Cardinal Bishops and all the more conscientious of the Sacred College behind him.

And when one compares the persons of the two claimants, there can be even less doubt that Innocent had the moral advantage.

Even Peter the Venerable, usually so careful and moderate, described Anacletus in a letter to the Bishop of Tusculum as guilty of ' ambition, cupidity, perjury, and yet worse'.

A formidable indictment coming from such a man.

But the struggle was long and hard and the supporters of both sides were not always influenced by the highest motives.

But St. Bernard did not hesitate: he threw himself into the fight on the side of Innocent, and by his tireless energy succeeded in overthrowing the rival Pope.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 127

TO HILDEBERT, ARCHBISHOP OF TOURS

A letter written by St. Bernard to try and persuade Hildebert to support Pope Innocent.

But Hildebert was quarreling with the King and hesitated to support the Pope who claimed the allegiance of the King. He hesitated up to the last moment and beyond, for he died still opposed to Innocent.

This letter was probably written about the year 1131.

To the great and renowned Priest of God, Hildebert, by the grace of God Archbishop of Tours, that he may walk in the spirit and search all things by the light of the spirit, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

WILL speak to you in the words of the Prophet and say:

"Comfort I is hidden from mine eyes because death hath divided the brethren'.

For it seems that, according to Isaias, they have made a covenant with death and a compact with hell.

Innocent, the anointed of the Lord, has been set up for the fall and rise of many.

Those who are of God have freely chosen him, but he who stands over against him is either

Antichrist or his follower.

The abomination of desolation is standing in the Holy Place, to gain possession of which he has set fire to the sanctuary of God.

He persecutes Innocent and with him all who are innocent.

Innocent has fled from his face, for ' When the lion roars, who shall not be afraid?'

He has obeyed the words of the Lord:

"When they persecute you in one city flee unto another'.

He has fled and by the flight that he has endured after the example of the Apostles he has proved himself really an apostle.

Paul was not ashamed to slip through the fingers of those who sought his life, by being let down the walls of a city in a basket.

He fled away, not because he was afraid, but because he wanted to * give place unto wrath', not to run from death but to achieve life. With good reason therefore does the Church concede to Innocent the place of Paul, when she sees him following in the footsteps of Paul.

2. But his exile is not fruitless, he is labouring that he may be "enriched with his toil'.

His city has cast him out, but the world has received him.

From all over the world they have ' brought out bread ' to the fugitive, although, like Shemei in his wrath, Gerard of Angouléme? has not yet entirely ceased to curse David.

Whether 1 This is a play upon the family name of Anacletus II, Peter Leonis.

It occurs frequently in the letters of St. Bernard written during the schism.

* Gerard, Bishop of Angouléme, is an enigmatic character.

Undoubtedly he was a very learned man and quite fearless .

. he had the courage to rebuke William, Count of Poitiers, for living in adultery, and William was formidable and not very gentle.

But Gerard was ambitious and had come to look on his Legatine authority as a personal right.

He immediately applied to Innocent to confirm him in his legateship in a very flattering letter on May I, 1130, but Innocent refused to do so, and Gerard promptly threw in his lot with Anacletus, who made no difficulty in the matter.

TO MASTER GEOFFREY OF LORETO

that sinner who sees it and is enraged likes it or not, he cannot prevent Innocent from carrying a crown of glory, and being exalted before kings. Do not all the Princes know that he is truly the chosen of God?

The Kings of France, England, Spain and, last of all, the King of Rome, have received Innocent as Pope and recognized him alone as the Bishop of their souls.

Only Achitophel does not see that his schemes have been exposed and brought to nothing.

In vain does that wretched man labour maliciously to devise schemes against the people of God and to hatch plans against the saints who adhere firmly to the saintly Innocent and refuse to bow the knee to Baal.

No guile shall obtain for his parricide the kingdom of Israel, that holy city, which is " the Church of the living God, the pillar and ground of the truth'.

"°A triple cord shall not be lightly broken' and the choice of the most worthy of the Sacred College, the approbation of the majority of the people, and (what is more than all this) the witness of a pure life, all combine to commend Innocent to everyone and establish him beyond doubt as the Supreme Pontiff.

3. And so, my father, we all expect your support, late though it may be, to come upon us like dew upon fleece. We do not blame your slowness, because it savours of gravity and banishes all suspicion of levity. Mary did not at once answer the greeting of the angel, she first considered what sort of greeting it might be; and Timothy was warned not to be too ready to lay hands on anyone.

But I who am known to you say:

' Nothing in excess'.

I who am your friend say to you: 'Do not try to be more wise than it behoves you to be wise'.

I confess it is a shame that the old serpent should have left his silly women to coil himself round your heart, to attack such a strong column of the Church as you are.

But I have every confidence that though he may attack you he will not overthrow you, for ' the friend of the bridegroom stands and rejoiceth at the bridegroom's voice ', the voice of gladness and healing, the voice of unity and peace.

LETTER 128

TO MASTER GEOFFREY OF LORETO

Geoffrey of Loreto was well known for his learning and afterwards became Archbishop of Bordeaux.

He took his name from the Loreto close to Poitou in the diocese of Tours. z look for fragrance from flowers and flavour from fruit.

Wi coer by the fragrance of your good reputation which 'soothes the heart like flow of oil', Iam hoping, dearest brother, to know you by your fruit in deeds.

And not I alone but God himself, although he has need of no one, needs your co-operation in this time of crisis, if you are not false.

It is a wonderful thing for you to be able to co-operate with God; but not to do so, when you can, would

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

be damnable.

You have favour with God and men, you have learning, the spirit of liberty, and a gift for living, effective, and pointed eloquence; you cannot, being a friend of the Bridegroom, fail his bride in such a crisis.

A friend is known in the hour of need.

Can you sit by idle while your mother, the Church, is troubled?

There has been a time of rest.

Holy leisure has hitherto exercised its arts freely and lawfully. Now is the time for action, because the law has been broken.

That beast, spoken of in the book of the Apocalypse, to whom power has been given to blaspheme and make war on the saints, occupies the See of Peter like a lion ready for its prey.

There is another beast snarling at your side like 'the whelp of a lion that lies hidden in its lair'.1_ The former is more savage, the latter more cunning, and they are both united against the Lord and against his anointed.

Let us set to work at once to 'break away from their bondage, and throw off their yoke'.

2. I for my part, together with other servants of God aflame with the divine fire, am labouring with the help of God ' to assemble the kings and people together ' to break this conspiracy of evil men and destroy

'every height that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God'.

Nor have we laboured in vain.

The Kings of Germany, France, England, Scotland, Spain, and Jerusalem, with all their clergy and people, support and follow the lord Innocent, as sons their father, as members their head, and they zealously preserve unity in the bond of peace.

The Church supports him with good reason, for it has learned that his reputation is more fair and his election more sound, in that his supporters prevailed both in numbers and excellence.

But you, my brother, why do you still stand aloof? How long will you doze in false security while the serpent lies at your side?

I know very well that you are a son of peace and that no possible reason could bring you to leave unity.

But it is not enough to remain passive when unity 1s threatened.

You must defend it and try with all your strength to overthrow those who are disturbing it. Do not fear your loss of peace, it will be rewarded by no small gain in glory if you succeed by your efforts in taming or even silencing that wild beast near you, and if the goodness of God rescues by your hand so great a prize for the Church as William, Count of Poitiers.?

LETTER 129

TO THE BISHOPS OF AQUITAINE, AGAINST GERARD OF ANGOULEME

To his Lords and Honoured Fathers, by the grace of God holy Bishops of Limoges, Poitiers, Perigueux, and Saintes, constancy in adversity, from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

1 Gerard of Angouléme.

*The same William whom Gerard fearlessly rebuked for adultery.

Eventually he brought over to the side of Innocent by the personal influence of St. Baird y by

TO THE BISHOPS OF AQUITAINE

I9l Co is gained in peace, proved in adversity, and confirmed in victory.

The time has come, most reverend and holy fathers, for you to take courage, if you have any, and bestir yourselves to action.

Once more the sword of the enemy seems to be threatening death to the whole body of Christ, but it is at you that it is being especially pointed, it is over you especially that it is being wheeled.

You have the choice of either strongly resisting these daily attacks upon you or of shamefully yielding to them.

That Diotrephes,! who covets pre-eminence amongst you, has not accepted you and does not recognize him whom the whole Church, together with you, has received aS coming in the name of the Lord.

And no wonder! for even at his time of life he craves for a great name.

In remarking the vanity of this man, I am not being led away by any false or uncertain report; I am judging him by his own words.

In an intimate letter he lately wrote to the chancellery he obsequiously and unworthily begged to be honoured with the burden and prestige of legate.

Would that he had got it. Perhaps if his ambition had been satisfied, he would have hurt you less than he does now that it has been frustrated.

He would then have only harmed himself or almost only himself.

Now he rages against the whole world.

You see what love of glory can do? The office of legate is a burden even to more youthful shoulders than his.

All the world knows this.

Yet here is a very old man who finds it an agony to spend even the few days that remain to him without this burden.

2. Perhaps he would argue that I am judging him on grounds of mere suspicion and that I have no right to blame him for the secrets of his heart which I cannot know and of which I cannot have any proof.

I confess I am suspicious in this matter and I do not know whether even the greatest simpleton could judge otherwise than I have of a matter that is so obvious.

To refer briefly to a perfectly unmistakable action of his: the first thing he did, or one of the first things, after the election of Pope Innocent, was to write and beg the legateship.

When this was refused to him, in his rage he turned against Innocent and went over to the other man, pluming himself on being his legate.

If he had not first asked for the legateship from Pope Innocent or if he had afterwards refused to accept it from the other man, I might have believed that he had some other motive for _ his double-dealing, although it could not have been a good one.

But now he has no excuse for his ambition.

Let him lay aside the legateship which he now enjoys, although it is only an empty name without any substance, and I, if I can, will cease to suspect him or, if I cannot prevent myself, I will, at any rate, do so unwillingly and accuse myself of rashness in doing so.

He is a man who has for so long lorded it over others that he is ashamed to hold any place but the 1 Gerard of Angouleme.

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first. We see in him the truth of what the Scriptures say:

' Shame, that is the grace and glory of a man, may yet make a sinner of him'.

And is it not a very great sin, the most grave offence, this proud shame which renders a man not only ashamed to be under others, but even so that he cannot endure not to rule over others?

3. It was because of this and nothing more that the man left him whom he once called ' Holy Father Innocent'

(for that is what he did call him when he wrote to plead for the legateship) and his holy mother the Church, to cleave unto his schismatic, so that they became two in one vanity. They have made a pact together and ' maliciously plot against the people' and ' scale has pressed on scale so as to leave no vent between'.

He calls him ' Pope' in return for being himself called 'legate', that 'by their vanity they may together deceive'.

They comfort each other, support each other, and advocate each other, but each for their own sakes and not for the sake of the other.

They are men in love with themselves.

With equal zeal they "make common cause against the Lord and against the King he has anointed', but with very different intentions.

They support each other in seeking their own interests and (what is shocking) they do so at the expense of Christ's heritage.

What else are they trying to do before our very eyes, but banish Christ?

Even now the legate wants new bishops for his Pope, so that he shall not be alone in his support of him.

He does not wait until the sees become vacant by death, but, supported by tyrannical power, he intrudes men into sees while the bishops are still alive, taking opportunity for this of the spite of secular princes who are persecuting their bishops for motives of personal hatred:

'He agrees with the rich to lie in wait at dark corners and kill the man who never wronged him'.

By such a door he enters the sheepfold.

4. We must not think that all this activity of the legate on behalf of his Pope is disinterested.

He boasts that he has added the whole of France and Burgundy to his legatine jurisdiction.

If he wants he can add Media, Persia, and the coasts of Decapolis!

In fact there is no reason why he should not extend his empty jurisdiction over Samaria or, indeed, anywhere his feet have trodden!

A man as stupid as he is conceited.

A man void of both the fear of God and selfrespect.

He thinks that no one notices his absurd ambition when, in fact, he is the laughing stock of all those around him.

And this is nothing to wonder at for he uses the sanctuary as a market place and, like some fussy businessman out for quick returns and searching everywhere for the cheapest market, he anxiously seeks high and low for ecclesiastical dignities, finally choosing for himself a Pope who will consent to his being legate.

Where does he get this privilege? Who gave him this prerogative?

Does he possess the sanctuary of God by inheritance? Why does he accuse Pope Innocent of being in schism?

He was his * Holy Father ' so long as there was the slightest chance of

TO THE BISHOPS OF AQUITAINE

securing from him the favour he had the effrontery to ask for.

His papal dignity and holiness vanished at. the same time as his vain hope for the legateship. How wonderful that in so short a time sweet and bitter waters could flow from the same source!

Yesterday Pope Innocent was holy and Catholic and the Supreme Pontiff, but to-day he is a wicked and schismatic disturber of the peace!

Yesterday he was Holy Father Pope Innocent, but to-day he is simply Gregory, Cardinal Deacon of Sant' Angelo!

So from a double heart out of one mouth come two contradictory statements:

'False hearts and treacherous lips'. How can there be any reserve or self-respect in a man whose conscience is thus ruled by his desires and whose tongue is forked, saying first "Yes" and then 'No'? How can anyone, according to the words of the Apostle, ' study his behaviour not only in the Lord's sight, but in the sight of men ', if, like the unjust judge, he neither fears God nor respects man?

5. It is quite certain that when ambition bursts out into blatancy it defeats its own purpose; that when it brazenly reveals itself, it loses its power to accomplish its purpose.

Ambition is the mother of hypocrisy and prefers to skulk in corners and dark places.

It cannot endure the light of day.

It is an unclean vice wallowing in the depths, always hidden, but with ever an eye to advancement.

And no wonder for, if it does not hide itself, it will always fail in its purpose.

The more we are seen to want honours, the less likely are we to achieve them; what can be more dishonourable in a bishop than the desire for honours?

The true Christian only glories in the cross of Christ.

The ambitious man is only esteemed so long as he hides his purpose and walks by night. The hypocrite will seem holy and just to men only so long as his desire for filthy lucre is hidden in the shadows.

But when, through impudence or imprudence, he happens to show what is skulking in his heart, his unrestrained desires will lead the more readily to his confusion for being so obviously set upon honours.

And so the truth of those words are proved:

* Their own shameful doings are their pride, whose minds are set upon earthly things', and: "If I seek my own honour, my honour is nothing '.

And on such persons the curse which, unless I am mistaken, the Prophet calls down on hypocrites, is fulfilled:

' Let them be like the stalks on a housetop that wither there unharvested'.

Men have not so lost all sense of propriety that they can esteem blatant and unashamed ambition, especially when it is evident in an elderly priest in whom childish vanity is all the more unbecoming since gravity and holiness are proper to his age and position.

And, even if some flatterer should fawn before his face, nevertheless everyone will laugh behind his back.

But there is a restrained sort of ambition which works cautiously though none the less equivocally.

In order to succeed it keeps itself hidden and takes shelter under cover of propriety.

Such a man,

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

although he does not fear God unto salvation, has a certain natural delicacy and retains for a time some modesty, because he fears the opinion of others and is ashamed to show himself in public.

6. What else is it but foolhardy and shameless, this desire to lord it over others so that a man spares neither his old age nor respects his priesthood in order to secure for himself a temporary legateship.

The side of Christ, which redeemed the people in the unity of faith by pouring forth blood and water, he tears open again; and by dividing those whom Christ saved by uniting, he makes himself not a Christian but Antichrist, guilty of the cross and death of Christ.

What impatient and unbridled desire for gain! What unrestrained greed!

What blind and shameless greed!

First quite openly and brazenly, as I have said, and he does not deny, he proceeds to assail the Holy See with a petition sufficiently unworthy of himself; and then smarting under his repulse, he immediately turns to the schismatic and, when he has sacrilegiously received from him the power he wrongly desired, he is not afraid once more to wound the side of the Lord of glory.

He tears asunder the Church for which the side of Christ was torn.

But the day will come when he shall see him whom he has thus pierced.

The Lord when he comes to give judgement will recognize him from whom he now patiently suffers.

When 'to every wronged soul he gives redress', when he ' rights the wrongs of the defenceless ', is he likely to turn a deaf ear to his beloved bride, the Church, appearing © boldly to meet her old persecutors, that thwarted all her striving'?

No! he will not be able to be deaf to her complaint:

'Friends and neighbours that meet me keep their distance now, old companions shun me.

I am assailed by enemies that grudge me life itself.'

How should he not recognize the bone of his bone and the flesh of his flesh, yea rather already, by then, the spirit of his spirit?

Is she not that beloved one whose beauty he has loved so well, whose form he adopted, whom with wonderful condescension he held in loving and chaste embraces, so that they were two in one flesh, to be united forever hereafter in one spirit? And she, although she had

'known Christ according to the flesh, now she will know him so no longer ', because before her face he shall be a spirit and it shall be Christ the Lord.

When death is swallowed up in victory, when that which is weak in the flesh shall vanquish in the power of the spirit, when her

Bridegroom shall show her to himself as his glorious, perfect, and beautiful dove, having no stain of sin or wrinkle of corruption, then shall she be united to him in oneness of spirit.

7. While I linger so willingly over these things I become forgetful of my subject:

* redeeming the time because the days are evil' and carried away by my thoughts, but I am brought back by the urgency of my subject, and forced to abandon the pleasant prospects which my thoughts have conjured up to bewail the sad state of our present

TO THE BISHOPS OF AQUITAINE

condition.

This enemy of the cross has had the audacity to drive from their seats the holt men who refuse to fall down and worship the beast who opens his mouth to utter blasphemies and blasphemes the name of God in his tabernacle.

He tries to set up altar against altar, to banish what is right and establish what is wrong.

He strives to impose abbots over abbots and bishops over bishops, to exile Catholics and impose schismatics in their place.

Pitiable and to be pitied are those who consent to receive promotion from such a man.

He encompasses sea and land to make one bishop and, when he has made him, he renders him a child of hell twice as bad as himself. What, think you, is the reason for all this frenzy?

No other, surely, than that he does not like that distinction the angels made when they announced glory to God and peace to men.

So by arrogating to himself the glory that belongs to God, he disturbs the peace that belongs to men.

To him alone belongs glory "who does wonderful deeds as none else' and, as the Apostle says, "to him alone be honour and glory'.

As for us men, we ought to consider ourselves mercifully treated and very fortunate, if we are permitted to enjoy the peace of God and peace with God.

But how can the peace of men before God and with God possibly endure if God cannot be sure of his glory amongst men?

How foolish are the sons of Adam to lose both peace and glory by despising peace and craving for glory!

For this very reason has the 'God who takes vengeance' 'shaken and torn the land asunder ', for this very reason has he ' made us witness cruel sights, such a draught as to make our senses reel '.

8. Whether we like it or not, the truth of the Holy Spirit must be fulfilled; the scandals foretold in the Scriptures must come to pass.

But woe to the man through whom they come!

It would have been better for him had he never been born.

And who else can he be but that man of sin who, notwithstanding that a Catholic had been canonically elected by Catholics, invaded the holy place, which he wanted, not because it was a holy place, but because it was the highest place. He invaded it, I say, and he invaded it with arms, with fire and with bribes, not by the merits and virtues of his life.

And he has arrived there, and he stands there, by the same means that brought him there.

That election of his supporters of which he makes so much, was not an election but a faction, a mere shadow and excuse, a cover for his malice.

It could be called an election of a sort, but to do so were an impudent lie. The authentic decree of the Church still holds: after the first election there cannot be a second.

When the first election has taken place, a second one is no election at all, it is completely null.

Even if the first election did take place with less solemnity and order than the second, as the enemies of unity contend, how can anyone presume on holding a second without first discussing the manner of the former and suppressing it by judgement.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

For this reason whoever hastens to thrust himself forward and rashly to lay hands upon a usurper, in spite of the Apostolic injunction:

'Do not inconsiderately lay hands on anyone', they, I say, have the greater sin, they are the authors of the schism, they are the principals of this great mischief.

9. And now they demand judgement which they ought to have waited for before acting. Now they are prepared to offer a tardy justice which they had the opportunity of doing at the proper time, so that if you now refuse they will appear to have right on their side, and if you accept something may turn up favourable, during the delay caused by the disputes of the two parties.

Or do they despair of their cause and believe that things could not be worse for them than they are, however their case is decided?

They say that whatever may have happened in the past, all they want now is a hearing and that they are prepared to abide by the results.

This is a mere subterfuge.

What else is there left for them to do, what else can they do better calculated to confuse the simple, arm the evilly disposed, and palliate their own malice?

What else but this could they say? But God has already judged the case which man is trying to re-open too late, and he has judged it by the evidence of the facts, not by the wording of some decree.

Can any man be so rash as to dare to change the judgement of God?

Will not God cry out in accusation: "Men have taken away my right of judgement'.t

' Counsel is none that can be matched against God's will."

'His word runs swift' in bringing the people and kings together in one that they may serve and obey Pope Innocent.

Who can appeal against this?

It is recognized as the judgement of God by Walter of Ravenna, Hildegard of Tarragona, Norbert of Magdeburg, Conrad of Salzburg, Archbishops.

It is known and accepted as the judgement of God by the Bishops Equipert of Miinster, Hildebrand of Pistoia, Bernard of Pavia,

Landulf of Asti, Hugh of Grenoble, and Bernard of Parma.

The singular prestige, the outstanding sanctity and authority of these prelates, respected even by their enemies, have easily persuaded me, who occupy a lower position both in office and virtue, to follow them whether right or wrong.

I do not mention the great multitude of others, the archbishops and bishops of Tuscany, Campania, Lombardy,

Germany, Aquitaine, of France too and all Spain, as well as the whole Eastern Church, whose names are in the book of life (but cannot find a place in a short letter).?

10. All these men, with one accord, with no inducement of money, undeceived by any fallacy, not led by considerations of human relationship, nor under duress from the civil power, but with eyes fully open to God's will, which they perceive most clearly, reject Peter Leonis,

1 Doct. SS. Pat.

* The authenticity of the phrase in parenthesis is ope to question.

TO THE BISHOPS OF AQUITAINE

and without any hesitation acclaim Gregory as Pope Innocent.

Of our own prelates I do not mention one in this letter, because there is not space to mention all; and to mention some would be invidious and expose me to suspicions of flattery.

But I ought not to pass over those holy men who, being dead to this world, lead a better life to God alone; whose life is hid with Christ in glory, where they zealously seek and, doubtless, find what is the pleasure of God, and whose only care is to please him.

Of these the Camaldolese, Vallambrosians, Carthusians, Cluniacs, brethren of Marmoutiers, my own Cistercians, the brethren of Caen, Tiron, and Savigny, in a word all the brethren, both secular and regular, with unanimous consent, adhere to Innocent, sincerely approve of him, humbly obey him, and loyally recognize him as the true successor of the Apostles.

11. What about the kings and princes of the world, are they not united in the same spirit together with their subject peoples, acclaiming

Innocent and confessing that he is the Pope and Bishop of their souls?

What man is there of good repute and illustrious in any rank of life who does not believe the same?

And yet those people, with I know not what contentious importunity and importunate contentiousness, still cry out in contradiction.

They call the whole world to judgement and, few as they are, they are yet anxious that the whole universe should be judged.

Having been over hasty in their election, they endeavour to re-open the case in order to have their position confirmed.

First they acted recklessly, and now they want to undo what they have done.

But who could bring together such a great army of princes, ecclesiastical and lay, not to speak of the people, so as to submit the matter to their judgement? Who would have the power to persuade so many thousands of holy men to pull down what they have built up and thus place themselves in a false position?

Then what place could be found large enough and safe enough for so great a multitude?

It is a matter that concerns the whole Church and not just the cause of a private person.

You see they have made an impossible suggestion, so as to provide an occasion for calumniating their mother the Church.

But, in fact, they have dug a pit for themselves into which they will be thrown, they have contrived a snare in which they themselves shall be caught, so as never to return to the bosom of their mother, the Church.

A pretext is never lacking to him who would break with a friend.

12. But let it be so.

Let us grant, for the sake of argument, that God may change his decision, call a council together from the ends of the earth, and suffer the matter to be judged twice over.

Whom, in such a case, would they choose as judges?

All have taken sides in the matter and would not easily agree upon a judgement.

Such a council would be rent by faction and led to even more quarrelling rather than to peace.

Then I should like to know to whom that schismatic would entrust Rome which, after having desired it for so

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

long, he has at last got into his clutches at great labour and expense, and which he possesses with such great pride and would be so ashamed to lose.

If he should lose his suit but not his city, the whole world would have assembled for nothing. Why, otherwise, should Pope

Innocent, who has been despoiled of everything, enter upon the cause?

Neither the laws nor the canons oblige him to do so. I say this, not because I doubt the justice of our cause, but because I distrust the cunning of our adversaries.

'The Lord has made his justice as clear as light and his judgement as the noonday ' although the light is not seen by the blind man nor does the midday sun shine upon him, because for him ' light and dark are as one'.

13. The question is this: which of these two men seems to be the Pope?

There is a great difference between the two persons but, so as not to seem to flatter or abuse either, I will say what you will find being said everywhere and what I do not think anyone will deny, namely that the character and good name of Innocent need fear no comparison with that of his adversary, while his is not safe even amongst his friends.

Then if you examine the elections you will at once see that ours is more honest, more creditable, and the first in time.

The two first points are proved by the virtues and dignity of the electors, and the last is obvious.

You will find, I cannot doubt, that this election was made by the more reputable of the electors.

There are the Cardinal Bishops and Priests and Deacons and a sufficient number of those who are especially concerned in the election of a Pope to render it valid according to the decrees of the Fathers.

But what about the consecration?

Did we not have the Bishop of Ostia, to whom the consecration of a Pope especially appertains?

Since then the person elected is the more worthy, the election more honest and regular, what reason or what pretext have these people to try and depose him and, against all right and justice and the wish of all good men, against the will of the Church of God, to set up another over and above him?

14. It must be clear, most reverend and illustrious fathers, that it is our solemn duty to resist with all our might this malicious, unworthy, and rash effort.

This is a matter that concerns every child of God, but it especially concerns you and yours, if you are really devoured by zeal for the house of God.

You, I say, and yours especially, must watch and pray lest you give way to temptation.

And there is especial need of strength and caution in that quarter where the enemy are pressing hardest and bringing the major part of their forces to bear.

You know from your own experience how savage and cunning is the enemy.

Alas! how great is the spite with which he has acted in your neighbourhood, raging with the twin arms of malice, force and cunning.

But can malice ever conquer wisdom finally? Now is his time and the time of the powers of darkness.

But it is his last hour, and his power will soon pass away.

Do not be afraid, but do

TO WILLIAM, COUNT OF POITIERS

not let yourselves be deceived.

Christ, the power and wisdom of God, is with you always, he is on your side.

Be confident for he has overcome the world.

He is faithful and will not allow you to be tried beyond your strength.

You see the fool firmly rooted now, but the time will come when you will see his beauty wither under the curse of God.

The Lord will not for long allow ' the rule of sinners in the domain of the just'. But now it is your duty to watch and to take care, as becomes your office, that your good people ' do not soil their hands with guilt'.

NOTE In the Benedictine Edition (No. 127) there is a letter to William, Count of Poitiers and Duke of Aquitaine, said to have been written by St. Bernard in the name of Hugh, Duke of Burgundy.

It is addressed to the same Count of Poitiers mentioned in Letter 128.

He took the side of the Anti-pope under the influence of Gerard of Angouléme.

He was finally converted by a personal meeting with St. Bernard.

It is hard to understand why St. Bernard was thought to have written this letter.

Nothing in it, but the sentiments, belongs to the saint.

It is a brief exhortation to abandon Anacletus and embrace the cause of Innocent.

The blameless life and character of the latter are enlarged upon.

LETTER 130

TO WILLIAM, COUNT OF POITIERS AND DUKE OF AQUITAINE

HAVE not forgotten, most excellent Prince, how I lately left your I presence full of good will towards you, and determined to do all in my power to help you and yours, by neglecting no opportunity for promoting your spiritual and temporal welfare.

I left you thus disposed, because my visit had not been fruitless.

Contrary to the expectations of many, and much to everyone's delight, I had been able to bring away from you an assurance of your peaceful intentions towards the Church.

But now you have not scrupled to arouse again the wrath of God against you, even more than before, by expelling the clergy of St. Hilary from their city, greatly to the harm of the Church.

I cannot but wonder by what advice, and under whose influence, that wonderful ' change of the right hand of the Most High' in you, should suddenly have been changed again for the worse.

Who can have beguiled you to leave so soon the path of salvation and truth?

Whoever it is shall surely bear his judgement.

'Would that they should be cut off, these authors of unrest.'

Turn back, I pray you, turn back, or you too will be cut off.

Turn back, I say, and restore peace to your friends and their church to your clergy, or you will irrevocably alienate him ' that is feared by awestruck princes, feared amongst the kings of the earth'.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 131

TO THE PEOPLE OF GENOA

To the Consuls, Councillors, and all the people of Genoa, peace, health, and eternal life, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

M* visit to you last year was not fruitless, as the Church, in whose service I came, was soon to discover in the hour of her need.

You received me with honour and you tried to persuade me to stay longer.

This was more than one in my humble sphere deserved, but it did you great credit, and I have not forgotten it and am not ungrateful.

Only God can reward you, and I pray that he may do so, for it was in his name that you received me.

What have I to offer you for the honour you did me, but my good will and affection, my love and gratitude?

I could not believe myself worthy of your applause, but I appreciated the devotion it showed.

What joyous days those were, I only wish I could have stayed longer!

Never shall I forget you, O faithful people, noble race, glorious state of Genoa!

" Evening, morn, and noon ', like the Prophet, "I cried aloud and made my plea known to you' and your readiness to listen was matched only by my love of the listeners.

I brought to you words of peace and, finding you the sons of peace, I left my peace with you.

I went forth to sow seed, God's seed, not mine, and the good seed I sowed fell on good ground yielding a hundredfold with wonderful speed, because the necessity was great.

I experienced no difficulty or delay, but almost on one and the same day I both sowed and reaped, * returning with joy as I carried with me the sheaves' of peace.

And this was the harvest I reaped: a joyous hope of release and home for men in captivity, chains, and prison; and fear for our enemies, disgrace for the schismatics, glory for the Church, and great joy for everyone.

2. Nothing now remains, dear friends, but for me to encourage you to continue as you have begun.

Is it not only by perseverance that men earn their glory, and virtues their reward?

Clearly without it there can be no victory for the soldier or honour for the victor.

It is the backbone of character, and the crown of virtue; it is the mother of merits and mediator of rewards.

It is the sister of patience, the daughter of endurance, the friend of peace, the link of friendship, the bond of concord, and the bulwark of holiness.

Take away perseverance and service will be without reward, kindness without favour, and valour without renown.

It is not the man who begins, but the man who perseveres unto the end that shall be saved.

Saul, when he was but a child in his own eyes, was set up over Israel; but he lost both his kingdom and his life through not persevering in humility.

If Samson had persevered cautious and Solomon devout, the former would not have lost his strength and the latter would have kept his

TO THE PEOPLE OF PISA

wisdom.

I exhort and pray you to hold firmly on to this mark of the highest honour, this sole reliable protection of integrity.

Keep carefully the words you heard eagerly. Remember that Herod was glad to hear John, but he would have been better off had he observed what he heard as gladly as he had listened.

Happy are those who not only 'hear the word' but also 'keep it'.

3. Preserve peace with your brothers of Pisa, faith with the lord Pope, loyalty to the King, and honour amongst yourselves.

This is desirable, becoming, and just.

I have heard that you have received messengers from Count Roger of Sicily, but I do not know what the brought or with what they returned.

To tell the truth, in the eats of the poet 'I fear the Greeks when they come with gifts'.1_

If you should find that anyone amongst you has been so depraved as to have held out his hand for filthy lucre, take prompt cognizance of the matter and judge him as an enemy of your good name and a traitor, as one who has not scrupled to barter the honour and honesty of the commune.

If you should discover anyone trying to sow discord amongst you by whispers, anyone assuming the rdle of the devil, who is ever a lover and author of strife, by disturbing your peace, meet the evil at once by the remedy of a severe judgement, for an evil is the more dangerous the more deeply it is in our midst.

A hostile army can lay waste our lands and destroy our houses, but ' bad company corrupts good manners ',? a little leaven is enough to leaven the whole.

Sow, plant, and contrive, not only that you do not fall again into your old evil ways, but that you even make amends for them by good works, for it is written: "A man's wealth may be his own life's ransom', and again: ' Give alms and at once all that is yours becomes clean'.

If you must go to war, if you wish to prove your valour by a contest in arms, do not fight your neighbours and friends.

It were better for you to work off your warlike spirit by subduing the enemies of the Church and defending your own honour against the Sicilians.

From them your booty would be more honourably gained and more justly held.

May the peace and love of God abide with you always.

LETTER 132

TO THE PEOPLE OF PISA

To my friends the Consuls, Councillors, and Citizens of Pisa, health, peace, and eternal life, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

W AAy God befriend you and remember the loyal service, the lovin M compassion, consolation, and reverence you showed and st show to the bride of his Son in her time of difficulty, in the days of her

1 Virgil, Acneid, 2.49.

2 Menander.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

tribulation.

And indeed this my prayer is already being fulfilled in part, is already bearing fruit, a fitting award is being quickly allotted to you.! By choosing you out to be his own people, by setting you apart quite for himself, as a people ambitious of noble deeds, God is already showing you the favour your conduct has deserved.

Pisa has been raised to the status of Rome, it has been chosen out from all the cities of the world to be the stronghold? of the Apostolic See.

This is not a matter of chance or human prudence, it is the providence of heaven, the gracious favour of God towards those who "have earned his love by loving him'.

He has said to Innocent his anointed: 'Here let thy dwelling be, and I shall bless it.

Here will be my dwelling place, here my destined home.

With my support the Pisans stand firm under the attacks of the Sicilian tyrant, not shaken by threats, enticed by bribes, or hoodwinked by cunning.' O citizens of Pisa, * favour indeed the Lord has shown you, and our hearts are rejoiced'.

Is there a city that does not envy you? Keep safe what has been entrusted to you, loyal city, recognize the favour that has been shown you, and try never to be found ungrateful.

Reverence him who is your father and the father of the whole world, reverence the secular princes and the judges of the earth who are amongst you.

They bring great glory, splendour, and fame to you.

Otherwise, 'If thou knowest not thyself, O fairest amongst cities, thou shalt follow with the shepherds' flocks, and feed those goats of thine beside thy dwellings'.

A word is enough to the wise.

I commend to you the Marquis Engelbert, who has been sent to help the Pope and his friends.

He is a strong and active young man and, unless I am mistaken, loyal.

Let my recommendation win for him your favour, especially because I have spoken very well of you to him and have advised him to defer to your wishes.

LETTER 133

TO LOUIS © LE GROS ', KING OF FRANCE

On November 8th, 1134, Pope Innocent promulgated a bull, convoking a Council at Pisa for May 26th of the following year.

For some reason, Louis 'le Gros' was not at all favourably disposed towards the project.

It is not easy to understand why this was so.

He may have been jealous of the Emperor Lothair, or his amour propre may have been injured in some way by the Pope.

In any case he forbade the French bishops to attend the Council on grounds that the heat would be too great.

This called forth the following letter from St. Bernard, and Louis was sufficiently mollified to withdraw his ban on the Council.

1 digna plane retributio celeri jam compensatt:

' i € ensatiir effectu.

Eales: ' Conduct that deserves a re has already met with rapid recompense '.

Age * ad Apostolice Sedis culmen eligitur. ales: als ". .

. is chosen to be the home of the Apostolic

TO LOUIS "LE GROS', KING OF FRANCE

To the most excellent Louis, King of France, and to his beloved wife and children, Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux, sends health from the King of kings and Lord of lords. ee kingdoms of this world and their prerogatives will certainly only remain sound and unimpaired for their lords so long as they do not contravene the divine ordinances and dispositions.

Why, my lord, does your wrath rage against the elect of God, whom your Highness has also received and chosen as a father for yourself, as well as a Samuel for your son?!

Your royal fury is arming itself, not against a stranger, but against yourself and your family. How well do the Scriptures say: 'The anger of man worketh not the righteousness of God ', for it not only renders you insensible to the damage you are doing to your own interests and honour, but it also often blinds you to what everyone else can see is dangerous to yourself.

A Council has been convoked.

What is there in this to detract from your royal honour or menace your royal interests?

There it will be commemorated and remembered how you, with a ready and special devotion to the universal Church, were the first of all the kings, or among the first, to set forth as a Christian in strong defence of your mother against the rabid fury of her persecutors.

There the thanks which are due to you will be rendered by the assembled multitude.

There prayers will be offered up for you and yours by a thousand holy men.

2. No one is ignorant that a council of all the bishops is most necessary at this time, unless it be some hard-hearted individual who pays no attention to the straightened circumstances of the Church.

You say the heat will be too great.

We are not made of ice!

Or is it that our hearts are frozen within us, so that, in the words of the Prophet, 'there is none who care for the ruin of Joseph'.

But of this another time.

Now I, who of your subjects am the least in dignity, though not in fidelity, tell you that it is not desirable for you to try and hinder such a great and necessary good as this Council will be.

I have very good reasons for saying this which would make the matter quite clear to you, and I would state them more fully were

I not convinced that I have already said enough for a wise man such as you are.

But if the Apostolic See has, in its severity, issued decrees which have deservedly troubled your royal serenity, then all your loyal subjects who are present at the Council will endeavour with all their power to have them changed or revoked in accordance with your honour.

Amongst these I too will not hesitate to do anything I can.

1 A reference to the consecration of Louis le Jeune at Rheims in 1131.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 134

TO THE CLERGY OF MILAN

ay you be blessed by the Lord for, by your zeal and energy, your M city has been cleansed of error, and has abandoned schism in order to return to Catholic unity.

The glad tidings has gone abroad among Catholics, Sion has heard and rejoiced, and you have honour before God and men.

How happy was the Church to have received to her bosom so large a multitude of worthy sons for whom she had been grieving as lost!

With what a glad and serene countenance God, your Father, has received this sacrifice of your hands!

Now, as the sons of peace, you must work for the peace of the world.

I shall come to you as you have asked me, because I wish to share and partake in your joy, and I shall bring with me your messengers, my dear brothers.

Then I shall try, according to the pleasure of God, to explain those matters of which you have written fully and reasonably.

But, as the time in which I have to hasten to the Council is short, I hope it will not inconvenience you to wait until my return.

LETTER 734

TO SOME NOVICES LATELY CONVERTED AT MILAN

The following letter was written by the saint in reply to a message from certain persons in Milan who wished to become Cistercians.

St. Bernard visited them on his return from the Council of Pisa, which ended on June 6th,

1135.

This led to the foundation of the first Cistercian house in Italy, known as Chiaravalle Milanese, * Clairvaux of the Milanese'.

To his most dear brothers at Milan, lately turned to God, a spirit prudent and strong that they may bring to a worthy conclusion what they have begun so well, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

LESSED be God who has enabled you to despise the glory of the B world so that he might give you his own.

'How empty are those sons of Adam, light weight as false coin in the scales', who, in the words of the Gospel, ' seek glory from one another, and do not want the glory which God alone can give.' They are deceived by their own vanity.

But with you it is not so.

From this reproach the divine mercy has freed you, so that in every place you might be 'a sweet fragrance of Christ unto God ', for his own glory, for the delight of angels, and for an example to men.

If there is joy in heaven over one sinner who repents, how much greater joy will there be over the conversion of so many men like you of such a great city as yours.

Stirred by my joy and invited by the most dear brothers, Otto and

TO PETER, BISHOP OF PAVIA

Ambrose, whom you had sent for this purpose, I had determined to come to you with them.

But believing it better not to come for just a short time in passing, I have decided to put off my visit until

Iam on my way back from Pisa.

I am now on my way there and, by God's help, I shall return by you, so as to forward your holy intentions by such counsel and help as I can give.

LETTER 136

TO PETER, BISHOP OF PAVIA

There were two Bishops of Pavia of this name.

The following letter was addressed to the first of the two, who was elected about the year 1130.

F good seed sown on good soil seems to have brought forth fruit, I the glory belongs to him who gave the seed to the sower, the fertility to the soil, and the life to the seed.

What part have we in all this?

Certainly I will not give to anyone else the glory which belongs to Christ, still less will I take it for myself.

' The perfect law of the Lord brings souls back to life, not I. The Lord's unchangeable decrees make the simple learned, not I.' The credit for good writing belongs to the writer, and not to the pen.

It is much if I can claim for myself that 'my tongue is the ready pen of a swift writer'.

What credit, you ask, have the feet of them who bring good tidings? Much in every way.

First, they are the children of their heavenly Father and do not consider the glory they render him of no interest to themselves.

For, being his children, they are also his heirs.

Second, they regard the salvation of their neighbour as they regard their own, for they love their neighbour as themselves.

Third, 'the labour of their lips' cannot be completely lost to them, for ' everyone shall receive a reward according to his labour'.

I did not close my lips but you opened your heart, therefore yours will be the greater reward because you laboured more.

I am quite sure it will not be lost to you that you ' brought out water to meet the thirsty, and bread to meet fleeing men'.

No kindly action, no exhortation whereby the poor, who are the children of Christ, are comforted, is ever without reward.

We are both fellow workers and fellow helpers of God; let us both hope for a reward in the sight of the holy souls.

May God grant that I may never forget you or you me.

LETTER 134

TO POPE INNOCENT

To his most loving father and lord, the Supreme Pontiff Innocent, the humble devotion of Brother Bernard.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

HE opposition of Cremona has hardened, their prosperity is their sli actieners the Milanese have become arrogant, their over-weening self-confidence deceives them.

I am undone and my efforts are frustrated by those who put their trust in horses and chariots.

I was sadly leaving when I received some consolation from you.

Although the trials I endure for the sake of Christ are many, so also are the consolations I receive through him. When I received your welcome letter my heart was gladdened by the assurance it gave of your safety, of the misfortunes of the enemy, and of the successes of our allies.

But when I came to the sad conclusion, my joy was a little damped.

Who would not fear your anger?

I admit that it is reasonable, and therefore all the more to be feared. My opinion is that what has not yet been accomplished, should be done; but in God's good time.

Then you can just as readily do what you intend, and perhaps with less risk.

By intemperate action, how soon could all you have accomplished with these people by the mercy of God, and at the cost of so much labour on the part of yourself and your servants, be reduced to nothing!

And it would be surprising if such an action were to please him who exalts mercy over justice.

Unhappy the lot of that bishop who has been transferred to Ur of the Chaldees from a sort of paradise, 'to have dragons for his brothers, and ostriches for his company'.

What can he do?

He would like to obey you, but the beasts of Ephesus bare tbeir teeth at him.

Very prudently he is trying to disguise his sentiments for the time being, but only to incur thereby the very much more fearful wrath of yourself.

On all sides he is beset by difficulties; unless he should find it more satisfactory to be without a people than without a lord, since he very properly prefers the favour of his Pope to his See of Milan.

Can you doubt his loyalty?

If any evil-minded person has tried to suggest to you the contrary, he only proves himself disloyal by spitefully persecuting with venomous tongue a man of excellent character.

I implore you, most loving father, to have consideration for this most loyal servant of yours, for the work that has only just been started, for this newly planted tree;

I beg you to spare the people who have only lately attached themselves to you and to remember the benefits which, as you rightly say, you have only recently conferred upon them.

Remember, dear lord, those words of your Lord: 'I have been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree for three years, and cannot find any'.

You have waited scarcely three months, and yet you are already preparing the axe!

If you had waited already three years, we would still be entitled to expect a faithful servant of the Lord to wait yet a fourth.

Therefore I say: Let it be for this year and permit him to whom you have entrusted the sterile ground of Milan, to dig it about with the spade of penance, to dung it with his tears, so that he can induce it to bring forth fruit.

TO THE PEOPLE OF MILAN

LETFER: 138

TO THE PEOPLE OF MILAN

I LEARN from your letters that I enjoy some favour with you.

But, as I can find no reason for this in myself, I must attribute it to a gift of God.

I do not refuse the favour of such a great people, on the contrary I willingly accept it, and devotedly embrace with open arms the devotion of so renowned a city, especially now that you have cast aside schism and, to the joy of everyone, returned to the bosom of the Church.

It is a matter of great satisfaction to myself that I should have been invited to negotiate the peace; that, although a poor person of no consequence, I should yet have been asked to assume the réle of ambassador in such an excellent cause.

And I consider it not a little to your honour that you should be ready to be turned to peace with your neighbours by such a person as myself when, as everyone knows, the hostile invasions of many cities have been powerless to force this on you.

I am now hastening to the Council, but I propose to visit you on the way back, so as to experience the good will of which you assure me.

May God who has inspired you thus to trust me grant that you may not do so in vain!

LETTER 139

TO THE EMPRESS OF ROME

Wee I reconciled the Milanese I did not forget your instructions.

Even if you had not mentioned it, I would have borne in mind the interests of yourself and your kingdom, as I always and everywhere do, so far as am able. They were not received back into the favour of the lord Pope and the unity of the Church until they had openly defied and denied Conrad, received our lord Lothair as their master and king, and with all the world acknowledged him as the august

Emperor of Rome; until with their hands upon the Gospels they had promised, according to the wish and command of the lord Pope, that they would make full satisfaction for the injuries they have inflicted in the past.

I give thanks to the divine goodness who has thus laid your enemies at your feet without any of the risks of war or human bloodshed; and I beg that when the time comes for them to seek through the lord Pope, as their mediator in this matter, to be received into your favour, they may experience that leniency which I myself know so well, so that they may not regret having followed good advice and may render you due service and honour. _

It is not fitting that the faithful servants who have worked so hard for your interests should be put to shame.

But put to shame they would be if you were found to be inexorable and were to disappoint the hopes of forgiveness which they have held out to the Milanese.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 140

TO THE PEOPLE OF MILAN

The Milanese, after having been reconciled to Pope Innocent, began again to waver in their allegiance.

In this letter the Abbot of Clairvaux exhorts them to loyalty and reminds them of the unfortunate results of their last rebellion. op has favoured you and the Roman Church has favoured you; he as a father, and she asa mother.

What more could have been done for you, that has not been done already?

You asked that eminent persons might be sent to you from the Curia for the honour of God and yourself, and it was done.t_ You asked that the unanimous election of your venerable Father should be confirmed, and it was done.

You asked that your See might be raised to metropolitan rank,? a thing which the canons deem unlawful, except in cases of great necessity, yet it was permitted.

You asked that your citizens might be released from their bondage to the people of Piacenza, a thing which I am neither willing nor able to pass over, and it was done.

In fact what petition which a daughter could reasonably have asked from a mother has there been even any delay in granting you?

And to crown all, you will soon have the pallium. Now listen to me, renowned people, noble race, glorious city.

Listen to me, I say, who love you and am anxious for your good.

I speak the truth and do not lie to you.

The Roman Church is very forbearing, but nevertheless she is powerful.

I offer you good advice, worthy of attention: do not try too far her forbearance or you will feel her power.

2. But someone may say:

I will show her due reverence, but nothing more.

So be it, do as you say.

If you show the reverence that is due to her, it will be a reverence without reserve, for the Apostolic See, by a unique privilege, is endowed with a full authority over all the Churches of the world.

Anyone who withstands this authority sets his face against the decrees of God.

She can, if she judge it expedient, set up new bishops where, hitherto, there have been none.

Of those which already exist she can put down some and raise up others just as she thinks best; so that, if she deem it necessary, she can raise bishops to be archbishops or the reverse.

She can summon churchmen, no matter how high and mighty they may be, from the ends of the earth and bring them to her presence, not just once or twice, but as often as she sees fit.

Furthermore she is quick to punish disobedience if anyone should try to oppose her wishes.

This you * They had stirred up a schism after the deposition of their Archbishop Anselm.

Guy of Pisa, Matthew of Alba, and Geoffrey, Bishop of Chartres, were the ' eminent persons' sent to reconcile her to the Holy See.

® Milan had always been a Metropolitan See.

But in punishment for schism it was reduced to a suffragan status for a time.

TO HENRY 1, KING OF ENGLAND

have discovered at your cost.

What advantage did you derive from your last rebellion and opposition to which you were unfortunately incited by your false prophets?!

The only result was that, under your suffragans, you were deprived of all your power, honour, and glory.

Who was able to stand up for you against the most just severity of the Apostolic See when, provoked by your excesses, it determined to deprive you of your ancient privileges and cut off your members?

And even to-day you would be lying shamed and stripped had not the Apostolic See been merciful rather than firm with you.

But now, were you to provoke her again, none could save you from far greater penalties.

So be careful that you do not suffer a relapse, because, unless I am very mistaken, you would not find a remedy for the consequences so easily.

If anyone should advise you, to obey in some things but not in others, you should know, since you have experienced once the severity of the Apostolic See, that he is either deceived or a deceiver.

Do what I say, for I do not deceive you.

Be humble and patient because God gives his grace to the humble and the patient inherit the land.

Be careful to keep in the good graces of your mistress and mother now that you have returned to them, and try in future to please her, so that she may be pleased, not only to keep safe for you what she has given back, but even to add what she has not yet given.

LET TER®tar

TO HENRY, KING OF ENGLAND

To Henry, the most illustrious King of England, honour, safety, and peace, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux. tT would be sheer stupidity or ignorance to want to teach you

I anything that concerns your honour.

For this reason it will be enough for me to state my case quite simply, and in few words.

Many words are superfluous to one who easily understands everything. We are on the threshold of the city, delivery is at the gates, justice is on our side; but the Roman soldiers cannot live on such fare.

So we try to please God with the justice of our cause and cower the enemy with our arms, but we lack the bare necessities of life. What you could do to finish the good work you began with that magnificent and gallant reception you gave to the lord Pope Innocent, you would know better than I do.?

1 A reference to the schism and the consequent penalty.

2 Henry had nobly acknowledged Innocent at Chartres and loaded him with presents, some of which he obtained from the Jews.

But it does not appear that he was able to send the help asked for in this letter.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 142

TO THE EMPEROR LOTHAIR

To Lothair, by the grace of God Emperor of Rome and Augustus, the prayers of a sinner for what they are worth, from Bernard, styled

Abbot of Clairvaux.

LESSED be God who has raised you up to be a sceptre of salvation B amongst us for the honour and glory of his name, to restore the Imperial dignity, to support the Church in an evil hour, and finally to work salvation even now upon the earth.

It is his doing that the power of your crown spreads and rises more each day, ever increasing and growing in dignity and splendour before God and men.

And it was certainly by his strength and power that you were able to make such successful progress in the difficult and dangerous journey you undertook for the peace of your kingdom and the liberation of the Church!

You have magnificently achieved the full summit of Imperial dignity and, what is more, the greatness of your soul and faith shone out all the more clearly from your having achieved this with no great show of power.

If the earth trembled and was silent before so tiny an army, how much more will terror seize upon the heart of the enemy when the king begins to show the full strength of his arm!

The goodness of his cause will inspire him and a double necessity will urge him.

It is not any of my business to incite to battle, but I do say, without any hesitation, that it is the concern of a friend of the Church to save her from the mad fury of the schismatics; that it is the duty of Caesar to uphold his own crown against the machinations of that Sicilian usurper.

Just as it is to the injury of Christ that a man of Jewish race" has seized for himself the See of Peter, sO it is against the interests of Caesar that anyone should make himself the King of Sicily.

2. If the double duty of rendering unto God what is God's and unto Caesar what is Caesar's is incumbent upon Caesar, why are the possessions of God at Toul diminished without any gain to Caesar?

It is much to be feared that neglect of trifles will end in the loss of great things. What I refer to is this.

The Church of St. Gengulphus in that city is, so I hear, being grievously and most unjustly oppressed.

And I have heard that you, deceived by some cunning trap of the enemy, prevented the lord Pope from interfering when he was prepared to see that justice was done.

I advise and implore you to 1 This is the journey undertaken by Lothair, on the advice of St. Bernard, from Germany to Rome, in order to place Innocent on the throne and in turn to receive from him the Imperial

Crown.

As the Anti-pope held St. Peter's and all the strongholds in Rome, this took place in the Lateran.

* The father of Peter Leonis was a converted Jew.

TO THE EMPEROR LOTHAIR

be more prudent.

Remove your opposition and permit justice to be done before that Church is quite destroyed.

I am but an insignificant person, but I am your friend, so that, if I should seem importunate, it is perhaps because of that.

I send my devoted greetings in Christ to her Imperial Royal Highness the Empress.

LETTER 143

TO THE SAME

WONDER at whose instigation or advice you have allowed yourself to be so hoodwinked that a people who have, beyond any doubt, deserved of you a double honour, should have been treated quite to the contrary.

I refer to the Pisans who were the first and, at one time, the only people to stand out in defence of the Empire. How much better it would have been if the royal wrath had flamed up against those who dared to take any occasion they could for attacking a bold and devoted people, at a moment too when they had set out in their thousands to encounter the tyrant, avenge the injury inflicted on their territory, and defend the interests of the imperial crown.

I may very aptly apply to this people what was said of David, and ask you, ' What city of thine was ever so loyal as Pisa; one who ever does thy errands, obedient to thy commands?'

These were the men who raised the siege of Naples and put to flight your only powerful enemy.

These were the men who, wonderful to say, at one attack overcame Amalfi, Ravello, Scala, and Atrani, all rich and well protected cities, hitherto reputed impregnable by all who had tried to take them.

How much more right and fitting, how much more reasonable and just it would have been had the territory of these loyal men been protected from hostile invasion, at any rate while they were engaged on these campaigns, both out of respect for the presence of the Supreme Pontiff whom they sheltered and served with great honour, and still do, when he was exiled from Rome, and in the interests of the Emperor in whose service they themselves were suffering banishment at that time?

But the contrary has happened.

Those who were hostile to you have met with favour from you, and those who were loyal have incurred your wrath.

Perhaps you did not know.

But now that you do know, it is vital and, what is more, only right and proper that you should change your attitude both in word and in deed towards these people.

Let them receive from you in future the royal favour and liberality to which they are entitled.

How well have the Pisans deserved of you, and how much they could still do for your interests!

But a word is enough for a wise man.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 144

TO THE MONKS OF CLAIRVAUX

To his dear brethren at Clairvaux, monks, lay-brothers, and novices, a lasting joy in the Lord, from Brother Bernard. ouR own experience can tell you how much I am suffering.

If Wear absence is irksome to you, you can be sure it is much more so to me.

You are suffering from the absence of one person, but I am suffering from the absence of each and all of you, and this is something quite different and much more hard to bear.

I cannot but have as many anxieties as I have sons at Clairvaux; I cannot but fear for the safety, and grieve for the absence of each one of you.

This twofold grief will never leave me until I am restored to you, for you are part of my life.

I have no doubt of what you are feeling for me, but I am only one person.

You have only one reason for your grief, but I have many because I grieve for each of you.

It is not only that I am obliged, for the time being, to live away from you, when even to be king would be but a sorry servitude without you; but also because I am forced to move in affairs that trouble the peace of my soul, and are not perhaps very compatible with my vocation.

2. As you know all this you ought to sympathize with me and not be angry at my delay which the needs of the Church render necessary.

Indeed I hope that my presence here may not be necessary for very much longer, but you must pray that it may bring forth fruit. We must reckon as gain the loss we suffer, for it is all in the cause of God.

He can easily make good, and more than make good, what we lose, for he loves us and is all-powerful.

So we must be of good cheer for God is with us and, no matter how great the distance which seems to separate us, we can always be united to each other in him.

Any of you who are well disposed, humble, reverent, zealous in reading, attentive in prayer, fervent in fraternal charity, can be quite sure I am not far away from them.

How could I not be present in spirit to those with whom I am thus united in heart and soul?

But if there should be any one amongst you scheming, double-faced, erumbling, rebellious, insubordinate, restless and flighty, or unblushingly eating the bread of idleness, then even though I were present to such a one in body, yet my spirit would be far from him, in manner of life if not in material space, because he would be alienating himself from God.

3. In the meantime, dear brothers, serve God with fear until I return, so that the time may come at last when, delivered from the hand of the enemy, you may serve him without fear.

Serve him with

TO THE CISTERCIAN ABBOTS IN CHAPTER AT CITEAUX

hope, because he is faithful in his promises.

Serve him thankfully, because he has claims on our gratitude.

He has every right to claim that we should devote our lives to him, if for no other reason than that he gave his own life for us.

Who is better entitled to my life than he who gave his that I might live, than he who has purchased for me eternal life at the cost of his own?

And whom can it be more necessary for me to serve, than him who threatens me with everlasting fires?

But I serve him willingly because charity sets me free.

To this willing service I exhort you, dearest brethren.

Serve him with the * charity which has no room for fear', for which nothing is too much, which looks for no reward, and which yet impels as nothing else can.

No fear has the same power to spur us on, no reward can so attract us, no sense of obligation can demand so much of us.

Let this be the bond between us, by this let me be ever present to you, especially at the hours of prayer, dearest brothers.

LETTER 145

TO THE CISTERCIAN ABBOTS IN CHAPTER AT CITEAUX

EAK in body and (God knows) anxious of heart I write to you— W: wretched man, born to labour, but yet your brother.

Would that I might merit to have the Holy Spirit, in whose name you are come together, as my advocate to impress upon your hearts the misfortunes from which I suffer, to portray to your loving eyes the picture of myself sad and on my knees before you.

It is not my prayer that he should create in you a new spirit of pity, for I know how habitual to you is that virtue.

But I do pray that you may understand from the bottom of your hearts how badly I need your pity. Then I am sure tears would well up from the fount of your love, and that with sighs and groans you would storm the gates of heaven so that God should hear you and have pity on me and say: 'Go back to your brothers, you shall die amidst your own and not amidst strangers '.

I am afflicted by so many labours and worries that life itself often becomes a burden to me.

To speak in a human way because of Py great weakness, I desire to be spared until I can return, so that I shall not die until I am with you.!

For the rest, dear brothers, ' amend your lives and your likings' and determine and observe what is good, what is honest, and what is wholesome; but above all endeavour to preserve unity in the bonds of peace, and so the God of peace will be with you.

1 How ill the Abbot of Clairvaux was when he wrote these letters, we have no means of ascertaining precisely; but we do know he lived an active lite for many years after writing them.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 146

TO THE MONKS OF CLAIRVAUX

y soul is sorrowful and will not be comforted until I return to M you. What consolation can there be for me in this evil hour, in this land of my exile?

There is only yourselves. Wherever I am, your dear memory never leaves me.

But for this very reason your absence is all the more hard to endure.

Unhappy am I to be doomed to an exile ever prolonged!

In the words of the Prophet, "Hard was my hurt to bear and these have added to it', who separate me from you.

The exile from God, which we all endure while we are in the body, is hard enough to bear; but added to this I have to endure an exile from you which almost renders me impatient with my lot. To be involved for so long in the vanity of everything here, to be shut in by the rotton feculence of the body, to remain still bound by the bonds of death and still subject to sin, to be for so long without Christ, this is a continual affliction, a wearisome suspense.

I had but one remedy for all this, a truly heaven-sent gift, and it was the sight, instead of God's glorious countenance which is as yet hidden from us, of you who are his holy sanctuary.

From this it seemed an easy passage to that glorious sanctuary for which the Prophet sighs when he says:

'One request I have ever had of the Lord, let me claim it still, to dwell in the Lord's house my whole life long, gazing at the beauty of the Lord, haunting his sanctuary '.

2. What more can I say? How many times has not that one comfort of mine been frustrated!

Unless I am mistaken this is the third time that my sons have been torn from me, weaned before their time.

I am prevented from rearing the sons I have ' begotten in the Gospel'.

I am obliged to leave my own to undertake the cares of others.

I do not know which is the more painful: to be taken away from the former or to be saddled with the latter.

O good Jesu, 'for very misery my strength ebbs away, my frame is wasted, and my years are but sighs'.

For me * death is more welcome than life ', only let it be amongst my own brethren, my own family, my own dear sons! As everyone knows, it is sweeter, safer, and more natural to die thus.

It were a loving act 'to give me some respite, some cooling breath of comfort, before I go away and am known no more'.

If it please my Lord, let my sons be allowed to close the eyes of their father, albeit I am not worthy to be their father; let them be present at my last end and console my passing away; if it should seem good to thee, let my soul be lifted up on the wings of their prayers to the company of the blessed; let my poor body be buried by their hands amongst the bodies of the poor.

If I have found favour in thy eyes, grant this my one great desire for the sake of the prayers and merits

TO THE MONKS OF CLAIRVAUX

of my brethren.

Yet not my will, but thine be done.

'I do not wish to live as my own master or die as my own master.'

3. As I have told you of my sorrows, it is right that I should also mention my consolations.

First, it is for God's sake that I am suffering all this griefand misfortune; it is in the cause of him for whom all things live. Whether I wish it or not, I cannot but live for him who has purchased my life by laying down his own; for the merciful judge who is able and willing to reward on that last day the sacrifices we have made for him.

If I should fight his cause unwillingly, it will only be by his dispensation that I am doing so, and I shall be a wicked servant; but if willingly, then I shall have glory.

It is this thought that gives me some respite amidst my troubles.

And it is true to say that, for no merits of my own, he has given my labours a happy issue; I can tell from many things that ' the grace he has given me has not been without fruit ', something of which you will probably know. I should like to tell you, for your consolation, how necessary my presence here is or was at this juncture, were it not that it would savour of boasting.

It is better that you should learn this from others.

4. Sorrowfully and reluctantly, weak and sickly, and (I must admit) ever haunted by the wan spectre of pale death, I have bowed before the urgent request of the Emperor, the command of the Apostolic

See, the prayers of the Church and of secular princes, and suffered myself to be dragged to Apulia.

Pray for the peace of the Church, pray for my health, pray that I may see you again, live with you, and die with you.

So live that your prayers may avail.

Pressed for time and with ebbing strength, my words are broken by tears and sobs, as our dear brother Baldwin,? who has taken this letter down for me, can testify.

He has been called to serve the Church in another sphere and in another post.

Pray for him, because he is my only comfort now and my spirit finds great refreshment in his company.

Pray for our lord the Pope who cherishes myself and all of you with fatherly affection.

Pray for the lord Chancellor who is like a mother to me, and for all those who are with him .

. my lord Luke, my lord Chrysogonus, and Master Ivo, who are as brothers to me.

Brothers Bruno and Gerard? are with me and they too beg you to pray for them.

1The Emperor Lothair, having come to Italy in order to help the Pope, was preparing to return home without having finally defeated the redoubtable Roger of Sicily.

As soon as Lothair's back was turned he fell upon Campagna.

It was left to St. Bernard to face him.

He warned Roger that if he showed battle he would be defeated.

Roger scorned his words and attacked the forces of Pope Innocent.

But the saint's prophecy was fulfilled, and Roger was forced to leave the field in disorder.

- 2 Baldwin, the first Cistercian Cardinal, was raised to the sacred purple by Innocent at Clermont in 1130.

3 Gerard, Bernard's brothcr.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 147

TO PETER THE VENERABLE

To his most reverend lord and father, Peter, Abbot of Cluny, the entire devotion of his Bernard. ay the day star from on high visit you, O most excellent man, for M you have visited me in a foreign land, and consoled me in the place of my exile!

You have done well thus to 'take thought for the poor and needy'.

You are a great man concerned with great affairs, and yet you do not forget me when I am absent, even when

I have been absent for a long time.

Blessed be your holy angel for putting the kind thought into your mind, and blessed be our God for prompting you to follow it!

In your letter, that letter wherein you have poured forth your soul to me, I have something to be proud of amongst strangers. I am proud to think you keep me, not only in memory, but also in favour.

I am proud to enjoy the privilege of your affection, and I am refreshed by the great goodness of your heart.

Iam also proud of my troubles, if I may be counted worthy to suffer them for the sake of the Church.

But most of all it is the triumph of the Church of which I am proud and which keeps my head erect.

If we have shared in her labours, so also shall we share in her consolation.

But we must work and suffer with our Mother, or else she will complain of us, saying,

'Old companions shun me.

Tam assailed by enemies that grudge me life itself.'

2. I give thanks to God who has given her victory, who has 'cherished her and brought her safely through all her strivings'.

Our sorrow has been turned to joy, and our tears to the praises of the harp.

" Winter is over now, the rain has passed by, the flowers have begun to blossom, the pruning time has come', the fruitless growth, the rotten branch has been lopped off.

That impious one, who made Israel to sin, has been swallowed up in death and gone down into the pit. In the words of the Prophet he ' made terms with death and a compact with hell' and therefore, according to Ezechiel, ' only ruin was left of him, for ever vanished and gone'.

That other one too, the greatest as he was the worst enemy of all, he also has been cut off.

He had been a friend of the Church, but one of those of whom she complained, saying: ' Friends and neighbours keep their distance now '.

If any remain, we can only hope that they may soon meet with a like fate. The time is approaching for me to return to my brethren and, if I should live to do so, I hope to visit you on my way back.

In the meantime I commend myself to your holy prayers, and beg you to 1 This was probably Gerard of Angouléme.

TO GODFREY, THE PRIOR OF CLAIRVAUX

remember me to brother Hugh the Cellarer! and to the others who are with you, as well as to all your holy brethren.

LETTER 148

TO GODFREY, THE PRIOR OF CLAIRVAUX

To Brother Godfrey the greetings of Brother Bernard.

N the very octave day of Pentecost God fulfilled our desires by giving unity to the Church and peace to the city of Rome.?

On that day all the supporters of Peter Leonis prostrated themselves at the feet of the lord Pope to take the oath of fealty and become his liege men.

And the clergy who had been in schism, together with the idol they had set up,? also prostrated themselves at the feet of our lord the Pope, and according to custom promised obedience.

There was great joy amongst the people.

At last the peace has come which I felt so sure would come, although I could not tell when.

Now nothing remains to keep me here any longer, and I can change 'I will come' for "I am coming', as you have been imploring me to do.

'I am coming soon carrying with me my award': the victory of Christ and the peace of the Church.

My departure from the city will be on the Friday after that day.4 And so 'I shall come back rejoicing, carrying with me my sheaves of peace'.

These are fine words, but the facts are even finer, so fine that whoever is not glad about them must be either wicked or a fool.

LETTER 149

TO POPE INNOCENT

F things always went wrong, no one could endure it; if they always I went well, anyone would become arrogant.

But Wisdom, who orders all things sweetly, varies the lives of the elect with most necessary vicissitudes, so that they are neither broken by adversity nor weakened by properity.

Thus prosperity is rendered more welcome, and adversity more tolerable.

Blessed be God in all things: he has turned our sorrow into joy and anointed our wounds first with wine and now with oil.

The thieves and robbers have been smitten with compunction and brought low.

They have sent back with honour the priest 1 salutamus fratrem Hugonem Camerarium.

Eales translates Camerarium as ' chamberlain'.

'This may be correct, but Du Cange quotes Peter the Venerable describing the office as that of a procurator or cellarer:

. hoc est fratrum procuratorio officio functus.

2 May 29th, 1138.

3 The anti-Pope Victor who succeeded Anacletus.

4Sexta feria post diem illum egressus est noster de civitate.

Eales translates:

'The messenger whom I sent you left Rome on the Friday after that day '.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

of God on whom they had dared to lay hands?; and the spoils which they had plundered, they have got together without delay and returned without cheating.

If any part of them are missing, Dalphin will make satisfaction to you according to your pleasure.

He has sworn with his hand in mine to do this.

If he should present himself to your Majesty in order to honour this pledge of his, as he has undertaken to do, I beg that the young man may be treated more kindly than he deserves.

I do not suggest that his crime should go unpunished but, on the other hand, I would not wish the satisfaction demanded of him to be such as to exasperate him beyond endurance and make him regret having followed my advice.

LETTER 150

TO HUMBERT, ABBOT OF IGNY

Humbert had been a Benedictine at La-Chaise-Dieu for twenty years before entering Clairvaux.

After nine years as a monk of Clairvaux he became Abbot of Igny in the diocese of Rheims.

In the year 1138 he called forth the following strong letter from St. Bernard by attempting to lay down his heavy burden for one that was lighter.

However it appears that fuller information as to the circumstances modified the saint's attitude, for Humbert retired to Clairvaux and when he died in 1148 the Abbot preached the funeral sermon and referred to him in it as a man after his own heart. op forgive you, what have you done!

Who could believe that G one so highly endowed as you, should break out into such evil!

How is it that such a good tree has been able to bring forth fruit so very bad?

'How terrible is God in his dealings with men!'

I do not wonder that the devil has been able to do it, but I do wonder that God should have permitted it after all your years of what I believe to have been humble and sincere service.

What will he do with me who am but a slothful and careless servant if, even for a time, he can deliver up you, his faithful servant, to the will of his enemies?

What sense is there, or rather what is not impious in your flight from duty, over which your sons lament and your adversaries make merry?

I wonder that you were not scared by the example to Abbot Arnold.?

His audacity was not unlike yours, and it met with a speedy but fearful retribution.

Yet he, as I know well, had some excuse, while you have none at all. You have no disobedient monks, none of your laybrothers are slothful in their work, you have no neighbours laying violent hands on your property, you do not suffer from scanty or insufhicient means of support, so that you might feel obliged to leave those whom you can neither feed nor rule.

1 Is this possibly a reference to the unfortunate capture and subsequent release, upon terms, of Pope Innocent by Roger of Sicily in 1139?

* Cf. Letters 4, 5 and 6.

TO THE MONKS OF THE ABBEY IN THE ALPS

2. Have a care lest those words of God 'They have hated me without cause' be applied to you. What ought he to have done for you that he has not done?

He has planted for you a chosen and beautiful vineyard, and hedged it about with the vows of continence.

He has dug therein a winepress of the strictest discipline and built a tower of poverty reaching almost to the heavens.

He has put you in as husbandinan and set you over it as the guardian.

'He has cherished you and will bring you safely out of all your striving' if you but permit him.

'But you are shamefully levelling his wall for every passer-by to rob his vineyard of its fruit.

Ah! who will now prevent the wild boar from ravaging it, and the lone dweller in the woods from finding his pasture therein?'

I am surprised that you think this is a proper way to prepare for death, as you say in your letter; that you have no fear at all of death finding you in a state of such great scandal and under the anathema of the Pope.

If it were really necessary for you to do this, could you not have found some other time for it, but just now when I am kept by the needs of the whole Church so that I cannot come to the help of the poor community you have left exposed to danger.

I implore you by him who was crucified for you, spare to torture those who are already sufficiently afflicted; and cease, I beg you, from adding to my already accumulated sorrows.

To tell the truth I am so upset by this general and grave schism of the Church that life has become a burden to me, even if you and yours are able to live in peace.

LETTER 151

TO THE MONKS OF THE ABBEY IN THE ALPS

This letter is to the monks of St. Jean-d' Aulps, in the diocese of Geneva.

The early history of this house is interesting as showing that the spirit which animated St. Robert and St. Stephen was alive before their day. About 1090 two monks left Molesme and settled at a place called Les-Harpes.

In 1094 St. Robert appointed a certain Guy as their first Abbot.

This Guy was succeeded by one Guerin.

In 1120 Pope Calixtus II dispensed the house from the jurisdiction of Molesme and later, on June 28th, in the year

1136, it was affiliated to Clairvaux.

The following letter was written by St. Bernard on the occasion of the election of their Abbot to be Bishop of Sitten in the upper valley of the Rhone. our good father and mine has been promoted, by the will of God,

Yes a higher place. We must therefore do as the Prophet tells us when he says:

' The sun has been lifted up, the moon stays in her place'. The sun is he by whom your Alpine community was rendered glorious, even as the moon by the sun.

But now that he

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

has been lifted up, we who have ' willingly chosen to lie forgotten in the house of God, so that we might dwell no more in the abode of sinners' must keep our place.

Our place is the bottom, is humility, is voluntary poverty, obedience, and joy in the Holy Spirit.

Our place is under a master, under an Abbot, under a rule, under discipline.

Our place is to cultivate silence, to exert ourselves in fasts, vigils, prayers, manual work and, above all, to keep that ' more excellent way' which is the way of charity; and furthermore to advance day by day in these things, and to persevere in them until the last day.

I trust that this is what you are busily doing.

2. There is one thing you have done at which everyone marvels.

It is that, although your lives were holy, you thought nothing of this but made it your business to share the holy lives of others that yours might become yet more holy. Thereby you have fulfilled what we read in the Gospel:

' When you have done all these things that are commanded of you, say: We are unprofitable servants'.

You have proved yourselves truly humble by thus judging yourselves unprofitable servants.

It is so rare that anyone leading a good life is ready to do this that when it happens everyone admires it. You were celebrated before, but this has made you more celebrated; your life was holy before, but this has made it even more holy. And wherever word of this your action has gone abroad, it has filled everything with the fragrance of its sweetness.

In my opinion this virtue is to be preferred to long fasts and protracted vigils, in fact to every bodily exercise, as it is the ' true godliness profitable to all things'.

The Cistercian multitude welcomed you with open arms, and the angels looked down upon you with smiling faces.

Those holy spirits know very well that what pleases the omnipotent God more than anything is brotherly concord and unity, since the Prophet says: 'It is good to be joined together '; and another says: ' Gracious the sight and full of comfort, when brethren dwell together united'; and again:

' When brother helps brother, theirs is the strength of a fortress '.

3. I have said that this deed of yours is redolent of humility.

We are taught how acceptable this virtue is to the divine majesty by him who has said: 'God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble'.

And God shows how he is the master of this virtue when he says: 'Learn of me for Iam meek and humble of heart'.

What can I say of my little flock at Clairvaux to whom you have joined yourselves?

I cannot describe how great and special is the love with which they welcome you.

No words can express the mutual charity which the Holy Spirit has marvellously inspired between us.

It now remains for you, my brothers, to invoke the Holy Spirit and set about electing your father.

If you wait until I come, the delay would be dangerous, for I fear it would be a long time before I were able to do so.

But summon to you Godfrey, the Prior of Clairvaux

TO BURCHARD, ABBOT OF BALERNE

and my dear brother, and with his advice or the advice of those he will send in his place, if he cannot come himself, as well as with the advice of your father Guerin, choose such a person as may be able to work for the honour of God and your salvation.

LETTER 152

TO BURCHARD, ABBOT OF BALERNE

The Abbey of Balerne was founded by a few monks from Molesme.

The exact date of this is uncertain; some authorities give it as 1097, others as 1107.

Later, in 1135, it became affiliated to the Cistercians.

Abbot Burchard was sent from Clairvaux to rule it. He was a man utterly devoted to St. Bernard and, in a postscript to the Vita Prima, he refers to the Abbot of Clairvaux as a second Benedict.

OuR words are exceedingly fiery. They blaze with the fire the PY bisea sent down upon earth.

As I read them my heart was warmed within me. I blessed that fiery furnace of yours for sending out such glowing sparks. Was not your heart on fire while you were writing?

A good man brings good things out of his good treasure.

If I have laboured for you, as you humbly aver, I do not regret it.

I ploughed the land in the hope of a great harvest, and I have not been disappointed.

My heart is satisfied in a strange land with the fruit of my labours.

I can see that the seed I sowed did not fall by the wayside, nor upon rocky ground, nor among weeds, but on good land.

If I laboured in sorrow, now I remember my sorrow no more for joy that a child has been born into the world.

A child not in understanding, but in malice.

Such a child as the Saviour held up for the imitation of older men, when he said:

* Unless ye be converted and become as one of these little children, ye shall not enter the kingdom of heaven'; a child that could say:

' More learning have I than my elders, I that hold true to thy charge', and:

' Very young and despised, I do not forget thy charge'.

2. I thank you, Father, Lord of Heaven and earth, that thou hast hidden these things from the wise and prudent, and revealed them to children.

So be it, my father, because it has seemed good to you.

By thy good will they are what they are, not by any merit of their own.

You do not seek merit in anyone, but you anticipate it. We are all sinners and need that you should first come to meet us.

Do you, my brother, acknowledge that you have been met on the way and 'met on the way with abundant blessing', not by myself who am of no account, but by him who went before, inspiring me to admonish you for your good.

It is very much if you attribute to me the planting and the watering, but where would I have been without him who gives the increase?

Prostrate yourself before him in all

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

humility, cling to him with all the strength of your devotion.

Regard me as his servant, your brother servant, a companion for your journey to the homeland where we are fellow heirs, if I have loyally fulfilled the service for which I was sent to you, if I have done all I could that you might win the heritage of salvation.

This is my answer to your enquiries.

I shall concern myself with your needs and my own when I return.

LETTER 153

TO PETER THE VENERABLE

To the lord Peter, Abbot of Cluny, the humble affection of Bernard.

RECEIVED your letter and was overjoyed that such a man as you are I should have ' met with abundant blessing ' someone of no account like myself. When and where shall we have a suitable opportunity for the meeting and talk which you suggest?

In the meantime I send these few words in answer to yours, and will gladly send more if I can be sure that I will not be troublesome to you.

How could a person like myself dare to approach you, unless you should stoop to give me access to your presence?

LETTER 154

TO THE SAME

Ba I am sure that you realize how unwilling I am to oppose your Reverence in any way, I do not hesitate to make any suggestions to you that I believe are necessary.

Concerning the monastery of St. Bertin, I could wish that you would act with greater moderation than you have done.

Even if you were able to bring it into subjection to yourself quite peacefully and without any opposition, even so I do not see what you would gain.

I do not believe you are a person who would find any pleasure in an honour which is accompanied by such a burden of responsibility.

As it is, since you cannot claim this monastery without great trouble and disturbance, it seems to me that reluctance to stir up strife affords you an excellent pretext for retiring gracefully from the attempt.

LETTER 155

TO POPE INNOCENT II

This letter concerns the misdemeanours of a young man called Philip.

When the See of Tours fell vacant through the death of Hildebert in 1133, Geoffrey,

Count of Tours, expelled the Chapter from the city.

His reasons for this rather high-handed behaviour are difficult to divine.

When the Chapter met, elsewhere than in their own city, one party of them elected, quite

TO POPE INNOCENT II

uncanonically, a young monk of Fontaines-les-Blanches, by the name of Philip, a nephew of Hildebert's predecessor, Gilbert.

Philip went off to Anacletus to have his election confirmed.

He then returned to Tours and took possession of his See.

The other party in the Chapter had in the meantime elected a certain Hugh, who was consecrated at Le Mans.

Philip fled from Tours and took with him the treasure of the Cathedral.

When the matter was referred to Pope Innocent he entrusted St. Bernard with Apostolic

Authority to institute an enquiry into the matter.

The upshot of this was that Philip's election was annulled by St. Bernard.

The supporters of Philip appealed over St. Bernard's head to Innocent himself.

It is at this juncture that the saint wrote the following letter.

Innocent supported the decision of St. Bernard, and Philip sought refuge with Anacletus.

He later repented his misdeeds, became a monk at Clairvaux, and was Prior there when the saint died. mM" the members share in the health of the head!

May the balm that was poured over Aaron's head until it flowed down his beard, reach to the very skirts of his robe!

If the sheep are scattered when the shepherd is smitten, when he is well and strong may they return to their pasture without fear.

What I mean is this.

The city of God has been rejoiced by messages of your many glorious successes.

It is therefore only right that your triumphs should invigorate the whole Church; that when God honours the chosen of his people, they too should feel themselves honoured and all the stronger for the increase of vigour in their head.

The Church has suffered with you, therefore she ought to reign with you.

This is something worthy of you and necessary for us.

If the arm of justice was not shortened, if zeal for it did not languish in times of fear and suffering, shall we give up now when victory is within sight?

Shall the courage that shone in weakness fade away in the time of triumph?

2. With what a strong hand was that noble monastery of Vézelay set in order !1_ The Majesty of the Apostolic See did not even consider giving away one inch to the insane rabble of armed people, to the frenzied fury of undisciplined monks, or to what is more powerful than all this, the forces of mammon.

What shall I say of St.

Benedict's?2.

Was the anger of a king able to shackle the liberty of spirit armed and stirred against flesh and blood?

So also were the churches of SS. Memmius and Satyrus wonderfully transformed from synagogues of Satan to sanctuaries of God, whether wicked men liked it or not.2

And at Liége too, a choleric and furious king was 1 The monks of Vézelay rebelled against the authority of the Abbot of Cluny when he tried to impose an Abbot upon them. i 2 This was the Abbey of St. Benedict on the Po.

The trouble was similar to what happened zelay. ase icons was a famous church of Canons at Chalons.

Innocent JI made them follow the Rule of St. Augustine.

St. Satyrus was a church of secular Canons at Bourges. Owing to their worldly lives they were expelled by Innocent and replaced by Augustinian Canons,

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

unable to enforce, with his barbaric and menacing sword, acquiescence to his shocking and shameless demands. Who can praise enough the shafts that have been just lately hurled by the same hand, although from afar, against the disturbers of the Church of Orleans?

Truly the arrow of Jonathan did not turn back nor was his sword returned empty.

At the word of this the King was troubled, but not all erusalem with him.

Rather he mitigated his wrath at last, ashamed and fearful to be armed in vain against the Lord and against his anointed.

Because of all this the majesty of your name fills all the earth and your greatness is above the heavens, but such a good beginning deserves the ornament of a worthy end.

This is what all who love you eagerly hope for, this is what they beg may soon occur.

3. With a like zeal and with an equally powerful arm it is necessary that the Church of Tours should be immediately succoured.

Unless you bring it speedy aid, she also will be on the point of perishing.

They say that the spirit of Gilbert lives on in Philip, that he is heir to his ambition as well as his nephew by blood.

The prolonged agony of his mother Church indicates clearly enough how that young man is consumed with the lust to rule.

The wretch has disembowelled her in order that he may beget honour for himself.

By God's will an end has been put to his misdeeds at last, if the authority of the Apostolic

See should be pleased to ratify what has been enacted against him at the demand of justice, under compulsion from his wickedness, for the preservation of peace.

God forbid that you should put to shame the loyal children to whom you graciously committed the settling of this business.

God forbid that raging ambition should find a protector in the defender of innocence.

How great is the audacity of this man to attempt such a thing, how great his madness to hope for it! Twice over has the wretch despised the Apostolic mandate, and now even more brazenly he is venturing to present himself before justice itself in your person.

Who does not see clearly that despairing of his case he is impiously planning to undermine the tower of your strength with the power of his riches.

But there is no danger of this, for he is Innocent whom he is tempting, and the son of iniquity will have no power to injure him.

4. While we sigh for your presence, dearest father, we recall the memory of your kindness, and in this we find our consolation for your absence.

You are ever in our hearts, often on our tongues.

Your name is the salt of all talk, it is sweet to the ear, becoming to the lips, refreshing and warming to the heart.

It is extolled at meetings of holy men, it is the chief topic of their conversation, their prayers are full of it, it is an invitation to prayer.

We are all anxious for you just _* Lothair at the Council held at Liége made it a condition of his support for Innocent that the right of investiture should be restored to him.

The situation was saved by St. Bernard, who fearlessly rebuked Lothair and reduced him to submission.

TO POPE INNOCENT II

now and pray for you and yours that the Eternal God, for whom and on behalf of whom you are labouring in time, may hold you worthy of everlasting memory.

LETTER 156

TO POPE INNOCENT II, CONCERNING THE ELECTION OF PHILIP

TO THE SEE OF TOURS

The text of this letter gives the impression of having been hastily dictated to an incompetent scribe.

HAVE Called a meeting, venerable father, to settle the quarrel of Tours, andI have convened it at Blois since it is in the neighbourhood and both convenient and safe for those concerned.

When we met in that place the opponents of Philip's election advanced many reasons against it.

So as not to bother you with all the details, the two chief arguments against the election were that the candidate was under age and that there was a defect in both the number and the status of the electors, since all the archdeacons, the dean and cantor as well as all the priests of his church and most of the clergy, in fact all the persons of any consequence in the Church, had been expelled from their homes and the Church, and could not therefore be present.

On the other hand, they maintain that their election of Hugh was fair and canonical because he was the choice of those best qualified to elect.

They deny that it is any valid argument against their election to say that it was held outside the city and church contrary to the usual practice, for the persecution rendered this necessary; or that the representatives of the other party were not present, for they had been informed and summoned, but had refused to come.

They say that the place chosen had been agreed upon by both parties, but that their opponents stole a march on them by anticipating the day and hurriedly electing Philip on the quiet without them knowing anything about it: that they did not even wait for any of the suffragan bishops, who are more in favour of their election and have given their assent to it! To this the party of Philip reply: We have a full and adequate answer to all this if only a day convenient to us is chosen.

We do not deny that the present day is the one appointed, but we affirm that our candidate was not informed of it.

Since the case concerns him personally, he ought to be cited by name.

To this the others reply:

Not at all, the dispute is between the electors concerning the election and not between the candidates concerning the See.

It is a matter for the litigants to decide, it is they who should be cited, and it would

1 nam nec dé suffraganeis episcopis quempiam expectatum, sue vero eos magis favere electioni et assensum prebuisse.

Eales:

' Nor did they wait even for any of the suffragan bishops; but these are said to favour the election, and to have assented to it '.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

be a most serious and improper thing to count the candidates amongst the litigants.

No one was excluded by the letters of citation, and it is quite enough that Philip was summoned generally with the others.

In fact you were clearly told to seek him out.1_ But he had gone away and was not found, so that it was exceedingly improbable that he should be present on the day. But there was nothing to be gained by absenting himself, for the case could be settled without him.

And if you say that he should have been allowed to speak for himself as the matter chiefly concerned him, we can only reply that the fault is either his for disappearing or yours for not finding him.

If a man chooses to be absent, not only from his city, but even from his kingdom and country, or what his intentions may be for so doing, is no concern of those whose duty it is to send out general letters of citation to the church and city.

If he has any confidence in the justice of his case, what is there lacking for a fair trial? We see him surrounded by a crowd of supporters, men experienced and skilled in litigation.

He even has armed men to guard him, as though he would have any need for these!

He also has the support of bishops and an excellent promoter.

Was he then so unprepared?

Ifso, why this large crowd of supporters?

And if he was unprepared, the judge offers him all he can need.

These things we say, if it should appear that Philip really was ignorant of the day; but how can he now maintain that he has not been informed of the day and place of the hearing since the Abbot of Clairvaux himself told him when he met him hiding in the See of Cambrai, as he chanced to be passing by eighteen days ago?

2. When I had heard all this it seemed best both to me and to the religious and wise men, bishops, abbots and clergy, who were with me, to put an end to this prolonged ordeal of the Church and tolerate no longer the subterfuges and delays of those who cared only for their own interests and nothing for the fate of the Church.

We therefore decided that, in the interests of justice, the case ought to be opened immediately and that the pretexts for further delay were not valid.

Thereupon the partisans of Philip, having but small confidence in their case, adopted their usual evasive tactics, and appealed.

Then we produced the Apostolic rescript which commanded us to settle the case definitely and obliged both parties to abide by our decision.

But the partisans of Philip refused to pay any heed and walked out.

They were twice recalled, but they refused to come back.

So we turned to the other side, but with full judicial procedure, and proceeded with the case as you commanded.

When we had received canonical proof of the two points mentioned above, examined all the witnesses, and offered Mass for guidance," we quashed the election of Philip on the 1... quin vobis manifeste denunciatum fuerit eum querere.

Eales: '. .

. although you cannot deny that it was openly announced by you that Philip was being sought for '.

*. .

. post peracta sacrificia.

Eales: '. .

. and completing all formalities '.

TO PHILIP, THE INTRUDED ARCHBISHOP OF TOURS

authority of the Apostolic See.

With regard to Hugh, since it is evident that he was elected while still below sacred orders, we leave the decision of his case, as is proper, to your mercy.

LETTER 157

TO PHILIP, THE INTRUDED ARCHBISHOP OF TOURS

In this very ' Bernardine' letter, the saint addresses himself to Philip.

Almost certainly it was written before the previous letter, when Philip had gone to Rome to have his election ratified by Anacletus, but before he had returned to Tours, and been forced to retire again. yee are causing me great sorrow, my dear Philip.

I beg you not to mock at my grief, because, if you do not see why I should grieve for you, then there is all the more reason why I should do so.

Whatever you think of yourself, I think that your condition calls for a whole fount of tears.

My grief is no matter for mockery, but for sympathy.

My sorrow has no mere human cause, it is not occasioned by the loss of any fleeting chattels, but of you, Philip. I cannot better describe how great is the cause of my sorrow than by saying that Philip is the cause of it. When I have said this, I have declared what is a great source of distress for the Church, who once cherished you in her bosom when you were growing like a lily, and blossoming with every heavenly gift. Who would not have said then that you were a youth of fair hopes, a young man with great gifts. But alas! how your blossom has faded.

From what great hopes has France fallen who gave you birth and nourished you!!

Oh, if you did but know, even you!

If you set yourself to learn, you soon will know grounds for grief; and then in your grief, my grief will bear fruit.

I would say more were I to follow my inclination, but I do not wish to say much while I am still uncertain, lest I be like one beating the air.

I have written this, so that you should know how greatly I care for you, and that I am always at hand if God should inspire you with the wish to talk to me and afford me the pleasure of your company.

Iam at Viterbo and you, I hear, are in Rome.

Be so good, I beg you, to answer this letter and tell me how it strikes you, so that I may know what to do, whether I should grieve more or less for you.

And if you scorn everything I have said and refuse to hear me, I will not lose the fruit of this letter, for it proceeds from charity, but you will have to answer for your contempt before that fearful tribunal.

14 quanta spe decidit Francia.

Watkin Williams (op. cit.) sees here a reminiscence of the Quanta de spe decidi from the Heautontimor of Terence (IL.iii.9).

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 158

TO POPE INNOCENT II

Written on behalf of the Bishop of Troyes, who had got himself into trouble by trying to reform the clergy.

HE insolence of the clergy is being everywhere a nuisance and a tere the whole Church.

The cause of it is the negligence of the bishops.

The bishops throw what is holy to the dogs, and cast pearls before swine, who turn upon them and tread them down.

But it is only right that they should have to suffer for those they foster.

Because they do not correct those whom they endow with the riches of the Church, they have to put up with their misconduct.

The clergy fatten on the sweat of others, they devour the fruits of the earth without charge, and so ' malice distils from their pampered lives '.

The old saying of Scripture is true even to-day: "The people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to take their pleasure'.

The mind accustomed to delicate meats, and uncultivated by the rake of discipline, contracts much filth.

And if you attempt to clean it away, they will not permit you to so much as touch it with your finger tips, but act like those of whom the Scripture says:

" A people well loved and pampered, would throw off the yoke and revolt against their deliverer'.

Now 'false witnesses have stood up to accuse', men who delight to be for ever carping at the lives of others, while neglecting their own.

Your son pleads with you for the Bishop of Troyes whose only fault in this quarrel is, so far as I can make out, to have rebuked the faults of the clergy.

So much for the bishop.

Now I must make my own excuses.

The letter in which you were good enough to beg me to come to you when you could quite well have ordered me to do so, did not arrive before the Nativity of Our

Blessed Lady.

Therefore I do not say I have bought a yoke of oxen or a house or that I have married a wife, but I confess quite simply that, as you very well know, I have children and must nourish them, and so I do not see how I could come to you without grave scandal and danger to them.

LETTER 159

TO BERNARD, MONK OF THE CHARTREUSE-DES-PORTES-EN-BUGEY

Vie earnestly entreat me and I firmly refuse you, but only because I want to spare myself, not because I scorn you.

I wish I could compose something worthy of your zeal and intelligence.

I would give you my very eyes, even my life, were I able to, my most dear friend, for I especially have every reason to Jove you spiritually in

TO BERNARD, A MONK

Christ with all the power of which Iam capable.

But how can I find the ability, let alone the leisure, to do as you ask?

It is not as though you were asking me to do some little thing that would be quite easy and ordinary.

You would not be so insistent were it only a small matter.

Your many letters, and the vehemence which animates them, are a clear enough indication of how serious you are in the matter and what great store you Jay by it. And the more anxious I feel you to be, the more diffident do I become.

Why so?

Simply because I do not want to bring forth an absurd mouse in return for your great hopes.t This is what I so much fear, and this is the reason for my delay.

It is not surprising that I should fear to give you what I should blush to see published.

I am most unwilling to produce what I should regard as more fit for contempt than for publication. Who would wish to give anyone something that it would shame him to give and be no advantage to receive?

I willingly give you what I have, but Iam not so willing to lose it.

Everyone knows how disappointing it is to receive something small when something great has been expected.

And what is received with disappointment is not given but lost.

2. It is your endeavour, as a man of leisure and freedom, to seek on all sides fuel for the fire that burns within you, so that you may burn the more, and thus fulfil the words of the Lord to you:

' What would I but that it be kindled?'

I have nothing but praise for this, but I beg you to look where you may not be disappointed in receiving.

You are mistaken if you think you can find anything in me to satisfy you.

It is I who should beg from you.

I know very well that it is more blessed to give than to receive, but only if the gift is creditable to the giver and useful to the receiver, such a gift as I doubt whether I have got to give. Were I to give you what I have, I am afraid that you would feel ashamed to have asked for it, and would regret having received it. But still, perhaps it would be better for you to make your own excuses for me, that your own eyes should provide you with evidence of the truth of what I say.

And so I will accede to your importunity, so that you may have no doubts about my insufficiency.

It is a matter between friends.

I will not try any more to spare my modesty, I will forget my own foolishness in trying to satisfy your demands.

Iam having copied a few sermons I wrote recently on the first verses of the Song of Solomon, and as soon as they are ready I will send them to you.

When I have the time, when Christ sees fit to calm the storm of cares that beset me, I shall continue with them, but you must encourage me.

I send my devoted greetings to my lord and father, your Prior, and to your other brethren, and I humbly beg them to remember me before God.

1 parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus.

Horace, De Arte Poetica.

'The mountains will give birth and an absurd mouse be born.'

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 160

TO THE SAME

y dearest Bernard, I cannot hide my sorrow nor can I disguise M from you any longer the grief which I suffer.

I have not forgotten my long-standing promise to you, I have for long had the firm intention and great desire to pass by you, so that I may see again those whom my soul loves and, in their company, find consolation for my journey, relief for my labours, and healing for my sins.

But in punishment for my sins it has come about that regretfully I find that I am not able to do so._I acknowledge this not as a fault, but as a punishment for my faults.

I beg you to understand, man of God, that it is not at all that I do not care for my friends, nor is it that I am lazy or negligent in the matter, but simply that I am prevented by the work of God which I cannot ignore. My vexation gnaws at me like a worm, and my grief is ever with me.

I am troubled enough on other accounts but, I must confess, on none so much as on this.

It vexes me more than all the labours of my journey, than the discomfort of the heat, than the anxiety of my responsibilities.

Now that I have exposed my wound to my friend, it is your business to have pity on me and relieve me by sharing my burden.

I implore your prayers, and the prayers of the holy men with whom you live.

I am sending you the sermons on the beginning of the Song of Solomon, as you have asked me to do and as I have promised.

When you have read them, I beg you to write as soon as you conveniently can and tell me whether you think I should continue with them or not.

LETTER 161

TO POPE INNOCENT

This letter was written on behalf of the Carthusian Bernard, to whom the two previous letters are addressed, when he was chosen to be Bishop of Pavia.

In the event he became Bishop, not of Pavia, but of Belley.

I HAVE heard, venerable father, that Bernard of Portes, a man beloved of God and men, has been obliged by your invitation to shoulder the burden and work of a bishop.

It seems very likely to be true, for it is a thing highly becoming to your apostolate to place a hidden light where all men may see it, so that he shall live not only for himself but bring others too into the light. How long is one who can give light to others to burn and shine in hiding?

If it should please you, let him be set upon a candlestick that he may be a burning and shining light to others; but let it not be where the force of great winds prevail lest (which God forbid) the light should be put out.

Who does not know of the effrontery and turbulence of the Lombards?

And who

TO POPE INNOCENT

knows it better than you? You know better than I do how weak is the power of the episcopacy in those parts, and what an ungovernable household it is.

I cannot think what a young man, broken in bodily health, accustomed to the peace of a hermitage, would do amongst such a turbulent, uncivilized, and tempestuous crowd of people.

How could such perversity and such sanctity, such craftiness and such simplicity, ever mix?

If it should please you, let him be kept for a more suitable See and for a different sort of people who could benefit by his rule.

Do not allow the fruit which he will be able to give in due season be lost through too great hurry.

LELRTER< 162

TO THE SAME, ON BEHALF OF THE CHURCH OF ORLEANS

| Sie how long will the misery of the Church of Orleans appeal in vain to the heart of the father of orphans and the judge of widows?

For how long shall the noble virgin of Israel lie prostrate in the dust, deprived not only of her husband, but even of her children?

And for shame! there is none to lift her up. How long will it be before you attend to the children and their mother who are crying after you for mercy? I refer to those who have lost their homes and goods, and have only been able to save their lives by flight. Why do you stay that strong hand of yours, which has never before failed to avenge the down-trodden and smite the arrogant? Why are you hesitating to rescue the afflicted from the power of the bully and mete out vengeance to the haughty?

If you must delay, let it not be for ever.

Help when it comes late should come with all the greater strength and should afford succour all the more effectively.

If it should so please you, may it be some compensation for your delays that those who have proudly abused the patience of the Apostolic See may gain nothing by it in the end; and that those who have suffered so patiently, trusting in you, may at last have no reason to regret their patience.

LETTER 163

TO CARDINAL HAIMERIC, ON BEHALF OF THE SAME

To his special friend, Haimeric, by the grace of God Cardinal Deacon and Chancellor of the Apostolic See, that he may shine with the light of wisdom and virtue, from Brother Bernard of Clairvaux.

FI did not already know your great compassion for the afflicted and I your disgust for the shameless, I would implore you in season and out of season on behalf of Master William of Meun and his companions.

I would compel you to take action against their oppressors and calumniators.

But it is enough to have mentioned it to you; now it is up to you to prove that it really is enough!

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 164

TO POPE INNOCENT, CONCERNING THE MURDER OF MASTER THOMAS,

THE PRIOR OF ST. VICTOR'S AT PARIS

The following letters concern a double tragedy, arising from the confusion occasioned by the schism.

Some four years before this letter was written, about the year 1129, St. Bernard had played an important part in reforming the Chapter of Notre Dame in Paris.

Strongly supported by Stephen of Senlis, Bishop of Paris, who introduced the Canons Regular of St. Victor, the reforms were carried through in the teeth of opposition from the secular power.

Thomas, the Prior of St. Victor, was the instrument of St. Bernard's policy of reform. A man of the greatest zeal and probity, his first concern was to restrain the venality of Theobald Notier, the Archdeacon of Paris.

In order to obtain some sort of justice in the courts of this Archdeacon, the clergy had to pay him very large fees.

To remedy this Thomas introduced far-reaching administrative reforms.

The result of this was that when Thomas was on a journey accompanied by the Bishop of Paris, Stephen of Senlis, and several other clergy, just as they were passing by the castle of Stephen de Garlande at Gournay-surMarne, Theobald, Notier's nephew, rushed upon Thomas and brutally murdered him in the arms of his bishop.

Because it was a Sunday the company were unarmed and obliged to fly in order to save their lives.

Stephen took refuge at Clairvaux.

The other murder was that of Archibald, Sub-Dean of Orleans. Apparently a certain John had usurped the Archdeaconry of Orleans during the vacancy of the See.

The issue is a little difficult to unravel, but it appears that Archibald strongly opposed the pretensions of John and, for his pains, got murdered.

This was the climax of a long period of unrest in the Church of Orleans.

To his most loving father and lord, Innocent, by the grace of God Supreme Pontiff, the entire devotion and service, for what it is worth, of Bernard, the unworthy Abbot of Clairvaux. wiLD beast has devoured Joseph and, unable to meet the attacks of our dogs, it has fled to you, they say, for protection.

The wretch must be mad to think that he, a wanderer and fugitive on earth, can find a refuge just where he should have most cause for fear.

The scoundrel!

Does he think that the seat of supreme justice is a den of thieves or a lair of lions?

Does he seek refuge with the mother whose son he has butchered, does he dare to a ppear before his father, still licking his chops, his jaws still red with the blood of their son?

Yet if he should ask to do penance, it should not be denied to him.

But if he should only ask for a hearing, let him receive the answer that Moses gave to the people when they were worshipping the

TO POPE INNOCENT II

molten image, or that Phinees gave to the fornicating Israelite, or that Mattathias gave to the man who sacrificed to devils or, to take examples from nearer your home, let him hear from you what Ananias heard from the blessed Peter, or what the Saviour said to the money changers in the temple. Do we not know that the sins of some men go before them to judgement?

Does not the voice of your brother's blood cry out against him to heaven? I believe that the spirit of our martyr, whom he has brutally killed during the last few days, with the souls of all the others who have been slain, is crying out with a strong voice from beneath the altar and demanding a vengeance all the more urgently for his blood having been poured forth so recently.

2. Do you ask, wretch, " Was it I who killed him?'

No, not you, it is true, but your people on your account.

Whether by your designs, God shall see and judge.

If you have any excuse, you whose teeth are spears and arrows, you whose tongue is a sharp sword, then the Jews are not to be blamed for the death of Christ, for they were careful to keep their hands off him. When the archdeacon found his cupidity restrained by blessed Thomas, a lover and protector of justice, so that he could no longer levy the illegal exactions which, on the score of his archidiaconate, he had been in the habit of doing for some time, he hated him so much that with bloodthirsty intent he was wont to threaten that he would murder him.

There are now many witnesses of this, and they should not be ignored.

Let the archdeacon say, if he can, what else than this his nephews had against him that they should have laid their murderous hands upon him, a holy man of God.

If this man who is the cause, instigator, and also (as everyone suspects) the plotter of this crime; if, I say, this man should go unpunished by the Holy See (which, with unbelievable audacity, is just what he is hoping for) it will be an enormous incitement to other evils in the Church.

One of two things would then have to follow: either no one noble or powerful according to the world could be admitted to ecclesiastical honours, or the clergy would have to be permitted everywhere to use their holy office for unworthy purposes, for fear that if anyone, fired by zeal for God's glory, should try to restrain them, they would be immediately butchered by the swords of soldiers as an upholder of justice.

And then what would become of the spiritual sword, ecclesiastical penalties, Christian law and order, reverence for the priesthood, and finally the fear of God, if through terror of the secular power, no one should dare to so much as whisper against the effrontery of the clergy?

Could there be any worse disorder, anything more unworthy of the Church, than that anyone should claim for himself ecclesiastical dignities by virtue of brute force and not of a holy life? Judge this man, my lord and father, as it shall seem good to you, but let your judgement be such as to benefit the Church and assure security, not only for the present time,

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but for future generations.

Let coming generations know not only of the crime that was done in our times, but also of the punishment that rapidly followed.

Otherwise, if the poison should creep through the body without the antidote being administered, it is much to be feared that it will destroy many, and may God forbid this !

NOTE IN a letter to Pope Innocent on the same subject (Benedictine Edition, 159), Stephen of Senlis, Bishop of Paris, tells how Thomas the Prior was brutally murdered in his arms.

He recounts how Thomas, excellent in good works, had zeal and helped to bear the burden of his bishop.

He describes Theobald Notier as the cause of the crime and his nephews as the perpetrators of it, and he begs that justice may be done, warning the Pope not to believe anything the criminals may say until he has heard from him more fully.

In another letter (Benedictine Edition, 160), the Bishop of Paris reminds Haimeric, the Chancellor, of his professions of friendship towards him and begs him to prove his sincerity by his zeal in bringing Notier to justice.

LETTER 165

TO POPE INNOCENT, CONCERNING THE MURDER OF ARCHIBALD,

THE SUB-DEAN OF ORLEANS

HE voice of the blood of the Sub-Dean of Orleans increases in strength!

Alas now, in the words of the Prophet, ' bloodshed never ends, but it begins again' and cries out to you with a strong voice from France.

The blood cries out, I say, and lifts up its voice in a cry strong enough to shake the very palace of heaven, piteous enough to soften even a heart of stone.

What are you about, O friend of the Bridegroom, guardian of the bride, and shepherd of Christ's sheep? Do you believe it is enough to think out a remedy for such a fearful, such an unheard-of disease as this?

Certainly it is necessary to find something that will heal the wound that has been lately inflicted on the Church and act as a deterrent for the future, but it must also be applied.

Gird your thighs with a sword, most powerful one!

The destruction will not cease until Phinees rises up and makes amends.

If the strength of the Church should spare these two, I mean John and Theobald Notier, by whom innocent blood has been shed, if not by their own hands, certainly by their consent, and perhaps by their design, who cannot see what must follow?

How many amongst the clergy would the impunity of these men help to high preferment against all right and justice, not for their good lives, but for fear of their armed friends.

A new disease must be met with a new remedy. Many think that it would be a good thing and most beneficial if you should cut these men off from all ecclesiastical dignities, so that they may be deprived of what they have and prevented from rising to others.

TO CARDINAL HAIMERIC

LETTER 166

TO HAIMERIC, THE CHANCELLOR, ON THE SAME MATTER

I HAVE often told the lord Bishop of Paris how you are always speaking kindly of him to me.

And now the time has come for you to prove, not by word or tongue alone, but in deed and truth, that I am no deceiver and you no liar.

This matter concerns you not only on account of the bishop, but also on account of your other friends, who would certainly be most anxious for you and very disturbed were this case to go otherwise than as they hope.

Pee Re 107

TO JOHN OF CREMA, CARDINAL PRIEST, ON THE SAME SUBJECT

SHALL never forget the love and condescension you have shown me, I an individual of no importance whatsoever.

It is ever my prayer and constant hope that the austerity and holy life whereby you please and delight the angels, may bring forth worthy fruit.

This fruit the Church of France, as well as myself, is now expecting, and I believe not out of due season.

It concerns both my good name and yours, that I shall not be disappointed in you.

May it be as clear as daylight to all men that your zeal for justice and truth burns against these murderers of the clergy, and against those who are behind them, so that I may never have reason to regret of having boasted of you.

LETTER 168

TO GEOFFREY, THE ABBOT OF ST. MARY'S ABBEY, YORK

The fat slumbers of the great Benedictine abbeys were stirred with uncomfortable dreams when the Cistercians arrived in Yorkshire.

St. Mary's Abbey, York, was the first to suffer a dramatic awakening.

The abbey had become rich and had adopted all and, if one may believe the hints of early chronicles, rather more than all the traditional modifications of the Holy Rule.

Yet there remained an élite who were not satisfied with the comfortable life of the abbey.

At length, Richard, the prior, and Gervase, the sub-prior, presented on behalf of their followers a scheme of necessary reforms to Geoffrey, the abbot.

The abbot, who appears to have been a weak character and was certainly old, instead of giving a clear answer tried to temporize.

The reforming party were not satisfied and asked for permission to break away and live a life strictly in accordance with the Rule.

The abbot refused and bitterly reproached them with levity, disobedience, and causing dissension in the community.

Richard appealed to Thurstan, Archbishop of York.

The archbishop summoned the abbot, the prior, and the sub-prior to conference before witnesses at his house.

During the conference the abbot said he could do nothing without the consent of his chapter.

Whereupon the archbishop

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offered to meet the chapter and hear the matter discussed.

On the appointed day he arrived at the abbey and was forbidden entrance by the abbot. When he expostulated, the monks raised a clamour and attempted violence. He thereupon laid the abbey under an interdict, at which one of the monks cried out that a century of interdict would be preferable to episcopal interference.

An attempt was made to seize Richard and his party and thrust them into prison.

They took refuge in the entourage of the archbishop who returned to his home taking them with him.

That was October 17th, 1132.

There were thirteen monks altogether and they remained with the archbishop for three months.

During this time two of them, Gervase and Ralph, returned to their mother house; but Gervase rejoined the reformers later on.

It was at this moment that the Abbot of St. Mary's appealed to St. Bernard and received the following letters.

On Christmas day of the same year Archbishop Thurstan installed Richard and his companions on land of his own in Skeldale, a solitary and uncultivated wilderness.

And then, having presided at the election, he blessed Richard as the first abbot of the new community.

Such were the turbulent beginnings of the great Cistercian abbey of Fountains."

OU write from across the sea to ask my advice, and I could wish Vacs had gone to someone else. You have put me into a dilemma, for if I do not answer you my silence will appear rude; if on the other hand I do answer you it is difficult to know what I can say without offending anyone or without seeming to favour anyone unduly or to countenance anything unwisely.

I can say that it was not with the knowledge, advice, or encouragement of myself or of any of the brethren here that your monks have left you.

But I believe it to have been by the inspiration of God because, in spite of all your efforts, they remain firm in their purpose.

And I believe that those very brothers feel the same who implore me for my advice about themselves, I suppose because their conscience gnaws at them for going back, otherwise, according to the words of the Apostle, if they are not troubled in their conscience for what they have done, 'they are fortunate '.

1 Vacandard dates this letter and the following two letters at the May or June of 1133.

2 For the story of Fountains see Monastic Order in England, Knowles, Vol. I, Pp. 231-239.

3 Credimus autem ex Deo fuisse, quod nec tantis potuit dissolvi conatibus.

Credimus hoc idem et ipsos sentire fratres, qui nostrum tantopere de seipsis consilium flagitant, credo remordente eos conscientia quod retro abierint.

Alioquin beati sunt secundum Apostolum, si se non judicant in eo quod probant.

The whole tone of the letter, as well as the background of it, and the words and syntax, seems to make it clear that this passage refers to the two monks who left the reformers and returned to St. Mary's.

They were Gervase and Ralph.

Evidently they must have been uneasy about themselves and given Abbot Geoffrey no peace until he had written to St. Bernard.

Gervase, we know, rejoined the reformers.

Likewise at the end of the letter, it seems quite clear that the saint is referring to the two monks who returned to St. Mary's when he says, Quidnam vero majus aut minus, superius aut inferius, arctius sive remissius sit, quod videlicet reliquerunt, an ad quod redierunt.

However, Dr. Eales has thought differently and translated accordingly.

The words remordente eos conscientia quod retro abierint he translates, ' their conscience troubling them because they quitted you', i.e., the Abbot of St. Mary's.

And the words .

. quod videlicet reliquerunt, an ad quod redierunt he translates, ' the state which they have left or that which they have embraced '.

TO GEOFFREY, THE ABBOT OF ST, MARY'S ABBEY, YORK

And now what shall I do so as not to give offence either by not answering your letter or by what I answer?

Perhaps it would be best for me to send you to one more learned than myself, one whose prestige and holiness entitle him to speak with greater authority than I.

In his book on Pastoral Care! St. Gregory says:

' The second best is unlawful for one who has chosen the best'.

And to confirm this he quotes the words of the Evangelist:

' No man who puts his hand to the plough and then looks back is fit for the kingdom of heaven',

From this he concludes that anyone is guilty of looking back who, having once undertaken great things, leaves them for something less perfect.' And likewise in his third homily on Ezechiel he says:

'There are some who while leading as good a life as they know, decide, while leading it, on something more perfect, but afterwards change their minds and retract the good intentions they had. They continue in the good way they had begun, but fall away from the better one they had intended.

Such persons appear to do well before the eyes of men, but before God they have fallen away.'

2. Behold a mirror!

May they consider in it not only their bodily features, but the facts of their turning back.

Herein let them examine and judge themselves, their thoughts answering for and against them, according to what that spiritual man has said who judges all things, but is himself judged by no man.

It is not for me rashly to decide, but for them to make up their minds whether what they have left or what they have returned to is greater or less, higher or lower, harder or easier.

St. Gregory has spoken to them.

But to you, reverend father, I can say with the assurance of complete certainty and the naked truth that it would not be well for you to try to extinguish the spirit: ' Suffer him to do good who may, and thou thyself, when thou mayest, do good'.

Rather should you take a pride in the progress of your sons, because it is written that a wise son is the pride of his father.

For the rest let no one be offended with me because I have not hidden the righteousness of God in my heart,? unless it should seem to anyone that in order to avoid giving offence I have said less than I should.

LETTER 169

TO THE SAME

To the venerable Dom Geoffrey, Abbot of the Church of St. Mary at York, greetings in the Lord from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

T has pleased your Reverence to consultme by letter on some doubtful 'ft matters.

But I am fearful of delivering a decided opinion on these and like matters in proportion as, regarding as clearly as a man may

1 Chap. 28.

2 Cf. Rule of St. Benedict, Chap. 2.

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the designs of Divine Providence, I hesitate to shock others by sayin what they do not wish to hear.

And this is especially the case wit those whose conscience is troubled by the worries of a too subtle mind and bemused in a fog of difficult and tortuous reasoning.

But it is the avenger of its own voluntary blindness because, while it tries to justify to itself what it has done it suffers pricks and twinges from the truth which it remembers.

The psalmist bewails the bitterness of such a frame of mind and prays:

' Bring my soul out of prison, O Lord, that I may praise thy name'.

Do not therefore, I beg your Reverence, attribute it to any craftiness on my part if I am not able to answer your enquiries in the way you want, or if I do not venture to say what I want quite openly.

Your letter takes its complexion from the complaints with which it begins. You bemoan the fact that in your old age some of your monks should have dared to desert you in order to pass to a more straight and safe way of life.

Take care that your grief is not the grief of this world which ' worketh death'.

2. Surely if reason counts for anything in the opinions of men it should not be a matter for grief that someone should sometimes try to observe the laws of his Creator more strictly.

And indeed we superiors are not watching over the souls of our sons with sufficient holiness and fatherly care if we resent their spiritual progress.

If you want sound counsel, as I have no doubt you do, then I advise you not only to make it your business to see that those who remain with you in a mitigated observance of the Rule do not fall away, but also, according to the words of the Prophet, to "bring out bread' to meet those whose conscience did not suffer them to continue living in a manner out of keeping with the full purity of their vows and who have passed from the good way in which they began to a higher state of life.

It should be your especial care to see that the former do not become reckless to their own ruin, and to encourage the latter that they may progress to their own glory.

Surely those who have ' set their heart on the upward journey', who go from virtue to virtue, will deserve all the more joyously to see the God of gods in Sion for having tried to follow more exactly a purer way of life.

3. And now about those two monks, Gervase and Ralph, who set out in the company of the others with the paternal and episcopal sanction of the Lord Archbishop Thurstan, having been released (as you admit) by yourself.

Iam sure that had they persevered in the pure state of life to which they had risen, they would have done, not wrongly,

1 The text here is not quite obvious.

Verum de his et similibus tanto quid certum respondere pertimescimus, quanto minus divine voluntatis beneplacitum, sicut homines, ad purum intuentes, proximorum animos, si quicquam aliud quam volunt edicimus, offendere dubitamus.

Eales. who claims to have translated the text of the letters literally, has:

' But I am afraid to give "any decisive answer; and hesitate the more to do so, inasmuch as if men with the purest intentions are unable to discern the minds of their nearest companions, they are still less able to discern the secret designs of the Divine Will.

Again, Lam atraid in so speaking to wound those who do not share my Own opinion ..

TO GEOFFREY, THE ABBOT OF ST. MARY'S ABBEY, YORK

but well.

But I am also sure that if they wished to resume again that pure state from which they heedlessly fell away, they would be all the more praiseworthy on account of their courage, as soldiers are all the more glorious for their victory when they have returned willingly to the field of battle after having once shamefully deserted.

It is my opinion that although the release you gave can be revoked, yet it cannot be rendered void before the judgement-seat of God.

You admit their way of life is more holy yet you say that on account of the frailty of the flesh and the ties of personal relationship they cannot sustain for long the hardship of it. But you go on to say that their présence is necessary to you and to express grave doubts as to whether they can remain without fault in a position in which they did not place themselves without scandal.

4. One must distinguish between different sorts of scandal, and carnal affections must be completely cut off for the love of Christ.

The Gospels thunder exceedingly, the whole of Scripture cries out on every page, that worldly advantage must be abandoned for the good of the soul, and to ignore this is not only wrong, it is almost heretical.

Tam not at all sure that such a return as you hope for ought not to be regarded as a grave sin.

It is a most dangerous thing, not far short of a catastrophe, to presume on the mercy of God at the expense of his justice and, as it were, to play one off against the other, or in the words of Scripture ' to add sin to sin, and say: The mercy of God is great'.

It is a mistaken sort of discretion to put small things before great, and to place the worse on the same footing as the better.

5. After this you go on to demand vigorously why those who return should be called apostates seeing that they are only trying to fulfil their vows according to the recognized customs of their house.

It is not for me to condemn them.

The Lord knows who are his own and everyone shall bear his own burden.

He whom the darkness does not comprehend shall be known as the Lord on the day of judgement, and ' the wicked shall contrive their own undoing'.

Let everyone judge of himself as leniently as he likes, but I shall say what I think of myself.

I, Bernard, if I had in will and deed passed freely from something good to something better, from something dangerous to something safer, and then afterwards wilfully returned again to what I had changed for the better, I would very much fear that I had rendered myself not only an apostate, but also unfit for the Kingdom of God.

And this is what blessed Gregory says:

' Whoever ', he says, * attempts the best renders the second best unlawful for himself, since it is written:

"No one who puts his hand to the plough and then looks back is fit for the Kingdom of God".

And whoever once he has undertaken great things falls back on something less excellent is guilty of looking back.'

With regard to a certain excommunication you wish to discuss, to my mind it would not profit you to consider it, nor me to

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give an opinion on it. The law judges no man without a hearing and it is rash to launch an excommunication against an absent person.

LETTER 170

TO THURSTAN, ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

To his most dear father and reverend lord Thurstan, by the grace of God Archbishop of York, greetings from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

HE splendour of your work and your reputation amongst men have Case ee greatly, as I know, to your credit.

Your deeds prove that yours is no undeserved or empty reputation for facts themselves bear out what hitherto has everywhere been reported of you.

How, especially of late, has your zeal for righteousness shone forth, your priestly activity stood out and been strong in the defence of poor monks who had no helper!

All the Church has told of your deeds of mercy and alms-giving, but this you have in common with many others for it is the duty of all who possess the substance of this world.

But this episcopal work, this eminent example of fatherly piety, this truly divine fervour and zeal wherewith he without doubt has inspired and girded you for the protection of his poor, who 'has made his angels like the winds, the servants that wait upon him like a flame of fire', all this is wholly yours, the ornament of your dignity, the mark of your office, a glorious jewel in your crown.

It is one thing to fill the belly of the hungry, and another to have a zeal for poverty.

The one is the service of nature, the other the service of grace.

"Thou shalt visit thy kind and not sin ', the Scriptures say, therefore we care for others that we may not sin, but when we honour the holiness of another we benefit ourselves.

Hence it is also said: Let your alms grow warm in your hand until you find a just man to whom you may give them.

For whose advantage?

'He that receives a just man in the name of a just man, shall receive the reward of a just man.'

It is because you do both these things, fulfilling both the service of nature and the service of grace, that I admire you and recognize that it is given to you from above to do this, so that the praise of all you have done to relieve our temporal necessities may mingle for ever with the divine praises, O most truly reverend and most deservedly lovable father !

LETTER 171

TO RICHARD, ABBOT OF FOUNTAINS, AND TO HIS BRETHREN

Vacandard dates this letter at 1133-34.1

The Geoffrey mentioned at the end of the letter is Geoffrey of Ainai, an experienced and elderly monk, whom St. Bernard sent to Fountains in order to instruct the religious in * Vacandard, Vie de S. Bernard, 1927 edn., Vol. I, Pp. 413 u.

TO DAVID, KING OF SCOTLAND

Cistercian observance.

The formal affiliation to Clairvaux took place about 1134-35. wet great things have I heard and known, and our brothers, the two Geoffreys, have told me of you! How you have been inflamed anew by the fire of God, how from weakness you have risen to strength, how you have blossomed afresh into a holy newness of life!

This is the hidden work of the finger of God, sweetly renewing and wholesomely changing the spirit within you, not, indeed, from evil to good, but from good to better. Who will grant that I may come over and see this great sight? Your progress from good to better is no less wonderful, no less gratifying, than a conversion from evil to good.

It is much more easy to find many men of the world who have been converted from evil to good than it is to find one religious who has progressed from good to better.

Anyone who has risen even a little above the state he has once attained in religion is a very rare bird indeed.1

But your most salutary and remarkable action has not only given great joy to myself who wish so much to serve your holiness, but also to the whole Church, since it is all the more celebrated for being so rare.

The merest prudence demanded that you should rise above that mediocrity which is so near to apostasy and leave behind you that tepidity which God vomits from his mouth; but it was also a matter of conscience.

You yourselves discovered whether or not it were safe for those who have vowed to observe the Holy Rule to remain in a stage below what is required by it. I regret deeply that the pressure of my daily cares and the impatience of the messenger oblige me to limit the expression of my full heart and to compress my affection for you within the compass of a short note.

But Brother Geoffrey will supply for my brevity by word of mouth.

LETTER 172

TO DAVID, KING OF SCOTLAND

This letter was written about 1134 in favour of the new foundation at Fountains.

To the Lord David, the most excellent King of Scotland, worthy of all love in Christ, greetings and eternal life, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

- HAVE long since learned to love you, most illustrious king, your fair I renown has for long stirred in me the desire to meet you in person.

This is my desire and relying on the words, ' The Lord has heard the desire of the poor ', Iam confident in the Lord that one day I shall see you in the body whom even now I delight to gaze upon in spirit and imagination, and whom I constantly think of with such pleasure and 1 Horace, Satire, 2.26,

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joy. Our brothers at Rievaulx were the first to experience the effects we your mercy.

You opened to them the treasury of your good will and anointed them with the oil of your compassion and kindness, so that the house of the King of heaven was filled with the odour of your ointments.

Iam not ungrateful for this, I am as grateful as if you had shown your favours to me personally.

And now there are other brothers in the same neighbourhood who have lately joined us.

I do not think that your Highness can be ignorant of how these brothers, inspired from on high, came forth into a desert place from the Church of the blessed Mary at York where the observance was perfunctory.

They have had to endure many persecutions and injuries inflicted on them sometimes with force and sometimes with guile. They were rich and they abounded in the goods of this world, but they have chosen to become poor for the love of Christ, true followers of the apostolic life and sanctity.

If they had been of the world, the world would have loved them, according to the words of the Lord.

But now that they are not of the world, the world persecutes them.

With the help of God they bear patiently whatever the world does to them but we, who fear God, should help his servants in their troubles.

To you therefore, most merciful king, I commend these aforesaid servants of Christ that you may comfort them in their poverty, looking to Christ, the King of kings, for the meed which he will distribute to the just in his eternal kingdom.

LETTER 173

TO ALEXANDER, THE PRIOR OF FOUNTAINS, AND TO HIS BRETHREN

Richard, the first Abbot of Fountains, died on the last day of April, 1139.

The community elected as abbot his namesake, Richard, who had been the sacristan at St. Mary's, York, before the breakaway.

This Richard died at Clairvaux in the year 1143-44, and Henry Murdac was elected as his successor.

Murdac was a Yorkshireman of fiery and combative temperament and both these qualities were to find ample scope when he was elected Archbishop of York in opposition to William Fitzherbert in the year 1147.

His arrival at Fountains was signalized by strong disciplinary measures.

He enforced the full observance of every Clairvaux use and tradition.

In the Benedictine edition the death of Richard, the second Abbot of Fountains, is mistakenly given as 1138 and this letter is dated for the same year."

More probably it was written in the year 1143-44, when Richard II died and Murdac was elected in his place.

To his very dear brothers in Christ, Alexander the Prior and all the convent of Fountains, greetings and his humble prayers, from Brother

Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

1 Knowles, op. cit., pp. 255, 139.

* Richardus secundus mortuus in Clara-valle anno 1138, die 1 if i i i f , 5 Mati.

Op. Snti Bernardi Abbatis

M.DCC.XIX.

See Knowles, loc. cit., and Watkin Williams, Life of Si Baked p. 173.

TO HENRY MURDAC

ie venerable father has finished his course and fallen asleep in the Lord.

I have always had a fatherly care for you as if you were my own sons, and now all the more so for the great predicament in which you find yourselves.

I would have sent someone to you long ago, but I have been waiting until I could do so conveniently and helpfully, because the venerable Abbot Henry,! whom I had from the first destined for you, as he is capable and would, I believe, be very useful to you in the present business, has been prevented by affairs from coming immediately.

Receive him, dearest brothers, with the love and honour he deserves, and listen to him in all things, as you would to myself, in fact more than you would to myself for his virtue and judgement far exceed mine.

I have given him full authority to act in the matter of this election and in anything that may need regularizing or correcting in your monastery or the others.

I have sent with him William, a very dear son of mine.

2. And now I entreat you, dearest sons, to be all of one mind in this election and not to suffer factions to arise amongst you, but that you, one and all, with one mouth, glorify God.

He is not the God of discord but of peace, and so his dwelling place is in peace and he says:

"He that gathereth not with me, scattereth'.

May the enemy never be able to gloat over those whose master is the Holy Spirit in the school of Christ and glory in their dissensions because their souls are thereby endangered and all the labour of their penances rendered void, because the fair name of our Order is sullied and those whose especial duty it is to glorify the name of Christ cause it to be blasphemed.

Rather, as befits holy men and servants of Christ, choose for yourselves with one voice, as I have every confidence you will, a worthy shepherd of your souls, in company with the Abbots of Rievaulx and Vauclair,2 whose advice I wish you to follow as if it were my own.

LETTER 174

TO HENRY MURDAC

Henry Murdac was first Abbot of Vauclair, then Abbot of Fountains, and finally Archbishop of York.

To his very dear brother Abbot Henry, greetings and prayers, from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux. cHarcE you, Brother Henry, that you submit out of charity to the | choice of our brothers at Fountains if, with the advice of the venerable Abbot of Rievaulx, they elect you as their abbot.

I do this very unwillingly, knowing that by your absence a great comfort will 1 Henry Murdac, Abbot of Vauclair.

2 William, the first abbot of Rievaulx, and Henry Murdac.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

be lost to me.

But I am afraid of resisting the choice of our brethren at Fountains, since I believe that when so many religious agree together, their decision is the will of God, according to the words I read in the Gospel: 'Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them'.

So stir yourself, dearest brother, and receive their professions of obedience and care for them as the shepherd of their souls.

Have no fear for the house which you have been ruling.

It is quite near to me so, God willing, I shall be able to sce that it has a capable administrator.

And do not hesitate for the sake of the bishop, you can leave that to me.

LETTER 175

TO THURSTAN, ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

Thurstan remained at his post as archbishop until he felt the approach of death, and then he went to the Abbey of Pontefract, where he died a monk of Cluny in the year 1141.

To his reverend father and lord, Thurstan, by the grace of God Archbishop of York, health more of the soul than of the body,? from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

PRAISE your desire for quiet and your wish to rest peacefully in the I Lord.

But the reasons you give do not seem to me in themselves sufficient for abandoning your pastoral care, unless perhaps (which I am sure is not the case) you have committed some grave sin or have obtained the permission of the Holy See,? for I am sure you are not ignorant of those words of the Apostle:

' Are you married to a wife?

Then do not go about to free yourself'.

No promise such as you say you have made? can be binding on a bishop so as to impede the ministry to which he is called.

2. It seems best to me, if I can say so without prejudice to the wiser opinions of wise men, that you should stay where you are and exhibit in a bishop the dress and holy life of a monk.

But if there is some secret reason for your resignation or if the Lord Pope has gratified your wish for quiet, my advice, such as it is, is that you should not be put off from joining some house where you see great purity of observance by fear of any degree of poverty or rough clothes and victuals.

Bear in mind that in such houses, although the soul is the first concern, yet due regard is always given to physical weakness and age.

I am your servant so as always to pray God fervently for you that he may

. salutem non tam in via, quam in patria.

Eales translates:

'. .

. wishes health in the present life and in the future life eternal '.

* St. Bernard recognizes two reasons which would justify a bishop relinquishing his office, viz. some grave crime or the permission of the Holy See.

* Thurstan made a promise in his early youth to become a monk of Cluny.

TO THE MONKS OF GRACE-DIBU

inspire you to do what is best and grant that you may bear the burden and heat of the day, so as to receive in the evening of your life the meed of your labours in coin that bears his image.

LETTER 176

TO THE MONKS OF GRACE-DIEU

This letter is to a foundation known as ' Grace-Dieu'.

There were two foundations of this name in St. Bernard's time.

One of these was from a daughter. house of Morimond in the year 1139, and the other was in Poitou from Clairvaux in 1135.

It seems clear that this letter is addressed to the latter.

To his most dear brothers who are at Grace-Dieu, Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux, strength in the Lord and in the power of the Most High.

Ho will give me the wings of a dove that I may fly away'

Wind see the good zeal of my sons, their progress, peace, order, and discipline?

I want to see the new inhabitants in their new site, how they observe their Rule! among strangers, how they 'sing the song of the Lord in a strange land'.

Already I have flown to you in imagination and am with you in spirit but, according to the words of the Lord, "the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak ' and cannot just now follow the spirit.

But later on I will come, if ever I receive back from the Lord my old strength.

But do you, in the meantime, stay where you are, yea, and progress in what you have undertaken, for, so soon as anyone begins to falter, immediately he ceases to progress.

LETTER SI7

TO ST. AILRED, ABBOT OF RIEVAULX?

In this letter St. Bernard urges St. Ailred to write something on charity.

This letter always appears as an introduction to St. Ailred's Speculum Charitatis as from Gervase, Abbot of Louth Park, but Dom André Wilmart

1 Quomodo apud extraneos militant; Cf. Sti Benedicti Regula Monach., p. 1 et passim, y.

2 The ' Bernard of the North'.

One of the most attractive figures in English monasticism.

Not only a true Cistercian and a true disciple of St. Bernard, but also an able administrator.

His works are printed in P.L., t. cxcv, col. 209-796, with the exception of the Sermon on the Saints of Hexham, edited by J. Raine and published by the Surtees Society; the Regula Inclusorum, printed by the Maurists as an appendix to St. Augustine; and De Jesu Puero Duodenni, printed

'by the Maurists in St. Bernard's works.

He was by birth completely English and connected with landed families between Hexham and Durham.

He became associated with the Scottish Court and held the post there of steward or seneschal.

Vide The Monastic Order in England, by David Knowles, Vol. 1; also Vita Ailredi, by his disciple Walter Daniel, and an appreciation of his character by his tricnd Gilbert, Abbot of Swineshead, written on hearing of his death: Gilbert

Hoilandensis, Serm. 41 in Cariticum, printed in the appendix of St. Bernard's works by Mabillon.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

has proved conclusively that the writer of it is St. Bernard of Clairvaux.* And indeed, as Prof. David Knowles observes,? the style clamat dominum.

HE great virtue of the saints is humility, but a sincere and discreet Sie ci, True humility does not consort with untruthfulness and it is in no way helped by the sacrilege of disobedience.

I have besought you, I have commanded you, I have even charged you in the sacred name of the Most High, to write some little thing for me whereby the grievances might be answered of those who are trying to follow the narrow way after a life of self-indulgence.

I do not condemn, I do not blame your excuses, but I do reproach your obstinacy.

It was an act of humility to make excuses, but it is not humble to disobey.

Where is the humility in refusing to consent to my wishes?

Indeed to defend oneself in this way smacks of the sin of the soothsayers, such stubbornness is like the sin of idolatry.

You complain that it would be too heavy a burden for weak shoulders and that it would be more prudent to refuse to undertake it than to break down under it. I grant that I am placing on you a heavy burden, that it is hard, even impossible.

But even so you have no excuse.

I persist in my opinion and I repeat my command.

What will you do?

Surely what he, to whose Rule you have vowed obedience, has said that a monk should do in such circumstances:

'If a superior still persist in his command, let the young monk know that it is expedient for him; and let him obey out of love, trusting in God'.

You have done what you ought to have done to excuse yourself, if not more than you ought to have done.

You have gone as far as is allowed.

You have pointed out all the reasons why you cannot obey. You have said that you are ignorant of grammar, that you are almost illiterate; that you have come to the desert, not from the schools, but from the kitchen; that you have since lived a rustic and rough life amidst rocks and mountains, earning in the sweat of your brow your daily bread with axe and maul; and that flights of oratory ill become your poor fishermen's clothes.*

I most gratefully accept your excuses, they serve rather to inflame than extinguish the spark of my desire, because knowledge that comes from the school

1 André Wilmart, L'Instigateur du Speculum Charitatis d'Aelred Abbé de Rievaulx in Revue

@ Ascétique et de Mystique, Oct., 1933.

2 David Knowles, op. cit.

5 For the understanding of this passage it is necessary to read the whole reference in the Rule of St. Benedict, Chap. 68: 'If on any brother there be laid commands that are hard and impossible, let him receive the order of his superior with all meekness and obedience.

But if he sees that the burden altogether exceeds his strength, let him lay before his superior the reasons of his incapacity patiently and in due season, without showing pride, or resistance, or contradictoriness.'

'The 'kitchen' is a reference to the post St. Ailred held as steward in the Scottish Court.

But in speaking of himself as ' ignorant of grammar ' and ' almost illiterate ' (minus grammaticum et pene illiteratum) he was using a very strong hyperbole.

St. Ailred would have been better educated than most so-called educated people of to-day.

'Though he was not trained in the schools he had clearly been well taught by one who was familiar with the new humanism.

Vide David Knowles, op. cit.

TO ST. AILRED, ABBOT OF RIEVAULX

of the Holy Spirit rather than the schools of rhetoric will savour all the sweeter to me and because you 'have this treasure in an earthen vessel, that the excellency may be of the power of God'.

What a joyous thing it is, what a presage of the future, that you should have come to the desert from the kitchen, so that as one who has been entrusted for a time with providing food for the body in a royal kitchen, you may now provide spiritual food for spiritual men and feed the hungry with the food of God's word in the house of the King of kings. What you say about your mountains and rugged rocks does not disconcert me at all, nor am I horrified at the thought of your great valleys, for now 'the mountains drop down sweetness, the hills flow with milk and honey, and the valleys are filled with corn', now

'honey is sucked out of rocks and oil out of the hardest stone', and rocks and mountains are the pasture of the Lord's sheep. And so I think that with that maul of yours you will be able to strike something out of those rocks that you have not got by your own wits from the bookshelves of the schoolmen, and that you will have experienced sometimes under the shade of a tree during the heats of midday what you would never have learned in the schools.

Not unto yourself, not unto yourself give the glory, but render it unto him who has not only rescued you from 'the pit of misery and mire of dregs', from the house of death and the unclean place, but 'hath made a remembrance of his wonderful works, being a merciful and gracious Lord', and so as to xaise more generously the hopes of sinners he has given. sight to the blind, knowledge to the ignorant, instruction to the unskilled. And so why do you blush and hesitate to give what I ask, when everyone who knows you will know it is not yours that you give? Why do you dissemble?

Why do you refuse to give even at the command of him who gave you all you have to give? Do you fear the envy of some or to be thought presumptuous?

As if anyone has ever written anything useful without incurring envy!

Or as if anyone could accuse you of presumption who are only obeying your abbot! I therefore order you in the name of Jesus Christ, and in the Spirit of our God, that you do not delay to write down those thoughts that have occurred to you, in your long meditations, concerning the excellence of charity, its fruit, and its proper order, so that we may see in what you write, as ifin a mirror, what charity is, how great sweetness there is in the possession of it, how much heaviness and sorrow there is in cupidity which is the contrary of it, and that exterior troubles, so far from diminishing it, as many believe, only serve to increase it, and finally what discretion there should be in the exercise of it.

But, for the sake of your modesty, let this letter be put at the beginning of the work, so that whatever in the Mirror of Charity (for that is the name

I give it) should displease the reader shall be imputed to me who have commanded it and not to you who have obeyed by writing it.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 178

TO ALBERO OF MONTREUIL, ARCHBISHOP OF TREVES

This letter was written to Albero of Montreuil, Archbishop of Treves, 1131-1152, concerning the troubles of the Convent of St. Maur at Verdun.

To the venerable lord and most beloved father Albero, by the grace of God Archbishop of Tréves, Legate to the Apostolic See, from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, that he may find grace before God.

F you bear with me when I seek my own interests, how much more I ought you to bear with me when I seek the interests of Christ and not my own? But the interests of Christ are my own, for he is our flesh and our brother.

I take upon myself the mercy of Christ who took upon himself the chastisements I deserved, * even unto death, the death of the cross'.

'The servant is not above his lord.'

I do not consider any of the reproaches Christ suffered at the hands of men as no concern of mine, who, on my account, became 'the reproach of men and the outcast of the people'.

I pity his lot who had pity on mine and gave himself up for me.

O God, the women * have come into thine inheritance, they have defiled thy holy temple'. I refer to the Convent of St. Maur at Verdun.

Behold there the inheritance of the Lord, because it is his inheritance, it is his temple, but a defiled temple, a temple defiled by a double sacrilege, for by alienating themselves from Christ, they have taken from God what belongs to him.

'Holiness becomes thy house, O Lord', but the house of prayer has become a house of ill-fame and a den of robbers.

The dwelling-place of thy glory has become a lair of dragons, and no one heeds it. Does it satisfy your Lordship that God should lose his inheritance in your diocese while you are bishop?

Will you return evil for good? God "hast exalted thee above thy fellows' and therefore you should take his part.

If you say it is nothing to do with you, I ask you how you can extricate yourself from the implications of that saying: 'He shares another's guilt who does not prevent his sin when he can'? The * Virgin of Jerusalem' has fallen, and shall she rise no more?

Clothe yourself with pity and hold out the hand of mercy.

If you are a friend of the Bridegroom bring the bride out of ' where the mire has settled deep'.

Write to them that they must abide by the decision of those to whom they entrusted the election, for otherwise there would be great embarrassment for her who was elected, for those who elected her, and for the church of Rheims of which she is the daughter.

Or else, if you do not persuade them by fear and by your Pia I tell you that your reputation will suffer much in the neighourhood.

I do not presume to judge your conscience, but I pray

TO POPE INNOCENT II

the Spirit of all truth that he may teach your heart ' to refuse evil and choose the good'.

THE LANGRES CONTROVERSY

Tue following letters are concerned with a controversy over the election of the Bishop of Langres, which took place between St. Bernard on one side and the Archbishop of Lyons with Peter the Venerable on the other.

After the schism, but before he had left Rome, St. Bernard was approached by the Archbishop of Lyons; Robert, the Dean of Langres; and Ulric, a canon of the same church, to enlist his help in obtaining permission to fill the vacancy caused by the recent death of the Bishop of Langres.

The Pope had insisted that they should be guided by the advice of ' religious persons' in the matter of electing a successor.

It is not easy to say what is the exact significance of the term ' religious persons' in this context.

Probably it meant men of sound faith and piety, and not necessarily only abbots of monasteries.

Bernard was not quite easy about the matter and he only consented to help if they would give him some assurance that they would elect a worthy man.

After much discussion, two names were eventually selected out of a great number of possible candidates.

All agreed that they would choose either one or other of these two.

The permission of the Pope to go forward with the election was granted on the express condition that the electors should abide by this arrangement, and they promised to do so.

But no sooner had the archbishop got back to Lyons than he threw over the agreement he had made with Bernard, and chose a totally different candidate.

Whether or not he was the evil man that Bernard implies, it is not easy to say.

Peter the Venerable hotly denies the slur cast on the character of the man by the Abbot of Clairvaux and attributes it to mere Cistercian prejudice.

On the other hand although we cannot identify the man for certain, we do know that he was a Cluniac monk, and so cannot be surprised that he was supported by his abbot.

As soon as he had been chosen, Peter presented him to Louis le Jeune, King of France, to be invested with the regalia of the see, and not long afterwards he was consecrated Bishop of Langres by the Archbishop of Lyons, the Bishop of Autun, and the Bishop of Macon.

The electors were the very men who had met Bernard in Rome and made the aforesaid agreement with him.

Bernard immediately appealed to Rome on the groynds that the election had been uncanonical.

Whatever the moral character of the man might have been, there is no doubt at all that the matter had been carried through with a high hand and that the saint's attitude was impregnable from a canonical point of view.

The outcome of all this was that the Pope quashed the election; but to the extreme embarrassment of Bernard his delegates immediately nominated himself.

He refused to accept the nomination.

In the end Bernard's alter ego, Godfrey de la Roche, Prior of Clairvaux, was chosen.

There still remained the king to be placated.

He had invested the former candidate in the temporalities of his see and felt it might be beneath his regal dignity to annul his action.

However he at last yielded to the persuasions of Bernard and confirmed the appointment of Godfrey. The consecration followed soon afterwards, in October, 1138.

Peter the Venerable took his defeat graciously and maintained unimpaired his love and admiration for the Abbot of Clairvaux.

LETTER 179

TO POPE INNOCENT II

ite I was still in Rome the lord Archbishop of Lyons happened V \ to arrive there, bringing with him Robert the Dean of Langres and Ulric, a canon of the same church.

They were hoping to obtain

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

for themselves and for the Chapter of Langres leave to elect a new bishop. The Pope had forbidden them to attempt this except under the advice of religious men.

When they asked me to help secure the Pope's permission to go forward with the election, I said that I would have nothing whatsoever to do with the matter until I was satisfied that they were going to elect a good and worthy man.

They replied to this that it was their intention to leave the matter entirely in my hands and take no step without first consulting me.

And this they promised me.

But as I was still uneasy in my mind about the matter the archbishop himself came to persuade me, and he too firmly promised the same thing. He said that if the clergy acted otherwise than by my advice, he would refuse to confirm or ratify their action.

The chancellor was brought forward as a witness.

Still unsatisfied I sought out the lord Pope so that this arrangement might be confirmed by his authority, but I did not take this step before we had discussed the election at great length.

As a result of these discussions, out of the great many names that were mentioned we finally chose two, and agreed that none of us would have any objection to the election of either one or the other of these.

After this the lord Pope commanded that we should firmly abide by this arrangement we had come to, and this both the archbishop and the clergy promised to do. When they had gone I too set out for home, after remaining on in the city for a day or two in order to obtain leave for my departure from the lord

Pope.

; 2. As I crossed the Alps news reached me that a man had been chosen for the see of Langres of whom I could have wished that I had heard better reports, and that a day in the near future had been settled for the consecration.

I do not wish to repeat what I only heard about him with great reluctance.

Certain religious persons, who had come to meet me and welcome me back, were for my turning aside and passing through Lyons so as to prevent, if I could, such a disaster.

I had intended to return the shorter way for I was tired and ill and did not put much trust in the rumours that had reached me.

For who would believe that such a man as the Archbishop of Lyons could be so fickle as to disregard not only his recent promise to me but also the mandate of his lord the Pope, and lay hands without misgiving on a man of such evil report?

But in deference to the advice of these religious persons who had come to meet me I turned my steps towards

Lyons. When I arrived there I found everything had transpired just as I had been told.

Preparations were on foot for the great or, rather, the disastrous event.

Yet the dean and, unless I am deceived, the greater part of the canons of Lyons were firmly and openly opposed.

But the shameful and shocking news, spreading and growing on all sides, had filled the city.

3. What could I do?

I approached the archbishop respectfully and

TO POPE INNOCENT II

reminded him of the agreement we had made and of the mandate he had received from the lord Pope.

He admitted everything, but laid the blame for his faithlessness at the door of the duke's son! who, he said, had recoiled from the arrangement he had made, so that he had been obliged to act in this capricious way in order not to upset him, or in other words to keep the peace.

He added that whatever he might have done hitherto, he would act from now on as I wanted.

"Not as I want', said I, ' but as God wants.'

And I told him that he might best discover God's will in the matter by laying it all before a council of the bishops and other religious persons who had come, or were coming, to Lyons on his invitation: and that if, after invoking the Holy Spirit, they should feel moved to agree to the necessity for proceeding with the affair as it had been begun, then by all means let him do so; but if not, then in obedience to the apostolic injunction he should refrain from laying hands rashly on any man.

He appeared to be satisfied with my advice.

In the meantime news came that the man had arrived, but at a hostelry, not at the palace.

He came on Friday night and left on Saturday morning.

It is not for me to say why he did not present himself at the curia, when he had ceiue a long journey expressly for this purpose.

It might have been attributed to monastic modesty and contempt for honours if what happened afterwards did not indicate the contrary.

For what else but the contrary to this could anyone believe when the archbishop, returning from seeing him, said in public that the man would not agree to what we had arranged for him, but had rejected it utterly ?

4. Finally the archbishop commanded the election to be held forthwith.

This is borne out by certain canons who were present at the time, as well as by a letter that can be produced.

When this letter was read in the Chapter at Lyons, another in a contrary sense was immediately produced and read out, to the effect that the consecration was postponed and not cancelled, and that a day and place were appointed for deciding the matter which the first letter had said was already decided.

You would have thought that these letters came not only from different people, but from people in flat opposition to each other, were it not that they bore the same seal and every page the same sienature, declaring thereby that they were from a source which flowed with sweet and bitter waters.

These letters are in our hands, and it would be impossible to obey the one without disobeying the other.

If you follow the first, you stand condemned by the second; if you follow the second, you are blamed by the first.

It were much to be desired that the second letter could as well defend itself against a third, as it had been able to nullify the first.

They are letters against letters, one command against another, not in the sense of the Prophet,

1 Son of Hugh II, Duke of Burgundy.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

'A command here, a command there', but rather command and countermand.

5. In the meantime the man who had fled from consecration and rejected election hastened to the king, and secured his investiture in the temporalities of his see, but on what grounds he alone could say.

Soon afterwards letters were sent out to change the place which had been arranged for the election and to anticipate the day, so that many of those who opposed it might be kept away by the inconvenience and an appeal against it forestalled.

But no contriving of man can avail against the will of the Lord, and it so happened by his providence that, in fact, there was no lack of those to oppose and appeal against the election.

Falk, the Dean of Lyons, appealed: Pontius, an archdeacon of Lyons, appealed; Bonami, a priest and canon of Lyons, appealed; an appeal was also lodged by our brothers Bruno and Geoffrey; and all these, knowing nothing of the schemes that seethed in the hearts of their opponents, arrived at the meeting quite by chance, but without any shadow of doubt under the providence of God. When I heard of the new arrangements there was but little time left for my messenger to arrive at the meeting and stop the sacrament or rather the sacrilege; in fact barely four days. But he did arrive nevertheless, and he was in time to oppose it and summon both the consecrators and their candidate to the Apostolic See.

And he was a canon of Lyons.

All that I have said is the very truth and no lie. The truth itself shall be my witness that I have said nothing out of personal hatred but, solely for the love of truth, have stated the facts as they stand.

LETTER 180

TO FALK, THE DEAN, AND GUY, THE TREASURER, OF THE CHURCH OF LYONS

ps you see, my dear friends, the sickness of our church is very great.

It will take much to cure it, and speed too.

We must be unremitting in our prayers to the heavenly doctor, saying: 'Come, Lord, before it dies'.

What greatly aggravates the trouble and renders it almost desperate is that it has its source just where one would be most entitled to expect help.

For who is it that has brought all this evil upon our unhappy church?

Certainly not any enemy or anyone who hates it, but an upright man, in fact its own leader and metropolitan.

How comes all this evil from the south and not now from the north?!

There is no grief like unto our grief, because it is just from those on whom we had put our hopes that we are suffering.

The church of Lyons, our loving mother, has chosen a monster and 1 Quomodo ab austro et non jam ab aquilone panditur omne malum.

A reference to Jeremias 1.14:

Ab aquilone pandetur malum:

' And it is from the north that calamity is brewing'.

TO POPE INNOCENT II

no bridegroom for her daughter. In this we feel her to have acted more like a stepmother than a mother.

How far has this her son-in-law fallen away from that ancient uprightness, gravity, and honesty for which she was so renowned!

How can I call that an honourable marriage and unsullied bridal-bed which has been contrived in such a way by sucha man?

Regardless of all law, order, and right reason everything has been so upset or, rather, everything has been evidently ventured on so deceitfully, inconsiderately, and rashly, that anyone would be ashamed to have a steward or tax-collector, let alone a bishop, appointed in this way.

But how can I praise you enough, my dear friends, who alone have had pity on our afflicted church and, not once but twice, have stood up for her when she was oppressed, rising up against her persecutors and protecting her like a wall around the house of Israel.

In the whole congregation there has not been found anyone like you to keep the law of the Most High, obey his holy canons, and emulate the zeal of Phinees by smiting the fornicators with the sword of your tongue.

These actions of yours make for both God's glory and your own honour, and it now only remains for you to bring the laudable work you have begun to a fitting end and thereby join the tail to the head of the victim.

LETTER 18%

TO POPE INNOCENT

NcE more I cry to you, once more I knock upon your door, with O tearful sighs if not with loud cries.

Repeated injuries by abandoned persons and by those who prolong their evil have forced me to repeat my cries.

They are triumphant in their faithlessness.

They add guilt to guilt and their insolence knows no bounds.

Their rage grows strong while their shame and their fear of God grows less.

Regardless of our appeal to you, Holy Father, and despite your just and prudent ruling, they have actually consecrated that same man whom they had dared to elect.

And they who have done this are the Archbishop of Lyons, and the Bishops of Autun and Macon; all friends of Cluny.

Their deceit and effrontery will cause great vexation to many holy men if they should be obliged to bear the burden imposed on them by such means.

They would regard it as being obliged to bow the knee before Baal or, in the words of the Prophet, ' to make terms with death and a compact with the grave itself'.

Where, I ask you, are justice, law, the authority of the sacred canons, the reverence due to your Majesty?

The right to appeal to you is not denied to any oppressed person, only to myselfis it of no avail.

Where gold rules and silver sits in judgement, the laws and canons are silent, the scales of justice are loaded, and right reason has no sway.

And, more outrageous even than this, these men are threatening to storm

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

with the same weapons the very citadel of the Apostolic See.

But that would be absurd for it is founded on a rock.

2. But what am I saying?

I confess I have gone too far.

It is not my business to accuse or censure anyone.

It is enough for me to voice my grief. When at last it pleased your Serenity to permit me to return to my brethren after the many disappointments and toils I had endured in the service of the Roman Church, I came back safely to my monastery, broken indeed in physical health, as a useless servant, yet nevertheless rejoicing for the sheaves of peace I was able to bring with me. I believed that I had left all my troubles behind me and come at last to peace, I hoped that I might be permitted to repair the hurt I had suffered in spiritual things while outside my monastery, the loss I had incurred in recollection; but sorrow and distress have found me out.

Now I lie prostrate on my bed, suffering more in my mind than in body.

It is not any temporal inconvenience that I am mourning.

'My soul is continually in my hands' and its salvation is at stake.

Would you wish that I should trust my soul to that man who has lost his own?

I know you would not.

For this reason I have said to myself that it were better to take flight than consume the rest of my days in grief, yet nevertheless in peril of my salvation.

But it were better that God should inspire you with a better course of action.

May he bring to your mind (if you should deem me worthy) how I have served you, and cause you to look with pity on your child and free your troubled son from his distress.

Bear in mind what great things God has done for you and, as some little return for it all, annul and undo what has been done amiss.

LET EER i832

TO THE SAME, ON THE SAME SUBJECT

M ost loving father, did you not strictly command that a religious and suitable person should be chosen to fill the vacancy in the church of Langres, and that the advice of myself, your child, should be followed in the matter?

And did not my lord of Lyons receive from your Holiness in person these instructions, to be as loyally followed as they had been firmly enjoined and persistently repeated?

And, in fact, did he not promise to do this? What then, { ask, does he mean by wanting to change what has been beneficially and advisedly decreed, and by trying on his own initiative to do something quite different and most unbecoming, so as to bring your Majesty into contempt and my Own insignificant person into ridicule?

How can that good man not blush to be found saying ' Yea and Nay 'to the same things while, in the teeth of your decree and his own promise, he tries to impose on the necks of so many religious persons, your servants, such a shameful yoke?

Enquire, my father, enquire very carefully into the references

TO THE ROMAN CURIA

of that man on whom he is hastening to lay hands.

Enquire both from those who are near at hand and from those who are far off.

As for me, very shame forbids me to repeat what common report says of him or, rather, what his evil reputation openly declares of him.

What can I say? My soul is sorrowful unto death.

I might already have fled away had I not been held by hope of consolation from your merciful heart.

I did intend to write the whole sorry story from the beginning, but my hand is paralyzed with sorrow, my mind is clouded with grief, and my tongue refuses to tell of the evil fraud, the deceit, the villainy, the trickery, and the audacity that have been perpetrated.

But your son, Ponce the archdeacon, who has conducted himself with great firmness and loyalty in the affair, will explain to you what has happened and what we implore to be done.

Trust him as you would myself.

There remains one thing I must say, as though in travail: unless these men are made to desist from their evil and audacious machinations, I feel that, as Iam now, ' my strength will ebb away for very misery; my years in mourning '.

LETTER 183

TO THE BISHOPS AND CARDINALS OF THE ROMAN CURIA, ON THE

SAME SUBJECT

Vee will remember, if you consider it worth recalling, how I I lived with you when the times were evil, going out and coming in and setting forth again at the king's bidding; staying with you and standing by you in your trials, until my strength became so worn out that, when heaven gave back peace to the Church, I was scarcely able to return home. I recall this, not for the sake of boasting or as a reproach to you, but so as to provoke, implore, advise, and beg of you the pity that is my due.

Dire need now obliges me to appeal to all my debtors.

As for myself, according to the words of the Lord I do not reckon myself as anything but a useless servant even when I have done all that I ought to have done.

But do I deserve to be beaten for having done my duty? Yet since leaving you, I have met with nothing but trouble and sorrow. I called upon the name of the Lord, but did not prevail; and I called upon your name too, but it availed me nothing for 'the gods of the earth'—that is to say the Archbishop of Lyons and the Abbot of Cluny—'are exceedingly exalted'.

These men, 'trusting in their own strength and boasting of their great possessions ' ' have drawn near and stood against me'.

And not against only me, but also against a great number of the servants of God, against you also, against themselves, in opposition to God, and all justice and honour.

2. In fine, they have set up a man over our heads whom the good abhor and the evil scorn.

By what right or, rather, by what wrong

THE LETTBRS OF ST. BERNARD

they have done this thing, let God see and judge; and let the Roman Curia also see: let it see and grieve, let it have pity upon the unfortunate and gird itself in their defence, and for the honour of the good. What?

Does it please thee, who art mistress of the world, set over all to execute vengeance on the proud and show mercy to the weak, does it please thee, I say, that ' the heart of the poor man should burn within him because the schemer that has entrapped him is so triumphant', the heart of that poor man who has poured out his sweat and blood in your service because he had nothing else to give? Does it seem right that you should enjoy your peace and care nothing for ours, that you should not share your consolations with us who have supported you in your trials?

If I have deserved well of you, then "rescue the poor and deliver the needy out of the hand of the sinner'.

Otherwise I will labour as I can amidst my grief, and tears will be my portion day and night.

But to you I will read that verse:

' Who defies the Lord's vengeance more surely than the friend who refuses compassion to a friend?' and:

' Friends and neighbours that meet me keep their distance now, old companions shun me.

I am assailed by enemies that grudge me life itself.'

LETTER 184

TO UMBALD,.A CARDINAL DEACON

There. were two cardinal deacons called Umbald at that time and it is not certain to which of the two this letter is addressed.

To my dear lord, friend, and master, Umbald, by the grace of God and favour of the Apostolic See, Cardinal Deacon, from Brother

Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux, that he may hunger and thirst after justice.

F you truly love me, then you must love me not only in word and tongue, but in deed and truth.

And what is more if you truly love justice, as you have hitherto professed or pretended to do, then you must deplore the affliction which Christ is now suffering at the hands of impious men at Langres, and who cries to you with the voice of the © church there: O Umbald, help me, for I am being persecuted by wicked men!

For at Langres Christ is once more suffering and persecuted in his members because the clergy and faithful there have a man as bishop who has not been elected in a proper and orderly manner, but who has been imposed upon them by fraud and force.

He is a man of unworthy life, bad reputation, and quite unsuited for the office, and he has been neither canonically elected nor licitly consecrated.

TO POPE INNOCENT II

LETTER 185

TO POPE INNOCENT, ON THE SAME SUBJECT

Y our affability has made me familiar, and my familiarity makes me bold. May you retain your accustomed kindness, or else my boldness will make you angry. Yet listen patiently, not only to what I have done, but also as to why I have done it, for perhaps my motives may be some excuse for my actions.

I have been so bold as to retain the clergy of Langres whom you had summoned to your presence, but not before peace had been established between them.

They have been persuaded to abide in future by the instructions they have received in their letters and hold an election according to your wishes and the advice of good men.

It was most necessary that they should remain just now for the sake of the lands and possessions of the church, which are pillaged and plundered as soon as there is no one at hand to look after and protect them.

If it should so please you, may the duty of electing someone pleasing to God be entrusted to men above suspicion, men who are seeking the glory of Jesus Christ and not their own interests, and so at last we shall be finished with this interminable and unhappy state of affairs in the church.

All that remains to be said I have entrusted to Dom Herbert the Abbot of St. Stephen at Dijon, the Archdeacon of Langres, and their companions.

I might also add that I hope you will receive under your protection the persons and goods of the Archdeacon of Langres and Bonami, a priest of the same church, for they have proved themselves loyal supporters of God's cause, and the labourer is worthy of his hire.

LETTER 186

TO LOUIS THE YOUNGER, KING OF FRANCE

The Pope had quashed the irregular election and consecration, and Bernard had been obliged to accept the choice of his prior, Godfrey de la Roche, for the see of Langres, after having refused it for himself.

But the king was making difficulties about investing the new candidate with the temporalities or regalia of the see.

He had already invested the former candidate with them and considered it beneath his royal dignity to countermand his action.

But the following letter was successful in persuading him to do so.

HOUGH all the world were to combine in making me attempt some- | Rane against your royal Majesty, yet I would fear God and not dare to oppose the king whom he had ordained.

I know where it is written, ' He that resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God'.

But I shall speak the truth to you because I also know how wrong it is for any Christian to lie, especially for one of my profession.

What happened at Langres concerning my prior happened contrary

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

to all my expectations, and contrary to the intentions of the bishops and myself.

But there is one who is able to secure the assent of unwilling men and compel them to serve the purpose he wishes, even against their wills.

Never have I feared a danger for myself that I have not also feared just as much for him whom I love as myself.

Never have I not shrunk from the company of those who would bind heavy burdens on the backs of men, and not lift a finger to move them.

But what has been done, is done; against you nothing, against myself alot.

The support of my weakness has been taken from me, the light of my eyes has been snatched away, my right hand has been cut off.

All these great storms and high waves have passed over me; wrath has come upon me and there is no way of escape open to me.

By flying from burdens I have brought them upon myself, unwelcome and unwanted.

I find it hard to kick against the pricks.

Perhaps it would have been more tolerable had I willingly accepted the burden instead of kicking against it and refusing it!

For if there is any strength in me, would it not be easier for me to carry it on my own shoulders rather than in the person of another ?

2. But I submit to one who has disposed otherwise.

To rebel against him, either in judgement or in action, would not be safe or even possible for me, nor would it be for you, because he is feared amongst all the kings of the earth.

It were an awful thing to fall into the hands of the living God, awful even for you, O king. How sorry I am to hear things of you so contrary to the fair promise of your beginnings.

But how much more bitter would be the sorrow of the Church if, after having tasted such fair joys from you, she were to be deprived (which God forbid) of the glad hope of having a shield in your good dispositions, such as she has had hitherto.

Alas the virgin, the church of Rheims, has fallen, and there is none to lift her up!

And the church of Langres has also fallen, and there is no one to hold out a hand to her. May the goodness of God take from your heart any intention of adding to our grief, of piling up sorrow upon sorrow for us!

I would rather die than see a king of such a fair reputation and of even better hopes, attempt to oppose the will of God and stir up against himself the wrath of the supreme Judge, bathe the feet of the Father of orphans in the tears of the afflicted, cause the portals of heaven to resound with the cries of the poor, the prayers of the saints, and the just complaints of the chaste bride of Christ who is the Church of the living God.

May God forbid such a thing! We hope for better things, we expect more joyful things of you.

God will not forget to be merciful, nor will his wrath set bounds to his pity.

He will not permit his Church to be saddened through him and on * Tolerabilius fortasse spontaneo, quam nolenti et renuenti fuisset.

Surely a reference to Bernard's rejection of the see for himself which led to his being obliged to part with his prior instead.

Eales translates:

'It would perhaps be more tolerable for a willing horse than for one who is restive and obstinate '.

TO LOUIS THE YOUNGER, KING OF FRANCE

account of him by whom he has already given her such joy on so many occasions.

And if you think otherwise, this also he will reveal to you, schooling your heart in wisdom.

This is our wish and our prayer day and night.

Believe this of me, and believe it of my brethren.

This truth will never be denied by us, and the honour of our king and the welfare of his realm will never be diminished by us.

3. We render thanks to your goodness for the kind answer you deigned to send us.

But nevertheless this delay terrifies us who see the land given up to pillage and plunder.

It is your land; and in this we clearly see and deplore a disgrace to your kingdom, that you should have commanded us to forgo our rights, because there is none to defend them.!

What else has been done that can be rightly said to have diminished your royal dignity? The election was duly held and the elected is faithful.

But he would not be faithful if he wished to hold your lands otherwise than by you.

He has not stretched forth his hand to your lands, he has not entered your city, and he certainly has not put himself forward in any matter although strongly urged to do so by the clergy and people, by the sufferings of the downtrodden, and by the wishes of all good men.

The state of affairs being what it is, you will see that you should take speedy counsel in the matter, as much for your own sake as for ours.

Unless your Highness can answer this petition by the messengers who bring it according to the wishes of the expectant people, your people, the hearts of many religious men ate are now devoted to you will be troubled, which would be most unfortunate; and I fear too that your very regalia, which appertains to the church, will suffer not a little damage.

' THE DISPUTE OVER THE ELECTION OF THE ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

Tue following letters concern the dispute over the election of the Archbishop of York.

We do not intend to enter into all the details of this rather involved affair.

Even after the careful researches of scholars there remains much that is not clear, and it is not easy to say on which side the rights lay. But in order to understand the letters some knowledge of the background is necessary."

The See of York became vacant on the death of Archbishop Thurstan in the year 1140.

It was clear from the first that the election of his successor would not be easy.

One of the candidates, Waldef of Kirkham, a Cistercian, was vetoed on political grounds by King Stephen.

After long negotiations William Fitzherbert, the treasurer and a son of Emma the king's sister, was elected.

But his reputation at 1 Terra vestra est: et in hoc plane cognoscimus et dolemus dedecus regni vestri, quod vos jure abhorrere mandastis, si non fuerit qui defendat. ales translates:

' The land is yours; and we plainly see and mourn the disgrace brought on your kingdom by your orders that we should abstain from our rights, inasmuch as there is no one to defend them'.

2For all the facts of this vexed affair we are indebted to Her Knowles, Monastic hee o

England, Vol. I, pp. 254 sqq; Watkin Williams, St. Bernard of C. airvaux, pp. 168 sqq, and the borate Hekbeeah of Dr C. H. Talbot, New Documents in the Case of Saint William of York,

Cambridge Historical Journal, Vol. X, no. 1, 1950.

Those wishing to study the matter further will find all they need in The Case of St. William of York by Prof. Knowles, Cambridge Historical

Journal, Vol. ff (1936), (62-77, 212-14.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

this time was not all that could have been hoped for in an archbishop, and his election was open to the gravest suspicions of intrusion and simony.

The Cistercian abbots of Rievaulx and Fountains and the Augustinian priors of Kirkham and Gisburn made trouble.

By virtue of the rights given them by the Lateran Council in 1139, they took an active interest in the election, and their responsibilities in the matter very seriously. ea Henry de Blois, the Papal Legate and Bishop of Winchester, advised William to take his case to Rome.

Henry supported William all through the dispute.

He was a forcible character and an ambitious one.

He had plans for raising his see to metropolitan rank, with York a mere appendage.

As soon as William Fitzherbert had left for Rome the Yorkshire abbots, probably at the instigation of St. Bernard, sent a deputation posthaste after him to put their side of the case.

They paused on their way at Clairvaux to receive instructions from the abbot.

Something that Fitzherbert omitted to do.

What brought St. Bernard into the dispute we do not know, but he had already thrown himself into the fray with all his characteristic fire and energy before the deputation from the Yorkshire abbots had arrived.

He immediately set about strengthening their hand with letters of introduction to powerful friends in Rome.

The case was heard in Rome during March, 1142.

The evidence was strong against the archbishop-elect, but the case broke down because the canons of the Church forbade the acceptance of secondhand evidence as grounds for proceeding against anyone.

Pope Innocent II packed the litigants back to England, and ordered the principals to come in person to Rome the following year on the third Sunday in Lent.

It should be borne in mind that the Cistercian abbots were running the gravest risks in appealing to Rome against the election of the king's candidate.

Their monasteries were in danger of confiscation and their Order of expulsion.

Even their lives were not safe.

The subsequent raid on Fountains and the mutilation of one of their party, Walter of London, prove that the danger was very real.

Both parties arrived in Rome for the final hearing of the case on March 7th, 1143.

But no settlement ensued, as William Fitzherbert appealed to the testimony of William of St. Barbe, Dean of York, who was not present in Rome.

The case was therefore referred back to England, and the Pope made his approval of the election contingent on William of St. Barbe undertaking to swear that pressure had not been brought to bear upon the Chapter by the king's men.

William of St. Barbe astutely avoided the issue by obtaining permission to substitute another approved witness in his stead.

How he arranged this is not clear, perhaps on the grounds that his see of Durham, to which he had been lately elected, demanded all his attention just then.

The substituted witnesses found no difficulty in swearing as they were required to do, so that on September 26th, 1143, William Fitzherbert was consecrated Archbishop of York by Henry de Blois, Bishop of Winchester.

But he had yet to receive the pallium.

With the decline of their cause and the increasing violence of their opponents the resistance of the Yorkshire abbots began to weaken.

St. Bernard planned to come. himself to give them heart and strengthen their spirit.

But the journey was too much for his weak health, and he arranged to send Henry Murdac in his stead.

He could hardly have chosen a better substitute.

Although a Cistercian of Clairvaux and an ex animo disciple of the abbot, Murdac was a Yurkshireman with influential connections in the county and a resolute character.

Unhappily circumstances postponed his departure until the following year.

In the meantime the cause of the Yorkshire abbots suffered another blow in the death of Richard, Abbot of Fountains.

When Murdac arrived at Fountains in 1144 he was elected abbot in his place.* ' Vide Letters 173 and £74.

TO POPE INNOCENT II

Innocent II had died in September, 1143, and was succeeded by Celestine I.

During the short reign of this Pope Henry de Blois fell from favour and lost his legatine authority.

Celestine died in 1144 to be succeeded by Lucius II, a friend of St. Bernard's.

As soon as the new Pope was elected, Henry de Blois tried to regain his position as Legate, but without success.

Hincmar, Cardinal Bishop of Frascati, was appointed in his stead and immediately dispatched to England with the pallium.

He paused at Clairvaux on the way.

The following year he returned to Rome without having bestowed the pallium.

But he had met Henry Murdac.

Lucius II died in 1145 and Hincmar was in time to assist at the election of his successor,

Eugenius III, the first Cistercian Pope, a disciple of the Abbot of Clairvaux, and a fellow religious of Henry Murdac.

Undoubtedly things were more hopeful for the Cistercian opponents of William Fitzherbert.

Eugenius III took resolute action.

He suspended William Fitzherbert until such a time as William of St. Barbe, now Bishop of Durham, should take the formal oath required by Innocent II. Once more he tried to evade the issue, but he had already expressed his misgivings about the case of Fitzherbert in a letter to Hincmar, the Legate.

At this moment Fountains was raided and damaged by the king's supporters, but they failed to lay hands on the abbot as they intended.

Finally on St. Barbe still refusing to take the oath the Pope deposed William Fitzherbert and ordered another election.

This election took place at Richmond on July 24th, 1147, and the Pope confirmed it on December 7th of the same year.

William sought refuge with the Bishop of Winchester, and the majority of the clergy, supported by the king, refused to receive the newly elected Murdac.

He was not fully recognized by his clergy and the king until January, 1151.

In fairness to William Fitzherbert it must be said that his cause did not lack the support of devout and serious men.

One has the impression that he was being used by the Bishop of Winchester for his own purposes.

After all he became Archbishop of York in succession to Murdac and, whatever his former life may have been, he left behind him the reputation of a saint.

The crude violence of his supporters and the tergiversations of St. Barbe undoubtedly served to prejudice his case.

EB ELIERGI37

TO POPE INNOCENT II

William Fitzherbert, the Archbishop-elect of York, has set out for Rome.

St. Bernard tries to forestall him with this letter.

To his dear lord and loving father, Innocent, by the grace of God Supreme Pontiff, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux, his humble duty.

INCE many are called and few are chosen, it is no great argument S in favour of something doubtful that many approve of it. The Archbishop of York is coming to see you, the same of whom I have repeatedly written to your Holiness.!_ He is a man who puts not his trust in God his helper, but hopes in the abundance of his riches.

His case is a weak and feeble one, and I have it on the authority of truthful men that he is rotten from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

What can this unrighteous man want with the arbiter of 1 Unhappily all these letters are lost.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

righteousness, the guardian of justice?

Does he think he can swallow up righteousness in the Curia, even as he has done in England?

* The flooded river he drinks unconcerned; Jordan itself would have no terrors for his gaping mouth.'

He comes to you with many whom he has won over by entreaties and treasure.

Only this one has escaped that he may bring you word, only this one has stood out at the risk of his life like a wall around the house of Israel, only this one has refused to bow down with the others and worship the idol at the command of the king. He is alone except that righteousness bears him company.

' She has welcomed him as a mother welcomes the son who cherishes her." What can Peter's successor do in this business but what Peter did with him who thought to purchase with money the gifts of God?

If the Church is founded on that rock the gates of hell will not prevail against her.

I do not speak on my own, but on the testimony of those who are guided by the spirit of God.

LETTER 188

TO THE SAME

By this time the deputation from the opponents of the York election, led by Ailred of Rievaulx and Walter of London, the Archdeacon of York, have arrived at Clairvaux, and the following are letters of introduction to friends in Rome which St. Bernard gave them.

To his most dear father and lord, Innocent, the Supreme Pontiff, all the little that he has to offer, from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux. ie men whom you see before you are true, honest, and Godfearing.

They have been led by the spirit of God into your august presence with the sole intention of seeing and obtaining justice.

Let your eyes rest upon these weary and poor men for not without reason have they come to you from afar, undismayed by the great distance, the dangers of the sea, the snows of the Alps and, being poor men, the great expense of such a journey.

They seek not their own interests but those of Jesus Christ and so let my lord take them under his protection lest, by the deceit or ambition of any person, all their labours should be brought to nought.

Their only motive is the love of God and I do not think that even their worst enemy could suspect them of being inspired in this business by either private interest or personal rancour.

If anyone is of God, let him stand by them.

Whose fault is it if the unfruitful tree cumbers the ground, but his who holds the axe?

TO GERARD, CARDINAL PRIEST

LETTER 1891

TO GERARD, CARDINAL PRIEST AND CHANCELLOR OF THE HOLY SEE

Gerard Caccianemici, Canon Regular, created Cardinal Priest 1124, was elected Pope in succession to Celestine II, March 12th, 1144, and took the name of Lucius II.

He died October 15th, 1145.

To his most reverend father and lord, Gerard, by the grace of God Cardinal Priest and Chancellor of the Apostolic See, from Brother

Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux, his humble devotion.

HE bearers of this letter, being true, honest, and God-fearing men, lice undertaken the fatigues of their long journey for God's cause and not their own.

It is all the more certain that they are inspired by love of justice and zeal for the house of God since it is so very evident that they stand to gain nothing for themselves and do not hope to.

This fact alone should powerfully recommend them to anyone who is a friend of religion and truly zealous for justice.

But I know that the recommendation from me, your friend, will not come amiss, and so I faithfully and cordially recommend them and their cause to your fatherly care that they may learn that they are as much your friends as they are mine.

Help, I pray you, as you conveniently can and with all your power, the cause of God which they serve.

2. A word for yourself.

If the gains of the chancellery are growing, let your mercy grow in proportion.

May your charity rather than the number of your chapels grow and a greater sum be set aside for the benefit of the poor.

It would be a shocking thing if a priest of the Lord lined his pockets with the proceeds of his office. I say this not because I suspect you of any such thing, but because, as your faithful friend, I am anxious for you.

I could wish that you were equally anxious for yourself.

LETTER 190

TO GUY OF CASTELLO

Guy Castello was created Cardinal in 1128; succeeded Innocent II September 25th, 1143, as Celestine II; died March 8th, 1144.

To his most reverend father, Guy, by the grace of God Cardinal Priest of the Apostolic See and a friend, greetings and prayers, from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

HE bearers of this letter, being true, honest, and God-fearing men, ff have undertaken the fatigues of their long journey for God's cause and not their own.

It is all the more certain that they are inspired 1 Letters 189-198 and 201 were discovered by Dr. C. H. Talbot.

See New Documents in the Case of Saint William of York by C. H. Talbot, the Cambridge Historical Journal, Vol. X, No. 1,

19$0.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

by love of justice and zeal for the house of God, since it is so very evident that they stand to gain nothing for themselves and do not hope to.

Trusting in your affection, I presume faithfully and cordially to commend them and their cause to your care.

Stand by them, I pray you, and help our cause for the sake of God and in the interests of the Church.

LETTER 191

TO CARDINAL ALBERIC

Alberic was Abbot of Vézelay, 1130; created Cardinal in 1136; and died in 1148.

To his most reverend father and friend, Alberic, by the grace of God Bishop of Ostia and Legate to the Apostolic See, greetings and such prayers as he is capable of in the Lord, from Brother Bernard, styled

Abbot of Clairvaux. po not believe that the bearers and their cause need much recomI mendation to one who is a friend of religion and truly zealous for justice.

Their piety, which is well known to you, as well as the obvious justice of their cause, should be a sufficient recommendation even 'if their testimonies are not become exceedingly credible'.

It is manifest that they are not seeking anything for themselves and put their trust, not in the foolish words of human wisdom, but in the truth alone, who solely for love of justice and zeal for the house of God have undertaken their long journey regardless of the expense and fatigue.

But I know that the commendation of your friend cannot come amiss, so, with all my heart, I commend them and their cause to your fatherly care.

May they discover that they are as much your friends as mine.

LETTER 192

TO CARDINAL STEPHEN

Stephen was a Cistercian, created Cardinal in 1140.

He died in 1144.

To Stephen, by the grace of God Bishop of Palestrina, greetings and such prayers as he is capable of in the Lord, from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

I bo not think that you who have on so many different occasions helped so many different people, can fail to help your own friends concerned in a cause which is entirely your own. I call it your own cause, because you always make the cause of God your own, and who does not know that all my friends are equally yours.

So I pray you to receive the bearers as truly your own friends and to take in hand the cause which they serveastruly the cause of God and therefore of yourself,

TO AN UNKNOWN PERSON

NOTE Pore Innocent II wrote on April 22nd, 1142, commanding the opponents of the election, Abbots William of Rievaulx, and Richard of Fountains, the Priors Cuthbert of Gisburn, and Waldef of Kirkham, and Robert, Master of St. Leonard's, York, to come to Rome in person on the third Sunday in Lent in the following year. He says that although William Fitzherbert may be guilty the canons of the Church forbid taking secondhand evidence as sufficient grounds for proceeding against anyone.

In another letter Cardinal Alberic, writing from the security of the Curia, appeals to the detachment and renunciation of the abbots and encourages them to accept the crown of martyrdom if necessary.

LETTER 193

TO AN UNKNOWN PERSON

The abbots have now arrived at Clairvaux on their way to Rome for the trial to take place on the third Sunday in Lent, 1143.

St. Bernard gives them the two following letters of introduction.

To L, greetings and prayers, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

HESE abbots have come from our house.

I commend them to ob your sympathy that they may learn how much you care for me.

What you do for them I shall regard as a personal favour to myself.

LETTER 194

TO A LADY OF RANK

Dr. Talbot tentatively suggests that this lady may be Sybil, daughter of Foulques of Anjou, second wife of Thierry of Alsace, Count of Flanders.

To the most noble and dear lady in Christ, S., greetings and prayers, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

HESE abbots are from our house.

They are devout and thoroughly f Pease aires men.

I am anxious to send you my greetings in the Lord by them lest you should think I have forgotten your kindness to me.

Very gladly do I secure you such friends as these and I faithfully commend them to you for I have no doubt that you will be pleased to welcome them.

You may afford them any help or services they need with complete confidence, as they have come a great distance.

Have no doubt that what you do for them, you do for the Lord.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 195

TO HENRY DE BLOIS, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER

Henry de Blois was Abbot of Glastonbury about 1126; consecrated bishop November 17th, 1129, and appointed Legate March 1st, 1139.

He died in 1171.

Clearly this letter was written by St. Bernard when the case had been referred back to England after the second hearing.

To his lord and truly reverend father, Henry, Bishop of Winchester and Legate of the Roman See, greetings and such prayers as he is capable of in the Lord, from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

BE are told of how Joab when he had almost taken a city reserved Wiihe credit of the final victory to David.

In just the same way I believe that now the final credit of finishing this dispute of the church of York, which has been discussed for so long and is now almost terminated, is reserved to you.

For this reason I advise you in all friendliness, exhort you reverently, implore you earnestly, to conclude the affair in such a way that there shall be no breath of unpleasant suspicion to tarnish the credit that will be due to you.

And, if that man should fall, act, I pray you, in a manner that becomes you and according to the powers you have received by arranging an election that shall be worthy of God and useful to the Church in which the canons are secured freedom to elect whom they will.

LETTER 196

TO ROBERT, BISHOP OF HEREFORD

Robert of Bethune, Prior of Llanthony, was consecrated bishop June 28th, 1131.

He died at Rheims on April 16th, 1148, during the council convened to judge Gilbert de la Porrée.

To his most reverend father and lord, Robert, by the grace of God Bishop of Hereford and his cordial friend, greetings and his prayers for what they are worth, from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

I AM glad and full of confidence now that your Lordship has been called upon to help in terminating the dispute of the church of York.

Would that all disputes could be thus terminated!

I have no doubt that the honour of God, the liberty of the Church, and the salvation of souls would then prosper.

I pray you that you may see to it and take every care that this iniquity should not be any further drawn out or the condition laid down by our lord the Pope be at all

TO STEPHEN, KING OF BNGLAND

changed by the guile of any person or the efforts of any deceiver.

I do not say this because I have any doubt at all of your honesty or of your zeal for justice, but so that I can be all the more grateful to you when this affair reaches the desired end and make it an occasion for offering you my due acknowledgement.

Begging you to remember me in your prayers, for I am gravely ill, I bid your Lordship farewell.

LETTER 197

TO KING STEPHEN

Another letter on the same subject.

To Stephen, by the grace of God King of the English, greetings and his prayers for what they are worth, from Brother Bernard, styled

Abbot of Clairvaux. pis King of kings has for long chastised your royal Majesty, for he is more powerful than you.

Yet I believe that he has done it more in mercy than in fury because we know that he never forgets to be merciful in his anger.

For this reason I humbly advise you and on bended knee implore you that on those matters for which above all

God is especially chastising you and your realm, to wit the affairs of Church and State, you give not the spouse of the Church further cause for chastising you yet more harshly and even completely destroying you.

Especially in the case of the church of York do I implore you with my whole heart to change your attitude and not attempt to hinder the termination of the affair according to the manner laid down by the Lord Pope.

And if that man should fall, permit, I beg you, the canons to be left free lawfully to elect another, as not only the church of York but all the churches should be left free; then, if you do this, the Lord will be with you, he will render you glorious and exalt your throne.

LETTER 198

TO MATILDA, QUEEN OF ENGLAND

To his dear daughter in Christ, Matilda, by the grace of God Queen of the English, that she may reign for ever with the angels, from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

GLADLy take this opportunity of affectionately grecting in the Lord I your Majesty and not only gladly but also faithfully suggesting certain things which I know to concern your own salvation and the glory of your kingdom.

If you fear God and if you wish at all to harken to my counsel, do everything you possibly can to prevent that man from occupying the see of York any longer.

I have heard all

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

about his life and the manner of his election from religious men who are utterly trustworthy.

This is the cause of God and I entrust it to you.

Itis for you to see that my trust is not betrayed.

I commend to you all who are labouring in the cause that you may see they do not suffer from the wrath of the king nor any hurt whatsoever, for they are doing a good work. Further, if you could arrange that the king should abjure before his bishops and princes the sacrilegious intrusion on the liberty of the chapter, so that it alone should have the decision to which it alone is entitled, know that it would be greatly to the honour of God, the well-being and security of the king and his friends, and to the profit of the whole realm.

LETTER 199

TO WILLIAM, ABBOT OF RIEVAULX

This letter was written after the consecration of William Fitzherbert by the Bishop of Winchester on September 26th, 1143.

Abbot William was evidently rather impetuous, and St. Bernard was afraid of what he might do.

To his dear brother and fellow-abbot, William, Abbot of Rievaulx, " a spirit wise and discerning, a spirit prudent and strong ', from Brother

Bernard of Clairvaux. y Have heard what has been done about that archbishop.

So I am I writing to console you, for your zeal is well known to me and it would ill become our Order and not help your house if it were to flare up beyond the bounds of prudence and discretion.

Since our own consciences are clear in the matter we should bear it calmly.

I say with complete confidence that what has happened is not your fault and you are in no way to blame for it. You have done all you could to resist the evil and now, according to St. Augustine, you have no responsibility in it. We clear ourselves of all responsibility for another's evil deeds, he tells us, by disowning them in our hearts and rebuking them with our lips. You have done both these things, so be of good cheer and do not worry.

As for ordination and the other sacraments, you must bear in mind that it is Christ the Lord and Pontiff of our souls who baptizes and consecrates.

If anyone is reluctant to receive ordination, no one obliges him to do so.

Yet I say with all confidence that if you receive it with the Church, there is no danger.

We should have to leave this world altogether if we would fly from all the bad men tolerated by the Church.

Finally, it will not be long now before the Pope hears of what has happened and whatever he orders and decrees do you hold to and follow with a good conscience.

In the meantime wait calmly the issue.

TO WILLIAM, ABBOT OF RIEVAULX

LETTER 200

TO THE SAME

This letter was written after Hincmar, the Cardinal Bishop of Frascati, had set out for England with the pallium.

W: have done all we can against our common bane and, if we have been less successful than we hoped, we can still look to him who allows no good to go unrewarded for the fruit of our labours.

'There is awaiting us the prize we have earned, and the Lord, the judge whose award never goes amiss, will grant it to us when the day comes': this should be the great consolation for us, and for all who have struggled with us in the cause of truth.

I would have you remember that if we suffer for the sake of justice we are blessed; and that we share no responsibility in the evil deeds of another, if we have refused to approve them and have even rebuked them.

And this too should console us and enable us to possess our souls in patience, and look for the help that men have denied us, to the Lord who never betrays those who put their trust in him.

I have every confidence in the mercy of our heavenly Father:

' He will root up every plant which he has not planted' and the sterile fig-tree will wither at his curse, to encumber the land no longer.

Therefore, my brother, I beg you to remain calm and not trouble the flock of God entrusted to your care.

On the contrary you should be consoled ' playing the man and keeping your courage high', so that ' we may live without fear in his service, delivered from the hand of our enemies'.

For my part, I have done what I can to advise His Lordship, the Bishop of Frascati,! who, as Legate for those parts, has been entrusted with this business.

He has faithfully promised me that, even if he can do nothing better, he will not bestow the pallium, but refer the matter back to the Pope, if the Bishop of Durham, the man who was formerly

Dean of York, does not take the oath on which the whole matter was made to hang.

LETTER 201

TO THE ABBOTS OF RIEVAULX AND FOUNTAINS

With the consecration of William Fitzherbert and the growing violence of his supporters the purpose of the Yorkshire abbots was beginning to weaken, so the Abbot of Clairvaux writes this letter and tells them that he has arranged to send them his disciple the Abbot of Vauclair, Henry Murdac, to make the visitations prescribed and encourage them in their trials.

As it happens, troubles of his own prevent Murdac from leaving that year.

1 Hincmar.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

To his very dear brothers in Christ and fellow-abbots, William of Rievaulx and Richard of Fountains, and all the others united with them in the same necessity, that they may preserve unity of spirit in the bonds of peace, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

HO will give me the wings of a dove, that I may go up to this W people of ours which is girded for battle', that I may behold the joy of your fraternal love, that I may take my share in the troubles that abound in your place of pilgrimage, that I may save those who 'perish from fears and the storms around them'.

I am obliged to go out of my house on visitations by the Rule of our Order, by the duty of our fraternity, but charity spurs me more and more to attempt something greater than this.

2. Willingly would I go and see how my brethren and their flocks are faring and bring back word to my father Jacob; willingly would I come over to see the Lord of battles in the camps of Israel ' who makes your hands strong for battle and your fingers skilled in fight'.

I am the least of my brethren, but I would not fear to smite the Philistine while he upbraids the hosts of Israel with a stone from my sling. Would that I might receive assurance from the Holy Spirit that I should not see death until I had eaten my fill with you and not of bread alone, but ' of every word that proceedeth from the mouth of God'.

With a great desire do I desire to eat this feast of the Passover with you before I die.

In this 'my heart would be filled as with some rich feast ' and ' in such things is the life of my spirit'.

For this I wait and wait hoping to be given the strength to follow my ready will, but up to now I have been prevented.

The way is hard and difficult, and my body is weak.

On the top of all this, apart from my own weakness, the journeyings I have to make on the business of my brethren and in the cause of the Church * tower high above me and hang on me like a heavy burden'.

Because of this, beloved, I am sending for your visitation my brother and dear friend, Henry, Abbot of Vauclair.

Hear him, I beg you, as if he were myself.

He is an upright and reasonable man who has taken on his shoulders some of my own cares and burdens and shares my powers for the correction of faults and the maintenance of the Order.

3. For the rest, as ' we all offend in many things' and being often among men pick up much dust from the world, I commend myself, dearest brothers, to your prayers and those of your friends.

You must throw me a rope of prayer, for I am labouring far out to sea while you are safe in port.

I believe that at the word of the Lord, the winds and the seas will be still.

But he sleeps and you must waken him with your prayers.

TO POPE CELESTINE II

LETTER 202

TO POPE CELESTINE II

Innocent II had died, to be succeeded by Celestine II, and William Fitzherbert had managed to get himself consecrated Archbishop of York in spite of St.

Barbe's evasion.

It is, perhaps, not easy to escape the impression that the Abbot of Clairvaux has rather overstated his case in this letter; certainly he has displayed a gift for vituperation.

Even some of the saint's most ardent admirers are inclined to admit that he relied too much on the reports of secondhand evidence.

The hot denunciations of this letter are in contrast with the cool impartiality displayed by the Holy See.

Yet it must be remembered that the Abbot of Clairvaux was in a better position to judge the facts than we are.

He was in close contact with those who were on the spot at the time and they were men of undoubted integrity.

It is not easy to see how he could have taken any other line or how he could have informed himself better of the facts apart from undertaking a personal investigation.

This we know he wished to do, but was prevented by his ill-health.

And certainly the evasions of St. Barbe set the case of Fitzherbert in a sinister light.

T behoves your Holiness to raise up seed to your dead brother I according to the righteousness of the law.

This you will best do by maintaining the decrees of your predecessor Pope Innocent and completing the work he had begun, but left unfinished.

You have a case on hand now in which you can do this.

Everyone knows that the dispute of the church of York has been decided by him.

I would that we did not all know how his decision has been implemented !

Who will grant that 'this secret will be kept in Gath and never a word of it uttered in the streets of Ascalon'?

To make a long story short so as not to burden one so preoccupied, I will tell my lord briefly what has been said and done in the matter.

After the man who had disgracefully tried to secure the see of York for himself had been charged with many things of which intrusion was one, the matter was made to rest on the word of William of St. Barbe, the dean, so that the man would be foiled of his ambition unless the dean should be ready to swear in person that there had been no untoward intrusion on the liberty of the chapter.

This was not a sentence so much as an act of mercy, for the man had undertaken that the dean would clear him.

It was a very lenient decision, since he had been confronted with many shocking charges of which he could not clear himself.

But would that it had all finished there!

I am not complaining of the laxity of the sentence, that hurt nobody.

If justice -had not been satisfied, at any rate the liberty of the Church had been vindicated.

But the indulgence he had received, although so great, did not benefit the adversary one bit, for he was not able to carry out what he had undertaken.

The dean, on whose support he had counted,

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

preferred to fail him than fail himself by perjury. How could a man sponsor one who stood condemned by his own deeds as well as by public opinion? The dean very properly refused to do so, yet that man became a bishop !

2. This is something that would be better kept quiet and, if possible, completely hushed up.

But too late!

This victory of the devil is known all over the world.

On all sides it is greeted by the derisions of the uncircumcised and the lamentations of the good. The shame of the Church is pointed out, Innocent has been stripped and left for dead by a wicked servant and his nakedness is mocked at! But Innocent is not dead, he lives on in you.

If the affair was to end like this, why was the unclean business ventilated in Rome?

It would have been better to have arranged it in some corner on the quiet.

Why should so many have been obliged to endure all the fatigues and dangers of a long journey by sea and land? Why should religious men have been brought from the ends of the earth to give their evidence in accusation and why should the pockets of the poor of Christ have been emptied on the expenses of such a long journey?

Could not this vile and infamous person have been made a bishop (I say it reluctantly) without all France loathing and all Rome learning what had already horrified England? How much better if it had not been dragged to Rome at all, if the stench of it had never invaded the sacred precincts!

How much better for the Holy See to have been ignorant of such an intolerable state of affairs than publicly to have tolerated it! What incredible rashness!

A man publicly infamous, accused before the Courts and not cleared, but rather condemned, has become a bishop!

Let him who laid hands on him consider whether I would not do better to say he had been ' execrated' rather than

'consecrated'.

He will not deny that all these things are true, nor will he deny that they were stated in letters to him from the Apostolic

See.

Perhaps someone will say that sentence was never pronounced against the man, that he was never proved guilty.

But I say that his action in trying to shelter behind William the dean so as to avoid judgement because he could not clear himself was tantamount to a confession of guilt and that he stands judged and convicted out of his own mouth by the refusal of the dean to sponsor him.

3. Things being in this state you must see to it, my lord and father, that your heart does not decline unto wickedness for, according to the Prophet, * feet that stray into the snare, the Lord will punish as he punishes wrong doers'.

What advice do you propose to give those wretched abbots who were dragged all the way to Rome as witnesses against the man and to all the other good men from the diocese?

Are they to obey and receive the sacraments from one who has been twice intruded on his Church, by the king and the legate?

It was the legate who, when he could not get him through the door, dug a way

TO THE ROMAN CURIA

for him into the sanctuary with a spade of silver, as the saying is, against all law and order, against the commands of the Supreme

Pontiff, and much to the injury of the Apostolic See and the whole Roman Curia.

Rather than bow down to this idol I fancy they would resign their positions unless forbidden by all your authority. How much more worthy of your apostolic zeal it would be to draw the sword of Phinees and shame those shameless fornicators than to allow such good and holy men to resign or to force them against their consciences to remain.

(I have written with such confidence because Iam fully aware of your love for righteousness.

I pray that this love may never grow cold but wax ever warmer, most holy and loving father.

Master Walter! was prepared to come to Rome even now, but having lost all the money he had set aside for the journey, he is forced to remain.

But he will come nevertheless as soon as he conveniently can.®)

LETTER 203

TO ALL THE ROMAN CURIA

To his reverend fathers and lords, the Bishops and Cardinals in Curia, greetings and such prayers as he can offer, from Brother Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

MUST write to all on a matter that concerns all.

I am not afraid of being thought presumptuous because, although the least of all,

I consider as my own any injury to the Roman Curia.

I am on fire!

I tell you that I am so consumed that Iam weary of life.

In the house of God I have seen a horrible thing.

Iam not able to correct it myself, all I can do is to appeal to those whose concern it is.

If they set it right, well and good; if not, then I am free from all responsibility.

But you will not have any excuse.

You will remember the sentence given by the lord Pope Innocent of happy memory with your consent and with the general consent of all the Roman Curia, that the election, or, I should say, the intrusion, of William of York would be null and void unless that other William, then the dean, were prepared to clear him by his own oath of the charge against him.

Nor will it have escaped your notice that this sentence was an act of mercy rather than of judgement, for it was what William, the archbishop-elect, had asked for.

I would that the matter had rested there, that what has since been done contrary to it should not be suffered to stand.

For what has happened but that the dean never took the oath, yet that man now sits 'in the chair of pestilence'.

Would that Phinees might -arm himself against this fornication, would that Peter still lived who 1 Walter of London, Archdeacon of York, who came with Ailred of Rievaulx on the first deputation to Rome.

He fell into the hands of the supporters of Fitzherbert, and was mutilated, 2The final passage in parenthesis was discovered by Dr. C. H. Talbot.

It is missing from the Benedictine text.

See C. H. Talbot, op. cit.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

slew the impious with the breath of his lips. Many are crying out in their hearts to you to take appropriate steps for the punishment of this sacrilege.

There will be a great scandal, I tell you, in the Church of God, and I very much fear that the authority of the Holy See will suffer great loss and injury unless steps are taken to punish this man who has subverted its general decree, in such a way that others may see and be afraid.

2. What can I say of that William's boast that he has received secret letters, verily letters of darkness ? I wish I could think that they were from the princes of darkness and not from the princes of the Church.

The Roman Curia has become a mockery to the sons of uncircumcision who are saying that it has sent secret letters in a contrary sense to its open and public decree.

What can I say to you?

If you are not on fire at this grave scandal, not merely a scandal to babes, but to great and holy men; if you have no compassion for those poor abbots whom the Apostolic summons dragged all the way to Rome from the ends of the earth; if you have no pity for those great and oodly monasteries which are threatened by imminent destruction at the hands of this intruder, if (what I ought to have said first) you are not devoured by zeal for God's house; has not the cunning of the evil one so far prevailed that the princes of the Church bear with equanimity the contempt in which they are held and the shame of the Church?

What even if that man has received a consecration that is sacrilegious?

Were it not a more glorious thing to cast Simon down from his throne than to prevent him ascending it? What do you propose to do for those religious men who cannot bring themselves to receive with a sound conscience even the ordinary sacraments from this man's leprous hands?

I fancy that they would rather flee their country than clasp hands with death, prefer exile to eating the meat of idols. And if the Roman Curia should oblige them to bend the knee to Baal against their consciences, then may God look to it and judge, then may that heavenly Curia whose judgements cannot be subverted by ambition see to it.

Finally your son implores you by the mercy of God, if there is any zeal for God's house in you, to have pity on the Church, at least you who are its friends, and refuse your consent to this vile deed.

LETTER 204

TO POPE LUCIUS II

Huffer is clearly quite mistaken in understanding this letter to refer to a dispute between Winchester and Chichester.

It is concerned with the behaviour of Henry de Blois, Bishop of Winchester, in the vexed and complicated affair of the election of the Archbishop of York.

There is an answer to this letter in Jaffre No. 8665.

TO POPE LUCIUS II

To his most beloved father and lord, Lucius, bythe graceofGod Supreme Pontiff, his humble duty, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

I RETURNED home to my own affairs from that excellent meeting of your Curia strengthened by the grace of God and delighting in your own most efficacious help as a rich man delights in his treasure.

Since then I have been awaiting the hoped-for issue of the affair we settled.

I have been waiting to see if the flower of the decision you made in Rome would bear the appropriate fruit in Winchester, so that the cup of my joy might be filled.

Gladness is mingled with anxiety when the vine is still in flower, only when the flowers have given birth to fruit is joy complete.

Hence we read in the Canticle: 'Let us sce if the flowers be ready to bring forth fruit'.

I have been watching the vine at Winchester, the second Rome as it is called in their song, to see if it brought forth grapes and lo ' it is turned into the bitterness of a strange vine and has brought forth wild grapes'.

O happy Winchester, O second Rome, happy in your choice of so great a name! O city so powerful that you can withstand the authority of your mighty fathers in Curia, change their decrees, pervert their judgements, defame truth, and with a great voice confirm what Rome has most rightly judged shall not be confirmed without the prescribed condition of an oath.!

For when the dean? was invited to take the prescribed oath, he not only refused in public to do so, but even declared himself willing to make an oath to the contrary.

Yet that Philistine? in a spirit of turbulence does not blush to set up that idol Dagon* next to the very ark of the Lord.

Surely he has the effrontery of the harlot spoken of by Jeremias the prophet. What will not the auri sacra fames® drive a man to do!

Winchester has arrogated to herself the venerable name of Rome, and not only the name but the prerogatives as well.

She suffers nothing to be done without her consent.

Absolution and the dignities of the Church she regards as her own to be disposed as she will.

Not happy but cursed is she, for she has cast precious pearls before swine and what is holy she has thrown to the dogs; she has not turned from the temple those who buy and sell doves, she has brought them in; and in a wonderful way is able to oppose the hitherto invincible Curia of the Roman Senate ..

. forshame! O father, O glory of Rome, O upholder of justice, who carries alone the burden of so many great affairs, who protects the republic of the Church with the arms of justice, and adorns her life with virtues, we in our weakness call upon 1 This refers to the oath that no undue influence had been exerted on the electors demanded by a Council in Rome during Lent, 1143, and presided over by Innocent II, from William of St. Barbe, Dean of York and Bishop-elect of Durham.

2 William of St. Barbe, Dean of York, and thus the chief witness of the election.

He was consecrated Bishop of Durham on July ist, 1143, and thereby avoided taking the oath.

8 Henry de Blois, Legate to the Holy See and Bishop of Winchester.

A colourful and strong character.

He had designs to make his diocese a Metropolitan see. é 4 William Fitzherbert, the Archbishop-elect.

After his death he was honoured as a saint.

5 Virgil, Aeneid, Ill, 57.

' The cursed lust for gold.'

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

you to avenge these outrages, to make for yourself a whip of cords and upset with the strong hand of Rome the tables of those who buy and sell and drive them forth from the temple. Were the primates of Rome to take lots their choice would rest on you for this ministry.

How happy are we in the just defender of our cause!

How happy in our avenger of such great insolence!

The sword is with you, ' draw it forth and close the way ' against them that resist the authority of Rome.

Behold here, here, I say, is the enemy, here is the man who walks before Satan, the son of perdition, the man who disrupts all rights and laws.

This is the man who has ' set his face against heaven ', who has repudiated, reprobated, rejected, and renounced, the just judgement of the apostle, confirmed, consolidated, promulgated, and clearly defined in solemn conclave.

This is the man that has set up that foolish figure-head, that idol, such a man as the sins of the people have deserved.

Let Rome arise and gird herself with the zeal of Phinees at the sight of one man who puts his trust in mammon pulling up and destroying what her mighty sons have planted and built up.

That unworthy man, they say, has set up that idol of resistance to the Roman tiara despite your judgement because he was jealous of your authority; he has set it up, they say, to break your authority.

I leave it to your judgement to decide how far the prestige of Rome has suffered in this matter.

Would that the song in which they sing that Winchester is greater than Rome could be silenced on their lips.

They say that they have no need to send to Rome now that they have a legate.

And what the Lord of Rome ordains and confirms, this steward, the legate, perverts and whittles down.

The man whom the wisdom of the Roman Curia does not accept without the sanction of Blessed Peter, that deceiver of Winchester, that prevaricator of the judgements of Rome, him he sets up on high and exalts.

Lest such contumacy should become a custom and an example, lest the dignity of Rome should be torn to shreds, lest the authority of Peter succumb to these new and great humiliations, lest religion should grow cold in the diocese of York, yea, lest it be wholly up-rooted and scattered to the winds, let Rome in the sole interests of justice, crush the contumacy of this stubborn man, and with the hammer of severity throw down that idol he has set up, and break his throne to pieces.

If any of them should come to Rome for the pallium, it behoves your Holiness manfully to resist them, despising Ananias and Sapphira with their money bags.

For we fear and dread lest that old whore of Winchester should be asked in some way by the new prophet! he has set up to share in the government, yea in the full power of the diocese.2

Therefore be prudent and crush the head of the serpent that lies in wait for your heel in that realm lest the Church there should succumb and be totally suppressed.

May your Holiness grow and flourish.

1 William Fitzherbert again.

* A reference to the Metropolitan ambitions of Henry de Blois.

TO POPE EUGENIUS III

LETTER 205

TO POPE BUGENIUS III

A letter to the first Cistercian Pope in which the Abbot of Clairvaux expresses his pride and also his anxiety in the elevation of one who had once been his son in religion.. He also touches on the troubles of the Church of York.

To his most loving father and lord, Eugenius, by the grace of God Supreme Pontiff, his entire devotion for what it is, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

T glad tidings of what the Lord has done for you has been heard in our land and is on everybody's lips. I have not written sooner because I have been thinking it over in silence.

I was waiting to hear from you, 'to be met on the way with abundant blessings'.

I was waiting for a trusty messenger from your person to tell me everything exactly as it all happened.

I was waiting to see if perhaps one of my sons would not come back to soothe the grief of his father and say:

"Thy son Jacob still lives, and it is he that rules the whole land of Egypt'.

So I am writing not of my own free will but of necessity, constrained thereto by friends to whom I cannot deny whatever little may remain to me of my life.

(Few are the days left to me, now there only remains the grave.t) Now that I have begun, I will not keep silence but I will speak to my lord.

I do not dare to call you a son any longer.

You were my son, but now you have become my father.

I was your father, but now I have become your son.

You who came after me have been preferred before me.

But I am not jealous, for I am sure that you who not only came after me but also, in a manner, through me, will make up in your person for what is lacking to me.

For, if you will pardon my saying so, it was I who, as it were, begot you in the Gospel. What is it that I hope will be my joy and a glorious crown for me?

It is you before God.

A wise son is the pride of his father.

From now on you will not be called son, but you will be called by a new name " given you by the Lord's own lips'.

This is surely a change of the right hand of the Most High.

Just as Abram became Abraham and Jacob became Israel or better still, to quote your predecessors, just as Simon became Cephas and Saul became Paul, so has my son Bernard been promoted to be my father Eugenius.

I hope it will bea joyful and beneficial change.

This is the finger of God ' raising up the poor man out of the dust, the beggar from his dung-hill to sit among princes and reach the honour of a throne'.

2. It only remains for the bride of the Lord who has been thus 1 This passage is lacking in all but 2 MSS.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

entrusted to you, to benefit by the change and be called no longer 'Sarai' but 'Sarah'.

Understand what I say, for the Lord has given you understanding.

If you are a friend of the Bridegroom you should say not 'his beloved is my princess' but 'his beloved is a princess', claiming for yourself nothing of what is hers, save only the privilege of dying for her if necessary.

If you are come from Christ, you are come, don't forget, not to be served, but to serve.

Let the successor of Paul be able to say with Paul: "We are come, not because we exercise dominion over your faith, but because we are helpers in your joy'. Let the heir of Peter be able to say with Peter:

" We are come, not to lord it over the household of God, but to be an example to the flock'.

So shall the bride, no longer a servant but beautiful and free, be delivered by you into the arms of her fair Bridegroom. From whom else can she expect the liberty to which she is entitled if you

(which God forbid) seek your own profit from the inheritance of Christ, you who long ago learned not to call anything your own, not even your own body.?

3. The whole Church rejoices and glorifies God, because she has a confidence in you such as she does not seem to have had for a long time in your predecessors.

But especially does she rejoice who bore you in her womb and who suckled you at her breasts.

And why should not I too rejoice? Why should not I be one of those who are glad?

Ido indeed rejoice but I confess that I do so not without trembling.

I rejoice indeed, but in the very act of rejoicing fear and trembling come upon me.

Although I have laid aside the name of father, neither the fears nor the anxieties of a father have left me, least of all the affection and heart of a father.

When I think of the heights to which you have been lifted up, I fear a fall. When I think of your great dignity,

I look down into the jaws of the gulf that yawns below you. When I ponder on the honour which is yours, I fear the danger which is at hand.

I do not think that the words 'Man when he is honoured does not remember what he is' refer so much to the time as to the cause and mean that honours blind the judgement of a man, so that he forgets that he is human.

4. You chose to be the last in the household of God, you took the bottom seat at his feast, but now your Host has said, 'Friend, go up higher'.

So you have gone up on high. But do not let that make you high-minded, lest when it is too late it should befall you to cry out, 'I shrink before thy vengeful anger, so low thou hast brought me, who didst once lift me up so high'. You have been called to hold a high position, but not a safe one; a sublime position, but not a secure one.

How terrible, how very terrible is the place you hold!

The place where you stand is holy ground.

It is the place of Peter, the place of the Prince of the Apostles, the very place where his feet have

1Cf. Rule of St. Benedict, Chap. 58.

TO POPE BUGENIUS III

stood.

It is the place of him whom the Lord made master of his household and chief over all his possessions.

He is buried there in that very place to watch over you and bear witness against you if your feet should ever stray from the path of righteousness.

Happy was the Church when still young, when still in her cradle, to be entrusted to the care of such a shepherd, of such a nurse, and to be taught to trample all earthly things under foot by the example of one who would sully his fingers with no gifts and who could say with a clear conscience and a pure heart:

' Silver and gold have I none'.

5. But my reason for writing to you before I meant to, is this.

The Bishop of Winchester and the Archbishop of York are not of one mind with the Archbishop of Canterbury.

It is the old quarrel about the office of legate.

But who are they and who is he?

Is not the Archbishop of York that very person whom, in your presence when you were still in a manner one of us, your brethren resisted to the face because he was to blame?

But he put his trust in the abundance of his riches and, in the vanity of his heart, he has prevailed.

Yet he is a man who did not enter the fold by the door but climbed up another way.

If he had been a shepherd of souls, he would have been lovable; if he had been a mere hireling, he would have been tolerable; but as it is he is a man to be shunned and repelled for he is a thief and a robber.

What can I say of his Lordship of Winchester?

His deeds speak of themselves.

But the Archbishop of Canterbury to whom these two are opposed is a devout man with a fair reputation.

On his behalf I beg that his goodness may answer for him, and that their evil may be upon the others, as it is written: "Good will befall the good, evil the evil'.

When you have time, deal with them according to their works, so that they may know a prophet has arisen in Israel.

6. Who will grant me before I die to see the Church as she was in the days of old when the Apostles let down their nets to catch not gold and silver but the souls of men? How I hope that you will inherit the words as well as the office of him who said:

' Silver and gold have I none'.

What words of thunder!

What magnificent and virtuous words!

At the very sound of them all those who hate Sion are shamed and turned back in confusion.

This is what your mother looks for from you and longs for with all her heart.

This is what the sons of your mother, both young and old, hope and sigh for, so that every tree your father has not planted may be torn down with your own hands.

You have been set up over peoples and kingdoms for this purpose, to pull up and to destroy.

Many said when they heard of your election:

' Now the axe is laid to the tree'. Many said in their hearts: 'At home the flowers have begun to blossom, the pruning time has come'; the dead branches will be cut away so that those which are left may bear more abundant fruit.

7. Have courage and be of good heart.

You hold your enemies

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

by the neck; claim for yourself with a strong hand and a firm purpose the land which your omnipotent father has allotted to you above that of your brothers, the land he took from the Amorite with his sword and bow. But in all your actions remember that you are human, and have the fear of him who 'strikes awe into the hearts of princes' ever before your eyes. How many are the deaths of Roman Pontiffs which your own eyes have seen in a short time!

Let the sudden and sure deaths of your predecessors be a warning to you.

Let the short span of their power remind you of how short is the time allotted to you.

Remember, by constant meditations amidst the blandishments of your fleeting glory, that your last end will come.

Without any doubt you too will follow to the grave those men you have followed to the throne.

LETTER 206

TO THE SAME

This letter urges the deposition of the Archbishop of York.

The second half of it was discovered and published by Huffer.

I AM importunate, but I have reason to be and my reason is the apostolate of Eugenius!

For they are saying that it is not you but I who am the Pope and from all sides they flock to me with their suits.

In such a crowd of suppliants there are some whom I cannot refuse to help without scandal, even without sin.

And now I have another reason for importunity and one no less compelling for it is in a very good cause.

My pen is again directed against that idol of York,! with all the more reason because my other attacks with this weapon have not gone home.

They have not gone home for the reason that my weapon has not been wielded with the strength of Jonathan's sword seh was never ineffective.

The fault lies not with the weapon but with him who wields it. Clearly it has not been directed with the necessary strength.

And what wonder, for who is able to shoot arrows with a powerful hand 'save the son of them who have been shaken'? He holds the place of Peter and can strike down with one blow Ananias and Simon Magus.

Let me speak more clearly: it belongs to the Roman Pontiff to command the deposition of bishops for, although others may be called to share his cares, the fulness of power rests with him alone.

If I may dare say it, he alone is at fault if he does not strike down a fault which needs to be struck down, and with the necessary strength.

But I leave to your conscience to decide with what strength you should, I do not say strike down, but blast to pieces the fault of the aforesaid Archbishop of York.

What remains to be done is reserved for you to do, so that the Church of God, over which you have been placed by the Founder, may see

1 William Fitzherbert, Archbishop of York.

TO POPE EUGENIUS III

the fervour of your zeal, the might of your right arm, and the wisdom of your soul, and all the people may fear the priest of the Lord and harken to the wisdom of God commanding righteousness through his mouth.

I speak with confidence to 'the heart of Jerusalem' or rather to the heart of him whom 'the Lord has appointed watchman on the walls of Jerusalem ', for you know the sins which ' go before to judgement' of thatman, and you are quite aware of what such a man deserves by behaviour such as his.

If anyone should suggest anything else to you, even should it be myself or an angel from heaven, ' let him be anathema' by him whom he does not fear to contradict, even the Lord of lords who speaks in your heart.

For ' He speaks peace unto his people and unto his saints' whom I call your brothers, even brothers of the womb, who, as you know full well, have withered away at the zeal of this. man, at what they regard with horror in the house of God and hear with dismay in his holy place.

For how long a time have they 'laboured in their groanings', ' withering away for expectation of what might come'.

'We have looked about and there was none to help; we have sought and there was none to give us aid.'

Blessed be the Lord who has given us a Pontiff who has compassion on our sorrows, who cannot but grieve for the ' afflictions of Joseph'.

To him the poor lift up their voices from the ends of the earth that he may deliver their brothers from the hands of them that seek their souls and not suffer them to be sold unto the merchants of Ishmael.

May the Lord be in your heart that you may not turn a deaf ear to our sobs and cries; that the sighs of your brothers may pierce your heart, so that you will deliver their souls from such dangers and such sadness.

It is not worldly harm or temporal hurt of which we complain, but our souls once bought for a great price, 'not with corruptible gold or silver, but with the precious blood of Christ, the unspotted lamb', are "ever in our hands' and cannot with safety be entrusted to this new and insolent buyer. By him who redeemed our souls, we beseech you; yea, his very blood cries out to you:

'Do not leave the rod of sinners upon the lot of the just, that the just may not stretch forth their hands to iniquity'.

And he who cries through us has given you the power, if only you have the will.

For his Eminence of Frascati,2 who, by the order of your predecessor, the Lord Lucius, is papal legate in that region, has (so we are told) heard such things of this man that his nostrils would not be able to endure the stench of them were the power not given him from on high.

This then is my petition, this my plea, this the desire of my heart, that you give the legate full power to throw down that image* without listening to any subterfuge of appeals, should he find a just and 1 Here begins the fragment discovered by H_ffer.

, Cardinal Hincmar, Bishop of Frascati.

He went to York with the pallium but returned to Rome without having given it.

3 Again the Archbishop of York.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

reasonable cause. And now I appeal on behalf of his Lordship of Canterbury as I have done before, and truly he deserves your consideration both on account of his religious life and on account of my love for him, in which he places such confidence.

He is a friend of our brethren on whose behalf I also plead before you, and by his love for them he has deserved your compliance.

For the rest I have only to ask how much longer you will keep me in suspense; I listen for your messenger with anxious ears, but he does not come.

I beg you not to put the matter off from one day to another.

Tell me what you are doing about it and what you want me to do. May God preserve you and multiply for you his graces!

LETTER 207

TO THE SAME

HOPE I shall always hear of you what is to the glory of God, the I credit of your office, and the joy of my heart!

That is why Iam delighted beyond the power of words to describe to hear of the answer you gave to certain persons who were being too ambitious and anxious for the office of legate.

Not only myself, but all those who have your good name at heart are exceedingly gratified.

Moreover, when I read your letter written in the cause of the Church of Rodez, 'then was my mouth filled with laughter, and joy upon my tongue '.

These and the like actions of yours are a credit to your office, they add lustre to your supreme position, and they become very well the Bishop of the world.

I kneel before the Author of your unique primacy and pray that he may give you the wisdom always to act like this in pulling up and planting, in destroying and in building.

You have ascended your throne for the downfall and resurrection of many.

Let them fall, let them fall who have no right to be standing, and let them stand who are worthy to doso. Lay the axe to the root of the unfruitful tree and prune the fruitful tree that it may bring forth fruit yet more abundantly.

Under the humble Eugenius let the mighty be put down from their seats, and the humble exalted; let the hungry be fed with good things and the rich sent empty away, as has happened recently, to the delight of everyone, in the case of a certain poor bishop.

2. Come now apply your zeal for piety to that unhappy Church across the sea.

It is time to have pity on it.

It is a vineyard of the Lord, a choice vineyard and a beautiful one.

But now alas! it is little better than a wilderness, because ' the wild beast ravishes it'. Why are the people saying:

' Where is its God?

Where is he whom they put to watch over it? Where is the hand of the pruner, the fork of the gardener?

For how much longer will useless growths be allowed to cumber the soil and suffocate the fruit?'

Surely the time has come for pruning.

The man of peace! whom he hoped would + William of St. Barbe, Dean of York, and afterwards Bishop of Durham.

TO POPE BUGENIUS Ill

sponsor him and clear him of his guilt has said that the need is rather for cutting down than sponsoring.

There is in existence a letter from him to the Apostolic legate! in which he frankly denies that there was any election at all and asserts that it was a clear case of intrusion.

So he now finds that the very man he was counting on to sponsor him has become his accuser.

The things that are said of him on all sides would be, quite rightly, enough to lose a knight his belt.

3. How can you allow this man to stand when you have so many good reasons for throwing him down?

And I know you do not lack the will to do so.

I have read in your letters of your zeal for that Church and I now ask you to show it.

It is not for me to tell you, a wise man, how you should go about it, but it does seem to me there is more than one way in which you could do it. I am not much concerned where the unfruitful tree falls, so long as it does fall.

A man who stakes his title to possession of a see on a clandestine traffic in letters is a knave and a robber.

It is either true that he has these secret letters authorizing his ' execration' or it is false.

If it is true, then he is guilty of knavery and is a calumniator of the Supreme Pontiff.

If it is false, then he ought to hear the words: 'Thou hast killed and taken possession'.

Lying lips were ever soul destroying.

But God forbid that we should believe such duplicity, as this man would want us to, of a man like Pope Innocent.

If he were here to answer for himself, I have no doubt that he would say: 'I gave sentence against you openly and in secret I said nothing '.

LETTER 208

TO THE SAME

This letter was evidently written after the suspension of William Fitzherbert, but before his deposition.

Word had reached the Abbot of Clairvaux of the raid on Fountains, and like most news of this sort it was probably exaggerated.

It does not seem certain that any blood was shed in the raid, but great damage was done and probably the abbot would have suffered if the raiders had been able to lay hands on him.

It is difficult to say how far William was behind this outrage, but the impression is that it was carried out by his violent supporters, the king's men, and that he knew nothing about it or was powerless to stop it.

HWARTED ambition is raging, it is indeed mad with despair.

That The of perdition is careering towards his fall and has been hastening for some time the final sentence of condemnation.

Even now his sins have become evident and are leading him off to judgement.

That tree accursed and full not of fruit but of thorns is anticipating the hand of the feller and provoking him to execution.

How much better 1 Hincmar, not Henry de Blois.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

if he had fallen long ago rather than those good men whom by standing he has overthrown, against all law and justice.

If he had never stood he would have been powerless against them.

Now they who were standing to such better purpose than he, have fallen in their innocence and for their innocence.

But their harmless blood shall be required of those who by their secret support lent that poisonous tree strength to stand lest it should fall immediately.

The blood of the saints calls out against them from the earth, the blood of those who are in the hand of God and beyond the reach of torment.

Yet they were my children and they have been scattered.

Words are no consolation, and if they were some comfort and remedy, they fail me for grief, sorrow shuts them off, my sighs interrupt them.

But I have one thing to say and it is my last, something that it is easier to write than to speak.

Listen, or rather read!

If this man should still survive, I very much fear that his survival will be your fall, and whatever more he should do, like an evil tree that cannot give good fruit, will be held to your account and not any longer to his.

LETTER 209

TO POPE INNOCENT

Raynald, the Archbishop of Rheims, died on January 13th, 1138, and the people of Rheims seized the opportunity of the interregnum to obtain from Louis le Jeune, in return for a substantial payment, the authority to establish in the city a commune with a mayor at its head.

Probably the king regarded this arrangement as a means of curbing the power of Theobald of Champagne, and there was a precedent for it at Laon, a city not far distant from Rheims.

But there was this difference between the arrangement at Laon and Rheims.

At Laon, the commune was established in agreement with the bishop, at Rheims it was set up sede vacante so that the new archbishop would have to take office on terms unknown to his predecessors and in the framing of which he had had no voice. This led to endless trouble and the chapter appealed to the king who wrote to the mayor and commune commanding them to respect the ancient rights of the cathedral and churches of the city.

This order was ignored and communal rule replaced the ecclesiastical.

After an outburst of anger the king accepted the fait accompli, the more readily, perhaps, for the advantages that he hoped would accrue to him from it. A state of open feud ensued between the chapter and the city.

There is no doubt that the populace had been guilty of the gravest excesses and violence.

St. Bernard intervened with the following letter and then visited Rheims and harangued the mob in the market place. As a result of this, peace was patched up and St. Bernard was elected archbishop.

But in spite of a cordial letter from the king urging him to accept the office, he refused, and Samson de Mauvoisin was elected, a man of whom the saint was to speak in terms of the highest praise.

1 See St. Bernard of Clairvaux, by Watkin Williams, Pp. 165-167.

TO THE KING OF FRANCE

To his most loving father and lord, Innocent, Supreme Pontiff, the humble devotion of Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

Bes church of Rheims has fallen into ruin, the glorious city has been _ brought into contempt.

She cries out to those who pass by that there is no sorrow like unto her sorrow.

Without there is fighting, and within there is fear.

But there is also fighting within, for her own sons are fighting against her and she has no father! to set her free. You are her only hope, only Innocent can dry her eyes.

But how long must she wait to be protected by your shield? How long will she be trodden ynder foot before anyone raises her up? The king has humbled himself, and his anger has subsided.

What remains but for the apostolic hand to be held out to that afflicted church and to apply to her wounds remedies and fomentations?

In my opinion the first thing to be done is to hasten on with an election of an archbishop, for the insolence of the people of Rheims will scatter what little remains if their madness is not checked by a strong hand.

If this election should be rightly held, I am sure that the grace of God will give a happy issue to the other matters.

LETTER 210

TO THE KING OF FRANCE

It is very probable that the following letter was written by the saint on his election to the see of Rheims.

AM very glad you are so sincere in all that appertains to the glory I of God.

For, not to mention other things, you would surely not be so very anxious to promote such a wretched person as myself except for the glory of God; what other reason could you have since

I am poor and destitute?

You were not satisfied with simply consenting to my election, you also added your request that I should accept it. You show me favour, you open wide to me your kind heart and, so that I should not be scared of the burden, you promise to help me with your royal protection.

Whence such condescension in a king, such maturity in one so young?

But, O king, I am a timorous character, broken in body, and there only remains for me the grave, I cannot on any account "stretch forth my hands to great works'; unfitted and unequal to such a holy office, I cannot possibly venture to accept it. Those responsible for my election should have considered this.

If they are able to overlook my insufficiency, I cannot because I have read 'thy own self befriend, doing God's will'.

Or if they believe me suitable because of the religious habit I wear, they must understand that in the habit there is the appearance of 1 non habet generatorem qui liberet eam.

'.. . nor has she a spouse to set her free' (Eales).

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

holiness, but not the virtue.

No one is better known to me than myself, no one knows me so well as I know myself.

I cannot believe against my conscience those who only see me from without and judge me only by appearances.

I and the sons God has given me are here and, although sinners, we pray for your kingdom and your person.

To part us would be difficult and cruel, and would induce sorrow rather than prayers.

So much for myself. Now, I beg you, deign to listen to what is in my mind about the church.1

The queen amongst the churches sits in sorrow, ' her cheeks are wet with tears', all dim now and discoloured the beauty that once shone so fair, faded her ancient glory, her splendid apparel is trodden under foot, her nobility has been brought into contempt, her liberty turned to servitude.

Iam tortured in this flame, and can find no thought to comfort me, until he shall come who will console her. May reverence for her spouse touch your heart, the spouse by whose blood she was redeemed, in the likeness of whom she was adorned, and with whose heritage she was endowed.

And may you remain firm in your purpose lest this well loved bride of our Lord be overwhelmed even now with such a mass of evil, that she is no longer pleasing to his eyes. I tell you, I tell you as your true friend, that such a thing would certainly not advantage you.

So may you administer your kingdom of France, great and mighty king, as to obtain the Kingdom of heaven.

LETTER 211

TO POPE INNOCENT, ON BEHALF OF FALK, ARCHBISHOP-ELECT OF LYONS

Concerning this Falk, see Letter 180.

He had been Dean of Lyons in the recent trouble.

I HAVE been heard so often in the affairs of other people that I do not think I shall be rebuffed in something that concerns myself. My dear lord, I consider the cause of the Archbishop of Lyons as my own, for a member cannot but be concerned in what touches the head.

I would not be saying this had the man taken the honour on himself without being called thereto by God, even as Aaron was.

And I cannot but think it was the work of God, the way that all the votes of so many men were so easily united in him without any delay, much less any disputes.

And rightly so too, for he is a man distinguished not less for the breadth of his mind than for the nobility of his birth, for his knowledge, and for his praiseworthy life.

His blameless reputation has nothing to fear even from the snarls of an enemy.

It is surely fitting that the favour of the Apostolic See should follow such an election of so good a man, and that it should fulfil the joy of the people by according to him with its accustomed benevolence, or rather

1 The church of Rheims?

TO FALK, ARCHBISHOP-ELECT OF LYONS

with its well deserved liberality, the fulness of honour which is all that is lacking.'

This is what the whole Church with urgent supplication begs of you, and it is what I, your child, implore of you with my usual boldness.

NOTE In the Benedictine Edition (No. 172) there follows after the above letter a very short note from Godfrey de la Roche, now Bishop of Langres, but said to have been written in his person by St. Bernard, begging Pope Innocent to confirm the election of Falk as Archbishop of Lyons.

LETTER 212

TO THE SAME FALK

Mec lord Bishop of Langres and myself have both written on your

behalf, as we thought we ought to do, to the lord Pope, and you have a copy of both the letters. We are resolved always to stand by you so far as we can, because we hope for much good from you.

It is in your interest to see that our hopes are not disappointed.

If I have found any favour in your sight, I beg you to bear in mind those poor and needy monks at Bénissons-Dieu.2

What you do for one of these you do for me, or rather for Christ.

They are poor and they are living amongst poor people.

I especially beg you to prevent the monks of Savigny from molesting them; for they are calumniating them unjustly, as I believe.

If they think they have reason for what they say, then do you judge between them.

I beg that our son, Abbot Alberic, although his own virtues are commendation enough, may be in even greater esteem by reason of my recommendation.

I love him tenderly, even as a mother her only son.

He who loves me will love him too.

Let me experience your affection for myself in his person.

He has all the more need of your paternal consolation for being so far away from me.

LETTER 213

TO POPE INNOCENT

This letter concerns Falk who was elected Archbishop of Lyons in 1139.

He was a great friend of the Carthusians, and he was archbishop at the time that St. Bernard wrote his famous letter to the canons of Lyons on the Immaculate Conception.

To his most beloved father and lord, Innocent, by the grace of God Supreme Pontiff, his humble duty, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

1 The pallium.

; ; 2 Bénissons-Dieu was founded from Clairvaux in 1138.

Alberic was its first abbot.

In the neighbourhood was a daughter house, Savigny, a congregation of Black Monks who became affiliated with the Cistercians on Sept. 17th, 1147.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

FI have lied to my lord in the testimony I gave of the Archbishop of I Lyons, may it be far from me to have done so knowingly.

If I have been deceived in my judgement, how many are they who have been deceived with me, or who have deceived me!

And what should render my mistake, if I have made one, the more excusable is that neighbouring religious, to whom the man is so much better known, have also either deceived me or been deceived with me.

And this is proved by the unanimity of his election by the clergy and people, and by the solemn consecration he received at the hands of the local bishops, without there being the slightest breath of suspicion, without even an enemy opening his mouth to protest.

Where have these tardy opponents to the archbishop come from?

If they have come from far off, can they know the man better than his neighbours?

If they are neighbours, why did they not object at the time?

For, as I have said, everything was done openly, and nothing behind closed doors.

Is it more credible that all those who elected the man, yea, and the very Holy Spirit himself who made them of one mind on the matter, were deceived, than that there are a few men who are lying about him because they hate him?

Let the man who would persuade you of the contrary prove his words.

As for me, as I can think of no reason for believing otherwise, there only remains for me to consider it a case of a bad man bringing forth from a bad treasure, bad things.

Let him see to it that those words, ' He who does not gather with me scatters ', do not apply to him.

And Iam quite sure that the successor of the first shepherd reverences and loves the man who gathers with Christ, and will no longer countenance the man who scatters the flock.

2. I remember that I wrote to your Holiness in commendation of the archbishop, and I do not regret having done so, for almost as many as know the man approve of my testimony in his favour.

And if I have also commended his election, I have only commended what the unanimity of all the electors confirms.

But if popular judgement seems open to suspicion, then let the opinion of the religious be sought, and if these too do not dissent, there are two courses of action open to your Holiness: you can either abide by the general verdict of all those concerned, or you can deliver up the man into the hands of his enemies.

For my part, I have no doubt which of these two courses would most become your judgement.

LETTER 214

TO LUKE, CARDINAL

This letter concerns the same subject.

To Master! Luke, by the grace of God and favour of the Apostolic See, Cardinal, from a man who loves him much, that he may ever abide in the love of God.

} The MS. is worn and illegible just here.

TO THE CANONS OF THE CHURCH OF LYONS

hese who persecute the Archbishop of Lyons wound themselves, not justice.

But it behoves us to fight for the man vigorously and not half-heartedly, because his enemies attack him in force.

Let my love, which you understand is offended by the injury done to my archbishop, spur on your zeal.

LETTER 215

TO THE CANONS OF THE CHURCH OF LYONS

The Canons of Lyons had instituted a feast of the Conception of the Blessed Virgin and by doing so called forth the following well-known remonstrance from the Abbot of Clairvaux.

St. Bernard maintains that it is impossible on purely rational grounds for her conception to have been holy; that there is no evidence at all for it in Scripture, the Fathers, or the tradition of the Church, and that if her conception were not holy there could be no justification for a feast in its honour.

It remains to say that he uses the term ' conception' in a different sense to the Church in her dogma of the Immaculate Conception.

In this doctrine the Church teaches that the Blessed Virgin was, by a unique privilege and solely by virtue and in anticipation of the redeeming death of our Blessed Lord, preserved from all taint of original sin from the first moment of her existence, that is to say from the moment she was quickened in her mother's womb.

There is no real evidence that the use of the term ' conception' in this sense ever occurred to St. Bernard.

He believes that the Blessed Virgin was cleansed from original sin, or sanctified in the womb, after her conception but before her birth, in the same way as St. John the Baptist, but more abundantly, so as to preserve her from all actual sin throughout her life.

The authenticity of this letter has occasionally been questioned in the past, ostensibly on the grounds that in it St. Bernard speaks of himself as ' the especial son of the church of Lyons'.

But he was born and lived his whole life in the province of the metropolitan church of Lyons, and was therefore perfectly justified in regarding himself as a son of that church.

Furthermore, the style of the letter is unmistakably the saint's:.

. clamat dominum.

MONG all the churches of France the church of Lyons is well known to be pre-eminent for its dignity, sound learning, and praiseworthy customs.

Where was there ever so flourishing strict discipline, grave conduct, ripe counsels, and such an imposing weight of authority and tradition?

Especially in the offices of the Church, has this church, so full of judgement, appeared cautious in adopting novelties, and careful never to permit its reputation to be sullied by any childish levity.

Because of this I marvel exceedingly that some of you should wish to tarnish the lustre of your good name by introducing at this time a new festival, a rite of which the Church knows nothing, of which reason cannot approve, and for which there is no authority in

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tradition.

Are we more learned or more devout than the Fathers?

To introduce something which they, with all their prudence in such matters, passed over in silence, is a most dangerous presumption.

It is not as if they would have passed it over without good reasons, for it is a thing that could not have escaped their attention.

2. You say that the Mother of the Lord should be highly honoured.

You are right, but 'the honour of the queen loves justice'.

The Virgin has many true titles to honour, many real marks of dignity, and does not need any that are false.

Let us honour her for the purity of her body, the holiness of her life.

Let us marvel at her fruitful virginity, and venerate her divine Son.

Let us extol her freedom from concupiscence in conceiving, and from all pain in bearing.

Let us proclaim her to be reverenced by the angels, desired by the nations, foretold by the patriarchs and prophets, chosen out of all and preferred before all.

Let us magnify her as the channel of grace, the mediatrix of salvation, the restorer of the ages, and as exalted above the choirs of angels to the very heights of heaven.

All this the Church sings in her praise and teaches me too to sing. | What I have received from the Church I firmly cling to and confidently pass on to others; but, I confess, I am chary of admitting anything that I have not received from her.

3. Certainly the Church has taught me to keep that day with the greatest veneration on which, when she was taken up from this evil world, she brought a festival of great joy to heaven.! But I have also learned in the Church to celebrate the birth of the Virgin, and from the Church to hold it as a festival and holy, believing most firmly with the Church that she entered the world already holy because she had been sanctified in the womb.?

And I read of Jeremias that he too was sanctified before he left the womb, and I believe the same of John the Baptist who from the womb felt the presence of the Lord in the womb.

It is a matter for consideration by you whether it would be permitted to think the same of David, in that he said to God, 'By thee I have been confirmed from the womb, from my mother's womb thou art my protector'; and likewise, ' From my mother's womb thou art my guardian, depart not from me'.?

And to Jeremias it was said: 'I claimed thee for my own before ever I fashioned thee in thy mother's womb; before ever thou camest to birth, I set thee apart for myself'. How beautifully the divine Word distinguishes between formation in the womb and birth from the womb.

It shows that the former was only foreknown, but that the latter was blessed * Accepi sane ab Ecclesia illum diem cum summa veneratione recolendum, quo assumpta de saeculo nequam, celis quoque intulit celeberrimorum festa gaudiorum.

Eales translates this sentence:

*. .

. when I have received from the Church that day to be reverenced with the highest veneration, when being taken up from this sinful earth, she made entry into heaven; a festival of most honoured joy.' j >... firmissime cum Ecclesia sentiens, in utero eam accepisse ut sancta prodiret.

3 See par. 8 ad fin.

TO THE CANONS OF THE CHURCH OF LYONS

beforehand with the gift of sanctity, so that no one should consider the privilege of the prophet to have been only a matter of foreknowledge or predestination.

4. Let us grant this in the case of Jeremias.

What shall we say of John the Baptist whom the angel pronounced would be filled with the Holy Spirit while yet in his mother's womb?!

Certainly I do not think that this can refer only to predestination or foreknowledge.

Without any doubt the words of the angel were fulfilled in their own. time, as he said they would be; and it is not permissible to doubt that he was filled with the Holy Spirit as the angel had foretold, and in the time and place that he had foretold.

And certainly the Holy Spirit sanctified him when he filled him.

But I would not venture to say how far this sanctification availed over original sin either for John the Baptist, or for the prophet, or for anyone else who was thus prevented by grace.

Yet I have no hesitation in saying that they were sanctified whom God sanctified, and that they came forth from the womb with the sanctity they received in the womb, and that the original sin they contracted in conception had no power at all to hinder or rob them in their birth of the blessing they had already received before their birth.

And who would venture to say that a child filled with the Holy Spirit still remained a child of wrath, and that he would suffer the penalty of damnation if he should happen to die in the womb, having received the fulness of the Spirit?

This is very severe.

But I would not at all venture to define anything about it on the strength of my own opinion.

However this may be, the Church, which judges and declares the death but not the birth of the saints precious, makes a unique exception in favour of him concerning whom the angel said, ' Many shall rejoice in his birth ', and honours his nativity with festal joy. And why should not the birth of him be holy and so a festival and joyous, who was able to rejoice even whilst in the womb?

5. We cannot for a moment suppose that a privilege which has been accorded to some, though very few, mortals, was denied to that Virgin through whom all mortals have entered life. Beyond all doubt the Mother of the Lord was holy before she was born.

Holy Church is certainly not mistaken in keeping the day of her birth holy and celebrating it every year throughout the world with a glad and joyous festival.

I, for my part, believe that she received a more ample blessing which not only sanctified her in the womb, but also preserved her thereafter free from sin throughout her life. This is something which we do not believe to have been accorded to any other born of woman.

This unique privilege of sanctity whereby she was enabled to live her whole life without sin surely well becomes the Queen of 1 The Vulgate: Adhuc ex utero matris sue.

St. Bernard quotes adhuc in utero matris sue.

Eales translates according to the Vulgate.

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Virgins who, in giving birth to him who destroyed sin and death, obtained for all of us the reward of life and righteousness.

Therefore her birth was holy because great sanctity from the womb made it so.

6. Is it possible to think of any other honours that we can add to these?

That her conception which preceded her honoured birth should also be honoured because there would have been no birth to honour if there had been no conception? What if another should maintain for the same reason that festal honours should be accorded to both her parents? And the same thing could also be claimed with the same reason for her grandparents and her great-grandparents, and so on without end, so that there would be festivals beyond count.

Such a repetition of joys would be more fitting for heaven than for here below, for citizens than for exiles.1_

But they show records of, so they say, heavenly revelations; as if anyone could not equally well show records of how the Virgin had been seen commanding the same honours for her parents, according to the commandment,

'Honour thy father and mother'.

I find it hard to be moved by records of visions which are unsupported by sound reason or good authority. How does it follow that her conception would be holy because her birth was holy? Was it because it preceded a holy birth?

It preceded so that there should be a birth, but not so that the birth should be holy. Whence that holiness which could be passed on to what was to follow?

Would it not be more true to say that, because her conception was not holy, she was sanctified after she had been conceived so that her birth was holy? Or shall we say that perhaps the conception shared in the holiness of the birth which followed it?

It would certainly be true to say that the sanctification of what had already been conceived could be transmitted to the birth that followed, but it is quite impossible that the holiness of the birth could be retrospective and sanctify the conception which preceded it.

7. Whence therefore the sanctity of the conception?

Can it be said that she was conceived holy because she was already holy before her conception, so that, on account of this, her conception would be rendered holy, just as her birth was rendered holy because of the sanctification she received while in the womb before her birth?

But she could not have been holy before she existed, and before her conception she did not exist.

Or was sanctity present in the act of her conception, so that she would be holy at the same time as she was conceived?

But reason cannot accept this, for how can anything be holy without the presence of the Sanctifying Spirit, and how can the Holy Spirit have any part in sin, and how can there not be sin where there is carnal lust?

Perhaps someone might say that she was 1 In fact an ordinary Calendar of the Church now has a good 280 feasts, not counting Sundays, out of the 365 days of the year.

But whether everyone regards this as a foretaste of heaven is a matter open to enquiry.

TO THE CANONS OF THE CHURCH OF LYONS

conceived of the Holy Spirit and not of man, but this is a thing hitherto quite unheard of. I read that the Holy Spirit came upon her, but not that it came with her, when the angel said: 'The Holy Spirit shall come upon thee'.

If it is permitted to say what the Church thinks, and the Church thinks what is true, I say that she conceived of the Holy Spirit, not that she herself was conceived of the Holy Spirit; that she gave birth as a virgin, but not that she was born of a virgin.

Otherwise where would the unique privilege of the Mother of the Lord be, whereby she alone is believed to be able to glory in both the birth of a child and in the virginity of her body, if we concede as much to her mother?

This is not to honour the Virgin, but to detract from her honour.

If therefore it was quite impossible for her to have been sanctified before her conception, because she did not then exist; or in the act of her conception, because of the presence of sin; it remains that she was sanctified after her conception, when she was already in the womb, and that this sanctification excluded sin and rendered her birth, but not her conception, holy.

8. And so, although it has been given to very few of the sons of men to be born holy, it has not been given to any to be conceived holy, so that the prerogative of a holy conception might be reserved for him alone who sanctified all of us; the only person who, being conceived without sin, cleansed all sinners.

It is true for all the sons of men what one of them humbly and truly admitted of himself: 'I was born in sin; guilt was with me already when my mother conceived me'.

9. This being so, what reason can there be for a feast of the Conce tion?

How, I ask, can a conception be holy which was not of the Holy Spirit, not to say that it was of sin; and how can a feast be kept in honour of what was not holy?

Gladly will the mother of God forgo an honour by which either sin is honoured or by which a false holiness seems to be implied.

A novelty, the mother of rashness, the sister of superstition, the daughter of levity, presumed against the practice of the Church, can in no wise at all be pleasing to her.

If you thought such a feast advisable, you should have first consulted the Holy See, and not have followed so hastily and so unadvisedly the simplicity of the uneducated.

In fact I have before now observed this very error amongst some persons, but in order to spare the devotion of simple hearts for the Virgin, I have overlooked it.

But when I find this superstition amongst learned men in the noble church of which I am specially the son, I doubt whether I could overlook it without grave offence to you all.

I have said all this in submission to the judgement of anyone wiser than myself, and especially in submission to the authority of the Roman Church, to whose decision I refer all that I have said on this or any other such subject, prepared to modify anything I may have said, if it should be contrary to what she thinks.

1 See par. 3 ad fin.

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LETTER 216

TO THE PATRIARCH OF JERUSALEM

William, a monk of Tours, was Patriarch of Jerusalem from 1130-1145, and almost certainly it is to him that this letter is addressed.

T would appear churlish of me not to answer the many patriarchal I letters I have received from you.

But what more can I do than reet you in return for your greetings to me?

" With abundant beans you have met me on the way ', you, have taken the initiative by being the first to greet me with letters from across the sea, and by so doing you have robbed me of the opportunity of being the first to make the advances of humility and charity. What worthy return can I make?

You have left me no return that I can make equal to what you have given me.

You have also shared with me the treasure of all the ages, by bestowing on me a part of the Cross of Christ; and what return can I possibly make for this?

But that I cannot give you what I ought is no reason for not giving you what I can, even though it be only to show a ready heart and will by writing back and saluting you.

For the present this is all I have to offer you across such a great distance of land and sea.

But if the opportunity ever comes, I will prove that it is not only in word that I love you, but in very deed.

Regard, I beg you, the Knights of the Temple, and open your loving heart to these brave champions of the Church.

It would be most acceptable to God and welcome to men, if you would care for these men who are ready to lay down their lives for their brethren.

Brother Andrew will tell you what I have in mind for the place to which you have invited us.?

LETTER 217

TO WILLIAM, PATRIARCH OF JERUSALEM

To his venerable lord and most dear father William, by the grace of God the Patriarch of Jerusalem, the Spirit of Truth which proceedeth from the Father, from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux. ee man myself I am taking this opportunity of writing a few words to you, a busy man too, by the present bearer, a good and loyal friend of mine.

And if anyone should think this presumption on my part, it isa pardonable presumption for it arises from affection.

But, so as not to be drawn into a long letter when I have promised to 1. . de thesauro seculorum mihi impertire curasti, id est de ligno Domini.

Eales translates:

"Even of your worldly treasures you have been careful to make me a sharer in giving me a part of the Cross of the Lord '.

2 a ae Andrew': this may have been an uncle of St. Bernard, who was a Knight of the 'emple.

TO WILLIAM, PATRIARCH OF JERUSALEM

write only a short one, let me come at once to the point.

When God the creator was pleased to reveal the depths of his design for the salvation of the human race, he so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son.

And he, for the sake of men, became man, and out of the sons of men he called some to himself, men especially chosen, especially loved.

And of this chosen band, there was one especially chosen by him; out of this body of well-loved friends, there was one especially loved whom he set apart for a special mark of his favour.

When he was lifted up on the cross and with raised hands was offering his eventide sacrifice, but before he commended his spirit to his Father, he chose this man to take his place with his mother; a virgin he entrusted his virgin mother to this virgin disciple, as brother to brother.

But why am I saying this?

Attend carefully.

2. The Lord has chosen many people, and of them he has made some leaders, so that they might have the dignity of the priesthood.

But you, as a certain intimate favour, he has placed in the house of his child David.

To you alone of all the bishops of the world he has committed that land which ' yielded grasses that grow, and a fruit tree giving fruit of its own kind' from the root of which sprang that flower of the field, that lily of the valleys. You alone, I say, have been chosen out by the Lord to be his own bishop, to enter his tabernacle each day, and to adore him in the very place whereon his feet have stood.

We read that holy Moses was once told, when he was to deliver a command from the Lord to the Children of Israel:

' Take the shoes from thy feet, thou art standing on holy ground'.

That too was a holy place, but only as a figure of this other holy place where Truth was manifested by the sign of holiness.

The first was holy, but this place is more so.

What is there like to truth?

What has that which is only seen in a glass darkly to compare with the glory which, when the veil has been rent, is seen with face revealed?

And yet, since all these things were happening in figure and in illustration ot what was to come, it was said to Moses:

* Take the shoes from thy feet, thou art standing on holy ground'.

And I say to you: 'Take the shoes from thy feet, thou art standing on holy land'.

If your heart is still somewhat wrapped in the works of darkness, quickly set it free: thou art standing on holy land.

What a fearsome place is this!

For here, by the merciful kindness of God, the Day Star from on high first dawned upon us.

What a fearsome place is this!

For here the father first met the son returning from his place of exile! and, falling on his neck, clothed him in the robe of immortality!

How fearsome is this place! For here the dear Lord poured wine and oil into our wounds, and the merciful Father, the God of all consolation,

1. .

. filio revertenti de regione dissimilitudinis.

Regio dissimilitudinis is a technical phrase of St. Bernard.

Man, created in the image of God, has exiled himself from God so as to become disfigured by sin. Vide Gilson, La Théologie Mystique de Saint Bernard, p. 62—quite the best study on the subject.

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made a pact with us.

I give thanks to thee, O Lord, because thou hast brought deliverance to the earth and revealed to it thy grace.

When thou wast angry thou didst not forget thy mercy.

This is a place far more holy, far more renowned than where Moses stood, because it is the place of the Lord, the place of him who came by blood and water, not by water only like Moses, but by blood and water.

Behold the place where they laid him!

'Who dares climb the mountain of the Lord or who will stand in his holy place?'

Only he should do so who has learned from the Lord Jesus Christ how to be meek and humble of heart.

3. Only the humble man can safely climb the mountain, because only the humble man has nothing to trip him up. The proud man may climb it indeed, yet he cannot stand for long; for the proud man is like one who would stand not on his own feet but on the foot of another, that foot of which the Prophet spoke in abhorrence saying:

'Let not the foot of pride come unto me'.

The proud man has only one foot to stand on: love of his own excellence.

And so he cannot stand for long, because he is like a man standing only on one foot.

Who can stand long on that foot, the foot on which they stood who did wickedness and fell: the angel in heaven, the man in paradise?

If God did not spare the man whom he crowned with glory and honour, whom he had set over the work of his hands, nor yet the angel who was the first of his works, full of wisdom and comeliness, how much more should I fear that he will not spare me when I am proud, I who live not in a paradise of delights, nor in a heavenly palace, but here in this vale of tears?

Therefore to stand firmly, we must stand humbly.

So that our feet may never stumble we must stand, not on the single foot of pride, but on the two feet of humility.

Humility has two feet: appreciation of divine power and consciousness of personal weakness.

How fair are these feet and how strong, neither involved in dark ignorance nor defiled by deceitful excess! Take care that being set up on high you do not become high-minded; but be fearful and humble yourself under the powerful hand of him who treads the pride of the haughty in the dust. You must know that your church has been entrusted to you not as a handmaid to a lord but, so as to return to what

I said at the beginning, as a mother to a son, as Mary to John, so that it might be said to you of her, ' Son, this is your mother ', and to her of you, ' Mother, this is your son'.

Thus you can safely undertake to rule in the name of him who, although he is ' high above us, stoops to regard the lowly things in heaven and earth'.

THE ARCHBISHOP OF TREVES AND POPE INNOCENT II

In a letter to Pope Innocent (Benedictine Edition, 176), Albero, Archbishop of Tréves, regrets the impossibility of getting to Rome to see the Pope himself, learn how he was prospering, and inform him of his own affairs.

He tells him that he is sending in his stead a reliable messenger in the person of Hugh, Archdeacon of

TO POPE INNOCENT II

Toul.

And he informs the Pope of the unity and complete loyalty to his cause of the Church in France, and that the loss of Benevento, Capua, even if need be of Rome itself, could not shake his confidence in the ultimate victory of Pope Innocent over the schismatics.

The king, Lothair, he tells him, is preparing a large army for the liberation of the Church.

In another letter to Pope Innocent (Benedictine Edition, 177), Albero says that he never wanted a bishopric and that if he ever had done so it would not have been that of Tréves, for the people are an exasperating and stiff-necked lot.

He has done a lot for them, he says, but his labours have not been appreciated.

Among his many difficulties the chief is his young and nobly born suffragans who, so far from supporting him as they should, oppose him in every possible way.

He begs the Pope to help him, saying that he has borne with all his difficulties patiently, if not willingly, so as not to seerh disobedient towards him.

He concludes by telling the Pope that he has many things to complain of in his behaviour towards him; that, although he was prepared to die for him, yet he had not received from him the support he felt entitled to expect.

LETTER 218

TO POPE INNOCENT, ON BEHALF OF THE ARCHBISHOP OF TREVES

To his most loving father and lord, Innocent, Supreme Pontiff, the entire devotion of his Bernard.

SPEAK confidentially because I love sincerely.

The love which I retains any dregs of doubt or suspicion is no true love.

The Archbishop of Tréves is not alone in his complaints, many are murmuring about the same thing, especially those who are most sincerely devoted to you.

What all who conscientiously fulfil their pastoral charge are saying, is, that righteousness is perishing in the Church; that the keys of the Church are abolished; and that the authority of bishops is being brought into contempt because they are not able to avenge the offences given to God and are not allowed to punish any unlawfulness at all, even in their own dioceses.

They refer the matter to you and the Roman Curia and you, so they say, demolish what they have done well, and set up again what they have rightly demolished.

Any mischievous or troublesome person, be he from the people, or from the clergy, or even expelled from the monasteries, runs to you.

When they come back they boast and swagger that they have found protectors amongst those very persons by whom they ought to have been corrected.

Was not the sword of Phinces promptly and rightly drawn to punish the incestuous alliance between Drogo and Milis?

But now the blade is being turned off and blunted by the protecting shield of the Apostolic See.

For shame!

What glee this has caused amongst the enemies of the Church, especially amongst those people by the fear or favour of whom we have perhaps been led from the right course.

Our friends are put to the blush, the faithful are insulted, and the bishops are everywhere shamed and despised. When this happens, when no one pays attention to their just decisions, then your authority also suffers.

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2. Yet these are the people who are zealous for your honour; these are the people who labour loyally for your peace and victory, but I fear that their labours may be in vain. Why are you weakening their strength like this? Why are you undermining their influence in this way?

For how much longer will you continue to blunt the arms of your loyal warriors and cast down the horn of your strength and salvation?

The church of St. Gengulph at Toul mourns her desolation with bitter tears, and there is none to comfort her.

For who can withstand the strength of a strong arm, or the force of a torrent in spate, or the authority of the Supreme Pontiff?

The Blessed Paul complains that he has to sustain the same violence on his church at Verdun.t

The archbishop is unable to defend it any longer from the mad excesses of the monks since, as though they were not insane enough, they have been further strengthened by the force of the Apostolic See. What new reason, I pray, have you discovered for re-opening the question of what has been granted by a wise and necessary dispensation to canons of blameless life, and bringing it to judgement again, after it had been once granted, and then confirmed, and then, so they say, ratified?

And indeed both the matters above mentioned are said to have been settled by you and then abolished.

By such sacrifices God is not pleased.

Alas, his anger is not mollified by this, nor his grace won, nor his pity moved.

Over these and the like the anger of the Lord is not turned away, his arm is still stretched out, and the rod spoken of by Jeremias is over our sins still.

3. The Lord is wrath indeed with the schismatics, but he is by no means pleased with the Catholics.

Also the church of Metz is in grave danger, as you know very well, from the quarrel between the bishop and clergy.

You know your own mind in this affair; but there is no peace yet, nor any prospect of it in the near future.

To tell the truth, it seems to my insignificance that this and the troubles of the churches of Verdun and Toul could be more safely and conveniently settled by their metropolitan who knows all the facts, has experience, and of whose fidelity the Church is witness.

Have a care what you do in those two dioceses of Metz and Toul for, as things are, they might just as well be without bishops.?

I wish I could say they were without tyrants.

When men like these are defended, upheld, honoured, and 1The Bishop of Verdun had transferred the monastery of St. Paul of Verdun to the Premonstratensians because the Benedictines to whom it had belonged had become very relaxed.

The monks resisted the change and Peter the Venerable supported them.

Innocent was prepared to reconsider the case, but was persuaded by St. Bernard to let the matter stand.

* Stephen was Bishop of Metz and Henry, Bishop of Toul. Stephen is well spoken of in the records of those times.

St. Bernard himself warmly greets him in Letter 30.

It is possible that Stephen had displeased St. Bernard by having stirred up trouble in his diocese.

He also caused great ill feeling by attempting to impose upon the canons of Li'ge his own nominee as bishop, and Innocent tried to settle the matter by passing over the jurisdiction of the metropolitan, the Archbishop of Tréves.

It is this that St. Bernard complains of here.

With regard to Henry, Bishop of Toul, it seems that St. Bernard may have been wrongly informed of certain negotiations he was carrying on with Frederick, Count of Toul,

T® THE BISHOP OF OSTIA AND OTHERS

encouraged, many people are surprised and shocked, because they are very well aware that there are things in their lives which, even in the lives of the laity, not to say bishops, would deserve to be utterly condemned and reprobated; things of which I should be ashamed to write and of which it would not be seemly for you to hear.

Granted that without anyone to charge them they cannot be deposed, but is it necessary that the Apostolic See should honour and exalt by its special favour these men whom common report accuses?

4. On what grounds of personal merit, of either priestly holiness or of episcopal worthiness, has the Bishop of Metz been permitted to deprive the church of its liberty by annulling at his pleasure the election made by the canons, and causing his nominee, the provost, to be elected against the privileges of the church? How much more right and proper it would be, should it seem good to your judgement, that a man worthy of greater honour should not be deprived of the honour to which he is entitled.

I refer to the Archbishop of Tréves who, not without the dissatisfaction of God-fearing persons, has been prevented by you from settling both this and other affairs in his diocese as though he were a man under suspicion or of no experience.

Believe me, your loyal son, this is not, to my mind, a good thing for the diocese.

5. I might have feared the stigma of presumption by writing to.you like this were it not that I know to whom I am writing and myself who am writing.

I know your great goodness, and I know that you are fully aware of the great affection for you with which I have ventured to write this.

Again with regard to the Archbishop of Tréves, I should inform you that his messenger holds a great position in that kingdom; that he is a man loyal and constant in the support of you and the Church of God; that he is not at all an evil minded man, prone to listen to the seditious persons by whom he is often sorely troubled. I tell you this so that you may know how to receive and listen to him, for you would be exposing him to ridicule were you to rebuff him.

I wished to conclude by these words in favour of the messenger, but in fact his own virtues are a sufficient commendation, especially his great devotion to you.

If I did not believe this of him I would not on any account entrust such a personal letter as this to him.

LETTER 219

TO THE BISHOPS OF OSTIA, TUSCULUM, AND PALESTRINA ON BEHALF

OF THE SAME

op has set you up on high in order that the greater your authority G the better you may serve the Church.

But the Father of the household will put down from their seats the mighty whose great

1 Pritnicerius.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

osition is not justified by their service.

How great is the loss sustained by the bride of Christ in the bishopric of Metz!

I do not think you can be ignorant of it, although we feel it more for being so near.

It is a great wolf that is daily trying to break into the sheepfold of Christ both by guile and open attack, and to scatter the sheep that have been gathered together by the blood of Christ.

It is not merely from yesterday or the day before that he has assailed the flock of the Lord with all his might, he has harassed it with robbery, fire, and murder ever since he was a cub.

I do what I can to indicate the wolf and set the dogs on him.

You will see where your duty lies.

It is not for me to teach my teachers.

LETTER 220

TO POPE INNOCENT, ON BEHALF OF THE SAME

ow is it that evil triumphs over wisdom?

Do you know, dear H lord, the Archbishop of Tréves?

I am sure you do.

And do you also know that unholy Abbot of St. Maximin?

I think not.

Who could be more deserving of honour than the archbishop, or who more deserving of disgrace than that abbot?

What wrong has the archbishop done?

He has recovered the stolen property of his church, and he has freed a captive church from the clutches of laymen.

Is he not being repaid with injury for the good he has done, with hatred for his love?

Let your loving glance rest upon him, I pray.

Put by for a while your occupations and consider how ill he has been treated, that such a good man as you know him to be should be made a laughing stock to his neighbours and enemies by such a man as I would be ashamed to describe.

My dear father, it is my filial affection that speaks.

Hitherto I have sympathized with the unfortunate and unhappy archbishop.

But henceforth, if this injustice from which he suffers is not set right, I will take all my deep compassion and sorrow to him by whom it could be. There are other wrongs from which he is suffering and I have no doubt that in alleviating them you will be benefiting yourself, Whatever tarnishes the good name of my dear lord wounds my heart.

LET TER 221

TO THE SAME, ON BEHALF OF THE SAME

Ce my prayers, still my entreaties, though they be repeated ten — times, shall continue.

I shall not cease to plead with you because I shall never cease to have faith in you.

I have a good cause and I have a just judge, who will not delay to cancel the fraud when the truth appears.

Then he who had hoped to jeer will laugh no more.

As it is written, * malice is self-betrayed'.

The principle of the Holy See has never been ashamed to revoke what it discovers to have been obtained from it by fraud, and not honestly deserved.

It is a most

TO POPE INNOCENT

excellent and praiseworthy principle that no one shall gain by a lie, especially from the Holy and Supreme See.

Knowing this, your child confidently pleads for the Archbishop of Tréves, and so entreats not as one uncertain of the result.

For indeed I know very well the merits of that man, his cause, and his purpose.

For which of these do those monks want to stone him?

Because he has deserved ill of them?

But he has stood by them loyally and helped them in many things.

On account of the injustice of his cause?

But no one would question his justice save one who is himself unjust.

Is it because he has liberated the monastery, or rather, I should say, won it back for the episcopal' see from the clutches of laymen, as Hercules' club might be wrested from his hands by one stronger than he? Or is it for his evil intentions?

But it is a holy thing to do as he intended and reform the life of a monastery.

May the Lord enlighten the heart of my lord, that a march may not be again stolen on him by those monks who are not, as they pretend, so anxious for liberty as they are for licence.

LETTER 222

TO THE SAME, ON BEHALF OF THE SAME

ow often, my lord, have I not experienced your kindness and H affection!

It now remains for me to experience it in the hour of need. May God forbid that I should ever ask you for anything that I believed to be contrary to the honour of God or your interests.

My heart is quite at ease on that score, therefore I have every confidence that you will hear me, especially as I am petitioning a father for his son,

Innocent for an innocent man.

There is no need for me to tell you, for you must surely know, how from his youth up the Archbishop of Tréves has had at heart the honour of the Apostolic See and the peace of the Roman Church; how anxiously and firmly he has stood by it in times of tribulation and, while others rested in the shade, has borne the heat and burden of the day; and how steadfastly and bravely he has upheld the truth before kings in defence of his brethren.

Moreover ' to speak of what I know and testify what I have seen ' so that you may receive my testimony, what great prudence and foresight he showed in rescuing the goods and possessions of the Church from the power of alien foes; how generously and kindly he has always used his own possessions for the common good, and especially for those of the household of the faith; and how carefully and watchfully he has preserved his good name from 'treacherous lips and perjured tongues '.

~ 2, What, then, has he done to displease you?

Is it that he has rescued the church of blessed Maximus from the power of the king and subjected it to ecclesiastical authority?

Is it that he did not reccive that man who, they say, wished to be a general before he was a

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

soldier, an abbot before he was a monk?

If he has displeased you by this or something else, he certainly does not deserve to lose so easily the old affection of his loving father, but rather that his fault should be covered up by his father's affection, and that the memory of his many good works should excuse him, a man blameworthy in so little and praiseworthy in so much.

But now, my lord, you have exalted the men who were persecuting him and given joy to all his enemies.

Many people are wondering for what reason of personal merit, or on what reputation for virtue, a man who could not rule his own soul has been set up to rule over the souls of others.

How can such a man rule others, when he could not be ruled by others?

How can he dare to be over others, when he has never learned to submit to others?

How can he command obedience from others, when he has never known how to obey others?

'Ifa man knows not how to rule his own house, how shall he take care of the Church of God?'

Finally, as the father so shall the sons be; and of his sons, of their manners and way of life, who have cruelly torn their mother so as to foment schisms and quarrels, it were better to be silent than to speak.

But I have not said this so as to pass judgement on the servants of another: for their own lord they stand or fall.

All I know is that, if the wretched schemes of these men prevail, dissolute youths will follow their example by throwing off the yoke of discipline and roaming to and fro about the earth.

And even if they do not completely succeed in this, they will at any rate be able to boast that they were able to resist their superiors.

Alas!

How many men, and some of considerable consequence, who are confident of their claims on your mercy, will find their hope and confidence shaken, if a son who was once so loved b you, should be cast from your grace and favour by the first bieh of trouble.

3. If my prayers are of any avail with you, Holy Father, I beg you earnestly, I who love you for your own sake, that you should not cast off now that your affairs prosper the man who has stood by you in your troubles, or suffer his influence with you to be at all diminished, when he has every right to expect that it should be increased.

Otherwise, if contrary to the hope of all, and contrary to the deserts of the man himself, it should happen that strangers rob him of the fruit of his labours, that his good deeds are repaid by evil, and his love by hatred, then he alone would suffer a wound from a quarter he did not expect, but many would grieve at his persecution.

May the Spirit of Truth which proceedeth from the Father, teach you to distinguish in all things between light and darkness, so that you may know how to reject the evil and choose the good.

TO CARDINAL HAIMERIC

LETTER 223

TO CARDINAL HAIMERIC, CHANCELLOR

MIGHT as well try to meet arrows with straws as to repay with words | the kindnesses you have showered upon me; except that the former would seem a mere joke, whereas the latter might appear deceitful.

Deeds ought to be repaid by deeds.

But that would be too much for me, poor as I am in all but good will.

Therefore I will match your good deeds with my good will, because that is all I have to give.

I am rich in desires, I abound in good wishes, and certainly a real benefactor does not look for any more than this.

For how can anyone be a benefactor without being also benevolent?

And nothing is more precious to a benevolent man than the benevolence by which he is known as benevolent, and is beneficent.

Benevolence is a fruit of beneficence, unless perhaps there is someone who regards as a benefit what has been bestowed in the hope of a return, or forgone through fear of the consequences.

But who does not see that the latter is abandoned, the former sold, and neither given? A real benefit should be without self-interest.

He who has received cannot repay to him who has given anything more welcome than gratitude for what he has received gratis.

And this benevolence is created in the mind of him who receives by the benevolence of him who gives through the medium of beneficence.

I confess myself rich in this benevolence, and from a full heart I offer it as a fitting return to my benefactor.

I devoutly offer it up, a sacrifice of praise, to the maker of all things, for the salvation of my benefactor.

LETTER 224

TO HENRY, ARCHBISHOP OF SENS

This is the same Archbishop of Sens to whom St. Bernard addressed the long and important letter, included among his regular treatises, on the life and duties of a bishop.

He seems to have been a strong-willed prelate, not to say imperious.

He was surnamed ' The Wild Boar'.

In the year 1136 he seems to have got himself into serious trouble and been suspended for a time. conress that I have often intended to write to you for your own

I sake on behalf of other people, and then have decided not to do so on account of your hateful hardness: but charity shall prevail.

I want to keep your friends for you, but you will not condescend to it.

I wish to reconcile your enemies to you, but you will not suffer it.

You will not have peace, you are set on rushing to your own shame, confusion, and deposition.

You are multiplying your accusers and driving away your supporters.

In everything your own sweet will is law, you think only of power and not at all of the fear of God.

All your enemies

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

are laughing about you, all your friends complaining.

How could you have unfrocked that man when he had not been, I do not say convicted in court, but even summonsed.

Everyone will be shocked by this, everyone will be whispering about it, everyone will jeer at it, everyone will be indignant.

Do you really think that the whole world is as void of all sense of justice as you seem to be, so that you can deprive a man of his archdeaconry in this way without causing remark?

Or perhaps it pleases you more to give it and then take it away, than to retain his gratitude for the gift of it?! Do not, I pray, do not do this thing, which will shock everyone and please no one.

Perhaps I have written more boldly and more bitingly than you could wish, but if you will correct your ways you will see it has been for your good.

LETTER 225

TO CONRAD, KING OF THE ROMANS

To Conrad, by the grace of God the illustrious and glorious king of the Romans, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux, the loving prayers of himself and his brethren.

LTHOUGH we are situated a long way from you, yet we love you A and desire your honour with all our hearts.

The knowledge of this renders us bold and confident, especially in matters that we know concern your honour and salvation.

And now we petition you concerning a certain business, which is not so much ours as his from whom all power comes and whom you have to thank for your glory and world-wide fame.

To be as brief as possible to one so busy as you are, we have entrusted the affair to our brother the Abbot of Eberbach,? and we implore your royal Majesty to lend a favourable ear to his petition, or rather to our petition through him.

EET TIERS 226

TO THE SAME

I HAVE received your letters and greetings with a devotion equal to my unworthiness; the unworthiness of my position, not of my devotion for you.

The complaints of the king are mine as well, especially those which you fittingly express concerning the invasion of the empire.

I have never wanted the king to be dishonoured or the empire to be diminished, and my soul hates those who do, for I have read, "let every soul be subject to the higher powers', and, 'he that resisteth the power resisteth the ordinance of God'.

And I would 1 Sed vos forsitan plus amatis reddere, et perdere, quam gratiam de beneficio retinere.

Bales:

' But you perhaps are better pleased to give it back after seizing it, rather than to deserve his gratitude by suffering him to retain it '.

2 A Cistercian house founded from Clairvaux in 1131.

TO POPE INNOCENT II

advise you too to remember this sentence in showing reverence to the Supreme and Apostolic See, and to the representative of St. Peter, just as you would wish it to be shown to you by the whole empire.

I have certain other things to say to you that were better not written; it would be more suitable to tell you them in person.

LETTER 227

TO POPE INNOCENT

W;: have received Brother Andrew safe and happy, bringing with him glad tidings of your safety and glory, of the peace and prosperity of the Church, of the flourishing and strong condition of the Curia, and finally of the favour and benevolence with which you still regard us.

"God in his mercy has shown us favour, and our hearts are rejoiced.'

But your wish that we should send you brothers cannot easily be fulfilled, principally because we have not the usual large numbers with us.

Besides those who have been sent in twos and threes to other places, three new monasteries have been wholly founded from here since I left you,! and there remain others to be founded in the near future.

Yet I shall take measures to summon some from other houses whom I can send you, since I wish in all things to be obedient to you.

BERNARD, ABBOT OF ST. SAVIOUR

In a letter to Pope Innocent (Benedictine Edition, 343), Bernard, the Abbot of St.

Saviour, near Farfa in Italy (the monk sent by the Abbot of Clairvaux, at the behest of the Pope referred to in the preceding letter, to make a foundation in Italy), complains that he has encountered nothing but difficulties since leaving Clairvaux and his abbot, and that he has not received the support promised him by the Pope.

In another letter (Benedictine Edition, 344), Bernard writes to St. Bernard bitterly lamenting that he ever left Clairvaux, and complaining that, although he was sent at the behest of the Pope, the Pope has not kept his side of the engagement by confirming his donation of the place.

He concludes by saying that he has received nothing but kindness and support from the Abbot of Farfa.

It is to be noted that both these letters are from the same Bernard who afterwards became Abbot of Tre

Fontane near Rome, and finally Pope as Eugenius III.

LETTER 228

TO EUSTACE, THE OCCUPIER OF THE SEE OF VALENCE

To the illustrious man Eustace, from Brother Bernard.

HoUGH I do not say so in letters, 1 do want your salvation, my Barret friend.

And who is to stop me wanting?

Laws cannot command the will, nor can princes rule it. The will is free, especially when it is led by the spirit, because * where the spirit of the 1 These were: La-Bénissons-Dieu, Les Dunes, and Clairmarais.

This letter would therefore have been written soon after the foundation of the last-named monastery in 1140.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

Lord is, there is liberty'.

And so my spirit has become bold and, although unbidden, unasked, and uninvited, I am writing to you as though I were myself a person of consequence.

But what if charity should bid me?

Another, perhaps, might act differently but I have undertaken, in the spirit of charity, to address in this letter a nobleman and advise him as far as I am able as to his salvation, arouse him from his slumbers, incite him to search his heart, and stir him to follow grace.

Who knows, I tell myself, whether God may not relent and forgive and leave a blessing behind?

Indeed who does not know how abundant are the riches of his goodness and forgiveness which the merciful and compassionate God has already laid up for him? He has been merciful, patient, forgiving, and long-suffering even up to now; 'he has become like a man that heareth not, that hath no reproofs in his mouth', slow to anger, ever prone to forgive.

To you, most excellent man, I say: how long will you hesitate, how long will you scorn to turn to him?

It is hard for you to kick against the pricks.

' Knowest thou not that the goodness of God leadest thee to repentance?

But according to thy hardness and impenitent heart, thou treasurest up for thyself, wrath against the day of wrath, and the revelation of the just judgement of God.'

2. Or is it more from shame than hardness of heart?

But what matters it from what you are perishing?

O shame void of all sense, hostile to salvation, empty of all honesty and honour!

This is the sort of shame that the Wise Man says ' makes a sinner ofa man'.

Is it such a shameful thing for a man to yield to God or such a disgrace to be humbled under the powerful hand of the Almighty?

Did not that glorious king David say: 'Thee only my sins have offended; thou wast witness of my wrong doing; thy warnings were deserved, and if thou art called in question, thou hast right on thy side'? To yield to the Divine Majesty is the highest sort of victory, to submit to the authority of mother Church is the highest glory.

What extraordinary perversity not to mind befouling oneself, and yet to mind being cleansed!

According to the Wise Man there is also a shame that is ' the grace and glory of a man'; if, that is, he is ashamed to sin, but not ashamed to repent for having sinned: thus you will not lack glory even though it come late in the day, shame bringing back the glory that sin put to flight. They hold the second place of blessedness whose sins are forgiven, whose 'transgressions are buried deep'.

Honourable indeed is that burial cloth of which we read:

' Honour and beauty are before him'. Who will grant that I may see you in this golden vesture, that I may say to you: 'Glory and beauty are thy clothing'?

"Come back, maid of Sulam, come back; let us feast our eyes on you.'

Arise, arise, clothe yourself in strength, and put on the vesture of salvation.

Arise, you who sleep, arise from death and Christ will enlighten your darkness.

'Linger not in the false

TO EUSTACE, OCCUPIER OF THE SEE OF VALENCE

pase of wickedness, give thanks while breath is in thee; the dead reathe no more, give thanks no more.'

3. For how long will you forget yourself?

For how long will you sleep in death, the ornament of the nobility, but the grief of the faithful ?

How long will you stubbornly resist your better nature, estranged from honour, opposed to salvation? Why do you persist in pursuing an end so inconsistent with your eminent life and actions?! How can your old age, which ought to be spent in quiet and fruitful acts of mercy, support the punishment due to the sins of your past life, and wipe out their guilt? Why should your venerable grey head alone be robbed of its honour, why should it pass away unhonoured, when honour especially becomes it? 'Thy soul befriend, doing God's will'; "God has put to confusion those that please men, for he hath despised them.'

Brief are the days of men, death is at the door of an old man.

You have only a short time, a very short time, with those who say to you, ' Well done!'

Consider it a small thing to be judged by them, or by the standards of men, you who are already about to appear before the scrutiny of heaven, a pitiful old man being even now dragged before the terrific tribunal of Christ by the failure of nature.

You should be preparing yourself for judgement, you should be conforming yourself to that other world and, fearful of rebuff, you should be cultivating friends in that court.

Why heed the opinions of those whose praise will not help you, whose abuse cannot condemn you?

"Man is but emptiness, light weight sons of Adam as false coin in the scales; vain are all their conspiracies to deceive.'

4. For these reasons those who call you blessed, deceive you.

They give you words only in exchange for your gifts. Both are vain, especially words.

You deceive from vanity; but you are the more deceived, they the less. What you give is, at any rate, worth something; and you give to ungrateful people, to undeserving people.

They are not seeking either you or your interests, they are out only for themselves.

They hunt, as they can, your gifts with false and empty praises.

'Their words soothe like oil, but they are weapons of death.'

Therefore David said: "Never shall the sinner sleek this head with the oil of flattery'.

By these ' the sinner is praised in the desires of his soul and the unjust man is blessed'.

Not I, but the Wise Man warns you to be careful of these, saying, 'Turn a deaf ear, my son, to the blandishments of evildoers who would make thee of their company'.

Attend rather to him who judges with equity the meek of the earth who look up to you and are not fed, but who are oppressed by your worldly power. You would not have any power at all over them were it not given you from above. This is your hour, and the 1 guid illos egregios mores, actusque tuos tam dissimili pergis exitu consummare?

Eales translates:

'Why do you proceed to consummate your previous excellent character and actions with so .

? different an ending ?

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

power of darkness.

But listen:

'Strictly his doom falls on those whose heads are lifted high; for greatness greater torment is reserved '.

If you fear this, you will take care; if you are heedless of it, you will fall into it, and 'it is a fearful thing to fall into the hand of the living

God'.

May the one true God save you from such a thing, * he who does not wish for the death of a sinner, but rather that he should turn from his evil ways and live'.

Sharp words are not popular, although they are right; wholesome counsels are not well liked because they are sour.

And so I will put my finger to my lips and say no more until I know how you have taken this.

Believe me, I wish to do what I can to please you, but in deed and truth, not with pen and tongue.

LET IER 2220

TO SIMON, THE SON OF THE CASTELLAN OF CAMBRAI

The Abbey of Vaucelles mentioned in the following letter, was founded by St. Bernard in person in the year 1132.

Ralph, the first abbot, was an Englishman, and Nivard, St. Bernard's youngest brother, was the first novice master. ws I learned, my dear friend, from Ralph, the Abbot of Vaucelles, of your desire to see and talk to me, I was greatly moved by your devotion; and surely I am not ungrateful for your good will.

You must know that I want to satisfy your desire, but that I am prevented by bodily weakness from doing what I wish not only in this matter but in many other matters as well, and in much necessary business.

But although absent in body, Iam present to you in spirit, until it pleases God that I should be present to you in both body and spirit; if however we love not in word only, but in truth and very deed.

And so this is what I ask of you: will you, as an outstanding mark of your generosity and a clear proof of the charity you promise, love for my sake what you have of mine amongst you, I mean the brethren of Vaucelles and their church, caring for them and helping them if necessary?

And I should like now to make a first proof of your charity by asking you to ratify and not render void your father's gift to me of the forest of Ligecourt for the support of that monastery.

We also, for our part, while rendering thanks to you for your kindness in the past and hoping for the same in the future, pour forth our prayers for you and yours to him ' who does the will of them that fear him and hears their prayers'. We pray for the welfare of your wife and of all who belong to you.

TO COUNT WILLIAM OF NEVERS

LETTER 230

TO COUNT WILLIAM OF NEVERS

This letter is addressed to the Count of Nevers who became a Carthusian at the Grande Chartreuse in 1147, and appears to refer to his intention of doing this.

To the pious Count William of Nevers, the greetings and prayers of Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

I WANT, to meet you at the time and place we arranged, but there is a reason why I cannot do so; a reason which you, unless I am mistaken, will consider just and reasonable when you know it. I am glad that you value and remember wholesome advice, even when it is given you by insignificant and common persons.

Therefore I advise and implore you by the salvation you hope for, that you nevertheless go to the Abbot of Pontigny as you had intended, for he is a wise and religious man and your firm friend, and decide the matter with his advice as well as with the advice of those other men of counsel, whom you have.judged it expedient to call together for the purpose.

In the meantime we will pray for you; and I trust in the Lord Jesus that, though I shall not be there, he will be present, and make known to you his will through his servants.

Farewell.

LETTER 231

TO THE SAME

To his dear friend in Christ, William, greetings from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

ECAUSE you show yourself so ready to obey, I must be all the more B cautious in what I advise or command you.

It is indeed fitting that you should complete as soon as possible the good beginnings of your conversion. Having acted manfully in disdaining your worldly goods, it remains for you to leave yourself as well by living no longer under your own will, like a true follower of Christ who became obedient to his Father even unto death and who, when he could do all things, declared that he could do nothing of himself but as the Father had taught him.

But as you assure me that the needs of the time, the necessities of the poor, and the care of your household seem to forbid that for the time, I too, in so far as it rests with me, do not prohibit you from what charity dictates in the matter, providing you do not overstay the time you have settled with yourself.

I would only warn you not to waste wantonly this liberty which has been conceded to you for a time in following your whims, or even (may such a thing be far

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

from you!) in occupying yourself with secular affairs, rather than in concerning yourself with the things of God.

LETTER. 232

TO J., COUNT OF NEVERS, THE SON OF THE ABOVE

To J., Count of Nevers, greeting and prayers from his friends and brothers at Clairvaux.

B believe that you have an abundance of this world's goods, but Wire servants of God at Molesme are suffering from such great poverty that, so we have heard, they have not any bread, nor can they easily find an income for the support of their great numbers that would be sufficient to correct the situation.

We have taken care to suggest this to you privately, they being quite ignorant of our action and expecting nothing at all of the sort from us, so that if it should be in your heart to give an alms to God, you may know that there is at present great want in that monastery.

But if not, if you have nothing to give them, or if you do not want to give them anything, you can refuse without any offence to them as they do not know we have approached you in the matter.

LETTER 233

TO COUNT EBAL OF FLORE

This letter was written on behalf of the monastery of Benedictine monks at Liesses.

BernarD, Abbot of Clairvaux, to his dear son Ebal of Flore, that he may decline evil and do good. y humbly commending yourself to my prayers, by devotedly

B associating yourself with our community, by not hesitating to put me to the fatigue of a long, albeit a fruitless journey, you have given me confidence to rebuke you when necessary.

What do you think my prayers can avail you when every day you thwart them by your evil deeds?

I have heard that besides the innumerable other evils which you unceasingly inflict on the monastery which your devout mother built for the monks of Liesses, you deny the liberty (not that is .

. that they may leave it free and letting go what is their own withdraw from it completely!). Who advised you to do this?

This 1 As it stands it is not easy to see what this sentence means.

The condition of the MS. is very bad just here.

This is the Latin as published by Huffer: Tu enim sicut audivi preter alia mala innumera que committere non cessas monasterio, quod monachis Lesciensibus tua religiosa mater exstruxit, libertatem contradicis, non videlicet

. et ipsi a se liberum relinquant et de manu sua, quod suum abicientes absolutum dimittant.

Quis tibi hoc consulit?

Hee libertas quam illi monasterio queris peior est omni servitute.

TO BERALD, ABBOT OF ST. BENIGNUS, DIJON

liberty which you seek for that monastery is worse than any slavery.

If you will believe me and acquiesce in my advice, if you wish my prayers, I do not say to benefit you, but not grievously to injure you, from now on you must put aside this obstinacy of yours and, without excuses or delay, confirm the gift as it was made by your mother to these holy brothers, yet so that they promise to keep there as many monks as may conveniently and wholly maintain the life, while you and your mother undertake to provide food and clothing so that the monks may be supported in the service of God.

LETTER 234

TO BERALD, ABBOT OF ST. BENIGNUS, DIJON

To the venerable Berald, Abbot of St. Benignus at Dijon, his lord and friend, the spirit of pity, from Brother Bernard, unworthy Abbot of Clairvaux.

APPEAL to your loving heart for this little sheep of yours who has I strayed from the fold.

I beg you to have mercy and compassion on him, after the example of the Good Shepherd.

I know full well how capricious he is, I know that he has left his monastery twice before this and been received back.

Nevertheless your paternity knows very well that mercy must be preferred to justice and Blessed Benedict, who says that a monk is to be received back up to three times, is especially to be obeyed.

It is for this that Brother Henry implores your kindness.

But if you are not minded to attend to me on this, as a last resource Brother Henry begs that you should give him dimissorial letters so that with your licence he may make his soul in some other monastery.

As for myself, I can tell you that ' the Lord has chastised me, chastised me indeed, but would not doom me to die'.

BUGGO, BISHOP OF WORMS, AND ST. BERNARD

In a letter addressed to the Abbot of Clairvaux, Buggo, Bishop of Worms, complains that his many letters to the abbot had been ignored.

He rather peremptorily tells Bernard to respect at least his importunity and satisfy his request by sending him a monk to guide the young Cistercian foundation in his diocese for which he is supplying the material needs.

In another letter in much the same vein as the first, but less peremptory, the same bishop says that he is surprised that his repeated letters to the Abbot of Clairvaux have received no response, and attributes it to his sins.

A letter written "more in trief than in anger'.

Both these letters appeared in the Bulletin de I' Académie royale, Bruscels, 1861.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

LETTER 235

TO BUGGO, BISHOP OF WORMS

St. Bernard's answer to the letters mentioned above.

This letter is notable for the saint's avowal that it was his habit always to answer his letters, even when they were from people of humble station.

Unhappily a large part of the MS. is defective.

To his venerable lord and very dear father Buggo, by the grace of God Bishop of Worms, that he may see the Lord's mercies in the land of the living, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

HAVE received your letters, reverend father, with due veneration, and ' my heart was in awe of your words'.

You say that you are surprised, and take it ill, and attribute it to your sins that, after having written to me very often, you have not only failed to obtain what you asked for, but that you have not even received a word in answer.

If this is so, I attribute to myself your words and say that I am surprised and take it ill and ascribe it to my sins.

If I have done this thing willingly and knowingly, it is pride and a slight on the Lord Christ.

But it has hitherto always been my habit to answer all my letters, even when they are from people of humble station; how much more so therefore when they are from those who are seen to be the columns of the Church of God.

I believe on account of this .

. of answering you on account of my affairs which grow daily .

1am, or without letters to have answered you by word of mouth through a messenger, whose tongue I hold in as great esteem as ' the pen of a scrivener that writeth swiftly'.

For besides these two .

. I find a third reason.

Concerning brother E., I say briefly .

. because he is a brother of great hopes; but since he is, as it were, still an unfledged bird in the nest .

. it does not seem safe to send him back amongst his neighbours and friends .

. lest he be involved in some crisis.1

But when " his hands are skilled in battle, and his right arm a match for any bow of bronze', then according to the will of heaven, so be it. if it should seem hard to you that you have not been sent Brother A. consider how necessary he is to us.

THE CONTROVERSY WITH PETER ABELARD

Tue following letters concern the controversy between St. Bernard and Peter Abelard

Everyone is familiar with the story of Abelard's romantic although illicit love affair with Héloise, but with this we are not concerned: Peter Abelard has a surer title to fame than a romantic love affair.

Abelard was born at Le Pallet near Nantes in the year 1079. Destined for the arm he soon abandoned a military career for the schools:

' Mars for Minerva'. as ke expresses it in the fashion of the times.

He sat under Roscelinus, a wellincwn *MS. very defective in all these places.

NOTE ON THE CONTROVERSY WITH ABELARD

nominalist philosopher of those days whose doctrine was condemned at Soissons in 1092.

He then went to Anselm of Laon, a teacher of the opposite school, and finally left him for William of Champeaux, who afterwards became Bishop of Chalons-sur-Marne and a friend of St. Bernard.

Otto of Freising, a contemporary who had himself sat under Abelard, wrote that Abelard was so arrogant and selfopinionated that he would scarcely demean himself to listen to his masters.

And Abelard himself boasts of how vexatious he made himself to William of Champeaux by refuting his arguments and reasoning against him.

Eventually he left William of Champeaux to set up a school of his own at Melun, and then, nearer Paris, at Corbeil.

Here his health broke down through over study and he was obliged to give up his school and retire to Brittany in order to recuperate.

Soon afterwards we find him back again in Paris.

But the schools had had enough of him andclosed their doors to him.

In the year 1113 he founded his own school on Mont St. Geneviéve.

Here he wrote his book on 'The Divine Unity and Trinity' which was condemned at Soissons in 1121.

After this he retired to the Abbey of St. Denis in Paris, to leave it a year later in order to live on his own in a remote spot in the territory of Theobald II, Count of Champagne.

Very soon he was joined by disciples, and an oratory was built dedicated first to the Holy Trinity and afterwards to the Paraclete.

It is said that the life he led here with his disciples was so severe as to rival that of the Cistercians.

After three years of this life he was elected Abbot of St. Giles de Rhuys in Brittany but, finding himself totally incapable of ruling others, he retired again to the Paraclete.

Here, under the combined direction of himself and Héloise, a small community of nuns was formed.

But in 1136 he is back again in Paris, teaching at St. Geneviéve.

It was William of St. Thierry who first gave the alarm to St. Bernard in a letter describing the novel and dangerous doctrines of Abelard.

A meeting was arranged between him and the saint.

It is not clear exactly what transpired at this meeting, but we know that soon afterwards Abelard was clamouring to be faced with St.

Bernard before a council of bishops.

The Council of Sens met on the octave of Pentecost in the year 1140.

The king and most of the bishops of France were present, including the legate.

Abelard came full of confidence and surrounded by his disciples and friends.

There can be no doubt that he hoped to make a show in which the Abbot of Clairvaux would retire discomfited.

But to the amazement of everyone, when St. Bernard arose at the Council and before the whole assembly called upon him to defend himself on the points in question, Abelard refused to answer a word and appealed direct to Rome.

The bishops thereupon sent to Rome a list of the chosen passages from his works which they considered erroneous.

Abelard immediately set out to defend himself in person before the papal court, but he was met at Cluny, where he had paused on the way, with the news that his books had been publicly burned in Rome and that he had been condemned by a rescript dated July 16th, 1140.

After this he remained at Cluny under the kindly protection of Peter the Venerable, and on April 21st, 1142, he ended his life with a pious and edifying death at St.

Marcel near Chilons-sur-Sadne.

It is pleasant to record that before he died he was reconciled with St. Bernard.

The character of Peter Abelard still remains a matter of controversy.

On one side his admirers hail him as a sort of Hesperus of the free thought that dawned with the Reformation, as a brilliant and original thinker brutally suppressed and persecuted by an obscurantist monk and an ignorant body of bishops.

On the other, there are those who denounce him as an unprincipled and unscrupulous heretic, filled with his own conceit.

The truth appears to lie between the two extremes.

There can be 'no doubt at all of Abelard's brilliance and charm.

He certainly was a brilliant and original thinker.

But his character seems to have been marred by many

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

of the attributes of a precocious undergraduate, by a certain intellectual bumptiousness, and by a hot-headed intolerance for men older than himself, which alienated many who might have helped him.

Nor can there be any doubt that many of his tenets, if not all blatantly heretical, were at least extremely hazardous, conceivably safe in the hands of the master, but very apt to be misunderstood and wrongly explained by enthusiastic disciples.

On the other hand it is certain that he had no intention whatever of teaching heresy, and that his faults were largely on the surface, concealing a truly devout and religious spirit.

Even Otto of Freising, a Cistercian and Abbot of Morimond, remarks in this context that St. Bernard was apt to show a certain credulity in listening to reports unfavourable to those who seemed to rely too much on secular learning, and who founded themselves too exclusively on human reasoning.1

Yet there can be no doubt that the saint was justified in his attitude of suspicion to the novelties taught by Abelard.

The only question is whether in his abhorrence of intellectual pride and his anxiety for the faith of simple people, he chose the best possible way of dealing with the situation, and did not perhaps overstate his case against Abelard.

'I do not want to be a philosopher', wrote Abelard towards the close of his life,

'at the price of being rejected by Paul; nor yet an Aristotle at the price of being rejected by Christ, for there is no other name under heaven whereby I can be saved.

I adore Christ reigning at the Father's right hand.

With the arms of faith I embrace him working divinely in that glorious virginal flesh which he received of the Holy ccnete It would be a good thing indeed if all his modern apologists could say as much.

A testimony to Abelard and Héloise, quite remarkable considering its source, together with an appreciation of the protection afforded him by Peter the Venerable, is to be found in a rare book published at Paris in the year 1720 by Dom FrancoisArmand Gervaise, Abbot of La Trappe: La Vie de Pierre Abélard, abbé de saint Gildas de Ruis, ordre de saint Benoit, et celle d'Héloise, son epouse, premiére abbesse du Paraclet.

WILLIAM OF ST. THIERRY ON ABELARD

WruaM of St. Thierry warned the Abbot of Clairvaux and the Bishop of Chartres of the new and strange doctrines being taught by Peter Abelard (Benedictine Edition,

326).

"It is not a question of trivialities ', he says, ' but of belief in the Trinity, of the person of the Mediator, and of the mystery of our Redemption.'

And these new opinions of his are being broadcast far and wide, they have crossed the seas and have passed the Alps, reaching even Rome itself.

They are so often preached, and maintained with such impunity, that people suppose them to have the authority of the Roman Curia behind them.

He concludes by saying, 'God knows I love this man; but in a case like this no one is my relative, no one my friend'.

LETTER 236

TO WILLIAM OF ST. THIERRY

To his dear friend William, from Brother Bernard.

Ife my opinion your misgivings are well called-for and reasonable.

This is evident from your booklet in which you bruise and close 'the lips that mutter wickedness'.

Not that I have yet had the opportunity to read it with the attention you require, but, from what

I have been able to see by glancing through it, I like it very much and consider it well able to overthrow the iniquitous teaching.

As you 1 It is fair to say that Otto recanted this on his death bed.

TO THE ROMAN CURIA

well know, I am not in the habit of trusting much my judgement, especially in such grave matters as these, so I suggest that it would be worth our while to meet somewhere, as soon as we have an opportunity, and discuss the whole thing.

But I do not think this can be arranged before Easter, lest we are distracted from the prayer that is proper to this season of Lent.

I beg you, in the meantime, to suffer patiently my own patience and silence, for at present I know little or nothing at all of these matters.

Yet in answer to your prayers God can give me the power for what you are urging me to do.

Farewell.

LETTER 237

TO SUMMON TOGETHER THE BISHOPS OF THE ARCHDIOCESE OF SENS

AY, Vinee has gone out amongst many and I believe it to have reached your ears that I have been summoned to Sens on the octave of Pentecost and challenged to a fight in defence of the faith, although

'the servant of God must not wrangle but be mild towards all men'.

Even if it were only in defence of himself, your child might, perhaps not unreasonably, pride himself on your protection.

But now because it is your affair, nay, more yours than mine, I advise and earnestly beg you to prove yourselves friends in adversity.

I call you friends, not my friends, but Christ's friends; Christ whose bride calls out to you that she is being strangled in the forest of heresy and amongst the undergrowth of errors which are cropping up under your care and shelter. The friends of the Bridegroom will not desert the bride in time of peril, in the hour of tribulation.

Do not wonder that I have called upon you so suddenly and at such short notice, for it is a part of the cunning and shrewd design of our opponents to attack us while we are unprepared and to engage us in battle while we are unprotected.

LETTER 238

TO THE BISHOPS AND CARDINALS IN CURIA

To the lords and reverend fathers, the Bishops and Cardinals in Curia, from the child of their holiness. o one has any doubt that it belongs especially to you to remove

N scandals from the Kingdom of God, to cut back the growing thorns, to calm quarrels.

For this is what Moses commanded when he went up the mountain, saying:

' Wait here till we come back to you.

You have Aaron and Hur with you; to them refer all matters of dispute.'

I speak of that Moses who came through water, and 'not by water only, but by water and blood'.1_

And therefore he is 1' This is he that came by water and blood, Jesus Christ; not by water only but by water and blood'

(1 John 5.6).

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

greater than Moses because he came through blood.

And because by Aaron and Hur the zeal and authority of the Roman Church are signified, I do well to refer to her, not questions about the faith, but wounds to the faith, injuries to Christ, insults and dishonours to the Fathers, the scandals of the present generation and the dangers of those tocome.

The faith of the simple is being held up to scorn, the secrets of God are being reft open, the most sacred matters are being recklessly discussed, and the Fathers are being derided because they held that such matters are better allowed to rest! than solved.

Hence it comes about that, contrary to the law of God, the Paschal Lamb is either boiled or eaten raw, with bestial mouth and manners.

And what is left over is not burned with fire, but trodden under foot.2

So mere human ingenuity is taking on itself to solve everything, and leave nothing to faith.

It is trying for things above itself, prying into things too strong for it, rushing into divine things, and profaning rather than revealing what is holy. Things closed and sealed, it is not opening but tearing asunder, and what it is not able to force open, that it considers to be of no account and not worthy of belief.

2. Read, if you please, that book of Peter Abelard which he calls a book of Theology.

You have it to hand since, as he boasts, it is read eagerly by many in the Curia.

See what sort of things he says there about the Holy Trinity, about the generation of the Son, about the procession of the Holy Spirit, and much else that is very strange indeed to Catholic ears and minds.

Read that other book which they call the Book of Sentences,* and also the one entitled Know Thyself, and see how they too run riot with a whole crop of sacrileges and errors.

See what he thinks about the soul of Christ, about the person of Christ, about his descent into hell, about the Sacrament of the Altar, about the power of binding and loosing, about original sin, about the sins of human weakness, about the sins of ignorance, about sinful action, and about sinful intention.

And if you then consider that I am rightly disturbed, do you also bestir yourselves and, so as not to bestir yourselves in vain, act according to the position you hold, according to the dignity in which you are supreme, according to the power you have received, and let him who has scanned the heavens go down even into hell, and let the works of darkness that have braved the licht be shown up by the light, so that while he who sins in public is publicly

1... quod eas magis sopiendas, quam solvendas censuerint.

Eales, apparently understanding sopiendas as sapiendas translates: '. .

. because they held that such things are r > ath than solved '.

& er to be tasted .

. more et ore bestiali.

**No part must be eaten raw, or boiled, it mt be roasted over the fire icf ne sey ane nes e ue fire and burn it ' (Exodus 12.9). elard enied that he had ever written a book with this name and i i could not distinguish between Peter Lombard and himself.

But bend ene ee works of Peter Lombard, and also his Book of Sentences was not published when this letter Nie written.

Undoubtedly he is referring here to Abelard's book Sic et Non which starts:

' He begin sentences taken from the Holy Scriptures which seem opposed to each other

. ."

. whatever is

TO POPE INNOCENT II

rebuked, others, who speak evil in their hearts and write it in their books, may restrain themselves from putting darkness for light, and disputing on divine matters at the crossroads.

Thus shall the mouth that mutters wickedness be closed.

LETTER 239

TO POPE INNOCENT

To his most loving father and lord, Innocent, by the grace of God Supreme Pontiff, the entire devotion, for what it is worth, of Brother

Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux. lacs must be scandals; they are an unpleasant necessity.

Therefore the Prophet says, " Had I but wings as the dove has wings, to fly away and be at rest', and the Apostle desires to be dissolved and be with Christ, and Elias declares, 'I can bear no more, Lord; put an end to my life; I have no better right to live than my fathers'.

This I have in common with the saints, although it is a matter only of the will and not of merit, that I too wish to be taken out of it all, overcome, I admit, by " the fears that daunt me and the storm around me'.

But I fear that I should not be found so well prepared as I am well disposed.

I am weary of life; and I know not whether it would be well for me to die.

Perhaps for this reason I am removed even in my wish from the saints who were spurred on by their desire for better things, whereas I am constrained to go forth only to escape scandals and troubles.

In fine he says, 'It were better to be dissolved and be with Christ'.

Therefore in the saint the desire was uppermost, in me feeling.

But in this most miserable life he was not able to have the good he desired, nor I to be free of the anxieties which I suffer.

And so while we are both alike in our wish to go forth, we differ in our motives for wishing it.

2. Fool that I am, I was but now promising myself rest, when the madness of the lion had been quelled and peace restored to the Church.!

And now the Church is at peace, but not I. I did not realize I was in the vale of tears, I was forgetting that I was still in 'a land where all is forgotten ', I did not stop to consider that the earth on which I dwell brings forth thorns and troubles for me, and that, when they have been cut back, new ones will grow again, and other new ones after these, and so on without end.

I had heard this to be sure, but experience, I have now discovered, gives a better comprehension to the hearing.

Grief transcends and never ends for me,? my sorrows have increased because evils have gained strength; first the frost, then came the snow.

Who can endure this cold?

In it charity grows 1 A reference to Peter Leonis, the anti-Pope.

2 Innovatus est dolor, non exterminatus.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

cold so that iniquity abounds.

We have escaped the lion only to fall victims to the at who is, perhaps, more dangerous lurking in his lair than the lion raging in the open.

Although he is no longer lurking in his lair: would that his poisonous writings were still lurking in their shelves, and not being discussed at the crossroads!

His books have wings: and they who hate the light because their lives are evil, have dashed into the light thinking it was darkness.

Darkness is being brought into towns and castles in the place of light; and for honey poison or, I should say, poison in honey is being offered on all sides to everyone.

His writings 'have passed from country to country, and from one kingdom to another'.

A new gospel is being forged for peoples and for nations, a new faith is being propounded, and a new foundation is being laid besides that which has been laid.

Virtues and vices are being discussed immorally, the sacraments of the Church falsely, the mystery of the Holy Trinity neither simply nor soberly.

Everything is put perversely, everything quite differently, and beyond what we have been accustomed to hear.

3. Goliath advances tall of body, girt in the noble accoutrements of war, and preceded by his armour-bearer, Arnold of Brescia.1

Scale is joined to scale, and there is no breathing space between."

The bee that is in France® has murmured to the bee in Italy, and they have joined forces against the Lord and against his anointed, 'they have strung their bows, have arrows ready in the quiver, to shoot from their hiding places at unoffending hearts'.

In food and clothing they have all the appearances of piety, but they reject its virtue, and they deceive all the more people by transforming themselves into angels of light, whereas they are Satan. Therefore Goliath, standing between the two armies with his armour-bearer, cries out with a loud voice to the ranks of Israel, and taunts the forces of the saints, all the more audaciously for there being no David to defy him.

He insults the Doctors of the Church by holding up the philosophers for exaggerated praises.

He prefers their ideas and his own novelties to the doctrines and faith of the Catholic Fathers; and, when all have fled before him, he calls me out, the least of all, to single combat.

4. At his request the Archbishop of Sens wrote to me fixing the day of the meeting, on which Abelard, in his presence and in the presence of his brother bishops, should establish, if he could, his perverse doctrines, against which I have dared to croak.

I refused because I am but a child in this sort of warfare and he is a man habituated to it from his youth, and because I deemed it an unworthy action to bring the faith into the arena of controversy, resting as it does on sure and immutable truth.

I said that his writings were evidence enough against 1 A pupil of Abelard, heretic, and demagogue.

* Squama squame conjungitur, nec spiraculum incedit per eas.

Tales translates:

' Scale overlaps scale, and there is no point left unguarded '

3 The French bee is Abelard; the Italian, Arnold of Brescia.

Perhaps an allusion to Isaias 7.18.

TO POPE INNOCENT II

him, and that it was the business of the bishops to adjudicate on the doctrines of which they were the ministers, not mine.

But he lifted up his voice all the more for this, called upon many, and assembled all his accomplices.

I would rather not say what he wrote about me to his disciples.

He spread it about on all sides that he was going to answer me at Sens on the day appointed.

The word of it went forth to everyone, and I was not able to hide myself.

At first I did nothing, not greatly caring for what people were saying.

Yet, unwillingly and sorrowfully, I bowed to the advice of my friends, who saw how everyone was preparing as if for a show, and feared that my absence would serve only to increase the influence of the man and the scandal of the people, also it seemed that his errors might appear to be confirmed if there were no one to answer and refute them.

And so I went to Sens at the time appointed, unprepared, unprotected, except by those words which I had in my mind at the time: 'Take no thought how or what to speak: for it will be given you in that hour what to speak', and ' With the Lord to aid me, I have no fear of the worst that man can do'.

Besides the bishops and abbots, there were many religious men present, and also masters of the schools from the cities, and many educated clerics, the king too was there.

And so, in the presence of all, face to face with my adversary, I took certain headings from his books.

And when I began to read these, he refused to listen and walked out, and appealed from the judges he had chosen, which I do not think was permissible.

When these aforesaid headings from his books had been examined, they were found by the judgements of all to be contrary to the faith, to the truth.

I have written all this on my own behalf in case I should be thought to have shown levity or at least rashness in so grave a matter.

5. But you, successor of St. Peter, will judge whether this man who has attacked the faith of Peter should find a refuge in the see of Peter.

You, I say, the friend of the Bridegroom, will find a way of freeing the bride ' from treacherous lips, the perjured tongue'.

But, to speak a trifle more boldly to my lord, look also to yourself, most loving father, and the grace of God that is within you.

Did not God set you up over nations and kingdoms when you were yet small in your own eyes? And for what other purpose than that you should pull up and destroy, build and plant?

Consider, I beg you, how much he has done for you who took you from your father's house, and anointed you with the oil of his mercy; how much for his Church, by means of you; how many things in the field of the Lord, heaven and earth being witnesses, have been powerfully and wholesomely pulled up and destroyed; how many things have been well and truly built, planted, and propagated.

God has raised up crazy heretics in your time that by your hand they may be crushed.

I have seen a fool well rooted, and straightway his beauty was cursed. I have seen, I say, an impious

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

man lifted up and exalted like the cedars of Lebanon; and I passed by, and lo! he was not.

There must be heresies and schisms, that they also, who are approved, may be made manifest among you.! God has proved you and found you true.

But so that nothing should be lacking to your crown, heresies have now arisen.

For the perfection of your virtue, it now only remains for you not to be found to have done less than the great bishops, your predecessors.

Catch for us, most loving father, the foxes that are destroying the vine of the Lord, while they are yet young; lest, if they should grow and multiply, what was not done for their extermination by yourself, may be the despair of those that come after you.

Although now they are no longer so small or so few, but well grown and numerous, and only to be exterminated by your strong hand.

Jacinctus has borne us much ill-will, but he has not hurt us because he could not.

I thought I ought to bear patiently in my own person, what he has not spared either yourself or the Curia.

All this my Nicholas, who is yours too, can tell you better by word of mouth.

THE ERRORS OF ABELARD

Sr. Bernard wrote a long letter (Benedictine Edition, 190) on the errors of Abelard but, on account of its doctrinal importance and great length, it is included among the treatises of St. Bernard.

The Archbishop of Rheims, in a letter to Pope Innocent (Benedictine Edition, 191), begged the Holy Father to suppress the evil teaching of Abelard.

In much the same phraseology as St. Bernard he describes how many are being led astray by Abelard's false doctrines and hints at the fear that there may be some in the Curia itself who favour his errors.

He describes what happened at Sens, and ends by saying that the remedy now rests with the Pope.

LETTER 240

TO GUY OF CASTELLO

Guy was said to have been a disciple of Abelard.

In 1143 he became Pope as Celestine II.

To his venerable lord and most dear father, Master Guy, by the grace of God Cardinal Priest of the Holy Roman Church, that he may not swerve either to the right or to the left, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux. if would be to wrong you were I to believe that you would so love anyone as to love also his errors.

Whoever loves anyone thus, does not yet know how he ought to love him.

Such love is earthy, animal, diabolical, and harmful both to the lover and the loved.

Let other people think as they wish of others, I am still not able to think of you otherwise than as a man reasonable and just. Some people judge first and learn afterwards, but I do not judge a drink to be either "See Vincent of Lérins, Comustonitorinm, x.15.

TO CARDINAL Ivo .

sweet or bitter until I have tasted it. Master Peter has used in his books phrases that are novel and profane both in their wording and in their sense.

He argues about faith against the Faith; he assails the law in the words of the law.

He sees nothing ' through a glass, in a dark manner ', but views everything face to face ' dwelling on high matters, on marvels beyond his reach'.

It were better for him to know himself according to the title of his book, and not to exceed his limitations but to be wise according to sobriety.

I do not accuse him before the Father, there is that book of his, in which he takes such mistaken pleasure, to accuse him. When he speaks of the Trinity, he savours of Arius; when of grace, he savours of Pelagius; when of the person of Christ, he savours of Nestorius.

I do not question at all your judgement, in having for so long begged you not to prefer anyone to Christ, in the cause of Christ. But know this, that it is expedient for you to whom power has been given by the Lord, expedient for the Church of Christ, and expedient for the man himself, that silence should be imposed upon him because ' his mouth overflows with curses, and calumny, and deceit; his tongue is a store house of misery and shame'.

LETTER 241

TO CARDINAL IVO, ON THE SAME SUBJECT

To his dearest Ivo, by the grace of God Cardinal Priest of the Holy Roman Church, that he may love justice and hate iniquity, from Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

- ASTER Peter Abelard is a monk without a rule, a prelate without M responsibility.

He is neither in order nor of an Order.t_ A man at variance with himself: a Herod within, a John without; a most doubtful character, having nothing of the monk about him except the name and the habit.

But this is not my concern.

Let each one bear his own burdens.

There is another thing which I cannot overlook, a thing which concerns everyone who loves the name of Christ.

He speaks iniquity openly.

He corrupts the integrity of the faith and the chastity of the Church.

He oversteps the landmarks placed by our Fathers in discussing and writing about faith, the sacraments, and the Holy Trinity; he changes each thing according to his pleasure, adding to it or taking from it.

In his books and in his works he shows himself to be a fabricator of falsehood, a coiner of perverse dogmas, proving himself a heretic not so much by his error as by his obstinate defence of error. He is a man who does not know his limitations, making void the virtue of the cross by the cleverness of his words.

Nothing in heaven or on earth is hidden from him, except himself.

He was condemned at Soissons with his work before the legate of the Roman Church.

But as if this were not enough, he is again acting 1.

. nec ordinem tenet, nec temetur ab ordine.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

in such a way as to get himself again condemned, and how his last error is worse than his first.

Yet he feels himself to be quite safe, because he boasts that he has disciples amongst the cardinals and clerics in Curia and supposes that they, whose judgement and condemnation he ought to fear, will defend him in his past and present error.

If anyone has the Spirit of God, let him remember that verse:

'Lord, doI not hate the men who hate thee, am I not sick at heart over their rebellion?'

May God free his Church by means of you and your sons of ' the treacherous lips and perjured tongue '.

LETTER 242

TO POPE INNOCENT, ON THE SAME SUBJECT

To his most loving lord and father, Innocent, the humble duty of Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

'rz sure the bride of Christ weeps; there in the darkness her cheeks B are wet with tears, and of all that courted her there is not one left to console her.' While the Bridegroom delays the Sunamite has been entrusted to you in the land of her exile.

There is no one to whom she acknowledges more readily her wrongs, no one to whom she discloses more intimately her anxieties and her complaints than the friend of the Bridegroom. You love the Bridegroom and so you will not spurn his bride when she cries to you in her sorrow and trouble.

Amongst all the kinds of enemies by which the Church is hedged about, like a lily amongst thorns, there is none more dangerous, none more troublesome, than the sort who tears at her while he is being held to her bosom and fed at her breasts.

It is while she is suffering and sorrowing from such enemies that she utters these words:

'Friends and neighbours that meet me keep their distance now; old companions shun me.

I am assailed by enemies that grudge me life itself.'

There is no pest so noxious as an enemy in the guise of a friend.

Examples for us of this are the friendliness of Absolom and the kiss of Judas.

A new foundation is being laid besides that which has been laid. A new faith is being forged in France.

Virtues and vices are being discussed immorally, the sacraments falsely, and the mystery of the Holy Trinity neither soberly nor simply, but over and above what we have been taught.

Masters Peter and Arnold, the pest of which you rid Italy, have made common cause against the Lord and against his anointed.

Scale is joined to scale and there is no breathing space between.

Their lives are corrupt and hateful and by the leaven of their corruption they are corrupting the faith of simple people, upsetting moral values, defiling the purity of the Church.

After the manner and likeness of him who transforms himself into an angel of light, with the appearances of piety but without the virtue

TO CARDINAL STEPHEN, BISHOP OF PALESTRINA

of it, they are girt about like the temple that they may shoot from their hiding places at unoffending hearts. We have escaped the roaring of Peter the Lion who occupied the see of Simon Peter only to encounter Peter the Dragon who assails the faith of Simon Peter.

- The former openly persecuted the Church of God, like a lion going about and seeking whom it may devour; but the latter lurks like a dragon in hidden places that he may kill the innocent.

But thou, Lord God, will humble the proud with their haughty looks and tread under foot the lion and the dragon.

The former was harmful only so long as he was alive, death put an end to both his life and the harm he could do; but the latter by writing new dogmas has made provision for passing on his virus to future generations, for poisoning every generation that is to come.

In fine, to say a lot in a few words, our theologian lays down. with Arius that there are degrees and grades in the Trinity; with Pelagius he prefers free will to grace; and like Nestorius he divides Christ by excluding the human nature he assumed from association with the Trinity.

But in all this he boasts that he is held by all the cardinals and clerics in Curia to be a fountain-head of knowledge, that his books and sayings have found their way into the hands and hearts of the Romans, and he summons to protect his errors those very men by whom he ought to be judged and condemned.

What can this persecutor of the faith be thinking of, how can he have the effrontery to turn for protection to the Defender of the faith?

How can he face, how can he dare to set eyes on the friend of the Bridegroom? If only I were not kept by my care for the brethren, if only I were not hampered by the weakness of my body, how glad

I would be to see with my own eyes the friend of the Bridegroom defending, heart in hand, the bride in the absence of her spouse!

I can no more bear to see the Church suffering than I can ignore the injuries done to my lord the Pope.

Do not, most beloved father, withhold your help from her.

Already the charity of many is growing cold through the abundance of iniquity and, unless you hold out to her your hand, now, even now, the bride of Christ ' will wander abroad and follow with the shepherd's flocks, and feed her flocks beside the Shepherd's encampment '.1

LETTER 243

TO CARDINAL STEPHEN, BISHOP OF PALESTRINA

To his venerable lord and very dear father, Stephen, by the grace of God Bishop of Palestrina, that he may play the man and keep his courage high, from Brother Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

1. .

. egreditur et abiit post vestigia gregum, et pascit greges juxta tabernacula pastorum.

Evidently a quotation from the Canticle of Canticles 1.7:

. egredere, et abi post vestigia gregum, et pasce heedos tuos juxta tabernacula pastorum.

Eales translates: '. .

. I foresee the day when the Spouse of Christ will go forth and follow strange paths, and be led astray by false pastors

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

TELL you of the difficulties and sorrows of the bride of Christ all the more readily for knowing you to be the friend of the Bridegroom and very glad to hear his voice.

If I have rightly judged your dispositions, I am certain that you do not seek your own interests but those of Jesus Christ.

Peter Abelard proves by his life, by his behaviour, and by his books, which are now issuing from darkness into the light of day, that he is a persecutor of the Catholic Church, and an enemy of the cross of Christ.

Outwardly he appears a monk, but within he he is a heretic having nothing of the monk about him save the habit and name.

He opens up the old wells and the trodden-in pools of heretics, so that the ox and ass may fallin.

He had long been silent, but while he kept silence in Brittany he conceived sorrow, and now in France he has brought forth iniquity.

He has come out of his hole like a twisting snake, and like the hydra when one head is cut off he rows seven more in its place.

A single head was cut off, a single are of that man, at Soissons; but already seven greater ones have grown up in its place, an example of which I have sent to you.

Raw and inexperienced listeners hardly finished with their dialectics, and those who can hardly, so to speak, stand the first elements of the faith, are introduced by him to the mystery of the Holy Trinity, to the Holy of Holies, to the chamber of the King, and to him who is ' shrouded with darkness'.

In fine, our theologian has laid down degrees and grades in the Trinity like Arius, with Pelagius he puts free will before grace, and with Nestorius he divides Christ by excluding from association with the Trinity the human nature he assumed.

Thus he runs through almost all the sacraments, and ' boldly sweeps from world's end to world's end', ordering all things mischievously.

Besides this he boasts that he has infected the Roman Curia with the virus of his new ideas, that his books and sayings have found their way into the hands and hearts of the Romans, and he summons to protect his errors those very men by whom he ought to be judged and condemned.

May God care for his Church for which he died, so that he may behold it without spot or wrinkle, and so that perpetual silence should be imposed on that man, ' whose mouth overflows with curses, calumny, and deceit '.

LETTER 244

TO CARDINAL G.

To his venerable lord and beloved father G., Cardinal of the Holy Roman Church, a spirit prudent and strong, from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

1... libri jam de tenebris in lucem procedentes.

Eales translates:

'. .

. the books already published '.

TO GREGORY, CARDINAL DEACON

I CANNOT keep silent about the injuries done to Christ, the difficulties and sorrows of the Church, the misery of the needy, and the grievances of the poor.

We have fallen on dangerous times.

We have teachers with itching ears and. scholars who 'turn away their hearing from the truth, and are turned to fables'.

We have in France one Peter Abelard, a monk without a rule, a prelate without responsibility, an abbot without discipline, who argues with boys and consorts with women.

He puts 'stolen waters and hidden bread' before his household in his books, and in his discourses he introduces profane novelties of phrase and meaning.

He approaches the dark cloud which surrounds God, not alone as Moses did, but with a whole crowd of his disciples. Catholic Faith, the childbearing of the Virgin, the Sacrament of the Altar, the incomprehensible mystery of the Holy Trinity, are being discussed in the streets and market places. We have escaped the roaring of Peter the Lion, only to encounter the hissing of Peter the Dragon.

But thou, Lord Jesu, will humble the proud with their haughty looks, and tread under foot the Lion and the Dragon.

The former was only harmful so long as he lived, death put an end to both his life and the harm he could do.

But this one has already made provision for passing on his virus to posterity, for harming every generation that is to come.

He has put on record his leprous novelties with pen and ink. I have secured his books and sent them on to you.

Judge the author from his work.

See how our theologian like Arius makes grades and degrees in the Trinity, how with Pelagius he gives free will greater importance than grace, how with Nestorius he divides Christ by denying to the human nature he assumed the fellowship of the Trinity: but thisis by no meansall.

Is there no one amongst you who grieves for Christ, no one who loves righteousness and hates iniquity?

If this mouth that utters evil should not be stopped, let him Jook to it and judge who alone considers our troubles and sorrows.

CEPI ER 245

TO GREGORY, CARDINAL DEACON OF SS. SERGIUS AND BACCHUS

To his venerable friend Gregory, Cardinal Deacon of the title of SS.

Sergius and Bacchus, greetings and love, from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

CCORDING to your custom you ought always to rise for me whenA evcr I enter the Curia.

I may seem to be joking, but it is a serious matter.

Iam entering the Curia now, not in person but in the cause that is before it. Do you rise for me as you used to do, rise up now for my cause, or rather for the cause of Christ, because Christ is concerned in this cause and the truth is in danger.

Rise up then, rise to confront him who disputes about faith! against the faith, who 1 Surely here and passim in this context, it is ' faith' and not ' the faith' as Eales translates.

Abelard tried to define faith as an ' opinion '.

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

assails law in the words of the law, whose hand is against all, and against whom is every hand.

This is Peter Abelard who writes, teaches, argues and distinguishes as he likes concerning morals, sacraments, and even the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

He now enters the Curia after having disturbed and troubled the Church, not that he may heal the sorrow that he has caused her but so as * to cover sin with smooth names'.

If you are her son, defend the womb that bore you and the paps that gave you suck.

LETTER 246

TO GUY OF PISA

This is Guy Moricot de Vico, a native of Pisa, created cardinal by Innocent II.

To Guy of Pisa, a sound mind in a sound body, from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

ECAUSE of our mutual affection I would feel quite safe in trusting B a cause of mine to you.

And I now entrust to you this present cause all the more readily for the great love that we owe to him whose cause itis.

It is the cause of Christ, rather Christ himself is concerned in the cause, and the truth is in danger.

The garments of Christ are being divided, the sacraments of the Church torn to shreds.

But the tunic of Christ remains whole for it has no seam, having been woven all in one piece from the top.

The tunic of Christ is the unity of the Church which does not admit of being torn or divided.

What has thus been woven, what the Holy Spirit has thus unified, cannot be torn up by men.

Though they sharpen their tongues like serpents and draw their stings of ingenuity to disturb the peace of the Church, yet, because they are the gates of hell, they shall never prevail against her.

If you are indeed her son, if you recognize her as your mother, do not desert her in danger, do not withdraw your support from her in trouble.

Master Peter has entered the Curia so that he may have the authority of the Holy See as 'a wall and breast-work' to protect the errors he has written and taught, and with which he has assailed the Church.

LETTER 247

TO A CERTAIN CARDINAL PRIEST

To the Cardinal Priest .

, affectionate greetings from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux. ks no one despise your youth.

It is not a grey head that the Lord expects from you, but a mature mind; not weight of years, but a blameless life.

Although both Jeremias and Daniel were children

TO A CERTAIN ABBOT

yet they did not stand in awe of or fear the disgraceful old men, grown old with years ill spent.

I would have good reason for calling anyone disgraceful who soils the beauty of the Church, the purity of the Faith.

Such a one is Peter Abelard who argues and distinguishes just as he pleases and beyond what we have received about faith, sacraments, and the mystery of the Holy Trinity.

After disturbing the Church he now enters the Curia, not that he may heal her wounds, but because he has 'turned his heart towards thoughts of evil, to cover sin with smooth names'.

They will stand by the Church with confidence who know themselves to be the sons of the Church.

LETTER 248

TO A CERTAIN ABBOT

To his most dear brother and co-abbot, the zeal of God according to knowledge, from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

. lien must be heresies, that they who are approved may be made manifest amongst you.'

If anyone is of the Lord, let him now take his side.

For God is in this cause.

Truth is endangered.

The garments of Christ are being divided, the sacraments of the Church torn.

The good estate of the Church is being corrupted from the sole of the foot to the crown of the head, the simplicity of the faithful is being ridiculed.

The lion is on the point of arising from his lair to confront the Church and prey upon the nations.

Peter Abelard has gone before the face of Antichrist to prepare his way, holding forth on faith; the sacraments of the Church; on the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, over and above what we have received.

Like Arius he puts degrees and grades in the Trinity; like Pelagius he emphasizes free will at the cost of grace; he excludes from the fellowship of the Trinity the human nature assumed by Christ, thereby dividing Christ like Nestorius.

But in all this he boasts that he has reconciled to himself the Roman Church, and that his books and sayings have found their way into the hands and hearts of the Romans.

In defence of his errors he summons those very men by whom he ought to be judged and condemned.

Let God see to it and judge if the mouth that is muttering treachery be not speedily closed.

The bearer will explain the rest more fully.

ST. BERNARD AND ABELARD

In a letter to Pope Innocent from Henry, Archbishop of Sens; Geoffrey, Bishop of Chartres and Papal Legate; Elias, Bishop of Orleans; Hugo, Bishop of Auxerre;

Atto, Bishop of Troyes; and Manasses, Bishop of Meaux (Benedictine Edition, 337), their lordships, after saying that what has been settled by the Holy See is settled once and for all, and cannot be changed, describe how the teaching of Abelard has stirred all France, so that the highest and most sacred matters are openly discussed by all classes of people, and often quite wrongly.

They then give an account of how the

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

Abbot of Clairvaux had met Abelard privately and before witnesses to remonstrate with him, and of what happened at the Council of Sens.

They say that Abelard had got together all his disciples to support him at the Council, but that when the abbot confronted him he seemed at a loss, refused to say a word, and appealed to Rome.

They conclude by saying that his books seem to be full of errors and that if his Holiness should see fit to condemn them and impose silence on their author, the harmful results of his doctrine and teaching would be thereby eradicated.

Eventually Pope Innocent condemned the errors of Abelard (Benedictine Edition, 194).

LETTER 249

TO CARDINAL HAIMERIC

To his most intimate friend, the illustrious Haimeric, Cardinal and Chancellor of the Holy Roman Church, that he may show good things before God and man, from Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux.

' as we have heard so have we found' the books and maxims of Peter Abelard.

I have noted his words and marked his enigmas, and I have found them to be ' mysteries of iniquity'.

Our theologian assails law in the words of the law.

He casts what is holy before dogs, and pearls before swine.

He corrupts the faith of simple people and sullies the purity of the Church.

As the poet says: Quo semel est imbuta recens servabit odorem testa diu.1

His book has passed through fire, and he has now been brought into a place of repose." Now the enemy of the Church rests in the Church; the persecutor of the faith, in the bosom of the faith.

He has been wasted as water poured forth.

'Never may he thrive who has defiled his father's bed.'

He has defiled the Church; he has infected with his own blight the minds of simple people.

He tries to explore with his reason what the devout mind grasps at once with a vigorous faith.

Faith believes, it does not dispute.

But this man, apparently holding God suspect, will not believe anything until he has first examined it with his reason.

When the Prophet says, " Unless you believe, you shall not understand ', this man decries willing faith as levity, misusing that testimony of Solomon: 'He that is hasty to believe is light of head'.

Let him therefore blame the Blessed Virgin Mary for quickly believing the angel when he announced to her that she should conceive and bring forth a son.

Let him also blame him who, while on the verge of death, believed those words of One who was also dying:

' This day ** The jar will long preserve the odour of what it was once steeped in when new' (Hor.,

Ep. 1.11.68).

The cheaper unglazed jars sometimes used in those times absorbed what was first put into them when they were new.

* Transierat per ignem liber ejus, et inductus est in refrigerium.

An allusion to Transivimus per ignem et aquam, et eduxisti nos in refrigerium:

' Our way led through fire and water, but now thou hast brought us into a place of repose' (Ps. 65.12).

It seems that the first part of the sentence refers to Abelard's book which was publicly burned, and the second part to Abelard himself who had retired to Cluny, Eales however makes both parts refer to the book and translates:

* His book has passed through the fire, and was brought into a place of refreshment'.

It is easy Oe ee how a book can be burned, but not how it can be brought into a place of refreshment.

TO THE BISHOP OF CONSTANCE

thou shalt be with me in Paradise'.

And let him praise the hard hearts of those to whom it was said, ' O foolish and le of heart to believe in all things which the prophets have spoken ', and commend the slowness of him to whom it was said, ' And behold, thou shalt be dumb and shall not speak because thou hast not believed my words '.

2. So that this letter shall not be too long, I will only say a little about very much.

This most excellent doctor put degrees and grades in the Trinity like Arius; with Pelagius he prefers free will at the expense of grace, and with Nestorius he divides Christ by denying to the human nature he assumed association with the Trinity.

But in all this he boasts that he is a perfect fount of knowledge for the cardinals and clerics of the Curia; that his books and sayings have found their way into the hands and hearts of the Romans; and he summons to the protection of his errors the very men by whom he ought to be judged and condemned.

Jacinctus has shown me much ill will, but he has not done anything to hurt me because he could not.

This does not upset me, because he does not spare either the person of the Pope or the Curia.

My Nicholas, and yours too, can tell you better by word of mouth, all the rest which he has seen and heard.

LETTER 250

TO THE BISHOP OF CONSTANCE, CONCERNING ARNOLD OF BRESCIA

Arnold was born at Brescia in Italy and, after studying in France under Abelard, he received minor orders and returned to his native country.

As soon as he had got back to Italy he began to stir up trouble by denying the right of bishops, priests, and monks to hold any property and affirming that all property owned by the clergy belonged to the prince.

He also seems to have held heretical views on the Sacrament of the Altar and Infant Baptism.

Quick witted and eloquent he stirred up trouble and inflamed the passions of the baser sort of the populace wherever he went.

In 1138 he was condemned to silence and banished from Italy. But as soon as Innocent II died (1143) he returned to his country and troubled the reigns of all the popes of his time by inciting the turbulent Roman populace to rebuild the capitol and restore the republic, until he was finally caught by the English Pope Hadrian

IV in 1155 and condemned to death by the Emperor Barbarossa.

'Fr the good man of the house knew at what hour the thief would I come, he would surely watch and not suffer his house to be broken into."

Do you know that a thief has broken into your house during the night, not indeed your house but the Lord's house, yet entrusted to you?

Surely you do know what is happening amongst you, for the news of it has reached even me who lives such a great distance from you.

It is not to be wondered at that you were not able to foresee the hour or observe the nocturnal entry of the thief; but it will be surprising if you do not recognize him when he has been caught, if

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

you do not hold him fast, if you do not stop him from carrying off our vessels, even Christ's most precious possessions: the souls which i has marked with his image and redeemed with his blood.

Perhaps you are still perplexed and wondering to whom I can be referring.

I speak of Arnold of Brescia, a man whom I could wish was as praiseworthy for his doctrine as for his way of life.

If you want to know, he is a man who comes neither eating nor drinking, that he may sup alone with the devil on the blood of souls.

He is one of those whom the vigilant Apostle noted as having the appearances of virtue but denying the power thereof.

And the Lord himself also noted the same thing when he said: 'They come in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves'.

Up to the present wherever he has lived for any time he has left behind him such foul and fell tracks, that he dare not on any account return to where he has once set foot.

He has quite atrociously stirred up and troubled the land in which he was born. When accused before the lord Pope of a most wicked schism, he was expelled from his birthplace and forced to swear he would not return except by the Pope's permission.

For a like reason this notable schismatic was turned out of the kingdom of France.

Cast off by the Apostle Peter he promptly joined up with Peter Abelard, and with him and before him tried hard and stubbornly to defend his errors which had already been exposed and condemned by the Church.

2. His madness has not yet abated, his hand is yet stretched out.

For, although a fugitive and wanderer, he does not cease to do amongst strangers what he is no longer able to do amongst his own countrymen; like a raging lion he goes about seeking whom he may devour.

And now, I am told, he is working iniquity amongst you, and devouring your people like bread.

His mouth is full of cursing and bitterness, and his feet are swift to shed blood; destruction and sorrow are in his ways, and the way of peace he does not know.

He is an enemy of Christ's cross, a sower of discord, a fabricator of schism, a disturber of the peace, and a divider of unity.

His words are smooth as oil, but they are very weapons of destruction.

It is his habit to attract the rich and powerful by soft words and the pretence of virtue, according to those words: 'He will agree with the rich to lie in wait at dark corners, and kill the man who never wronged him'.

When he has obtained their good will and feels sure of their friendship, then you will see the man openly confront the clergy and, with the support of military power, rise up against the bishops themselves, and rage on all sides against the ecclesiastical order. Knowing this, I do not see what better or more wholesome thing you can do than to follow the advice of the Apostle and ' put away the evil one from amongst you', though the friend of the Bridegroom will see that he is imprisoned rather than put to flight, so that he should not be able to run around

TO CARDINAL GUY, LEGATE IN BOHEMIA

doing any more harm.

This is the command which our lord the Pope put into writing when he was with us, because of all the evil he had heard of him; but there was no one to do the good work. If we are warned by the Scriptures to catch the little foxes which spoil the vine, how much more is a great and fierce wolf to be bound fast so that he shall not break into the fold and slay and destroy the sheep.

LETTER 251

TO CARDINAL GUY, LEGATE IN BOHEMIA

News had reached Bernard that this cardinal was befriending Arnold.

It may have been under the influence of this same Guy that Arnold was able to return to Italy immediately after the death of Innocent in 1143, and there to create endless trouble. ir is reported that Arnold of Brescia is with you, the man whose life is as sweet as honey and whose doctrine is as bitter as poison, the man with the head of a dove and the tail of a scorpion, the man whom

Brescia has ejected, Rome rejected, and France repulsed; whom Germany abhors, and Italy will not receive.

Have a care, I implore you, that he does not extend his mischievous influence under the cover of your authority.

He has both the skill and the will to do it, and if your favour is added we shall have a triple cord such as is not easily broken; and the harm done will be, I fear, beyond measure.

There are only two alternatives for me, if it is true that you have this man with you: either I must believe that he is not at all known to you, or (what is more likely) that you have hopes of converting him.

It is much to be desired that you may succeed in this.

But who can fashion a son of Abraham from this stone?

What a welcome boon it would be for the Church to receive from your hands as a vessel of honour, one whom she has endured for so long as a vessel of dishonour.

You can try; but a prudent man will be careful not to exceed the limit laid down by the Apostle when he says:

' A man that is a heretic, after the first and second admonition, avoid; knowing that he, that is such an one, is subverted, and sinneth, being condemned by his own judgement'.

Otherwise to be friendly with him, to hold him often in conversation, not to say to entertain him, looks like favouring him, and is a powerful protection for any enemy. A friend of the Apostolic legate and member of his household will put forward with impunity what he likes, and will be readily believed whatever he says. Who would expect any wrong to come from the legate of the lord Pope?

And who would dare to oppose one who comes from you, even were he openly to say what is perverse?

2. Consider too what foul traces this man has left behind him wherever he has been.

It was not without reason that the strong

THE LETTERS OF ST. BERNARD

hand of the Apostolic See obliged him, a man born in Italy, to cross the Alps, and not to return home. Who is there amongst those with whom he is driven to take refuge who does not heartily wish him back again in his own country?

That he should make himself so odious to everyone is a clear justification of the penalty under which he lies, so that no one can say that this was inveigled from the Pope.

What possible excuse can there be for flouting the judgement of the Supreme Pontiff?

The actions, if not the tongue, of him against whoni it was proclaimed testifies to its rightness.

And so, to favour this man is to contradict the Pope and even the Lord God.

A just sentence justly delivered by anyone soever, certainly proceeds from him who says in the words of the Prophet: "I am one who speaks justice'.

I have every confidence in your prudence and uprightness and do not doubt that, when you have learned the truth of the matter from this letter, you will be firm and act in a way that is becoming to yourself and beneficial to the Church of God, on whose behalf you are discharging the office of legate.

You command my affection and may count upon my service.

LETTER: 352

TO POPE INNOCENT, ON BEHALF OF ARNULF, BISHOP-ELECT OF LISIEUX

Arnulf was Archdeacon of Séez when he was elected Bishop of Lisieux in the year 1141.

He appears to have been a learned man.

Peter the Venerable also wrote to the Pope on his behalf.

To his most loving father and lord, Innocent, by the grace of God Supreme Pontiff, the humble devotion of Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux.

Ro be God and the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ who has preserved free his Church, the bride of his beloved Son, and delivered her from the troubles and sorrows of evil things.

The schismatics are laid low, the heretics hold their peace, the necks of the proud and haughty are trodden under foot.

' Until yesterday, I saw the sinner in schism enthroned high as the cedars of Lebanon; then I passed by and he was there no more.'