ST Bernard - The Life & Times - Ratisbonne Translated 1918
ST Bernard - The Life & Times - Ratisbonne Translated 1918
ST Bernard - The Life & Times - Ratisbonne Translated 1918
BASIUS SEMINARY
TORONTO, CANADA
LIBRARY
GIFT
OF
Mf(
'^;
fuBRARVJ
t/'.
ST.
BERNARD
BY
M. L'ABBE RATISBONNE.
WITH PRBPACB, BY
H. E.
MANNING, D.D.
P. J.
vnavr
KENEDY
xork
amd
&D
SONS
PHnjAPamTrrA
T
if
is
the remark of a
modem
historian, that,
tiality,
we ought not
ideas
by our
acquainted with their institutions, their governments, and theu: principles of legislation.
It has been the custom of too
in
many
writers
modem
thnes, in
mstitutions,
and
also of
is
what
eondemn
all
that
never ques-
own
views, or considering
Roman Empire
IT
to consider aa
what they have been pleased to caH the can scarcely take up any history or modern work
on these
times, but he
will find its
and monks of those days, which, having passed cur* rent for centuries, are now looked upon as true, and some
of which are so absurd in themselves, that they carry with
them
their
own
refutation.
The
Roman
The
weak was
conquest was
their great
glory.
They
life,
Though the
Christian
feroit
was not
for it
untij after
many centuries
that
its results
were seen;
And
though
preserved their
ancient manners,
and
it
was not
war and
hunting,
which alone
state of society in
Europe
in the middle
life
of
of
the
from
their northern
tended to efface
shed faintly
of
on the horizon,
still,
and mists
and shed
its
was the
city set
upon the
hill,
all
their
bosoms a profound
;
and her
false
ministers
the seductive
of heresy and
infidelity
its
and
whose teachings tend to sap the foundations of social order and domestic happiness, had not yet raised their hydra heads;
for in those ages,
dark," God, His Church, and His ministers were everywhere respected. If, in times of disorder, the hand of the warrior was raised
calls
**
others, it arose
from the
Church, or for
divme formulas.
AH
seemed impressed
with the blessings which the Church, from the riches of her
treasury,
teries
In her monas-
Fl
times.
earefully preserved,
and copied by
fidelity
and
illustra^
it
tions,
which
modem
times
may
cannot excel
bound to reverence,
fol-
low
it.
his days,
this world's
honors and
triumphs, he was ready to renounce them all, in order that, by holy Uving, and in one continual round of never-ending
praise,
he might be
fitted
to
meet
his
God;
there, too,
him on the
and
thus,
from
him
to the
toils
service of
of
life,
God had
in
have
its
wants supplied by th
religious orders, or
by new
families of
observances
of
their
founders, which
length
observed with
days.
all
of
the foun-
fll
century
of
of the order of
the foundations of
in
the
the
twel^H
St.
century
Di
ci
Each
leame
influence
was
felt in all
parts of societ}
disorder, th
oi
and
It
anr
times are
now
line
of hia
God which
man come
forth
his cloister to
common
interests
No
and eloquent terms, as the Abb6 Cambaceres, panegyric on S. Louis, preached in 1168 :
in
"
sals,
To
calm
to turn against
thei?
lions,
who devoured
nu
country,
and thereby give peace to the people to engage arms against a distant enemy, so that they might not tm-n them against their king, and thus overturn the throne
;
their
To combat a
ferocious
pea
who hold
and had caused ravages in Spain, in Portugal, and Germany, and had ah-eady commenced them in France ;
Christianity,
had not
Europe against these rapid and the Crusades deUvered Asia and imparlr conquerors, by ed confidence to Europe, proclaims the justice of the Crusades.
Let
and imagine these holy wars to have been successful, as they might have been, how great would have been the result
I
nsr
kingdoms, where now the law of an impostor has established a code of morality which shocks humanity.
and
its
Europe, Asia, and Africa would have been one great people, the sea
free
from
pirates,
commerce
name wpuld be
many
and
In thus
infidel
we would no
longer say,
What
folly in these
II
Onisades;*
To
St.
Church of
St.
Andrea
delle Fratte, at
Rome.
it
It
is,
mdeed,
an holy prayer.
daily,
and we
"Remember,
it
has never
thee.
Encouraged by
1
this cortfi-
dence, I
unto thee,
Virgin of virgins
1
my
Mother,
despise not
my
worda,
PREFACE.
The
"
Life of St. Bernard,"
ita
by the Abb6
itd least
Ratii-
of France.
Among
excel-
and natural
is told,
Bernard was so eminently the saint of his age, that it would be impossible to write his life without
surrounding
it
wkich he
lived,
has, with
very ably and judiciously interwoven with the personal narrative and description of the saint
the chief contemporaneous events the time.
and characters of
There
is,
over the
men
siastical dignities
Kli
PREFACB.
own brethren
over the
priesthood^
and
pontiffs.
and sustained superiority of the individual over age were all contained within the four walls of
cell
;
his
in-
or,
more
God
will,
and made
inflexible
by union with
this
one
mind an inexhaustible abundance, variety, and versaWithout ever ceasing to be the holy tility of gifts.
and mortified
religious, St.
He
and
states-
man.
He
cities,
the nego-
tiations of princes,
and the contests of antipopes. And whence came this wondrous power of dealing
with
affairs
Not from
the training
and schooling of this world, but from the instincts, simplicity, and penetration of a mind profoundly immersed in God, and from a will of which the fervor and singleness of aim were supernatural.
laid,
PREFACE.
Xiii
ciety,
We can
cial functions,
nard invested with the ordinary routine of any offihow high soever they might be ; they
his
life,
and
when
retarded
and kept down by the mechanical forms and movement of modern systems, to lay open and to exhibit
what are the true sources of beneficent and
ling power.
control-
and contrivances of
and elevated by
in-
and above
all,
by
spiritual culture,
through
Holy
good in proportion as they are penetrated and governed by the mind of the mystical body, the one
true Church of God, Catholic
from
age
to
judges,
and
rules in the
name and by
Jesus Christ.
become, as individuals, perfect and powerful for good. In dying to themselves, they are raised again to anataer and vaster sphere of life. Out of the one
til
PREFACE.
and
succession or reproduction.
ple
is
A supernatural
and
princi-
their perpe-
tuity,
which
is
to
Church and the mysteries of the altar. Another reason, also, makes the publication of
Bernard's
life
St.
He
as
God
is
not a sentiment
may
or
may
;
not be en-
couraged by
we pay
to her
wo
ought, and not to love and venerate the Mother of God it is impossible to love the Son without loving
;
In proportion to our love to the Son in so will be our love to the Mother who bore Him
the Mother.
;
far as
we
we
the
Holy Ghost,
is
the
PREFACE
ZV
The
God
is
we
descends from
to
Him
to her
Him
be cold, dis
Him.
Him,
such, in
Now,
first
thousand years
more
fiill
of fervent, tender,
more conspicuous for ardent love and veneration for the Mother of God.
Bernard, and none
heart, kindled
God
to the Incarnate
Word
who, though infinitely below her Son, as the creature is below the uncreated, is, yet, immensely
above
she
is
all creatures,
human or
heavenly, inasmuch as
the
Mother of God.
Again, the name of St. Bernard has been so oftea invoked by the opponents of the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception, lately defined and declared by the voice of the Church, that it will not be amiss to
Btate
saint
on
this point
really was.
In the
epistle to the
XVi
PREFACE.
or, rather, misquotedon Bernard maintains as follows
:
BO often quoted*
ject, St.
tliis
sul>
1.
her whole
2. 3.
without sin,
original sin,
sin.
further proved That the doctrine rejected by St. Bernard is a doctrine rejected by the Church at this time viz., the
It
1.
may be
order of nature
ancestors, within
2.
range.
That the doctrine he taught, under the name of the Immaculate Nativity, is, in substance, the doctrine of the
^viz.,
Immaculate Conception, as now defined that the exemption of the Blessed Virgin from
original sin
privilege, be-
stowed upon her alone, not by the order of nature, not through the mediation ;
of the grace of the
Holy Ghost
first
moment of its
existence.
He
pro-
Benuirdi, opp.
Ep. clxxi.
PREFACE.
XYil
afterwards
"
made by
and
the
all
Church,
"I
reserve," he
says,
this point,
Roman Church
have advanced anything contrary to the decision which shall be made by it, I am ready to cor
and
if I
rect
my
opinion."*
hailed the authorita-
own
He would curacy of mental and verbal analysis have rejoiced with all the powers of his reason and
I
would have
definition of
commend
lowing pages, which cannot be read without a lively interest, or without deriving both consolation and
incentives to the love of God, from the spirit of sanctity
life
The present
translation,
made by
is
pure, easy, and simple English, which reads off, not A8 a translation, but with the facility of an originaL
HENRY E. MANNING.
* Hud at
supra.
CONTENTS.
Sixsi IJirtob
W)MESTIO LIFE OF
ST.
TEAUX.
(1091-1118.)
Chapter L
Birth of
First years of his St. Bernard Details regarding his Family^ .
Childhood17
Chafteb IL
Education of St Bernard
^Domestio
Manners of th
8S
Middle Age,
Chaftkr
HL
Bernard
taines
Death
finishes
his
Conversion,
GtaArnsB lY.
...
27
S7
Chaftkr Y.
Home Conversion
of Nivard,
41
Chaptxr VI
Origin of the Order of Citeauz Revelation conottming its future Destiny Arrival of St Bernard at th
Monastery,
XJ^
CONTENTS.
pfft
Stconi perioi
MONASTIC LIFE OF ST. BERNAAB, FROM HIS ENTRANCE INTO THE ORDER 'OF CITEAUX TO HIS POLITICAL LIFE, CONNECTED WITH THE SCHISM OF ROMR (1113-1180.)
Chapter VIL
Novitiate of
64
ObAFTSB VIIL
Deyelopment of Clairvaux
Narrative of William of
Illness of St.
Bernard76
St. Thierry,
i^AFTKa
IX
Mo General
^First
81
CHAPTEa X.
Another
Illness of
St Bernard
Vision
^Fruits of hia
Retirement,
M
the Car10ft
Cbapteb
XL
Labors of St Bernard
thusians
Ghaptsk XIL
Services rendered
beline
^Death of Gauldry,
Conversion
of
Hom-
.110
CteAPTBBXHL
Remarkable Conversions
Henry, Archbishop of Sens Stephen, Bishop of Paris ^Disputes of the last with King Louis Le Gros,
Chapter XIV.
Continuation of the Former
ess of Lorraine, of Beatrice, of
Itt
OOMTENTS.
ZZl
GHAFTnXV
William de St Thierry stay at Clairvauz
Council of Troyes,
relates
St.
^The Saint
called to the
184
Ohaptbb
XVL
Clairvauz
HI
9[|)irb
POLITICAL LIFE OF
Chapter
ST.
]Periob
(1180-1140.)
BERNARD.
XVIL
.
164
Chaptkr XVIII.
Contmuation of the Schism at
causes Innocent
II.
Rome
St
Bernard
princiv
to be recognized
pal Christian Powers ^The Antipope, Anacletus, founds the Kingdom of Sicily, .
by ihe
166
Chaftxb XIX.
Assassination of a
Monk
at
Pope Innocent IL
William
Council of Rheims,
lit
ChaptkbXX.
The Expedition
ciles the
of Lotharius to Italy
St Bernard
and recon-
181
Council of Pisa,
Ohaptbb XXI.
Labors of St Bernard in Milan-Miracles
of nis Soul,
, .
Effosions
.
308
ClUFTCRXXn.
Continoation of the
Abode
of
St Barnard
ja
Lonv
IXU
COOTENTS.
Pg
bardyFresh MiraclesDeath
Founder of
Norbert,
.
214
Chaptsr XXIIL
Return to Clairvaux
v^
St Bernard's Spirit of Prophecy He opposes the Abuse of Appeals He excites Lotharius to a new Expedition against the Schis-
matics
He
is
recalled to Italy,
22t
Chaptkb XXIV.
State of Affairs in Italy St Bernard at Rome ference at Salerno ^End of the Schism,
Con.
287
Chaptkb
XXV.
Rome
Return from
rard
Monasteries
^Funeral Oration,
XXVL
Death
to Clairvaux
Foundation of New
241
of
Chaptbr
Preponderance of the Papacy in Italy, Germany, and France Disputes of Louis VII. with the Count of Champagne Mediation of St Bernard Visit of
St Malachi,
3M
Jourtl) |)ertoIr
SCIENTIFIC LIFE OF
ST. BERNARD, FROM HIS DISPUTES WITH THE HERETICS TO THE PREACHING OF THE SECOND CRUSADK (1140-1145.)
Chaptkb XXVII.
Preliminary Considerations
the Middle Age,
Intellectual
Movement of
267
Chaptkb
XXVIIL
Peter Abelard
Misfortunes,
^View of
and
271
Chaptkb
XXIX
Contest of St
CONTEl^TS.
Xjdii
BrDard with Abelard Council of Sens ion and edifying Death of Abelard,
Conrer-
Ptff*
88t
ChaffxbXXX.
Application of the Doctrines of Bationalism to Politics ^Arnold of Brescia Bevolation at Borne, .
29t
ChaftsrXXXL
New
tion of Eugenius
UL^^Book
of the Consideration,
809
ChaptksXXXIL
Continuation of the preceding
314
Chaptkb XXXIII.
A Glance at the
826
JiftI) JPerioir
APOSTOLIC LIFE OF ST. BEBNABD, FBOM THE PBEACHING OF THE CBUSADE UNTIL HIS DEATH.
(1145-1168.)
Chapter
XXXIV.
State of
.
Christianity in
the
SM
Chaftbb
XXXY.
is
St Bernard
Difficulties of this
^Assembly
at Y6zelay,
84?
CHAFn
XXXVL
Germany
St.
His
Chaptkr
St,
861
XXXVIL
lo
Bernard goes
Germany
Emperor, Conrad
OiArEJCB
HL ^Extraordinary Manifestation
....
XXXVIIL
XET
CiUPTKB
CONTENTS
XXXIX.
Pafi
Assembly at Etampes Arrival of Pope Eugenius IIL in France Departure of the Crusaders for the Holy Land,
894
CHAPTiBRXL.
Heretics in Languedoo
He
404
History
CJhafteb
Council of Rheims,
two
illustrious Visitors at
.
ClairvauxTheir
XLL
Council of Treves
St Hildegarde History of this Prophetess Her Relations with St Sernard Glance at her Writings,
Chaptkr XLIL
Continuation of preceding Chapter,
.
411
426
Ohaptek XLIII.
Visit of
Pope Eugenius
Citeaux
486
Chapter XLIV.
Dbasters of the Crusade
Sorrows of St Bernard,
448
Chaptbr
XLV.
468
Apology of St Bernard,
Chaptbe
XLVL
Death of the most illustrious Contemporaries of St Bernard His last Illness ^His last Miracle,
468
Chapter XLVII.
Death of St Bernard,
471
4DVICE OF
Dn Faith, On Hope On Charity,
ST.
477
...
.
.
478 48 488
On
HISTORY OF
first
ST.
BERNARD.
P^riflb
CHAPTER L
DOMESTIC LIFE OF
(1091-1113.)
ST.
VftTH OF
ST.
BERNARDFIRST TEARS OF
i^?^
LESSED
watched
infancy has been over, kindled, penetrated by the eye
is
the
man whose
That glance has of a tender and holy mother. a magical power over the soul of the child ; it
beams
forth sweetness
and
firuits
life
sun's rays
mature the
sweeten them by the communication of its own substance, so does the mother deposit, in the
soul of the child, the sacred character of love.
St.
Bernard had
His pious mother^ Elizabeth, daughter of Count Bernard de Montbar, had been married m her
early youth to Tecelin,
Lord of Fontaines, near Dijon. without much difficulty. was not concluded marriage
Thii
Eliia*
18
HISTORY OP ST BERNARD.
fifteen,
and her
soul,
of whicb
dmm
grace had akeady taken possession, was wholly given to God ; she longed after the peace of a cloister, and was pre-
paring herself, under the direction of her virtuous father^ to embrace the austere rules of a monastic life. But Provi-
dence reserved her for another destiny. She was called, against her wiU, to become a wife and a mother, and to transmit the blessmgs which had crowned her from infancy to a
numerous
posterity.
Tecehn, her husband, was capable of appreciating her He was a noble character, and deeply reverenced her.
knight, of gentle manners, and fuU of the fear of
God
and,
although his important office kept him almost constantly close to the person of the Duke of Burgundy, he preserved
the dignity of the Christian life in the court as weU as in the camp, and distinguished himself on all occasions by his valor,
his uprightness,
and
his probity.
Divine Providence, which had decreed this union, made it happy and fruitful. Elizabeth gave bu1;h to six sons and
eldest, then Gerard, Bernard, Andre, Barthelemi, Nivard, and Hombeline.
one daughter
bom
in
lOtl, at
His bu*th had been the Castle of Fontaines, in Burgundy. a remarkable circumstance. Elizabeth, during preceded by
her pregnancy, had a dream which terrified her extremely j she dreamed that there was a white dog within her womb,
which barked incessantly. Ti-embling and disquieted," saya a contemporary historian, "Bernard's mother consulted a mao
filled
* '
of great sanctity, who, at the same moment, found himself with that spirit of prophecy which animated David
when, speaking of holy preachers, he said to God, "The tongue of Thy dogs shall bark agamst Thine enemies,* and
he replied unmediately : Fear nothing ; you shall be mother of ft child who, like a faithful dog, shall one day guard tht
'
HIS PARENTS.
II
the faith
house of the Lord, and bark loudly against the enemies of for he shall be an excellent preacher, and with his ;
shall heal the
healmg tongue he
wounds of many
souls.*"
thrill
man of God. She had offered her two sons to the Lord from the moment of their hiith but she consecrated Bernard to him in a more especial mai> ner ; and her ardent desire was to transmit to all her children
m her youth,
This Christian mother regarded her maternal duties as a charge intrusted to her by the divine goodness ; she considered her children as sacred deposits committed to her care,
and
was
responsible before
God.
Thus,
al-
though of a very delicate consitution, Elizabeth would never leave to a stranger the care of nursing her children. Bound
all love,
she
transmitted to them, with their mother^s mUk, the heavenly virtue which was her life.
He intrusted this charge with perfect confidence to the enlightened care of his wife, whose views he approved, though he did not fully comprehend their extent and elevation. Having been himself brought up
and joming, according to the spirit of that age, military habits with devotional exercises, he saw no impediment to forming all his sons for the career which
in the profession of arms,
little
purity of heart is exposed in the camp ; and she knew too well the blessedness of the religious life to desire any other
happiness for those whom she had brought forth and consecrated to God ; she educated her children for heaven, rathei
than for earth, and taught them early to discern good froai
0
evil,
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNABD.
all
who
For
love itself
the
things,
Hin
first
Beginning and
last
End
of man.
purpose she established the perfect order and salutary discipline of the evangelical law in the interior of her
this
house.
"I cannot
"how
lady sought to serve as an example and model to her children. In her household, in ner wedded estate, and
this illustrious
the midst of the world, she, in some sort, imitated the life of a solitary or religious, by her abstinences, by the simplicity of her dress, by her retirement from all the pomps and pleasures of the world.
possible
from
the perturbations of the secular state, persevering in fasting, in watching, and prayer, and making up, by works of
in
person bound by the marriage tie and living in the world." Such an example of life, joined to a conversation ever
serious, and, at the
same
an
indelible impression
from that
she sowed
own enjoyment
the seed of solid virtues deep in their hearts, without caring to cultivate the brUliant and superficial flowers so fascinating
to
in
ty,
young minds.
History teUs us that she exercised them the constant practice of self-denial and mutual char-
accustoming them gradually, by a discreet moderathe mortification of the senses and of the will
;
tion, to
so
among her
children.
it
The
that
is
was by aU
sweet and loving in a mother's heart, developed, at the same time, the extreme tenderness of heart, and the manly
and generous character which distinguished the sons of Tecelin. All displayed the noblest qualities as they advanced
SI
age
filial
conspicuously.
Bernard
heart,
especially, that
deliciously upon her words and her inspiring While yet very young he unfolded like a flower under the sunshme of his mother's eye he set himself, as far as hia
jooks.
;
had fed
age permitted, to live like his mother to pray like his mother he secretly imitated the things he saw her do gave
;
all
kinds of
little
services to his
little
;
and to
all
he spoke
watched himself
and he was
closely, to keep under his natural vivacity ; often seen to steal away to weep over his faults,
Bernard showed
from the
earliest age,
There was something bright and quick in the precocious intelligence which shone forth in his eye, and in the refined and
expressive features of his gracious countenance.
His open and smiling grace, His hair face and person.
his
was golden, his complexion very fair, and his figure slender ; outward appearance exactly resembled that of his noble
;
father
both of
his patience,
oflFered to
and
his delicacy of
woman
had long
but the holy chUd, having caught sight ; of some superstitious objects in her hand, sprang out of bed, and chased her out of his room with a cry of indignation,
because she had sought to cure him by the hateful arts of
magic.
Our Lord,
instantly left
it
and
visibly.
The pain
bed
foil
his
of
12
mSTOST OF
St.
BERNABD.
this
ampli
it
"During
happened that the young Bernard, seated in deep recollection before the commencement of the divine office, bowed his head
upon
his breast,
and
fell
asleep
in
if
him
a vision
just
^the
Incarnate
Word
bom agam
of His Yu'gin
Mother, and as the fairest of the children of men. This wonderful vision so ravished the first affections of the little
Bernard, that it lifted him above the state of childhood, and from this moment his mind was convinced, as he still beUeves and declares, that the hour at which he had this vision waa
the very hour of our Lord's birth.
and contemporary of St. Bernard, "those who have heard him preach cannot fail to recognize the number of graces and benedictions he received on that blessed night for, from
;
that day forth, he seemed to have had an ever-deepening knowledge of that mystery, and spoke of it with a fuller and
and the
httle
Bernard grew
in
age
CHAPTER
DUOATIOM OF
ST.
II.
At
of teaching greatly renowned on account of the new method The vrisdom irhich some learned scholastics had introduced.
of the world
name
given to the somewhat equivocal learning of the new masters. The reputation of this school had attracted a great Qumbi
HIS EDUCATIOll.
f 0cholars
He made
rapid progress
with ease and elegance ; cnltiyated poetry, and became eyei too passionately attached to literature. But, as he advanced
in his studies,
a frivolous subtlety.* Without being able to account for the feeling of fear which the rashness of some of the masters excited within him, he
tions treated with
possessed that quick and unerring tact, that mysterious sense of holiness and truth, which detects, at once, the slightest
deviation of the mind.
life
Bernard preserved throughout his the painful apprehensions which these early studies had It was not that he had no love for dialectics excited. ^he
devoted himself with great ardor to this art, and acquired therein a remarkable superiority over his fellow-disciples ^but
he shrank from applying it to the eternal principles of theology, and from subjecting mysteries, which must be believed
with the heart before the understanding can take cognizance of them, to a cold process of analysis ; in short, the faith
which had been watered and nourished by his mother's words, he felt to be too sacred a thing to be ventured in the lists of
human
tion of
disputation.
Holy
Scripture.
He
diwik
in, daily,
the nourishment
of his soul and the light of his understanding, from the Hving fountain of the divine Word. This exercise, which he never
discontinued, wonderfully enriched his
memory, while
it
gave
to his style that prophetic tone and that lofty sublimity which characterized his sermons and his writmgs.
From the beginning of the eleventh century public schools had been formed in several chnrches of France at Rheims, Poictiers, Hans, Aozerre, and other considerable towns. These schools wen
44
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Chatillon, his
brothen
upon
This must
trial
to Elizabeth
her heart there were presages, not to be mistaken by a mother, which softened her grief. She made no opposition
to her husband's will
;
yield,
m some
sort, te
the force of circumstances, in calling upon his sons to follow his own course ; in fact, a warlike enthusiasm, at that time,
pervaded Burgundy. This feudal provmce was governed by mighty dukes, descended from Hugh Capet ; one of whom
his daughter in marriage to the famous Alphonso, King of CastiUe and Leon.* Notwithstandmg the distance between the two countries, this alliance con-
Burgundian knights,
m search
who
of
The
Cid,
which Bernard was bom, had beheved, the same year filled the world with the fame of his valor ; and Alphonso
himself, the son-m-law of the
Duke
of Burgundy,
was
ac-
counted so accomplished a master in chivalry, that the noblest knights thought themselves happy to be his scholars.
But
spuit
besides these particular incentives to the chivalroua Burgundy, there were far graver motives which
The state excited not France only, but aU Europe to war. of things was so complicated at the opening of the twelfth
century, that the whole west
was
disturbed.
On
one
side,
power of the Normans, now become masters of of and England Sicily, piqued the jealousy of the his On of crown. feudatories and most of the France, great
the growing
Kmg
the other, the serious disputes between the Emperor of Germany and the Pope, on the subject of investitures, had divided
This marriage took place in 1078. Constance, wife of Alphonso was the daughter of Robert, the old Duke of Burgundy, the m
IV.,
f Hugh Capet
THX CBUSIDII.
S5
to
CJhristendom into two parties, each prepaied, at any moment, had come to such a point fly to arms ; and these contests
of bitter hostility that it was impossible to foresee then* issu Meanwhile, another event came in to supersede these weighty
questions,
society.
in all
ranks of
From
ing the west, with pressing letters from Pope Urban II., urging Christians to hasten to the rehef of Palestine. Since
that tune
nothmg had been heard of in Europe, but the wonderful exploits of the holy war. The French had reaped a rich harvest of glory Nice had fallen before them;
Antioch, the ancient and stately capital of the East, had been taken after a memorable siege, and the foundations of a new
empire had been laid there by a Norman prince. Last of all, Godfrey de Bouillon had won the holy city by the edge
and the crown of f the sword, on the 15th of July, 1099 Jerusalem had been unanimously bestowed on him.
;
ginning of the twelfth century ; we may imagine to what a pitch they must have excited the enthusiasm of its chivalry.
rapidly in all lands, by means of the troubahours, who, in our fathers' times, filled the ofl&ce now per-
castle to
chanting the deeds of the Christian heroes, to assembhes of noble knights and ladies; and their songs were
repeated by the mmstrels of the country, and acted by the mimics and jugglers. This was the ordinary amusement of
the long winter evenings ; for the Castillians took advantage of the necessary cessation of feudal warfare to make their
wmter quarters
in the
embattled castles
and
there, in hia
Tast hall, amidst his family and faithful vassals, the feudal lord, seated in his chair of state, gave audience to the trouba*
door,
and
lent
6
tian heroes,
msTOBT OF ar osuriBD.
and to lamentations over the
sufferings of ihM
Church.
It
and the
host of ephemeral objects whose very multiphcity diminishes their interest. Our fathers could be moved only by great
thmgs
and the
interest they
took
Every just
among them
zealous defenders, ready to combat to the death in the cause of right and honor. Thus did the sacred cause of the Cru-
There
is
we know
mider Godfrey's banner, had their bodily strength been equal to the vigor of then* souls ; but the two eldest were, at the time of the first Crusade, tit that mtermediate age which divides
still
child.
sons of Tecelin.
and they made an indelible impression on the The two eldest had no sooner attained the
sig-
quarrel of the
Duke
of Burgundy
furnished an opportunity. Guido and Gerard were called to the camp of then* liege lord. Writers, who were personally
acquainted with the family of St. Bernard, agree in their commendations of these two knights, and their young
brothers.
right,
"The
gift
words as well as
in his
teemed ;
his
Gerard, his younger brother, was deservedly esmanners were chaste and simple, and he had a
mmd.
As
to
St
same time, the lofty pillar of the Church. The S'Dul of Andrew, the fourth, was simple and honest fearing God, and flying evil. Bartholomew anticipated in his youth the
in all the
stainless life. Nivard, lastly, the youngest of all the children, already preferred the blessings of heayen to the goods of earth." Hombeline, who was younger than any of her
brothers,
girl
dis-
early tendency.
Guido, having now begun his career, took his place in the
world, and married a young and devout lady, distinguished both by her beauty and her illustrious birth.
CHAPTER
III.
BIBNARD FINISHES HIS STUDIES AND RETUBNS TO FONTAINXfrDSATH OF HIS MOTHERTEMPTATIONS AND CONVERSION.
of St. Bernard had very early come to maturity. extreme aptitude, jomed to great perseverance, he had By mastered the various sciences, both sacred and profane, which
his
The mmd
but, what is so rare, his too great ardor for study had not diminished his pious dispositions. Whilst his talents were powerfully developed, faith took
; ;
deeper root in his soul or, as he himself says, he tasted and long enjoyed the inward sweetness of a spiritual spring all
;
the seeds of grace with which his soul was filled, blossomed during this happy season of his life, and gave promise of the
There are great virtues which were afterwards seen in him. few men who have no recollection of that mysterious time when the yet virgin soul opens, and produces the first fiowef
18
df love.
HISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
rises
Happy when
This
is
its first
sweet perfume
toward!
God
saw
this
the tune of which the prophet speaks, the " time of the soul's adolescence And I passed by thee, and
I
At thee, and behold thy time was the time of lovers.^^ is a poet because he man is a he age every young poet
;
loves,
is
all
who
but poetry does not express herself in words alone ; she hves in the pensiveness of silence and of tears ; she kinlove
;
we gUmpse
dreams and
sighs.
We
it,
we mvoke
it, we seek it everywhere, amid the shadows and reflections of truth and beauty ; but our ideal is not upon earth ; and hence, that mixture of desu-e, and love, and sorrow, and hope,
in
blending into an undefinable feeling, which may be compared, some respects, to that pming of the exile for his native
land,
various stages of that poetical age. Alasl it is of short duration; for the flower must fall before the fruit can appear ; and between
which the Germans call Hdmweh. The young Bernard passed through the
the
fall
fal
a time of
of the flower and the maturity of the fruit there is, a long uncertam mtertoU,
Ber-
second period when he left Chatillon to return to his father^s house; he was then just nineteen,
nard was in
this
shining
genius
outwardly with all the brightness of youth and he felt no longer within him the transports of his
all
consolation,
and
its
;
no longer either light or heat the spring-time, with him, was past the shadows of night were around his soul, and the voice of the turtle was no longer heard therein.
;
Now
began
his trials.
21
by pietj and modesty (the two guardians assigned by grace and nature to that precious virtue), had suffered no assault ;
excited his senses, and strongly allured a heart
but the charms of the world, into which he had just entered, full of sun*
He happlicity, and but too open to outward impressions. pened one day, says his biographer, to cast his eyes upon a woman whose bewitching beauty had struck him. Bernard
experienced a
in terror
;
new
sensation
lest
awoke
he feared
at once, he
knew
the dart should be mortal, and fled not whither ; he ran on till he came to a
frozen pond, plunged boldly mto it, and stayed resolutely the water until he was drawn out half dead. An act of such
was followed by the happiest results; his triumphant acqmred fresh strength, and, from that moment, rose more and more above all sensual influences. Meanwhile, he was struck to the heart by a new aflflioresolution
virtue
tion
^the
end to
for
all
most poignant that can befall a son which put an his home happiness. His mother, like a fruit ripe
six
sur-
Heaven, was snatched away from hun, scarcely months after his return to Fontaines. Elizabeth was
rounded at that moment by all her family. Neither infirmities, nor length of years, had given any tokens of the approach of death ; on the contrary, still fresh and strong in health, both of soul and body, she devoted herself, more and " She more, to exercises of piety and unwearied charity. " was often seen," says an ancient author, alone, and on foot,
on the road from Fontaines and Dijon, entering the houses of the poor, visitmg the sick, distributmg food and medicine,
carrying aU kinds of succor and consolation to the afflicted ; and what was most admirable in her beneficence was, that
she so practised it as to preserve the utmost possible concealment ; she did all her good works person, without the assistance of her servants ; and of her it might be said with
80
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD.
was
In the midst of these holy exercises, the saintly Elizabeti The circumcalled, almost suddenly, out of this world.
Btances of her death were so touching that
we cannot refram
it,
who was
(the patron of the Church of Fontaines) with great magnificence ; and on this occasion she always gave a solemn God was pleased banquet, to which the clergy were bidden. to reward the particular devotion of this holy woman to the
glorious St.
his feast
;
Ambrose
and, in truth,
Ambrose, by a revelation that she should die on it was no marvel to see so devout a
gift of prophecy.
Christian
She
there-
assembled household, with the most perfect tranquillity and confidence, that the hour of her death was at hand. They
were
all
but they soon found there was great cause for anxiety.
On
the vigil of St. Ambrose, Elizabeth was attacked by a violent fever, which obliged her to keep her bed ; on the morning
of the feast, she humbly desu'ed that the body of our Lord
might be brought to her; and, after receiving this holy Yiaticum, together with extreme unction, she felt herself
Btrengthened, and insisted that the ecclesiastics who had been invited should sit down to the banquet she had prepared for them. Now, while they were at table, Ehzabeth sent for
Guido, her eldest son, and commanded him, as soon as the the clergy repast should be over, to bring into her room all who were present. Guido piously obeyed his beloved
mother^s desire.
bed!
Behold them all, then, assembled round her Then the servant of God declared, with a serene countenance, that the moment of her dissolution was come.
clerks fell to prayer, they
The
mtoned the
htanies.
Ehza
31
but, at the
words of the
litanies
Per passionem
moment when
the choir
et
came to thos
hand
to
make
that
she rendered up her holy soul, which the angels There received, and carried to the abodes of the blessed. does she await, peace and rest, the awakening of her body
on the great day of the resurrection, when our judge and advocate, Jesus Christ, shall come to judge the living and the
dead, and to
bum
up
this
world with
fire.
;
body her right hand remained uplifted in the same position to which she had raised it to make the sign of the cross, a thing which aston*
holy soul leave the sacred temple of its
ished
all
who were
St.
present."
mother of
Bernard
O
all
mother seven-fold
blessed,
deign, I beseech you, to guide the pen which ventures to write the history of your son ; that the example of his virtue,
his
sanctity,
may
Alas I we poorly in these latter days. can scarce believe the wonders of old time, so rare have they become since charity has waxed so cold upon this earth I I
live so
who
your Bernard
false
live
again
and
the writer.
be vamglory and self-seeking, and the Let his words be true and eloquence.
rative faithful
simple,
and exact
it,
"
was an occasion of heavy grief and ; to the of Jesus Christ ^the widows and orphans mourning poor to whom she had been a mother " Bernard, above all but
it
but on earth
now
so
happy
to be once
more with
IS
an absence
HI8T0BY OF
ST.
BEBNABD.
Bernard remained
stroke.
still
like
and unforeseen a
and
ness,
He
was attached
more strongly than by those of nature was of filial piety and tender
all
that gave
it
joy,
and
lif^
his affliction,
thought of consolation even in his lively faith, and the eternal He was now about twenty, the age at promises of God. which the son is just beginning to understand the value of a
mother
but
the young
man
rationally, conscientiously
joining a peculiar
Bernard, though surrounded by his brothers, his sister, hia aged father, felt alone in the world ; his support was gone,
his consolation
was no longer here below, he saw his mother ^he seemed in some sort
But
his weariness
and sorrow were made still heavier by by the dryness of his devotions, the coldwhich seemed frozen within him. In this
which seems to be the inevitable portion of souls destined to high sanctity, Bernard was to endure all
the trials of the purgative way ; for thus, as Holy Scripture teaches, does the Lord try his servants, as silver is tried in " the fire, and gold in the crucible. son," says the Book
" when thou comest to the service of God, stand in justice and in fear, and prepare thy soul for tempta
of Ecclesiasticus,
tion."*
My
Bernard had to struggle agamst three kinds of temptation, which fasten successively upon the body, the mind, and th soul ^by the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, and
the pride of
life.
lSocIe.ii.1.
TEMPTATIONS.
33
violent, aa
The
first
of these temptations
Bernard had conquered it on a former occasion but the old and cunning serpent awaited the most critical moment to
surprise Bernard's youth,
and make a
decisive assault.
As
we have akeady
beauty
;
his
Bernard possessed remarkable personal figure was perfectly proportioned, his manners
said,
fire,
his countenance
Bweet and gracious ; his gait, his movements, his attitudes, all were modest, simple, and noble; his words were his smile
There was naturally elegant, impressive, and persuasive. and so his so amiable in whole attractive, something person
that, according to the expression of one of his biographers, he
We
may conceive the numberless perils which must have surrounded such a young man, especially when we consider that
his heart
love.
He
waa
fearfully tried.
But divine grace, which assists the humble and strengthens the warrior of Christ, covered Bernard with a shield, which
made him
sensuality.
and, seeing of learning, he tried to captivate his mind eyes. Imprudent friends (his brothers
demon of Then did the tempter take a more subtle form, that Bernard's weak side was an excessive love
by the
desu*e of the
among
the rest), in
order to relieve his melancholy, persuaded him to address himself to curious and occult sciences ; and they represented to him so forcibly the mterest which belongs to this kind of
study, that Bernard, naturally inclined to intellectual inquiry, at first saw no objection to what they advised ; but the voice
of conscience soon warned him of the danger. He saw that the pursuit of science, without any practical end, or any other
result
curiosity, is
unworthy of a
Christian.
we
re citing his
own words),
'
84
HISTORY OF
ST,
BERNARD.
curiosity
is
and tMs
ridiculoni;
and
thii
vanity
is
blamable
others wish to
leam only to
traffic
with
is
their learning,
and
It
When,
then,
good, says the prophet, when it is put in practice ;* and he is guilty, adds the apostle, who, having a knowledge of the good which he should do, does it not."f
learning
good
These truly Christian considerations counterbalanced the specious suggestions of those around him.
Still it
Bocial position,
in fact,
became necessary to adopt some way of Ufe, some some sphere of activity it became necessary, to choose between God and the world. In this alter:
and
mind to make a
and
he
and
this time
His family influence and his father's personal serhim rapid advancement and high distmction in
;
military service
on the other hand, his flexible genius and him to the Court, where he had
every chance of a briUiant fortune. habits fitted him for the legislature
and
way to the
highest
But Bernard
own passionate desires after his will and win his consent bend could things, WTienever the world smiled on hun, the memory of his mother
him to the
reality of life
;
and
all his
schemes seined
* Paalm oz.
t Jmum It. U.
HIS CONVERSION.
fco
85
him
this con-
How
;
much more
I
torturing this
all
bodily suffering
Amid
cified
sides, is freed
self,
from
all iti
its
its
very
emptied of
very
appetites,
Not till then can it to all that belongs to it. say with her, who will ever be the model of all perfection, Ecce ancilla, Domini, fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum. Then,
vase
is
when the
makes
it
Spu-it
fills it,
and
But who
Tom
asunder by
his his
two contrary forces, both at once urging and solicitmg will, Bernard raised his eyes to heaven, and then met
mother^s eye, which restored hun to calmness, and, at the same tune, aroused his conscience. " She seemed to him to
it
was not
had brought Mm up with such tender anxiety; that she had had far other hopes for hun while traming hun with so much care."
One day, while on his way to visit his brothers, who were with the Duke of Burgundy, at the siege of the Castle of
Grancey, as he rode along, silently and in deep thought, the world with its perturbations and perpetual vicissitudes seemed
to pass before hun as a vam show, and suddenly a voice founded in the depths of his heart "Com^ to me aM you, that
]abor
yoke these words a heavenly longing took possession of Bernard's He heart, and thrilled to the very marrow of his bones.
and are heavy laden, and I wiU refresh you ; take my upon you, and you shall find rest to yowr soulsj^ At
it,
86
mSTOBT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
tears, raising his eye ii hii
many
Lord
At
that mo
fell
upon
his soul,
the breath of
God
lamp of his spiritual life, and Bernard, all on with love, consecrated himself for ever to God, and joytook upon him the yoke of
fully
Sle
Him who
is
of heart.*
Many
Most
relate
and to
"
am
not ashamed to
my
;
that frequently, and especially at the conversion, I have experienced great hard-
desired to love
I sought Him whom my soul Him upon whom my frozen heart might rest,
;
which bound
my
became more and more languid, weak, and knumbed, giving way to grief, and almost to despair, and murmuring inwardly, Who can endure such cold.'f Then
my
soul
'
gou
all
some
spiritual per-
or or, perhaps, at the mere remembrance of the dead thes to breathe of the God absent tne upon began Spirit frozen waters, they flowed again, and my tears served me for
28, S
Tuha obItU.
mS
ZEAL AND
ITS FRUITS.
SI
CHAPTER
OONTIBSION Of
ST.
IV.
FRISNDflL
on the
it
earth,'^ said
Jesus Christ
and what
will
I but that
fire
be kmdled ?"*
it purifies
rWhen
it
that diyine
it
and
/
transfigures
by a process
wood,
it
When
it
lays hold of
;
first it
dries
it,
and blackens
with
dense smoke
stance,
then
penetrates
consuming
;
all
meets with
lastly, it
the gross and heterogeneous matter it kindles, transforms, glorifies it, till the
fire,
wood
itself is
changed into
and partakes of
all
its
quahties.
like
light to all
His
Church^
instrument
;
not slow
becommg an
and
the ever-increasing power which Bernard was called on to which he hved was manifested from exercise over the age
the
first
moment
in
which
his heart
was devoted
to
God.
person words, wrought upon tx) leave the vanities of the world, was his uncle, the vaUant Gauldry, Count de Trouillon. This nobleman had a high mihtary command ; he was very rich,
The
first
whom
his example,
and yet more distinguished for his valor than for his hbeAt Bemard^s call he quitted the world, attached rahty. himself to his nephew as t a father, and continued till h*
death among the number of his most zealous followers. After this remarkable conversion, the zeal of Bemara
As
the
fire
which consomes a
38
forest,
and aged
as
it
spreads from tree to tree, lighting up young saplingi trees without distinction, and becoming more intense
fastens
so
Bernard's burning
charity kindled brothers, kinsmen, friends, and wrapt young and old, husbands and wives, children and parents, one
holy flame.
He
of
first to be touched by his brother's was on the point of entering the service
;
of the
Duke
Burgundy
enroll himself
among the
soldiers of Jesus
Andrew, who, as well as Bartholomew, was younger than Bernard, had just received the honor of knighthood, and as he looked forward hopefully to a brilliant career, he
heard his brothers words with reluctance, rejected his advice, avoided his presence, was even irritated at his urgency ; but,
one day, as Bernard was about to renew his endeavors, Andrew exclaimed, in a tone of emotion, " I have seen my mother I" " In fact," adds the historian, "she had appeared
to him visibly, and testified resolution of her children.
even to tears, threw himself on his brother's neck, and, instead of a soldier of this world, became a soldier of Jesns
Christ.''
Guido, the eldest of the family, was he held a high place in society, and fulfilled the duties of his state of life as a Christian should do ; but the
married
;
facility
such painful
some previous engagement j-obliged Guido and the other members of that holy family to consecrate them
may
be,
elves
entirely to
God,
Be
this
as
it
89
by the
and he promis
re-
But the quired by the laws of the Church, consent to it. attainment of this consent from a young and tenderly-loving
wife and mother seemed almost impossible.
ever, to
Bernard, howa clearer light was granted, assured him that she would either consent, or that she would be taken from
whom
him by death.
woman
which her loving woman's heart suggested, to shake Guide's vocation and his upright and generous character could
;
overwhelm the
with such intolerable anguish. The perplexity of so dreadful a trial is more easily conceived than described. The struggle was violent, but it did not
mother of
his children
last
a miracle of grace ended it. Quido's wife sent she wished to see huu, to open her heart to him. He came, and found her ill, and suffering under a stranga The voice which had first spoken to her anxiety of mind.
long
;
for
Bernard
husband's heart
is
now
thrilling
through hers.
She
desires,
calls
God
of love,
who
Guido and Bernard, she her and vows, receives, at the same moment, pronounces health of body and peace of mind. The husband and wife made no delay in carrying their holy resolution into effect ;
in the presence of
and, having
rated.
made
all
disciple,* faithful
companion,
per-
ns, their wives, who entered into their views, retired into a Benedio tine convent, near Dijon, the same to which Hombeline, St. Bemard'f
sister,
afterwards went.
40
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNIBIX.
and inseparable friend. But his wife entered the convent of Juilly, where she persevered in a course of most austere
piety,
reli-
gious
women.
at
Guidons younger brother, Gerard, showed deep displeasure what had passed in his family. He judged Bernard's zeal
by the
rules of human prudence, and severely condemned the facility with which his brothers had contracted such serious engagements. This disposition of his brother greatly
distressed Bernard,
but did not prevent him from going to camp at Grancey, where he now was, at the
glory and honor.
of
chronicler,
"was an
dence, and highly valued and esteemed by all He received his brother coldly, repelled him
objections of worldly wisdom,
and hardened
charity, with a kind of supernatural energy, placed his hand " on his brother's side, and said, a prophetic tone, I know, yes, I know well, that nothing but adversity will open thy
mind to the
speedily,
truth.
when
this spot
Well, the day will come, and that which I touch will be pierced by a
lance,
which will thus open a way for the enhance of those words mto thy heart, from which thou now tumest away in
disdam."
Gerard declared afterwards, that at the moment his brother spoke these words, he felt as if a dart was already
piercing his side
;
this prediction,
a*.
the siege of the castle of Grancey, he was, in fact, wounded the very part to which Bernard had pointed. by a lance,
and Gerard, stretched upon th* ; of battle, fell into the hands of the enemy, who carried him off to their camp, and kept him prisoner. In this sad
fsondition, fall
of
^nilety
HIS ZEAL
AND
ITS FBUIT3.
41
fife,
came
this
"
message
onto death, bnt unto life.^ The event justified these words.
lously
from
his close
Gerard escaped miracn. imprisonment ; and, being freed from care was to break the bonds which held
his higher calling,
and consecrate
work of God.
no
settled plan as to the
religious life
had
still
kmd
of
life
he should embrace.
The
was the
the accomplishment of the ; and the determination of the order they were to emdesign, One day, when brace, to the care of Divine Providence.
but they
left
all together into a church, full of desires to the will of God, they heard this text read from tht Epistles of St. Paul : "He who hath begun a good work
know
in
you will perfect it unto the day of Jesus Christ."* Bernard was struck by these words as by a voice from heaven ;
and,
all
full
those
of hope, he assembled his friends and kindred, and who were dear to him, to re-animate theu* devotion
light and grace which could resist his enerpeople getic representations, his persuasive words, the force of his example. To some he showed the deplorable delusion of a
inundated his
own
soul.
Few
life
exhaustible sweetness of the religious fife ; to all, the necesiity that every man, and, above aU, every Christian should
consider seriously the true end of his being, and walk cour-
ful soul.
ageously and right onward towards it, and not exchange fof a few passmg pleasures the eternal joys laid up for the faith" "
The
zeal
which
inspires
it
PhilipLI,
42
HISTORY OF
ST.
B2RNARD.
labor together at the work of our salvation Nobihty of birth, dignity of presence, grace of person, youth, lands, palaces, high honors, the
is
of the world.
They
ment,
is
world
^m
a moLife
short, the world passes away, and you will pass away before it. not cease to love what will soon cease to ex-
wrote to one of his friends, whom " he was pressing to jom him, come, without any farther delay, and attach yourself to a man who loves you with a
ist ?"
Death
will
God
has united.
body, and will subsist independently of both. What do I Bay ? It will seem sweeter still when the body shall be destroyed,
when time
is
for
you
shall
be no more.
What
com-
parison
world
there between this happiness and the goods of this The greatest good is that which can never be taken
is it ?
from
us,
and what
it,
seen
it,
the ear
it,
the heart of
man hath
its
not understood
of
God
it
*
unto
us.
Ye my
are
my
things
On
who wavered
in his resolutions
you wonder that you are ever floa^ set your between and evil, when you have never yet ing good foot on the sohd rock ? Once make a firm resolution to take
"Do
Christ,
if
Oh,
mean
Thou
alone,
my
tho who
love Thee.
BIB ZEAL
AND
the,
ITS FRUITS.
'
,
4t
come to me
Zd
him that
tMrstetk,^ says
Saviour
all
amd
drinJc.
Come
to
me
an
Can you fear to heavy laden, and I will refresh you!^ want strength when the Truth Himself promises to support you ? Oh, if I had the happmess to have you as a fellowdisciple in the school of Jesus Christ, if I could
pour
into
your purified soul that unction which teaches all truth, with
what
the
zeal
fire
of love
would I break to you that bread all burning with that spiritual bread which Jesus Christ ever
breaks with such profuse liberality to the poor of the GosHow joyfully would I shed over you some drops of pel that celestial dew which the goodness of God reserves for His
I
children,
in turn to
pour over
I can scarcely leave off, so many things have I to say. I pray God to give you the knowledge of His law and of His
I
me
will."
The mfluence which Bernard exercised by means of his and his burning words was so effectual, so irresistible, that he was soon surrounded by a company of young men, who not only changed then: way of life, but bound themselves to him to follow the holy path which God had traced out for
letters
him.
Among
these noble-hearted
men
there
f ersion was too remarkable not to be specially recorded. young nobleman, named Hugh, of the illustrious house of
early friend
timent,
a happy sympathy in thought, taste, and senhad bound them closely to each other, and theu* souls,
;
ever in harmony together, vibrated in unison like two strings of the same lyre. But when Hugh heard of Bema^d^s change
he was cut to the heart, and he wept as if he had for ever Both the lost him, who was, he heard, dead to the world.
friends
Hugh hoped
44
HISTOBT or
ST.
BEBNARDu
this world ; Bernard to gain his friend's soul to God Aji opportunity of meeting occurred ; both were deeply moved, and they embraced with many tears. It was some time be-
they had exchanged many words, Hugh's soul melted into Bernard's, and, pressing him to his heart, he protested that
he would
live
henceforth to
God
alone,
be ever united
in Jesus Christ.
Soon afterwards, however, Hugh's resolutions and his spuit of devotion began to grow faint, owing to the constant Bernard heard of it, he opposition of his worldly friends. a lovely garden, the centre flew to Magon, found Hugh
of a group of young cavaliers ; a heavy rain had forced them to take shelter under a tree. Bernard approached his friend,
and forced him to come with him notwithstanding the storm. *' " Hugh," said he, you must brave this storm with me." As oon as they were alone, calmness returned both to the sky and
Hugh, and from that time no human effort could "This happy change thus wrought by God aame Hugh," adds a contemporary biographer, " afterwards became Abbot of Pontigny and Bishop of Auxerre a church
4)
the soul of
disturb the
which he
still
rules in such a
the merit as well as the dignity of the episcopate." It was a thing unheard of and unexampled in those
like times,
wa^
and, above all, m joyous Burgjmdy, for a number of young cavahers to renounce the pleasures of their age, the glory of their name, and all worldly advantages, to embrace
Bernard himself the austerity and poverty of Jesus Christ. was astonished at it, and filled with intense joy, which he expresses admirably in one of his letters.
"
com-
"
panions,
edifies
and earth
it
thrill
is
rejoices the whole church. with joy, and the faithful bless the
and
That joy
he
nS
ZEIL AND
ITS FRUITa.
Ten has poured down more abundantly in onr days, and of that free blessing which God reserves for his inheritance.
Tte
in too
many
others,
who
and
whom
thrill
penitence.
gle sinner,
how must
sinners
;
they
f so
whose example is most powerful and contagious, inasmuch as they are in th ^ower of then* age, and distinguished in the world by their Du-th and talents. I had read m the Sacred Scriptures that
many
and of
sinners, too,
among
those
by a miraculous grace, I behold a thing altogether contrary, I see a great multitude who despise the glory of the world, and
retrample on the delights of youth and the pride of birth wisdom the of this world as are foolishness, they garding
;
^sensible
kindred,
ftiey
to
flesh
their
may
What
to praise
But God
and
I regarded these glorious deeds as yours I alone has changed your hearts, and wrought these
you
if
marvels in you.
It
is
lights, it is just
all the glory should ascend to Him." France, long groanmg under extreme misery, received great consolation from these triumphs of the the riches silently Bpirit of God ; but she dreamed not yet of
that
in
The Church
preparing for her, nor of the innumerable fruits of salvation which that new tree should one day bear, whose lovely seed
m secret.
It
was thus of
old,
when
all
the people of the earth were given over to a frightful idolatry, that twelve Jewish fishermen, despised and persecuted by
41
msroBT of
st.
berkasd.
Bernard and hii gods, and to renew the face of tlie world. Mends retired to an humble dwelling at ChatiUon, and aj^lied themselves energetically to the work of their own salvation,
that they might thus be more capable of working for the salation of others.
CHAPTER
V.
NIVARD.
HOMECONVERSION OF
Chatillon seemed to have been selected by Bernard's holy company because the chosen youth of the province were assembled there. There Bernard himself had spent his brightest years,
his studies,
and there he had many friends, old companions of and witnesses of his success.
As
late
longing to one of their number, Bernard set himself to reguits internal discipline according to the spirit of the
Gospel
and
first
might
Christ.
he turned his zeal against himself, that he from the old man, and become an
example
whom
;
he had begotten tc
rise,
He
sensuality
fighting
incessantly
m order to break all the power of the His continual exercise was meditation on the sufferChrist.
ings
of Jesus
He
compared
bundle of myrrh which the bride, in the Canticles, gathered, lith pious care, to place in her bosom. He speaks thus upon " 'ihis subject For myself, dear brethren, from the first be:
ginning of my conversion, seeing myself to be wanting in rirtues, I took to myself this bundle of myrrh made up of
alJ
al]
mj
He
ejidured
LIFE IT CHATILLON.
4T
in
b His infancy,
weariness
the toils
He
underwent
His
ministry, the
His jouraeyings, His watching in His and prayer, fasting temptation, His tears of compassion, the snares laid to catch Him in His words. His perils among
suffered in
false
nails,
He
brethren, the
insults,
the
of
the
en-
the sorrows,
in
short,
kinds
which
He
upon these
is
and I have
dis-
here
is
me
in depression,
moderates
me
in success,
road
between the goods and the evils of this life, removmg, on each side, the perils which threaten my way. Therefore, also, it is that I have these things always in my mouth as you
know, and that I have them always in my heart, as God knows they are ever on my pen as all men may see and
; ;
the most sublime philosophy, which I have in this world, to know Jesus, and Jesus crucified."
is
This divine philosophy, while it enlightened his understanding and blazed forth in his eloquence, was realized in every action of his life, so that he might have said, like St. Paul, " to those who followed his guidance / leseeck hrethrm^
My
lously in
I also am of Christ ^"^ And so which were gathered round him walked emuthe steps of such a master, forgetting worldly delisouls
bondage of the
senses
; practising rigorous austerities, that they might subdue the flesh to the spirit ; and offering themselves daily as
his
by
his experience,
Even
hii
IS
BISTORT or
ST.
BERNIBD.
reproofs were mingled with so much love and sweetness, that they excited at once repentance and gratitude, without ever
provoking a murmur. He knew also, by his own experience, what kind of temptations are wont to attaok those who giv themselves up to God ; he forewarned them against vainglory,
and more
common with
those
who
way
of perfeo
tion, and who, though weaned from human consolations, have not yet arrived at the point where purer joys are found. " All of us, as many as have been converted to God," said " feel within ourselves, and he, acknowledge the truth of
those words of
Holy Scripture
'
thy soul for temptation.'* Now, the first thing which attacks US at the beginning of our conversion, according to
common
ful
experience,
is
by the
fright-
image of the severe life which we have embraced, and to which we are not yet accustomed. We do not see that tht
*
sufferings of this
time,
glory
are not worthy to be compared with tkt us p-f and we shrink from
known evils, for a good of which, as yet, we have no evidence. Those who enter religion must, therefore, watch
suffering
down
for-
by despondency and
fear,
God
good work they have begun. But, first temptation, we must next beware
will
of
human
life
my
tempt us to take pride in the holy Endeavor, therefore, brethren, after our Saviour's example, to rise above all
praise,
which
to which
these things."
Such were the wholesome and powerful lessons which Bernard frequently impressed upon the souls under his direction ; icd thus did he, like a watchful guide, make plain for them
EooLiLl.
tlKom.viU.lS.
LIFE AT CHATILLON.
49
the strait
way
for salvation
arming them against the dangers, which chiefly beset ita enThis careful and truly evangelical culture failed not trance. Then was seen that miracle which the to produce its fruit.
Christian faith alone has ever been able to perform, and
a
its
which the magic of the world has never been able to imitate miracle ever new, and ever wonderful ; but which, from
very frequency, escapes the attention of the vulgar, like those miracles of nature which are renewed every day before
and
social position
young
men, nurtured in luxury ; men of the world, who had hitherto known no passion but for glory and pleasure ; rich and
poor, learned and ignorant, the weak and the powerful the same living all one and the same life, walking together by
rule, in the same path, crowded closely together, like innocent lambs, under the crook of a shepherd boy I They were now thirty in number, of one heart and one
The Wilham of
soul.
felt
interior of their dwoUing, says the venerable Saint Thierry, realized the picture drawn by St. Paul of the Church of Corinth. Whoever entered that house
himself surrounded by an atmosphere of heavenly peace ; and so deep was the emotion excited, that, falling on his face, ie gave glory to God, and confessed that the Lord was
And then, uniting himself to that holy company, he abode within its bosom ; or if he went ftway again, it was to publish everywhere the happiness of these blessed men, and to deplore his own evil fortune in betruly in the midst of them.
"
There was,
in truth,
omon
of these
still
men
the world,
something very extraordinary in the of high distinction, still in the midst of wearing the dress of the world, and yet giv-
ing examine of
a Bupematnral
life,
God
bW
BISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARIV
All applied themselves, under BemanTi to serious the practice of the evangehcal counsels. guidance, They gave themselves to fastmg, holy vigils, mental prayer,
a sdcred holocaust.
and meditation on
eternal truths, supporting each other by Berthe reciprocal practice of a lively and tender charity. nard, though one of the youngest, was hke a mother or an ^he nourished them with love. elder brother among them " The superior," said he, " should be a mother rather than a
This most true idea gave him an immense power over hia His words of love, Uke a living chain, bound liiem subjects.
together,
and linked them to his own heart. Around him was habitual silence but there was no sadness in this silence
;
On
the contrary, it was all living and thriUing with angelic eloquence ; the truly wise have a language among themselves,
unknown
communication
to the rest of mankind; a mysterious and real vivid, rapid, sublime by means of which
souls sympathize,
minds speak,
are exchanged, thoughts discovered and revealed ; the language this of angels, which none but the King of angels, and
they
who
sense
new
In them a lead an angel's hfe, can understand. is awakenedthe intimate sense of spiritual things
all
it is at once a pure a spiritual taste, and a divine It is not that organ which no man can tame, which smell. at the same time blesses God our Father, and e4irses man
others, for
eye,
fine touch,
made
to
His ^mage it is not the tongue, which serves both good and evU, to dismrd and to peace it is, as we have of wisdom, to said, a language which belongs to the children
in
; ;
them of
whom
it
was
"
written,
. 9.
LIFE AT CHATTLLOW.
51
It had begun by excessive praise, now followed peace. loud censure, and, as a contemporary cbronicler assures us,
graye suspicion.
their first
Thus
six
establishment at Chatillon,
conforniilf upon to draw up a regular plan of Kfe to the spirit which animated his religious family. At this critical period the saint gave a proof of humility which, perhaps, surpasses all the heroic instances of this vir-
called
It
men
service of
God
in the
Church.
tolic
men
In the very lifetime of St. Bernard several aposfounded, with the approbation of the Holy See,
to
adapted to the special work which they had devoted themselves. St. Bruno, having been persecuted at Rheims, retired, in 1086, into a solitude lear Grenoble, where, with six companions, he began the jelebrated contemplative Order of the Carthusians. Another
founder, the pious Norbert, also a cotemporary of St. Bernard, instituted, in 1120, the order of the Canons Regular of Pre-
montre.
bert,
and
rapidly.
In 1116, the illustrious Robert of Arbrisselles founded the celebrated Order of Fontevrault. Eight years afterwards, in 1124, St. Stephen and some of his companions laid the
foundations of the Order of
Grandmont
and
lastly,
another
of Molesme, about 1100, had established himself, with his most fervent disciples, in the desert of Citeaux, there to revive, in its primitive purity, the ancient
Abbot
It
is
was by a
S3
fcity,
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD.
like so
many
other fomiders, to a
given him.
distinction
his
that, with
most
and
his disciples
an
order already established. For this purpose they chose the Order of Citeaux, the most severe then existmg ^the austerity
of which
by rehgioua with a shudder of hc~^r and compassion. The congregation of Citeaux had, as w have said, been recently founded by
St. Robert, in the
was
Burgundy
at
we
first
founder was
dead, and Stephen Harding, an Englishman of noble bu*th, was at the head of the community, which he ruled with con'
But the ravages of a disease which had decimated the country round, added to the extreme austerities practised there, kept new members from joinmg them,
Bummate wisdom.
and the holy abbot mourned over
this desolation
hke a barren
mother who despairs of children. It was in this house, thus lackmg both subjects and all thmgs necessary for the support
of
life,
the friends
that St. Bernard resolved to begin his novitiate with who were with him.
They settled all their affairs like men preparing for death and, having made all their arrangements, Bernard and his brothers went, before then* departure, to Fontames, to bid farewell to their father and ask his blessing.
At
which the strongest human heart can endure but once in the course of a long Hfe. Tecelin had long been anxiously his children's watching path, and although he was expectmg
consent to the
qualities
sacrifice.
To
lose in
one day
five sons,
I
whose noble
had been
his glory
and
his delight
to
FAREWELL TO HOME.
fife
I
58
it
for
*'
an old man bowed down beneath The thought of this farewell," sayg
his
an
historian,
"convulsed
heart,
as he
gazed on them,
sciousness.'*
and he almost
lost
con
floods of
she had a strong affection foi each one of her brothers, but from her childhood, and espe cially since her mother's death, her deepest and most confiding
tenderaess
had been
in
for Beraard.
Now
own happiness,
love, anger, reverence, blended, &he conjured Bernard to suspend his plans, she implored him to have some regard to the gray hairs of his father, to the deserted state of his youngest
a tone
which disappointment,
all
brother,
and to have pity on the poor feeble sister whom h loved, and who would soon be left alone
his soul
Bernard pos^ssed
heart
could
:
God
alone
the
this cruel
God who
consummate the
Christ
self
have given him the supernatural strength to sacrifice, according to the words of Jesus
"If any man will come after me, let him deny himand take up his cross and follow me ;"* and, "Every one that hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or
mother, or wife, or children, or lands for
shall receive
ing.*'
my
name's sake,
an hundred-fold and
The
departed.
For the
we
eourse of events, and hasten to tell him that, towards the ase of his life, the aged Tecelin rejoined his sons, and died
of days, in
arms of
St.
Bernard.
54
mSTORT OF
ST.
BEBNARD.
And
thus, in requital
all
eternity.
his departure
Bernard escaped, by
80 often fatal
for his father,
all
dangers arising from those strong affectiona to souls like his. But one last stroke remained
which came so
visibly
providence, as to have sufficied (one might have supposed) to open his eyes to the irrevocable destiny of his family .1" "As they left the castle-yard the sons of Tecelin caught sight of
their youngest brother,
at play with other childreL the Guido, age. eldest, embraced him, saying, " httle brother Nivard, do you see this castle and these lands ? Well, all this will be yours ^yours alone." " What!'* replied the child, with more than a child's thoughtfuhiess,
who was
f his
own
My
*'
oarth for
the
are you going to take heaven for yourselves ad leave me ? the division is not equal." From that moment
little
his
father, his
relations, or
joined St. Bernard, who, with his brothers and companions to the number of
thirty, set
He
They journeyed
who marched
at their head.
CHAPTER
Yl.
ORIGIN OF THE ORDER OF CITEAUXREVELATION CONCERNING ITS FUTURB DESTINYARRIVAL OF ST. BERNARD AT THE MONASTERY.
The
religious
orders,
nnchanging territory of the Church, are subject to the laws which govern the productions of nature. They grow from
55
and bear
increase, flourish,
then decrease, fade, and fall to the ground. But they ; have produced a fruit which contams withm it the germ of a
new
seed-tune,
ita
never-failing kind.
Thus the Order of St. Benedict, first devoutly founded, in the sixth century, on Mount Cassino, has been propagated through successive transformations even to our days, castmg
off at
its
former
shell,
to revive under
some
other form, adapted to other times and other manners. In the last century, including all the different branches and
more than thirty-seven thousand monasteries recogni^d St. Benedict for then* patriarch and from the time of Charlemagne, the western monks generally embraced his
affiUations,
;
rule
and
discipline.
One
was
the reform of Cluny, so called from a celebrated monastery of that name, founded about the year 910, in the diocese of
Ma9on, by William the Pious, Duke of Aquitame. This Benedictine congregation was governed for nearly 200 years by
St. Bemo, St. Odo, St. Mayeul, St. OdUo, St. Hugh, and Peter the Venerable aU illustrious for their learmng and
deep wisdom ; and it extended its fruitful branches over the whole of Europe. It was the central fire of the piety, wis-
dom, and sublime virtues of the middle age, and the home of its greatest men. The houses of his rule in Italy, France,
Spain, Germany, and England, numbered among their simple reUgious a multitude of princes, cardinals, and sovereigns ;
and among the humble monks who came forth from Cluny to rule the world, we may count three famous Popes St. Gre-
II.,
and Gelasius.
This marvellous prosperity continued to increase until the death of the holy abbot, Hugh, in 1109. From that tune
the Order of Cluny, having
pitch of
iti
66
mSTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD.
power, daily faded under the burden of its own wealth and grandeur. The abbot, Pons, who succeeded Hugh, opened
the door to abuses
;
all
the springs of the religious hfe began to relax. The buildmg bent towards its fall. After the death, indeed, of this unwor-
died of the plague, Peter the Venerable the evils of his rule, and to restore the ancient remedy His discipline. attempt, according to St. Bernard's own tes-
Ihy superior,
Cried to
who
timony, had no lastmg success. He was the last illustrioua man of this order, which seemed now to have fulfilled its
But obscurity. destmy, and which, after his death, is lost as the sap retired from the branch of Cluny, it was concentrated on another
pomt of
St. Benedict's
Order
which, at
to
mated by a strong desire for perfection, retked mto the lonely forest of Molesme, on the confines of Champagne and Bm^
; they maae tnemselves J otie huts with the branches of trees, and formed the congregation of Molesme, under the But in the designs of austere government of St. Robert.
^ndy
Providence, this congregation was to be but the nursery of a As soon as the estabUshment fruitful order.
Molesme was developed, the pious Robert, under the inspu-ation of God, made choice of the most fervent of the monks, and withdrew them like precious plants from Molesme,
to transplant
being seven
There they
^viz.,
Robert, Fourteen
other religious, from Molesme, afterwards jouied them, with the mtention of leadmg a more perfect Hfe ; and, in 1099,
ehey finished a small wooden chapel, which they dedicated to the Blessed Vu-gm, in order to place themselves more especially
so long^ deferred,
61
WHS to fill the earth. Citeaax, situated the diocese of Chalons, at some leagues distance from Dijoii, was at tbat time an almost inaccessible solitude, the savage wildness of
which had never yet been softened by the hand of mau, Robert and his companions retired into the depth of the fo^
est,
cleared a part of
in
it,
and
built
a constant round of labor and contemplation. These religious had at first no pecuhar rules or constitutions.
they Uved
literal
havmg
But Robert without making any change it. been obliged to return to Molesme, his disciple and
gave a
definite constitution to the rising
life
successor, Alberic,
The
rigid practices of
Gteaux
all
tion of self, to the complete mortification of corrupt nature, to the detachment of the soul from the ties, and its liberation
from the bondage of flesh and blood, to its restoration to holy freedom, and its original relation to its first Principle and the invisible world. The chosen souls called to this high
Calm and sustained develop the divine sense within them. labor, rigorous silence, habitual recollection, which mtensely concentrated the powers of the soul removal from all dissi;
and the
quisLment of material things such was the manner of life, sanctioned by the experience of ages, which these holy monks
fervently
complete
relin*
embraced
lished in it as the
bonds of earth
and they became the more firmly estal> fell from them, and they
eter-
rose each
nal joy.
^o
pure a
could not
aoierely rational
man
The fail to provoke calumny. does not understand the spiritual man's
BO
austerities
;
mSTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
and condemns, as blamable extravagances, the mortificationi which tend to purify his earthly life. Confounding, in hii
human nature as it came out of the bands of God, human nature now contaminated by sin, he asks, if God endowed it with so marvellous a sensibihty never to know
Ignorance,
with
enjoyment ? if God gave it organs, never to be used ? if God can take delight in the sufferings of man ? This is to ask why Christianity was founded on the cross? why Christ
The
not an after refinement of Christian morahty ; it is the expression and promulgation of the very laws and mevitar
ble reahties of our earthly existence.
This mortal
life,
which
terminates in death,
is
but a course of
sufferings, necessary
;
thjtwhich have been the gradual work of a whole life f^ The religious of Citeaux took all the evangelical counsela in earnest ; and their severe rules were terrifying to nature.
1
give themselves voluntarily to this work, instead of should waitmg for the last day to do by violence
who
Read
"
wished to live unknown and forgotten in their deep sohtude. Their austerities seemed beyond human endurance. They were half naked* exposed to the most piercing cold of win-
and most burning heat of summer. To labor they joined the most painful exercises
ter
theu* continual
;
vigils,
almost
throughout the night, the divine office, spiritual lectures, long prayers, and other devout practices, succeeded each other
or brown. St. Alberic changed one grayish white, when he took the Blessed Virgin for their " tht patroness. This was the color of St. Bernard's monastic habit ; owl of which is still preserved in the monastery of St, Viotor, al
it for
69
futhoat any intermissioii.^ "There was," adds the same " neither tumult, nor noise, nor confusion, nor comauthor,
plaint,
exercises.
nor dispute apiong them, nor intermission in their holy The Virgin, the Queen of Angels, was the light
re-
by whom
was given."
St. Stephen, an Englishman by bui;h, undertook the government of the congregation of Citeaux, on the death of St. Alberic, m 1109. Nothing can be more touching than
the account of this father^s obsequies ; the words pronounced by St. Stephen on this occasion may give us an idea of the
intense charity which subsisted
" Alas
I*
"
Alberic
dead to our
not to the eyes of God. Dead as he seems to us, us before the Lord ; for this is the way of the saints, that, when they go to God by death, they carry their friends with
them
them
for ever
so that
we may
God."
say that, death having united him to God, by an eternal arid unchangeable love, he has taken us with him to
The congregation of
of Stephen, began to attract public attention, and to excite the murmurs of the neighboring monasteries. The monks
of Cluny, having fallen from their original fervor, loved not to see this new order arise to rebuke theu* self-indulgence.
Hence, accusations, mvented by envy, burst forth on all sides against Stephen and his brethren ; they were denounced to the whole Church as innovators, who carried ascetism and
maceration of the body to excess of introducmg schism and division
;
among
In these
ble abbot
critical circumstances,
was admirable.
tute
ground, notwitfa
40
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNABD.
Standing all the efforts of men, he stood fast in the strlcsl observance of the rule, and only rephed to his cakmniatori by redoubled zeal and vigilance.
Yet
his faith
test,
have already noticed, in the precedstrange perplexity. ing chapter, that a mortal malady had made frightful ravages
in the country,
We
its
effects
been so fatal as
at Citeaux.
the rehgious, already exhausted by Nearly excessive austerities, died at the first approach of the malady,
sickly
monks remained
"
alive
1112.
" Besides
all
whelm me,"
my heart
is
pierced
through with anguish when I consider how few rehgious remam with us, for we are dying daUy, one after another, so that the thing which I greatly fear seems on the point
to befaU us, that this order will perish and die together
with us."
This frightful mortality had so stricken the rismg eongregation that the monks began to fear that there was some
truth in the accusations brought against them, and that the austerity of theu* life was not ordered accordmg to the rules
of Christian prudence. St. Stephen's own confidence began to waver, and not knowmg what course to take in this painful state of uncertainty,
he endeavored to obtain
;
light
by a
strength of his faith and the purity of his conscience. fact which we are about to relate, however strange it
The
may
appear, seems to us to possess a character of the greatest authenticity ; I will, therefore, tranajribe it, with a few omissions, in
**
and receive the recompense of his labors. Then, St. Stephen, being full of the spirit of God, approached him, and said
thus, ia the presence of all the religions
'
You
see,
mj
b*<
61
what auction,
trouble,
we.
We
we
showed unto
life
is
Dleasing to God, especially seeing that the religious of this country condemn us as persons who have invented new ways
of
life,
scandal, schism,
and
division.
am
deeply
company
and, as
God
with
for
in
sends us no one to
fill
calls to Himself,
us.
I fear
Therefore, in the
much name
the places of those whom He that this new institute will end of our
Lord Jesus
Christ,
whose love we have chosen the narrow way set before us His Gospel, I command you, in virtue of holy obedience,
that,
when you
shall
us, at
the
time and in the manner which shall please Hun, to mform ns, according to His wiH, what we are to beheve concemmg
our state, and the life which we are leading.' " To these words the dymg man simply answered
rend father, I
will
Reve what you are pleased tc command me, on condition that you will aid me with your
:
'
do very
willingly
holy prayers, that I may be able to execute your orders.' " Some days had elapsed smce the death of the religious, and the holy abbot, bemg at work with his brethren, gave
tne signal for repose, as was the custom. He retired a Httle seated and covered his head with himself, apart, and, having
his scapular,
he began to pray.
all
glory
^he
without touchmg the ground " The holy abbot asked how it fared with him. " * I am happy,' replied he, and I pray God to render
air
*
you as happy as I am, for by your wholesome instructions, and your constant care, I now enjoy that happiness and peace incomprehensible, which surpass all the thoughts of men tr
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
conceive. And now, in obedience to the command you have been pleased to lay upon me, I return to make known to you, my father, and to all my brethren, the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ towards this new order. Know, then, and doubt not, that your way of life is pleasing to Jesus Christ. Banish your affliction, or rather let it be changed into joy, for behold God will shortly make known to you the riches of His mercy, and will send you a great number of persons, among whom there will be many noble, wise, and mighty; and they shall so fill this house, that they shall go forth from it
swarms of bees to overspread all parts of the world; and they shall people other monasteries, which shall be the happy fruit of that seed of benediction, which has grown and gathered strength in this place, by the grace of God."
like
" The " religious," continues the historian, having uttered these solemn words, asked and obtained the blessing of him who had been his superior in the school of
and then disappeared, leaving St. Stephen in an ecstacy of admiration and gratitude. This extraordinary revelation revived the courage of the monks; but ansanctity,
other event, which happened at the same time, was looked upon oy them as a new presage of the consolations which they expected. brother had a dream, in which he saw a multitude of men, who came to the
monastery to wash their clothes, and he heard a voice, which told him that this fountain should be called Enon, the place where the precursor of Jesus Christ baptized. This vision appeared to the holy abbot to have a hidden meaning; and from that time he lived in continual expectation of a great number of persons, who were to come and wash off the stains of their souls in the labors and tears of the penitential life of Citeaux." This expectation was at last fulfilled. St. Stephen and feeble remnant of his monks were one day before God in
ARRIVAL OF
ST.
BERNARD.
6S
^ayer, supplicating,
all
At
with a young
full
that moment, a troop of men, to the number of thirty, man at their head, slowly crossed the forest, and
St. Stephen, his heart of hope, went to receive them ; and they fell at his feet, and earnestly besought admission into the order.
Then
Abbot of Citeaux
"
of this
St, Thierry,
to have heard those words of the prophet Give praise, thou barren, that bearest not : sing forth praise, and make a joyful noise, that thou didst not travail with child: for
'
many
hftth
thttt
an hosband.
HISTORT OF
ST.
BERyiKD.
B tto ni |)ettod
CHAPTER
YII.
MONASTIC LIFE OF ST. BERNARD, FROM HIS ENTRANCl INTO THE ORDER OF CITEA-UX, TO HIS POLITICAL LIFE, CONNECTED WITH THE SCHISM OF ROME. (1113-1130.)
NOVITIATB OF
ST. BERNARDHIS PROFESSIONENLARGEMENT Of CITEAUXFOUNDATION OF CLAIRVAUX.
fifteen
yant of God, Bernard, at about three-and-twenty years of age, entered, with thirty companions, into this monasti.ry,
From
that
day,
God
raining
down
blessings
on
Lord of
Hosts,
sea,
it produced its fruit and extended its branches to the and even beyond the sea." Citeaux, which but now was on the point of becoming extinct, like a new-bom child condemned to die in the cra-
dle,
arrival of
Bernard and
numerous company.
whom
St,
Stephen put
off for
two
years, on account of
his
extreme
youth. This was the gentle Robert, St. Bernard's cousin, of whom we shall soon have occasion to speak.
From
the
moment
others.
life,
had given to
"
**
Si
HIS KOVITIATS.
est
mdpis, ferfede md^peP In choosing for his reti^at the poorand most obscure of the reUgious orders, he hoped to
remain there, unknown and forgotten of men ; and henceforward, desu*ing nothing but to die with Jesus Christ, he em-
and carried
braced the cross lovingly, attached himself to it resolutely, it generously after the Divine Master to whom he
himself.
had consecrated
Having
on the high end to which he was tending with all his strength, he frequently said to himself, " Bernard, why hast thou come
here V^
And
as
we read
of
began to do, and afterwards He taught,* 80 Bernard worked first at his own sanctification, and pracour Lord, that
tised himself all that
His biographers tell, with admiration, of the efforts which he made to overcome himself, and to brmg his lively and nato-
mto subjugation : he submitted, with perfect regularity, to the most humble and painful exerand his vu^ue daily cises of the disciplme of St. Benedict
rally passionate character
;
developed
who
so vigorously as to astonish the aged saint this new school of prophets. He had acquired governed
itself
lection easy
the salutary habit of hving interiorly, which rendered recoland continual ; and as the life-giving graces
which he drew from the mvisible source shone forth in his exterior, he seemed always surrounded by a glory of celestial
joy
;
would have
spirit rather than a man, exemplifying in his " If he afterwards said to his novices : you de-
to live in this house, you must leave outside the bodies which you bring from the world ; for souls only are admitted The more he tasted the dehere, and the flesh is nothing."
lights of the love
him
interiorly,
^his
natural
HISTORY OF
ffr.
BERNiltD.
ineffable consolations.
thus the constant practice of mortification gradually became so habitual, that living now only for spiritual things,
And
he saw without seeing, heard without hearmg, ate without tasting, and he scarcely retained any feeling for the things of the body." It is said that more than once he drank oil
or some other liquid for water without perceiving it ; he did know at the end of his year's novitiate, whether the top of the dormitory was flat or vaulted ; neither did he know
not
whether there were windows at the end of the oratory where he prayed daily ; one single thought absorbed him entkely
and preserved him from puerile distractions. His conscience, becoming more dehcate the more he purified it, could no longer
suffer
lightest fault
was agony to
the young novice. His affection for his mother had suggested a vow to recite the Seven Penitential Pslams every day in her
"Once," says the author of "The Exordium of whilst stiH in his novitiate, he went to rest withCiteaux," 041 1 having accomplished the duty which he had prescribed to
memory.
"
himself. The next day, Stephen, his sph-itual father, being inwardly enlightened, said to him: 'Brother Bernard, to whom did you give the care of reciting your seven pslams
these words, Bernard, astonished that a practice which he had kept secret should be kaown, burst into tears ; and throwing himself at the feet of his venerable
yesterday?"
At
and humbly begged pardon for it. Another time, having received a visit from some of his relar tions who were hving in the world, he took pleasure in list^
This vain curiosity
scarcely satisfied
was
of
it
when he began
to feel the
bad
effects
clouds obscured the peace of his soul, and, for a long time, he remamed without any consolation in prayer, and without joy or strength in his ascetic exercises, until, at
Dark
HIS NOTTTIATE.
at the foot of the altar, praying
67
for the retnrn
and weepmg
It was thus that the unction of truth, which inof grace. wardly directed and instructed him, purified him from the
slightest stains
;
and
in requital of his
punctual fidehty to
perfeo-
by
step, to the
most sublime
Meanwhile, even in the year of his novitiate, Bernard, whose constitution was feeble and delicate, fell ill he could
fits.
"As
he eats
little," says a contemporary biographer, "he also little and, in these two things, he seems to use what sleeps IS necessary, less to sustain hfe than to defer death." Besides
;
the natural weakness of his temperament, he hastened the by the excess of his austerities ; and he
fiad reason afterwards to regret his want of due discretion in the use of penitential practic<3s. His stomach rejected every kind of nourishment, and his body became so thin, that it
seemed scarcely material. But these infirmities did not prevent him from following the common rule he shunned all
;
and endeavored to supply his want of physical His greatest grief was strength by the fervor of his spirit. not to be able to share the fatigue and rough work in which
singularity,
his brethren
were employed. He lamented before God the sad incapacity which prevented him from serving the monastery by the labor of his hands ; nevertheless, by dint of
appUcation and perseverance, he at length succeeded in digging the ground, choppmg wood, and carrying it on his Whilst he was engaged in these exterior works, shoulders. his brethren were admiring his profound recollection; he
an extraordinary zeal
and
multiphed and fatiguing occupations, he was ever attentive to the voice which speaks to the heart, ever consumed in the
Uving
fire
S8
BISTORT 07
ST.
BERVASD,
He always pr'vserved a grateful reBonrce of divine light. once active and passive, membrance of this kmd of life
which was to him a season of abundant grace and rapid pro*'He declares it stUl," says the monk already cited; gress. " he avows that it was principally in the fields and woodi
that he received, by contemplation and prayer, the under the habit of saymg standing of the Scriptures ; and he is ()leasantly to his friends, that he had never had any other
master in this study than the beech trees and oaks of the
forest."
It was in these peaceful and fervent exercises that the time of the novitiate passed. The long-desired day of his the month of April, profession at length arrived ; it was
1114, that Bernard and his old companions pronounced their perpetual vows with deep emotion. Contemporary chroniclers simply announce the fact adding that expressions are want;
ing to speak of
it
worthily.
One
an
irresistible vocation,
rest, to
Bernard and passed at this time within these chosen souls. his brothers offered themselves to God, without reserve, aa
victims of expiation and of love, desiring nothing else in thii world than to immolate themselves daily to the service and glory of Jesus Christ.
The example of St. Bernard had drawn many postulants to Citeaux, so that the monastery could scarcely contain the
great number of persons, of different countries, who begged admission into the order. Historians, astoaished at this ei
it
The unfavorable
monks of Molesme, which reports they spread about the lew as called it known everywhere, and made monastery, it, they
particularly the
%i
became
religious.
The number of
thee
Stephen was obliged to think about the establishment of a colony. The place, which he consid-
growing daily
larger,
ered well adapted for this foundation, had been offered to the Abbot of Citeaux by the lords of tne country of Chalons.
It
was a
forest, of
and, after
having raised
an humble church, surrounded by cells, Stephen sent thither twelve monks, under the conduct of Bertrand, a
man
fiUation
from Citeaux
and
St. Stephen, in
it
name
he called
it
Firmitas (Ferte)
symFirmness
to
mark the strength and consistency that God had given to the new order. Scarcely was the monastery of La Fert6 established, when a second colony of religious was asked of St,
Stephen, for the diocese of Auxerre. Although the holy abbot earnestly desired the extension of his order, he was in
no hurry to accept the land which had been placed at his he feared the dangers of too rapid and precocious disposal
;
a development
all
circumstances, and waited with tranquillity the indicationa of Providence. But at last, the monastery contmuing to fill
with novices, he was obliged to decide. Stephen again designated twelve of his religious, and gave them as abbot the
celebrated
Hugh
The merit of Hugh may be nard, and his spiritual son. estimated by the choice made of him, and the wonderful
increase of the monastery of Pontigny under his direction.
This house became, as it were, a nursery of holy prelates, who shed the most brilliant lustre on the Order of Citeaux.
like
was so
full
of pos-
year 1115, that St. Stephen, after having delayed their reoepticn, was again obliged to seek an estab
70
Ksbment
for
HISTORY OF
these
ST.
BERNARD.
laborers.
swarms of evangelical
An
tioned to him.
inaccessible
;
there
This desert was very marshy, and almost was no doubt that the religious of Citeaux
would
Consequently, Stephen, although he knew no one in the diocese who could maintain the foundation, proposed his idea
the brothers, and asked their opinion. Some judged this on account of the want of every kmd enterprise impossible,
;o
others, among whom was St. Stephen, thought that they ought to depend entu*ely on God for the success of the work. This last advice prevailed. The holy abbot chose, for the new establishment, Bernard's brothers, his
of means
uncle Godfrey,
was
age
the
;
his relation
religious, named Gauldry, one of whom anotner named Elbold, of very advanced he joined to these, to complete the number of twelve,
two
;
Stephen put at the head of this holy colony him who had been the guiding angel of his brethren, and the consolation
Bernard was then only in his twenty-fifth year ; subject of general surprise that a young man of so delicate a temperament, and who had no experience in
of Citeaux.
it
and
was a
worldly
affairs,
an
enterprise.
should be chosen as the head of so perilous But his virtue had shone forth in so remark-
Church.
The day
ar-
^whose
repre-*
set out,
Bernard, who, having become their abbot, represented Jesus Christ ia the midst of his disciples. The ceremony observed under these circumgtacces was mple and touching. The
FOUNDATION OP CLAIRVAtTX.
ftf)bot
tl
hands of him
Ebbot
cross,
;
who was
then the new abbot, leaving the church, with the and followed by his twelve religious, bade adieu to hia
brethren,
who
as
"As
soon
Bernard and
Citeaux,
intoned a solemn chant as they set forth. his twelve monks," say thp
chroniclers of
"had
silently
you might have seen tears stream from the eyes of all brethren, while nothing was to be heard but the voices
those
of
re&tiain
'tifle
sous, in spite
they
It
was
difficult
to distinguished those
made to who
who remamed
and
affliction
until, at length,
was
closed
again upon the others.^' Who does not here admire the humble obedience and profound abnegation of these true disciples of Jesus Christ?
They
and
separated, without a
faithful
companions, with
whom
murmur, from old friends, from they had lived in the world
the monastery; they quitted a venerable superior, i^hom they loved as their father a holy house, which they had chosen for their resting-place ; an edifying company, the
;
and they departed, with; out knowing whither they were gomg, what would become of them, nor the sufferings which awaited them Bernard,
I
of vigor in his apostolic path, recovers strength, and strengthens his brethren ; he walks before them, like the
always
full
G^ood Shepherd ; he guides them, consoles them, raises them above all human forethoi^ht, and fills them with hope and
did they wander across an uncultivated country, dense forests ; but they felt neither privations nor through the tired traveller does not long more earnestl)f fatigues ;
joy.
Long
for bis
home than
these
men
of
?2
HISTOBY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
They, at length, reached this swampy valley it wa #<a old naunt of robbers, and was called in the country the valley of Absinthea ; but Bernard gave it the name of Clau^Vallee-
;
for henceforward it
Bernard and
his
lishing themselves in a place far from any habitation ; and. mstead of disputmg with tiiem the possession of a retreat
which until then had only inspired them with fear, the inhabitants of the neighboring country helped them to clear the ground, and to build little cells glad to have monks
mortified
life
they had finished their humble oratory, and the buildings began to take the form of a monastery,
As soon as
it
Bernard gave
definite organization.
He
St.
confided the
Stephen had for that important ministry he gave particularly designated to his brother Gerard the office of cellarer, and charged
charge of prior to the
;
Andrew,
out,
having put
Then, he set
there as abbot.
accompanied by a rehgious, to Chalons to be blessed William of Saint Thierry thus relates this
:
circumstance
"When
it
blessing from
cese he was,
became necessary that Bernard should receive a bishop, the see of Langres, in which dio*
happened to be vacant ; and the brethren, de liberating among themselves where they should take him to be ordained, the high reputation of the famous doctor,
William of Champeaux, Bishop of Chalons, induced them to He went, therefore, to decide on this remarkable prelate.
Chalons (on Marne) with the monk Elbold. When Bernard, then only twenty-five years of age, entered the episcopaj house ^his body emaciate, and death painted in his face,
whilst the
tall,
robust, and
fOUNDATION OF CLAIRTAUX.
78
but some, judg-
welWooking
some laughed,
others
mocked
The ing according to truth, were touched with reverence. was fixed the two his which of without abbot, bishop, asking
eves on Bernard, and received the servant of
himself servant of God.
From
Lord
;
in our
God as being that day and that hour they and they visited one another
famiharity, that Clairvaux became to the holy bishop as his own house, and Chalons the hospitable retreat of all those from Clairvaux. The diocese of Rheims and all
much
France was excited by the example of WilUam of Champeaux to revere the man of God; for all learned of so pious a
bishop to respect him as an angel sent from heaven. It waa said, with reason, that a prelate of such high authority must have seen great heavenly gifts and graces in Bernard, sinc
he
testified so lively
an
he waa
Meanwnile, as
it
ordinarily happens
among men,
the inhazeal
first
shown great
succoring these poor religious, soon got accustomed to seeing the examples of sanctity which shone before their eyes ; and,
growing
fell, by degrees, into extreme distress. The monks, constantly occupied in the building of the monastery, could not possibly earn their bread by their work and as their establishment had been made after the season for sowing, the land yielded them nothing. It was with in-
with which they made bread ^having nothing to eat but the kaves of beech trees, cooked in salt water. The winter came
to add
and
millet,
new
and Clairvaux
had
them." Bernard called one of the brethren, and said to him: '^Goibert, my gon, take the ass, and go buy salt in th
t4
BisrofiT
or
&rr.
bibnisd.
The brother replied "My father, will jou gire market.'* me money to pay for it ?" "Have confidence," replied the man of God "as for money, I do not know when we shall have any but there is one above who keeps my purse, and who has the care of my treasures." Guibert smiled, and,
:
" father, if I go emptylooking at Bernard, said to him " handed, I fear I shall return empty-handed." Go," still " and with confidence. I replied Bernard, go repeat to thee,
:
My
my
thee with
what
is
necessary."
Upon this,
went to the market, which was held near a castle called Ris" nellus. Guibert," adds the simple chronicler, "had been
nevertheless, the
;
God
for,
of
all
consolation procured
not far
him an unexpected success from the neighboring town, he met a priest, who him whence he came.
his mission,
Guibert con
that he furnished him abundantly with all sorts of provisions." The happy Guibert returned in haste to the monastery, and,
throwing himself at the feet of Bernard, related what had happened to him on the road. The father then gently addressed these words to him
:
"I
told thee,
my
son, there is
nothing more necessary to the Christian than confidence in God ; never lose it, and it will be well with thee all the days
ofthyHfe."
3"
fell
This assistance, however, and several other resources which had been presented them, in a no less marvellous manner,
anew
into all
the horrors of complete indigence ; the religious, a prey to hmiger, cold, and almost insupportable privations, gave way to
discouragement, and manifested loudly their desire to return Bernard himself was overpowered by so deep a to Citeaox.
FOUNDATION OF CLAIRVIUX.
\9
adness at the sight of the moral and physical sufferings of his children, that he lost power to encourage them so that ;
and
were depriyed at once of the bread of the body on account of their extreme poverty, and of the bread of the soul on account of the sile'ice
had began before the enf* of the was year 1115, prolonged during the winter of the . ring and it would be year, unpossible to tell what Bernard had to
during these sixteen or seventeen months, in strivmg to prevent the dissolution of Clau'vaux, and to turn to the th advantage of the brothers the terrible trial which,
Buffer,
designs of God,
was to confirm
and
who then
led
you
places to endure the most cruel hardships, but He who came down upon earth to be born in a manger and to die upon the
cross
?
Who
your
friends,
your
relations,
and of
despoiling yourselves of yourselves, but the for love of men, gave them his own Ufe ?
One day Bernard, bathed in tears, had prostrated himself on the steps of the altar, with his brothers, lamenting before the Lord and imploring aloud the mercy of the Saviour, to
whom
Hearts.
At
moment they
all
The
astonished brethren
list-
ened attentively and heard distinctly these words, which " resounded through the church : Arise, Bernard, thy prayer
is
heard
ff
HX8I0BT OF
err
bebnabd.
CHAPTER VIIL
1TEL0PMBNT Of OLAIRYAUXILLNESS OJ
TIVB OF WILLLA.M OF
ST.
its
foundation,
;
may be compared
have been weaker, humbler, more miserable than this heavenly seed when it was first cast mto the field of the Church ;
long vegetated without any development ; it had to struggle against the most violent storms and tempests ; but the
it
principle of
life
contamed withm
it
God
ment,
spring.
sufferings of the religious were, at
;
length, divulged,
unexpected
rehef poured in on all sides ; and Bernard had soon to apprehend the dangers of too great abundance more than the evils of famine. While the brethren were still in amazement
at the superhuman voice which had been heard the church, two strangers arrived at the monastery, and laid very considerable oflfermgs at St. Bernard's feet. Wagons, laden with
provisions, arrived soon afterwards
and
fertilized
from Chalons and the by the sweat of these pious cenby their labor, began to afford regular
;
resources and to supply theu* urgent necessities. Bernard, now at ease as to temporal things, and seeing
peace and divine virtues flourish among his children, was abl to absent himself from the monastery and accede to the fre-
quent entreaties of the Bishop of Chalons, who desu-ed him to preach in the churches of his diocese. These missions exercised
an
irresistible influence
God whose
DEYKLOPMENTS AT OLAISVAUX.
tt
dew
attached themselves closely to the him to Clairvaux to embrace the and followed young abbot, " monastic rule. How many learned men," writes one of the " how biographers of St. Bernard, many orators, how maty nobles and great ones of the earth, how many philosopher!
refonning their
" he made easy many things which seemed scarcely more possible than to remove mountains. Grace manifested itself in
a remarkable manner by his preaching ; by it he softened the most hardened hearts, and he scarcely ever returned without
Thus making bringing back some fruit of his discourses. new as much the every day eflBcacy of his inprogress, by
by the example of his sanctity and the nets of word of God bemg thrown out on every opportunity by this faithful servant who preached m the name of God, so great a draught was taken at each cast as seemed sufficient
structions as
;
the
the little vessel of Clairvaux. Hence, it happened that a short time, by the greatest miracle which he ever his life, this half-dead, languishing man, whose wrought
to
fill
in
it
name of
Claire-
spread, as from the highest summit of Christian virtues, a divine light and brilliancy over the face of the
Vallee, since
it
earth."
Clauraux,
of Trois-
Abbot
Fontaines, Humbert, the pious Ranald, Peter of Toulouse, the Blessed Odo, afterwards Sub-prior of Clairvaux, and everal canons of Chalons and Auxerre, are specially to be
noticed.
The
t8'
limself Tinder
HISTORY OF
ffl.
BERNARD.
the astonishment of every one ; but he was the mly one of these new monks who did not persevere to the id in the way of God.
lovitiate, to
The great
soul of
Bernard seemed to
;
dilate as the
all
number
all,
to
he
placed no limits to his solicitude, until, at length, sinking under fatigue, vigils, and excessive labor, he lost his strength, and
became subject to violent pains. For a long time his infirmities had been increasing in an alarming manner, and a continual low fever, added to his rigorous abstinence, had
the
all
enfeebled his body. But, towards the end of the year 1116, illness proved to be of so comphcated a kind as to lead
to fear that his end
was
near.
these sad cu*cumstances, the Bishop of Chalons, William of Champeaux, who was deeply interested in the
Under
preservation of the holy abbot's Hfe, hastened to Clairvaux He was persuaded that a less austere diet, together with re-
pose and care, might restore his health and, with this conviction, he, on his knees, begged the Chapter of Citeaux to
;
one year.
ble
management of Bernard for The Chapter, touched by the charity of the humprelate, placed the Abbot of Clairvaux, in an especial
;
Wilham
required that Bernard should be from all care, spiritual or temporal, of released completely the monastery, for the space of a year. He had a separate
of
Champeaux
dwelling prepared for him, without the inclosure of the cloister, and confided the sick man to a doctor, whose directions
were to be
strictly observed.
worthy of the reputation which he enjoyed, ha^ neither skill nor conscience and the pedantic authority which he exer;
dsed over Bernard became the source of more acute pain to hun than his physical sufferings. During the ten or twelTt
DIYELOPMENTS AT CLAXByAUX.
*19
murmuring or complaining, the brutal treatment of this ignorant quack and as if God, content with his obedience, wished
;
to
show that
fit,
it is
judges
without
it, Bernard began gradually to recover his strength, and wm Boon convalescent. One of his most faithful friends, he whom
we have
to
William
of St. Thierry
came
during days with him, so as to observe his manner of Ufe. He has given in his journal an account of all that he saw at Clairvaux ; and the picture he draws \ so
simple, touching,
pay Bernard a
this retreat,
and
edifying, that
it
we
will give
fajthful
translation of
it
here, abridging
but
little
ening "
its
interest.*
this time that I
began to go to Clakvaux and to see him, with another come Having I found him in his was like to the lodges which abbot, cell, to the on He was then ordinarily assigned high-road. lepers
It
was at
enjoying perfect repose, being released from all care of the house, by command of the bishop and abbots ; living in God
The B. William, Abbot of St. Thierry, was one of the most learned
of this great age, as may be seen by his works, collected in the library of the fathers ; and by the particular esteem Bernard testifies for him in his epistles. The work which he addressed to the religious of Mont-dieu, where he treats of the advantages of solitude, contains the most sublime principles of the ascetic life. He was so much struck
men
by the sanctity of the Abbot of Qairvaux, that, even during his but ttme, he wrote the most remarkable facts of his history
;
life-
this
by the death of William, was, unfortunately, but a single book, and ends before th time when St. Bernard entered public life. Several authors pretend that William laid down his dignity of abbot to embrace the rule of Citeaux. This fact does not appear to us to be proved for that such was the desire of William is evident, frour his correspondence with St. Bernard ; but we see, from \hMe same epistles, that the latter always opposed thia project of William. -See Bernard, Epist 79.
writing, interrupted
;
80
and
full
BiCTORT OF
srr.
beskibd.
of joy, as if he had already tasted the delights of When I set foot this royal chamber, and con paradise.
sidered
what
this lodging
in
it,
I attest,
if
was
seized with as
much
reverence as
I felt penetrated I had been approaching the holy altar. with so great a sweetness in entering into conmiunication
with this man, and I conceiyed so ardent a desire to remain with him, to share his poverty and his simplicity, that if a
had been given me among all kinds of conditions, I should have asked nothing so earnestly as to dwell always with this man of God, to serve him.
choice
charity,
cell.
"After he had, on his part, received us with gracious we asked hun what he did and how he lived m his
him
He
'
replied,
am
men
sonable
happy, perfectly happy, here for before, reaobeyed me; and now, by a just judgment of
God, I obey a man without reason.' This he said of an arrogant doctor, who had boasted he could cure him, and
into
and
whose hands he had been put by the bishop, the abbots, his brethren. We ate with hun, and we thought that
every kind of care ought to be taken of his health, the re-establishment of which was so necessary. But seeing that, by the
order of the doctor, they offered him food which a person in good health, and dying of hunger, could scarcely eat, we
were indignant
and
it
difficulty
we could
preserve the rule of silence, and refrain from treating this As to the man of God, doctor as a sacrilegious homicide.
he was mdifferent to these things; his digestion being so greatly injured, that he was no longer able to discern the
taste of
what he took.
state
"
m which
;
way
of
life in his
and he enjoyed the company and consolation of holy angels, as has been proved by manifeil
with
God was
Mm
DETSLOPIIENTS AT CLAIRVAUX.
81
ligns
one night, as he was praying with extraordinary and pouring out his soul before God, he heard a harmony of voices, and having fallen into a Ught sleep, he waa awakened by a noise as of a great multitude passing before
^for
fervo?,
him.
Then, the voices which he had before heard renewed There ^he left his cell and followed them. their concerts
was not
thick
far
off,
a place
full
is
was
^there
choirs,
on either
side,
who
alternated
entrancmg the holy man. He did not rightly understand the mystery of this vision until several years after, when the monastery was removed to a more spathen* melodious chants,
cious place,
built
voices.
with this great saint, although I was unworthy of such a and, whenever I looked, I was struck with admira;
tion, as if I
new earth
and
"
of Egypt.
seeing men of our time following in the footsteps, the ^the solitaries living perfect life of our first fathers
;
On
coming down from the mountain, and entering ClairGod was visible on all sides and the
;
by the simplicity and humility of the dwellings, the humility and simplicity of those who inhabited them and then, penetrating further into this holy place, so full of men, where none were idle, all occupied at some kind
;
of work, there was to be found at midday a silence like to that of midnight, interrupted only by manual labor, and the The harmony of this voices which sang the praises of God.
silence
worldly strangers, struck with reverence, not only feared to utter a wicked or idle word, but even to indulge a thought which was not serious and worthy of the holy retreat.
"Tne
God
lived
wai
82
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD
Burrounded by a thick, dark forest, so closely shut in by tw oeighboring mountains as to give it the appearance of a deep and although there was so great a numgrotto ;
...
ber of them, they were, nevertheless, all solitaries ; for as a single man, when he lives in trouble and misrule, contains in
cahnness of
himself a noisy multtude, here, on the contrary, by unity and spirit, all preserved solitude of heart."
Such was
and the holy
ley
wisdom, under
Abbot Bernard
(m
things,
the Lord, according to the model which had been shown him on the mountam, when he was with God in the desert of
Citeaux, Kke Moses in the cloud.
Would to God that, consenting to be a man with men, he had been as gentle, discreet, and careful towards himself as he was towards others But no sooner was he released
1
"
from the year's obedience he promised to the Bishop of Chalons, than, as an unbent bow returns to its first state, or as a
torrent, breakmg through its bank, returns to its own course with increased impetuosity, so did he return to his austerities with new ardor, in order to revenge himself, in some sort, for
his forced repose,
his
penance."
It was in the beginning of the year 1118 that Bernard returned to his duties as abbot, to the great joy of his brethren. His health was not re-established, and his body, far
from having recovered strength during his long Beemed thinner and more extenuated than ever.
seclusion,
But
hia
mind, freed in so great a degree from material ties, exerted It was inconceivable, itself with more power and vigor.
that with a form so
ftua
frail,
DETELOPMFNTS AT CLAERVAUX,
U) his charge,
life
;
83
the words and the example of the holy abbot commmii* cated to the rehgious an ardent zeal for sanctification and
spiritual perfection.
tion,
New
disciples, chiefly of
;
came almost
men
sideration
evangeUcal sufferings and whilst the number of the rehgious increased in so wonderful a manner, their virtues, their hoUness, theu* angelic life
was a spectacle
still
more admirable.
here give our readers some passages of a letter, which win complete the description of Clakvaux, and make
will
We
holy work of Bernard, founded in this desert, better This remarkably beautiful letter, preserved in appreciated. the annals of Citeaux, was written by the monk Peter de
the
Roya, who, after having renounced worldly grandeurs, tasted, under the direction of Bernard, the purest dehghts of piety.
is
situated
It
a valley,
is
there
God
shows Himself wonderful, and works extraordinary things it is there the unwise recover for the glory of His name
;
wisdom
it is
man
is
outward man
destroyed ; there the proud become humble, the rich poor, the ignorant acquire knowledge, and the darkness of sin is dissipated by the action of light ; there there is
among the multitude of men who many different countries. They are
life.
By
their
and humble
attitude,
may be
seen how great is their fervor and the purity of soul with which they conmiune with God, and the intimate union The long pauses they make in the they contract with Him. office in the middle of the night ; the maimer in which they
14
BISTOBT OF
8T.
BKRNABD.
redte the psalms and apply themselves to the reading of tlii sacred Scriptures ; the profound silence they maintain vrhea
they listen to God, teaching in the depths of their heart But this sufficiently shows the consolation they enjoy.
all
who
their labor ?
community goes to or comes from work, they walk mth simphcity and in order, like to an exmy in battle array, covered
with the arms of humility ; they are bound together by the bond of peace and fraternal charity, which is joy to the angels as it is the terror of devils. " sustain them in does the
And
their labor
so mightily Holy Sph'it by the unction of His grace, that although they
have so much trouble and fatigue they bear it with as much patience as if there were none. " There are some among them who held in the world a
distinguished rank,
renowned for
their learning
who were surrounded with splendor, and these now humble themselvei
;
only the more profoundly as they were before more exalted When I see them in the fields handling the spade, the fork, and the rake, or in the forest with the axe ; when I think
what they have been, what they now are they would have appeared to me, had I judged them with the carnal eyes, as ^the fools and madmen, deprived of speech and language when But 1 and of of scorn the men, people. opprobrium look upon them with the eyes of faith, I regard them as men whose Hfe is hid with Christ in God. I see among them a Godfrey of Perrone a Wilham of St. Omer and so many other great men, whom I once knew in the world, and who now allow no trace to be seen of what they were ; whilst be*
;
fore time they bore themselves proudly, being then but whited
sepulchres, fuU of
Christian vh'tues."*
hooM
impressions we ourselves have fel^ of St. Bernard, at the Trappist monastery ef Mount Olivet,
DEtKLOPMENTS AT CLAIRVAUX.
85
in the
this
came to
and share
Tecelin took
the religious habit, and not wishing that any difference should be made between him and the other monks, he humbly practised all the exercises of the order,
and shortly
after closed
by the happy death of the just. But this joy which the Lord granted to Bernard, was followed by an event which deeply wounded his soul, and caused
his noble career
hun
epistle,
accents of th
in Alsace,
where we had the happiness of making a delightfol retxeat. angelical life of the disciples of St. Bernard would appear almost febulouB in times like our own, if we had not still the means of ascer-
The
Jaining its exact truth ; and this leads us to render our testimony of irhat we have seen, known, and admired. join to it the expression
We
f our gratitude
entertain for
him and the holy religious of the monastery, who received ns with so much kindness, and gave us so much edification, of which we shaU never lose either the fruit or remembrance.
Among the various reforms of Citeaux, which have been made in th course of centuries, that of La Trappe is, undoubtedly, the most conformed to the primitive spirit of the order of St. Benedict. Its founder
was the celebrated Abbot de Eanc6, who
in the year 1700.
It is a
touching spectacle, and one which cannot fail to excite emotion in any visitor, this assemblage of venerable monks, either silently working in the fields, or immovable as statues in thf tails of their humble church, intoning a grave psalmody. These ar
ohooLi in
which
it
would be well
to learn to
become a ChristiMi.
86
HISTORY or
ST.
BERNABD.
CHAPTER IX
HISTORY OF ROBERT LETTER OP ST. BERNARDFIRST It ONASTERIlt OF THE FILIATION OF CLAIRVAUXGENERAL CHAPTEJI OF THI ORDER OF OITBAUX.
Robert, Bernard's cousin, had been consecrated to God from his birth, and his parents had destmed hun for, and
promised him to the
Abbey of Cluny. But having attached himself to St. Bernard, and, in a manner, identified his soul
with his, he followed him to Citeaux, although he had not then attained his fourteenth year. Not being able to liye separated from him, he obtained the favor of remaining in the monastery without taking the habit, or even being
his youth.
admitted among the number of the novices, on account of It was two years later, at the time of the founof Clairvaux, that,
dation
by means of prayers and enthen treaties, Robert, scarcely sixteen years of age, obtained to make the solemn vows in the hands of the holy permission
abbot.
flourished
This young monk, a model of purity and candor, Hke a lily in the valley of benediction and the
;
oldest religious
child in the
Gospel
whom
our Lord presented to the Apostles as the model of Christian perfection so that he was to Bernard an object
of peculiar predilection and tenderness. The choice that Robert had made of the Order of Citeaux
had much offended the reUgious of Cluny, who beUeved that they had a right over this child. Besides this, Robert wag
rich,
and
degen-
erate monks.
They sought,
gammg him
permitted Robert to pass from Clairvaux. Furnished with this title, and profiting by the absence of Bernard, the em-
mffrORT OF ROBERT.
of the Abbot Pons, of Cluny, came to monk and persuaded him that his spiritual father
issaries
87
the young
tyrannized
over him bj an excess of austerities, and, at length, they succeeded in carrying him oflf with them without the knowledge of the Abbot of Clairvaux. easy to judge how great was the grief of Bernard, to imagine the agony of his maternal heart, when on his return
It
is
mother alone
is
capable
Bernard remained long of comprehending a grief like this. without uttering a word, reproaching hunself with having,
reqmred perhaps, discouraged this soul which might more tenderness ; and addressmg himself to God alone during
tions
have
lamentanearly a year, he entreated Him unceasingly, with and tears, to restore to him his much-loved child, the
At length, whom he had begotten in Jesus Christ going out one day into the fields with the monk Godfrey, he could no longer contain the fulness of charity, which poured He bade forth, like deep waters overflowing their banks.
son
I
the
monk
which is the burning effusion of a soul kindled with love as a of and tenderness justly regarded eloquence.* masterpiece will here translate the principal passages of it :
We
letter
"I have waited long enough, my dear son Robert, and perhaps I have waited too long, in the hope that God would deign to touch thy heart and mine, inspiring thee with sorrow
for thy fault,
ance
but since
and giving me the consolation of thy repentmy hope is vain, I can no longer hide my
wdness nor
* There
la
restrain
my
grief.
a tradition that while St. Bernard dictated this letter in the open air, a h^avy rain fell, without Bernard discontinuing or th paper being wetted. This circumstance, joined to the sumblime charcter of the letter itself, was looked upon as miraculous ; and an oratory
was afterwards built on the very spot where the saint had himself while he dictated this epistle.
MaUd
88
I
msroRT of
st.
bcrnard.
be, I come to recall him who despises me, and to ask pardon of him who ought rather to ask pardon of me. But
deep affliction dehberates not, blushes not, reasons not, fears not to debase itself ; it follows neither counsel, nor rule, nor
order, nor measure
solely with the
;
mmd
is
occupied
means of softening the evil endured, and of the recovermg good which may restore happiness. Thoi. wilt say that thou hast not despised me, that thou hast offended no one Be it so, I allow it my design is not to
1
given to him who persecutes, not to him who flies persecuI forget the past, I will not recall the motive or the ticn.
circumstances of
what
is
us two has reason to complain ; I would blot out even the remembrance of it ; I speak but of that which alone afficts
me, unhappy that I am, no longer to see thee, to be deprived of thee, to live without thee I Thou for whom death would
be
life,
and to
live
without
whom
is
death 1*
why thou didst go, I only ask thee why thou art not re* turned. Return, I pray thee, and all will be peace ; return,
and I
and
is
shall
be happy, and shall sing with joy, He was dead come to life agam, he was lost and is found I^ I will
*
grant that thy departure was my fault ; yes, I was too rigid, too severe I was not sufficiently careful of a tender and
:
dehcate youth. I might, perhaps, allege in my justification that it was my duty to use firmness in order to repress the salhes of impetuous youth, to form a young novice to virtue,
discipline,
Chastise thy son, and thou shalt save his soul.' ' For whom the Lord loveth He chas(Prov. xxiii. 13.)
:
and
6.)
He
*
(Heb. xii
scourgeth every son whom He receiveth.' Better are the wounds of a friend than the
te carco,
Mi miserum quod
quod
to rlrt
msrORT OF ROBERT.
deceitful kisses of
8|
an enemy.' (Prov. xxvii. 6.) But, once I consent to be considered the guilty one 1 . more, O ray son, consider the manner in which I endeavor to recaU
. .
thee
It
is
not by inspiring thee with the fear of a slave, who throws himself with confidence
his father
;
arms of
and, instead of
employmg
terror
and
Boul
my grief. Others might, pe;haps, try 'inother they would think that they ought to affright thee by the miage of thy sin, by the fear of the judgments of an
way
;
and cure
avengmg God.
thee,
doubtless with
the horrible apostasy which has made thee prefer afine habit, a delicate table, a rich house, to the coarse dress which thou
didst wear, to the sunple vegetables
eat, to
the poverty which thou hadst embraced. to be more easily moved by love than
who comes forward of himself to hun who trembles already to confound hun who is already confounded. Moreover, if it be strange that a young religious, full of reserve and modesty, should have dared to
thought well to press him
frighten
;
violate his vows, and quit the place of his profession, against the will of his brethren, and without the consent of his superiors,
strange
;
is it
Solomon
I
wisdom ;
Samson
Is
first
surprising that he
who found
way parents in the midst of Paradise should have seduced a young man in the midst of a frightful desert ? Agam, he has not been seduced by
the
beauty, like the ancients of Babylon
as Giezi
;
;
to corrupt our
overcome by avarice,
Apostate
only fell because he allowed himself to be dazzled by the glare of a false vhrtue, and by the counsel of some men of authority.
"
blmded by ambition,
He
iheep who
fled not,
Alas, a wolf in disguise approached a poor becauAe he knew him not What, said
90
he to him,
is
mSTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
command
digging the earth, cutting wood, and carrying the mire. Besides, why does God create meats if he has forbidden xa
the use of them ?
"Why does
own
flesh ?
Led astray by tha struck a too credulous young monk. to be led to he aUows hunself seducer, Cluny. There they cut his hair, they shave and wash him : they take away hia
coarse and
worn habit
they receive
him afterwards
they give him others very costly into the number of the reUgious
they place him above others ; they give him precedence of several elder men the whole community applauds and congratulates hun, and triumphs as for a victory, of which
;
he
is
the prize.
sweet Jesus
to ruin a poor soul ? And how could he fail to be softened by so many flatteries, puflfed up by so many distmctions?
know
one
Who
my
the truth, and remain humble ? Poor foolish then has bewitched thee so as to render thee
deaf to
prayers ?
Why
disquiet thyself
concemmg
the
father,* for
nounced, and of which thou wilt render an account to God ? In vain they will flatter thee with being absolved by the dispensation from Rome ; thou art bound by the Word of
God Himself.
to the plough
fit
for the
God.*
left this
to lead a
child
it
kingdom of moT9
;
was p-
essary, according to the rule of St. Benedict, that they should mk the solemn oblation of him, in the prescribed form, and then he wa
BI8T0RT or ROBERT.
9i
perfect,
a more austere life, remain in peace, and say with the apostle that thou forgettest what is behind to press forward towards the end, to the happiness for which God
us.
destmes
it
But
if it
be not
so,
for is
is it
from thine apostate (pardon me the word), to degenerate ancient way, either in food, or clothing, or by adopting an
idle, dissipated,
vagabond, and licentious way of life ? I do not intend to intimidate thee, but to instruct thee as a son whom I love with tenderness ; for though thou mayest have
many
me.
masters, thou hast, nevertheless, no other father than Yes, if I may be allowed to say it, it is I who have
begotten thee in religion by my lessons and example ; it is I who have nourished thee with milk, ready to give thee But alas I stronger meat if thou hadst had more strength.
that
ful
thou hast weaned thyself before the time ; and now I rear all that I have gained by my patience, rendered fruit-
by my words, strengthened by my prayers, may be and dissipated and to what am I reduced ? I deplore
;
lost
less
is
the loss of
my
;
who
losing himself
I complain that a stranger, without pain or labor, should despoil me of the glory of having formed thee. I grieve as that woman whose child was taken from her
whilst she slept,
her
to
own
and put by her companion in the place of stifled. This is what they have done
from
me
in tearing thee
;
which I weep
this is
my bosom such is the loss for what I ask to be given back to me.
;
CJould I forget
my own
offspring ?
Could I
feel
other than
when they separate from me the half Come, soldier of Jesus Christ, arise; hake the dust from off thee return to the combat, and cause the shame of thy defeat to be forgotten, by redoubling
....
tiiy
courage.
j
onto victory
There are many combatants who persevere but there are few who, after having girm
./
13
BISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
be for
me
to se
thee capable of a valor which few can reach ? Moreover, if courage fails thee, whence comes it that thou fearest
where there
is nothing to be feared, and that thou fearest not where everything is to be feared ? Dost thou hope to escape the enemy by flight? Thy house is akeady sur;
rounded
seized the outposts ; he almost upon thee, and thou and thou thinkest thyself in greater safety alone
;
the
than in the midst of thy company; without arms, than clothed in thine armor. Awake, rejoin quickly those whom
thou hast
left,
and thou
is
wilt be invincible.
...
It
is
Jesus Christ
cries to us,
*
who Have
And
war made
be against us ? Oh, blessed where neither wounds, nor defeats, nor death, nor anything, save a shameful flight, can It is lost by flight, but not by death. deprive us of victory.
if
is
God
for us,
who
shall
Happy he who
to
falls
I
he dies but
be crowned
Unhappy he who, by
flymg, abandons
both the victory and the crown I God grant, my muchloved son, that thou mayest be preserved from this misfortune,
my
words.
Should
fatal
add to thy
mediate
diately.
These earnest and piercmg words did not produce an imeffect. Perhaps they did not reach Robert inmieCertain
it is
the close of the year 1118, and that it was not till 1122 that he had the comfort of receiving once more his young disciple,
who was
sent back
by the
leam year of his administration. from one of his letters, that he not only had it at heart tt
We
HISTORY OF ROBERT.
93
of justice, but that the particular esteem perfonn this act which he felt for St. Bernard led him to send him several
other reUgious of Cluny, who wished to remove to the monastery of Clairvaux. Robert hved sixty-five years after
his return, in the
to the testimony of
most perfect observance of rule, according John the Hermit, a contemporary author,
chosen to rule the abbey of Maison Dieu,
and he was
finally
in the diocese of
Besangon. The valley of Clairvaux had long been too narrow to con-
who crowded every day in increasaround the numbers holy and paternal heart of Bernard. ing It became necessary to form fresh channels from this overtain the fervent religious,
which
In the year 1118, Clauraux gave bu*th to two houses, reflected, in a wonderful manner, the image of their
mother.
The first was established at the request of WilHam of Champeaux, in the diocese of Chalons, and received the name of the Three Fountains (Trots Fontaines). St. Bernard, according to the custom of the order, sent twelve
brethren thither, and gave them the illustrious Roger for their abbot ; the same whom he had converted at Chalons shortly
before,
for his
wisdom and
the phases
humble
all
of that of Clairvaux.
monks
to seek some place suited for theu* establishment in They stopped at Fontenay, where,
with the assistance of the mhabitants, they built a sanctuary The monk whom the Abbot
of Clairvaux placed at the head of this colony was Godfrey, one of his earliest companions. This perfect disciple of so
perfect a master, says the Chronicle, established a
life
way
of
Fonte*
14
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
nay, like Clairvaux, deserved to be called by a great pope the wonder of the world.
In all his
William of Champeaux had powerfully seconded Bernard undertakings he had himself erected the cele;
brated
Abbey
of
Canons Regular of
St.
Victor,
near
But
1118, this prelate, full of merits and of days, happily finished his course, and entered into the joy of his Lord.
At
Abbot of Citeaux,
designated
first
the beginning of the following year, Stephen, the holy assembled, in his monastery, aU the abbots
numbered twelve.
history
ecclesiastical
by
the
general chapter of Citeaux, gave a definitive form to the constitutions of the order, and regulated, in the great
Cha/rter of
were
affiliations
Chanty, the usages of all the monasteries which from Citeaux, in order to transmit them,
pure and
entire, to posterity.
The
selves under the protection of these venerable men, who were justly entitled the lofty pillars of the Church. Bernard was at this time but eight or nine and twenty but iis wisdom and experience stood him in the stead of
;
gray hairs
and such was the mastery of his mighty elo; quence over the assembly of aged men, that henceforth he
was
listened to
After his return to his monastery, he applied hunself with fresh zeal to the advancement of his brethren in perfection ;
his order,
ht
IfOTHXR
ILLinSSS.
conceived the design of laboring for the revival of the ancient monastic spirit throughout the Church, and of reestablishing everywhere the purity of the primitive times. To renovate the world by the fervor of Christian piety, and
to this end to form
men
to serve as
Holy
Spirit
such
fit
instruments of the
ardent desires.
labors, without
obliged a second time to leave his beloved community, and to suspend his laborious ministry for a season. This separation was to
frail constitution.
He was
sacrifice
and had the heavy trial inactive, and to reUnquish a number of works at
commencement.
But this sickness formed part of the design of Providence, and concurred in the preparation of a new
cell, m which the holy monk lay upon was to be the centre of a sphere of paUet, action which, daily widening farther and farther, was to
order of things
the
his miserable
CHAPTER X
ANOTHER ILLNESS OF
ST.
BERNARDVISIONFBUITB OF HII
RETIREMENT.
slackness,
common souls, an occasion of weakness and which relax the springs of the spiritual life. To strong souls it is, on the contrary, an exercise of courage and patience, by means of which the Christian overcomei himself, tames his inferior nature, and learns to imitate
Sickness is, to
t$
the patience of
HISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Him who
suffered for us
to
Imvt us a^
by
once more
to isolate himself from his brethren, and abstain from all active exertion, entered, so to speak, into the spirit of this
fulfilled its duties with a masculine and magnanimous courage. Believing himself to be useless to all, and struck as it were with barrenness, he renounced himself more entirely than ever, took up his cross, and
mated him with hope, and filled him with joy. But the more closely death grasped this extraordinary man, and threatened to strip him of his natural life, the more did the
spu"it of
God
of his souL
One
no longer able to bear up against them, he called two of his brethren, and begged them to go to the church and ask some relief of God. The brethren, touched with compassion,
prostrated themselves before the altar, and prayed with great abundance of tears. During this time, Bernard had a vision,
delight.
panied by St. Lawrence and St. Benedict, under whose mvocation he had consecrated the two side altars of his
"The serenity of their church, appeared to the sick man. of "seemed the expression WUham St. faces," says Thierry, of the perfect peace which surrounds them in heaven." They
manifested themselves so distinctly to the servant of God, that he recognized them as soon as they entered his cell. The Virgin Mary, as well as the two saints, touched with
their sacred
hands the parts of Bernard^s body where the and, by this holy touch, he was imme;
from
his
malady
ii.
and the
saliya,
which
till
1 Pet.
81.
FRurrs OT
ma
retirimiot.
91
then had been flowing from his mouth in a continuous stream, ceased at the same time.
St.
taken from him the expectation of approachmg death. He aw hunself standmg on the sea-shore, waiting for a ship in
which to embark
but the
ship,
which seemed
still
to
ap
proach the land, vainly attempted to reach it, and at last This disappeared, without Bernard bemg able to embark.
dream, confirmed by a marvellous vision, seemed to announce to the saint that the time of his departure from this world
his constitution,
and
admmister the
and glory.
It
was at
the
first
and of pride ; and this work, which he published, became a source of trouble and
opposition to him.
path by replacing it on the basis of the mterior and life, founding it on ascetical experience, justified and confirmed by the Word of God. Humility is the point whence he set forth it is, accordmg
long-lost
to him, the condition of acquiring the science of truth. But it pre-supposes the knowledge of truth, for it is formed in
three
ways
by
ledge of our neighbors, and by the knowledge of the absolute Truth. This being laid down, he shows the reciprocal relations of the different degrees of science with the corresponding
degrees of humility ; whence he deduces, with great logical force, the twelve degrees of humihty of St. Benedict's rule,
pride.
18
HISTOIT OF
ST.
BERNASt
This work, begun for the instruction of monks, was imme* iiately followed by another, which is simply a collection of
four homilies,
Missus Est.
last tract,
commonly known under the name of Super Bernard called them. Praises of Mary. Thia the production of a loTmg and tender heart, was
read in the history only to be appreciated by loving souls. of Citeaux the account of the violent attacks to which St.
We
Bernard was exposed. "As there will be always people in the world," says the historian, "who have no greater pleasare than to carp at the works of others, and pass rigid
censures upon them, there were persons
treatise
obnoxious to the censure of the curious, even illustrious and celebrated doctors had some fault to find with it."
Among
But
to St. Bernard, and asked an explanation of certain difficult He was the only person also, to whom St. Ber passages.
nard made any reply; for hitherto he had preserved an humble and constant silence. But, in his letter to Hugh, he
sets the seal of humility
that virtue,
by retracting a passage
He declares further, that in speaking of the angels he had ventured an opinion which he had not found in the ancient Fathers. "Nevertheless," adds he, "though the explanawe give of the words of Scripture be not drawn from the holy Fathers, they are not therefore unlawful, provided they be not contrary to the sentiments of the Fathers and
tions
llie rules
of the faith."
and, perhaps, even because of these discussions, by which th enemies of St. Bernard sought to bring discredit upon him in
^his
celeb
99
versal assent.
works were spread abroad, and soon obtained uniMany wished to see the man whose writings,
and hence the great number of visitors who from this time followed each other to Clairvaux. They were never wearied
of admiring the humble monk who, still in early youth, had peopled the desert with a numerous troop of angels rather than men ; and who, from the depth of his retreat, cast fortl^
BO sweet a light over the whole Church.
k^
He
was regarded,
from that time forward, as a saint ; he was cited as the model of religion, the glory of the priesthood, the scourge
of heretics.
Still sick
pulpit,
he
which the Bishop of Chalons had caused to be built for him and then, although deeply enlived apart in the
same
gaged
on eternal truths, he was accessible to and received without distinction, and with a serene every one, and affectionate cordiality, all those who came to see and
in meditation
consult
in
hhn upon all kinds of affairs. Hardly a day passed*/ which he did not receive either new guests, or letters which
required long answers. \_5e often sighed in secret over this But he multiplicity of cares which left him no repose.
^
/
remembered
also that
;
not, /"
remain inactive
and that to
is
our
own
repose to oui
^
neighbor's peace,
to serve
God and
This sincere charity, joined to a complete self-abnegation and a rare capacity for business, drew to him a great number of persons of consideration, who made him the umpire of
thwr
differences.
Priests
him
the
and
princes,
and laymen alike came to consult prelates, and even kings, had recourse to
His
light
man
of
God
as to an oracle.
began to shine
undertaking
was acceptable to him ^mflamed his zeal, excited in him an and whenever he undertook earnest and devoted sympathy
;
Every
it
deeply to heart
100
and prosecuted
urged them,
the
it
BISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
most mgenious
with an oppressor, or to maintain the rights of innocence and Justice, he became inflexible as a rock, and his will was ai
firm as
an immovable
letters.
pillar.
*'
He
acknowledges
this himself
one of his
The way
that which
gentleness,
lessly
is
most habitual to me
oil
and the
the strength of
tice
upon them, we must use stronger remedies, and employ wme for if the enemies of holiness and jus;
have hardened brows, ours must be harder still ; because there is nothing so hard but it will yield to that which ia
and God himself, speaking to the prophet Ezekiel, ; * He will give him a brow harder than that promises this " of his enemies.'
harder
is
results.
We
two examples
himself.
Thibald, Count of Champagne, a just and virtuous prince, had, in consequence of false reports, confiscated the property of one of his vassals ; and, refusing to listen to his justificar tion, he banished him, and reduced him to such a state of
misery that his wife and children were obUged to beg their This unfortunate vassal, whose name was Humbert, bread.
had exhausted all his endeavors in vam to appease his prince ; he came at last to Clairvaux, and besought the holy abbot to intercede for him. Bernard, touched with compassion,
first
of Champagne, on behalf of
had no
effect,
name, to the Count but as their letter " I am he wrote himself, in these words :
write, in his
Humbert
FBurra of
grateful for the interest
it is
ms
retibement.
101
m my ilhiess because
;
inspired
by
God
God, and loving me for God's Bake, you should refuse a favor which God alone had inspbed
to be surprised that, loving
me
to ask of you.
Assuredly, if I had asked you for gold, or silver, or some other favor of that kind, you would not have refused me.
"
Why,
then, do
my sake
God
threatening of
Justices
than your own ? Know you not that The time cometh when I will judge
'
V
is
How much
written
which
others
'
more mjustices ? Do you not fear that With the samt measure that you mete to
you
shall be
measured
Do you
doubt whether
it
be
easier to
God
V
his subject
This
letter,
of which
immediate
effect.
we cite only a smgle passage, had an The Count of Champagne examined into
hhn
possessions. But the prmce's advisers, interested in the maintenance of the former sentence, raised
in his rights
obstacles in the
way
of Humbert's restoration.
St.
Bernard
" then wrote to him again : What faithless counsellor hath to shake the invincible firmness of your soul by attempted
his
base advice
traitor,
a dangerous courtier,
I
his passions.
Whoever he be, he is a false friend, a who sacrifices your honor to conjure you, by the mercy of God, to pre-
vent the impious from triumphing over the affliction of the poor, and deign to command that restitution be made with-
This aflFair was hardly accomplished, when St. Bernard had to make the truth known, on another occasion, to the Count of Champagne. This prince had made very severe
regolatioQa to repress the intolerable abase of judicial com'
102
bats
HIStORT OP
ST.
BERNARD.
still imbued with the prejudices of the St. severely on the victims of these duels. Bernard complains of this to Count Thibald : " It is but a
;
and laws,
fell
middle ages,
short time since, in a duel which took place in presence of the Provost of Bar, the vanquished combatant was condemned by your sentence to lose his eyes. But as if he
were not already unfortunate enough in his defeat and losi of sight, your officers have also taken possession of his Yet you are bound in charity to leave him property.
wherewithal to support his sad and languishing existence Besides, the fault of the father ought not to be visited upon
the children, nor should
ance.'^
it
The frankness of
which he raised
St.
same time accompanied by such profound meekness and perfect disinterestedness, that his words had the authority of an
The young abbot had retamed from his early eduoracle. cation a noble refinement of tone and manner, and a delicacy of language which, added to his mental endowments, sponEvery look, every movement, taneously won all hearts. shed the glory of grace, benevolence, heavenly life, around " He his person ; and every word of his bore its ftniit. " had always," says an ancient author, consolation for the afflicted, help for the oppressed, counsel for the troubled in
mind
a resource
sick-
ness."
So many
virtues
and enunent
the service of the Church, could not remain hidden ; they shone more and more brightly every day ; and, at the period of which we are now writing, the name of St. Bernard ig
seen to
beam
His correspondence attests the relations subsisting betry. tween him and the j^incipal personages of his time, not only
FStJirs
Of HIS BJCTIR&MEKT.
103
Jb France,
but
in Italy,
They came
edifying spectacle, many miracles were spoken of as haying been wrought by the samt. It was well known that a child from the neighborhood of Clairvaux had been presented to
Bernard
in
his
arm was
para-
lyzed, his
hand withered.
Bernard prayed, made the sign of and restored him to his mother perextraordinary cure was wrought on afterwards becaroft a reli-
no
less
rich
gious,
man, to a day.
whom Bernard
seven times
Bernard prayed for him whom he loved so much. From that moment, Humbert was cured, and never agam to
the end of his
It
is
life
Laon, on the day of the dedication of the new church of the monastery, which he had founded there, this church waa filled
with so incredible a multitude of
flies,
way
Exam;
The next day they were all found dead and theh" number was so great that they blackened the pavement, and were carried out of the church m shovels. To which a chronicler adds, that "this miracle was so weli
mwnicdbe tas
known, and so celebrated, that the curse of the flies of Foigny passed into a proverb among the people around, who had
come from
church."
all
One
parts to assist at the dedication of thia day, several knights, on their way to a tour-
104
the monastery.
BISTOBT or
It
ST.
BEBNAHa
;
and Ber-
hia nard, whfle he lavished the duties of hospitality upon extreme pain he felt to guests, did not conceal from them the see
young Christians
full
when the Church is mourning in retirement " I ask a truce of and penance. you,'' said he, "till after the Lent." But knights, unpatient to distmguish themholy
ion of the year
selves at the tournament, could not resolve to accede to his
desire.
" I shall ask this In that case," said St. Bernard, that I shall confidence firm a and I have of God, grace He then ordered wme to be served to them, obtain it." "
blessed the cup,
souls
I"
They drank, and soon afterwards took leave of But they had scarcely set forth when the holy abbot. their consciences began to trouble them, and they communicated to each other the emotions they experienced, and the strange anxiety of their minds. What they had seen and
heard at Clairvaux absorbed them entirely; and tears of comregret and tenderness moistened their eyes when they
lives pared the vanity of then* Uves with the grave and holy of these servants of God. All, with one accord, turned back
again
and, mfluenced
by a holy desire
and stripped off their armor, laid aside then* rich garments, to consecrate themprostrated themselves at Bernard's feet,
selves to
God.
warfare of the children of tranquil exercise of the spiritual " Some Jesus Christ. among them," adds the biographer,
*'
are
still
God
been delivered in thii reign with Christ in heaven, having world from the bonds of their mor^ bodies."
OBOWTH OF GLAIBTAUZ.
10^
CHAPTER
I.ABOBS or ra.
XI.
Meek and
him
;
simple, calm,
Bernard, in proporincreas-
saw
himself the
more
intensely within,
ing watchfulness, the living and ceaseless conmiunication of his soul with God. Love, hke a bright and consuming fire,
neutralized in
popularity, while, at the
unction, clearness,
him the dangerous influence of an immense same time, it endued his words with
and strength.
His
disciples, daily increas-
ing
and, not; withstanding the successive enlargements of the buildmg, the monastery could no longer contam the multitude of new monks, whose number now amounted to seven hundred. The
elder
to give
up
Church, the novices alone bemg admitted to say office there. The seeds of so abundant a harvest could not fail to be carried far
and wide.
On
formed
in the school
of St. Bernard were sought after ; and that province counted itself fortunate which could obtain some of these men, so rich
in virtue,
them
Paris, Chalons,
in Flanders,
boasted offshoots
Mayence, Liege, Germany, Italy, and Guienne, already from Clairvaux and from the year 1122
;
several
Bernard had been travellmg into different countries to found establishments, and connect them together by the sacred
bonds of ChristiaQ brotherhood.
6*
His
cares, far
from over*
106
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
whelming his frail existence, seemed, on the contrary, to fill him with ever-increasing strength. He had become the to use Boul and centre of the whole order of Citeanx, and
the words of one of his ancient biographers as rivers return to the sea whence they came forth, so all, whether of good or
evil,
fail
to him,
by the tidings he received from them, and the advice he gave them m return. But besides these labors ^besides his
journeys, and the vast correspondence which he kept up with the houses of his order, with the prelates who sought his advice, with learned men who consulted him on doubtful
qaestions,
to him
the multitudes who opened their consciences found time to write long letters to his friends, and to send them treatises whitn he composed for their
mth
^he
benefit.
It
is
heart, that the spirit of St. Bernard should especially be will quote here the celebrated letter which he studied.
We
addressed, in 1122, to the religious of the great Chartreuse, near Grenoble ; we shall admire therein his sweet serenity
amidst the most overwhelming occupations, as well as the Bublime height of contemplation to which he rises. The
length of this letter compels us to abridge it: " Brother Bernard, of Clairvaux, wishes eternal salvation
to his most venerable fathers and most dear friends, Gui-
community.
*'
long desiring a ray, methought, of that which our Lord brought upon earth. Oh, what must be the fire of that divine
my soul
it.
As
I read
it,
the more joy, that I have bee I felt a fire kindling withi/j
charity with which God consumes your hearts, since the iparks which issue from it are so intense I Blessed be you, of the Lord, far your goodness in writing to me first, and
HIS LABORS.
lot
my
turn
I should
much
I might have
and perpetual
silence
is
bolder than I
tenderest friendships ; and when she knocks at the door, no Oh, how happy I am, to have paid repulse is to be feared.
a passing visit to your dear mountains, whence I have derived 80 mighty an aid I Yes, I shall ever number among my
most solemn seasons, and everiastingly commemorate, that day on which I first found a home in your hearts."
After this loving preface,
love,
St.
and the
'
different degrees
.
by which we ascend to
Love is that eternal love/ says St John.* law which created the universe and which, by its wisdom, rules and governs it. And nothing is without this law, not
is
;
"
God
even that supreme law of which I speak which, all uncreated as it is, receives a law from itself. But the slave and
;
the hireling
make
the Lord, inasmuch as the one loves not God, and the other
loves something else
selves a particular
but they cannot make it independent of the unchangeable order which the eternal law has
law
established.
tor,
by
imitate, or, as it were, parody the Creaas a law to themselves, and taking their own serving
They
But
this
yoke
is
heavy and
his
insupportable
for
it
is
an
every
man who
;
becomes
own
he
tyrant
and,
by shaking
off the
falls,
necessarily,
wn wilL
under the overpowering weight of hia As, therefore, we are carnal, and bom of conciv
* 1 John
iv. 16*
108
BISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
must inevitably begin by the flesh but be guided by order and by grace, it will rise, by progres;
Thus,
man
be-
gins
by loving
he
is
carnal,
and has no
not stand done, he is forced to have recourse to God, to seek Him by faith ; and he loves Him as a good necessary
to himself.
In
this
it is
true
but he loves him for hunself, and not yet for God. urged by his own necessities, he continues seeking
is
Lastly,
God
he
occupied with Him in his thoughts, his meditations, his so that by this comreading, in the practice of obedience
merce and
to
familiarity, if
kuow God
may so express myself, he learns better, and thereby finds Him to be more and
I
more worthy of love. He tastes how sweet the Lord is, and thus he passes on to the third degree, in which he loves
God for His own sake, and no longer in relation to himself. The fourth degree will be certainly attained when the faithful
servant shall enter into the joy of his God, and be ine-
Then
shall this
holy
ecstacy plunge him into an entire forgetfulness of and he will be henceforth oae spirit with God."
St.
himself,
let-
ter, the sentiments of love and esteem which he bore to the That order had arisen a few religious of the Chartreuse.
years before that of Citeaux, and, both following a similar way of hfe, had developed in solitude, amid persecution and
suffering.
For
end of the year 1123, being unable longer to resist theii solicitations, he took advantage of a journey which he wa#
compelled by the interests of his order to undertake, to go to Grenoble, where St. Hugh, who was then bishop of the
diocese, received
0ABTH178UK8.
lOf
extreme old age, prostrated himself before the Abbot of Caairvaux, who was then only in his thirty-second year ;
two children of light," says a contemporary united together so as to form but one head and one soul, being linked and bound together by the indissoluthese
"and
"
writer,
ble
bonds of the charity of Jesus. They both experienced Queen of Sheba when she visited Kmg
each being delighted to find in the other far more than fame had reported of him."
Solomon
The servant of God, accompanied by several monks, hastened to climb the rocks and wild mountains, on the summit of which the Carthusians had placed their cross and their
cells.
This
visit
that the
centuries
memory
of
caused so deep and joyful an impression, it remains fresh and vivid to this day
its traces.
An anecdote is, however, recorded of this memorable which must not be omitted. of the Carthusians
[One
prior, as it is said, of the
brilliant
monastery ^was scandalized at the equipage of St. Bernard. He arrived, in fact, mount;
the
visit,
ed on a horse magnificently caparisoned and this appearance of luxury had painfully aflFected the good religious, who could not understand such ostentation in a monk professing
The Carthupoverty, and having the reputation of a saint. who could not conceal his sian, feelings, opened his mind to
a
monk
thoughts.
and frankly told him his But the holy Abbot of Clairvaux, havmg been
upon
riding, ingenuously
it,
monk
of Cluny
who had
to
him
This
what an extent
St. Ber-
nard had mortified his senses, greatly rejoiced and edified the
(Noas commmiity.^l
10
BISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
At
the same time, the beginning of the year 1123, Ber first journey to Paris, whither he was smnafifairs
moned by the
in the capital,
of his order.
his
He
where
He yielded to this invitation, and philosophy and theology. having to speak before a numerous assembly, he prepared himwith care, and pronounced a learned dissertation on the most sublime questions of philosophy. But when he had finished his discourse, the audience remained cold and unmoved
self
;
St.
Bernard withdrew
he shut
himself up in an oratory, where he sighed and wept abunOn the morrow, St. Bernard presented dantly before God.
himself again in the same school ; " but this time," says the author of the Exordium of Citeaux, "the Holy Spuit spoke
by
his
course
w^!*4i
mouth, and guided his lips and the admirable dishe pronounced made such an impression that
;
being deeply moved by it, placed themunder his direction, and followed him to Clairvaux, there to serve God under his guidance.^'
many
ecclesiastics,
selves
CHAPTER
XII.
DEATH OP GAULDRY.
Bernard returned
the government of the spoils, and immediately resumed his himself, example and his daily by monastery applying
preaching, to the instruction of his brethren, and theu^ perBut the spiritual cares to fection in the way of the saints.
zeal,
rent his providing also for the material wants of the country
Ill
seasons of distress
A long drought,
followed by a terri;
ble famine,
and
this scourga
now
falling heavily
always cruel when pressed by hunger, broke out into unretramed murmurs and threats. In this sad condition God
ieemed to renew at Clairvaux the miracle which he wrought This desert, thanks to the provident formerly in Egypt.
care of St. Bernard, became a very granary of plenty to all Burgundy ; and we read that St. Bernard adopted as many
as three thousand poor men,
whom
This example port them as long as the famine should last.* was followed by the neighboring monasteries, and brought exjraordmary supplies to the province.
QSuch was
tlie
noble use
made
frugality of the religious and the piety of the faithful caused to abound ha monasteries. Religion, which makes itself all
all men, administered the public funds during the of nations ; she gave back as interest what she minority secured as capital ; she received the superfluity of the rid
things to
to satisfy the wants of the poor ; and, thanks to monastic institutions, the evil of mendicity was never, in the middle
what it has become in our times. ^ This was, however, but an accessory to the greater ben Nol fits which society derived from the monastic system.
age,
Not long ago a similar fact occurred in Switzerland, which was reby the inhabitants of the place. It is well known that th Capuchin Fathers live wholly upon alms, and that, in times of distress, when in want of necessaries, they ring their alms-bell, which never
lated to us
appeals in vain to public charity. During the famine of 1816, the village of Domach, near Basle, being in absolute destitution, the bell of
the convent was rung, and brought in such abundant supplies that th Cupuchins were enabled to feed the whole village, and a number of
tiie
This
is
119
mSTOST OF
St.
BSRNAK).
by the
cnltivation of
life
and benedio-
recall
it touches upon a question now in debate, and will to relate a beautiful trait of St. Bernard's occasion give
because
life.
tion, in
in the true sense of the word, houses of correcwhich criminals were not only confined to prevent them from injuring others, but were subjected to the vivify-
They were,
ing action of rehgion, which alone can change the morals, by transforming the heart. Hence, the facility with which
monks obtained the pardon of a criminal on condition that they should detain him in their convent, and answer for him to society. St. Bernard loved these works of mercy, and
often obtained most remarkable results from them.
One
day, as he was going to visit the Count of Champagne, he met the sad procession which was leading a malefactor to
self hito
Bernard, touched with compassion, threw himthe midst of the crowd, and took hold of the cord " Trust this man to me,^* by which the criminal was bound. said he, "I wish to hang him with my own hands." And
his death.
he led hun by the cord to the palace of the Count of Cham" pagne. At this sight, the terrified prince exclaimed : Alas,
reverend Father, what are you domg ? You do not know that this is an infamous wretch who has deserved hell a
thousand times already. Would you save a devil V^ But Bernard gently replied " No, prince I do not come to ask you to leave tWs unhappy man unpunished. On tlM
:
OONVERSION OF HOMBELIKS.
contrary,
US
his crimes
by a speedy death.
I desire that his punishment should last as long as his life, and that he should endure the torments of the cross to the end of his days." The prince was
;
iilent
St.
clothed the
crimmal with
and brought him to Clairvaux, where " this " was changed into a lamb ;" he wolf," says the chronicle, and he well deserved that name was called ConstarUine,
;
more than thirty years, and died at last at Clairvaux, in a most edifying manner. Such conversions were not unfrequent, and the elementi of the monastic orders, which purified the modern world, presented the most marvellous mixture of all that was brightest and most hideous, purest and most vile, m society.
for he persevered for
Convents were sacred asylums cities of refuge whither those retired whom the world renounced, as well as those
in
the world ; they buried themselves together grave, to rise again together to a new life ; " thus realizing the words of the prophet The wolf shall dwell with the lamb ; the leopard shall lie down with the
kid
the
calf,
and a
little
we
These things happened about the year 1124. But before pursue the course of time, we wUl narrate two facts which
We
have not
for-
gotten HombeUne, his sister, who was Uving amid the pomps of the world, its varieties, and its pleasures. This noble lady,
on hearing of the great reputation of her brother, came one day to pay him a visit, with a grand equipage. She stopped
at the gate of the monastery, and asked to speak to the reve rend Abbot of Clairvaux. But he, disliking the luxury which
make up
his
mind
ta
114
also.
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNAa.
On
this,
know
am
a sinner
Jesus Christ die for such persons as I am ? If my broihei despises my body, let not the servant of God despise my soul.
Let him come, let him command, let him order him I will do whatever he desires me."
;
I will obey
At
and St. Bernard presents himself, accompanied by his brothers. He had a serious conversation with Hombeline he recon;
ciled her
with God, and gave her for the rule of her hfe that which her mother had kept during her mamed hfe. Hombeline, struck
full
of joy, returned
home
entu-ely changed by the power of grace ; and afterwards, being free from the marriage bond, she took the reUgious
veil,
and died
in the
odor of sanctity.*
Hiis conversion, according to the testimony of historians, caused a hvely sensation among the ladies of the world, and
became an example to many others. But the joy which it occasioned to St. Bernard was dimmished by the loss of
Gauldry, his uncle, the first of his companions, who died this Of the circumstances of his death interyear at Clairvaux.
esting particulars are recorded.
" After Gauldry had lived some years at CIau*vaux, in of spirit and ardent zeal for the practice of every fervor great But about virtue, he passed from this life to a happier world.
an hour before
dered,
his death,
of a contemporary author
he shud-
whole body trembled in a frightful manner, after which he became calm, and expired with a serene and
his
and
tranquil countenance.
*
Some writers say she was married to a brother of the Duchess of Lorrune. The day of her death is mentioned in the AiuuJs of Citeanx.
gt tiM date, Slst Au(^., 1141.
RIMAREABLE CONTEltSIONS.
abbot,
116
grieved at this occurrence, to remain its cause. of Gauldry appeared to him one night in ignorant a dream, and when he questioned him as to his present state, he replied that he was perfectly happy. Then the saint
asked him what was the cause of the horrible agitation which ne had suffered before his death, and Gauldry told him that
at that very
moment two
devils
him
having come to his aid, the demons had relaxed their hold on him, and that he had experienced no further trouble."
of the religious, after their death, was by and the history of Citeaux relates numerous examples, to which we may probably have occasion to recur.
The apparition
;
no means rare
CHAPTER XIIL
REMARKABLE CONVERSIONSSUGER, ABBOT OP
ST. DENIS HENRY ARCHBISHOP OP SENS-STEPHEN, BISHOP OP PARISDISPUTES Of THE LAST WITH KING LOUIS LE GROS.
cites
Truth, Uke light, wounds the feeble sight, and at first exa movement of repulsion but though it may be impeded
;
solemn promulgation at first, nothing can extinguish its brilhancy, nor hinder its final triumph through the worM Thus St. Bernard's " Ajpology,^^ which he published about
in its
violent reaction in all directions yet aroused more than one conscience, and laid up in men's souh a seed of grave and fruitful words,
this time,
;
had excited a
it
duced salutary
effects.
One
Suger, Abbot of
St. Denis,
Gros.
116
"
HISTORY OF
it
ST.
BERKHD.
eyes," said St. Bernard,
with
it
my own
was
sur-
I
dis-
ask,
how can
God
amidst such
orders ?"
in
the monastery through concessions made to the spirit of the world ; and in the time of Suger this celebrated abbey was
queen made long and brilliant visits. The monks of St. Denis had been for a long time habituated to this sort of life, and had preserved nothmg of their
vocation but
its
But
Suger, amidst all his prosperity, was neither happy nor at His noble and upright soul, however he might be ease.
stunned by the engrossing effect of business and pleasure, remained open to the voice of truth, and possessed a deep
sense of the dignity of the Christian character.
^^
He
had
heard divers opinions of the famous Apology ^^^ and, at length, he examined it for himself. As he read, a ray of grace touched his heart, and made it tremble. He blushed for
shame
laxation in consequence of his example, aroused themselves The house soon assumed a new aspect, and the at his voice.
But
St.
He
wrote to Suger,
congratulating him, and compared his success to that of the " When the valiant captain," said he, general of an army
:
men
recoil,
REMIBEABLI CONYERSIONS.
Ill
enemy are cntting them in pieces, he prefers to die with them rather than survive with dishonor, though he might avoid the
danger.
ing
For
this reason
he stands firm
enemy
and
his
sword he inflames the courage of his followers. He confronts him who strikes, he defends him who is about to perish. In
despairmg of saving all, he would at least die for each ; and whilst he attempts to arrest the progress of the conquershort,
or, whilst
it
he
raises those
who
fall,
fly,
sometimes happens that his valor, contrary to all expectaIn turn, he disperses the forces of the tion, turns the tide.
;
enemy
and
his warriors,
the
Most High
1
Yes, this wonderful change is the work of Heaven rejoices at the conversion of one
sinner
How much
and
such a house as yours The Saviour is angry with those who convert a house of prayer into a den of thieves He
;
will bless
him who
restores to
abode,
who
changes an arsenal into a heaven, and out of a school of Satan makes a school of Jesus Christ."
The
in the
thriUing words of St. Bernard did not resound only bosom of the monastic orders they stirred also the
;
hearts of the high secular clergy, and recalled worldly bishops into the apostolic path.
first
who opened
his
Resolved to put an heart to the holy monk of Clau-vaux. end to a kmd of life unworthy of a prelate but too much
engrossed with exterior things to comprehend the extent of the pastoral obUgations ^he wrote to St. Bernard to ask for some instructions upon the duties of the episcopate. This
"
Who am
I,"
118
"
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD.
exclaimed he, that I should dare to teach a bishop? and, how can I dare to refuse him ? The same reason in yet,
clines
me
;
to grant and to
refjise.
is
There
is
danger on both
St.
Bides
but,
no doubt, there
most
in disobedience."*
Bernard then dispatched to the archbishop, under the form of a letter, a treatise on the duties of bishops. It contams
truths
and
details of matters
analysis of
The
pastors.
letter begins
whence arise simony, are the gnaw body of the Church. After this he thus addresses the archbishop idea, having developed hunself : "As to you, bishop of the Most High, whom do
the two wounds which
Ambition and
you
desire to please
the
world, or
God
If the world,
wherefore are you a priest ? If God, why are you a worldly cannot serve two masters at once. To desire priest ?
We
is
to declare oneself an
enemy
if
of God.
For, in short,
the priest be the shepherd, if the people are his flock, is it reasonable that there should be no distinction seen between
If my pastor imitates me, who am one of his sheep, ? he walk with his back bent, his face looking downwards, his eyes turned towards the earth, seeking to fill his belly
hem
if
is
famished, where
is
Is
it fitting
Uke a
brute beast, to grovel in the dust, to tie himself down to the earth, mstead of living according to the spirit, and seeking
end tasting the things of heaven ? The poor murmur. four horses, say they, amble under housings studded with
.
we walk barefooted
your
placed
amount
is entitled
lU
males are richly caparisoned, adoraed with buckles, chains and long trappings, shining with golden nails and jewwhilst els, you refuse to your neighbor wherewithal to cover
bells,
his nakedness
Tell us,
bishop, of
what use
is
gold,
we
say not in the temples, but upon the harness of your horses Though I did not name these disorders, the misery of the
Sens,
Abbot
nard
;
Suger, greatly augmented the reputation of St. Berand, from this time, he had to defend hunself agamst
all sides.
The
city
were vacant at
this time,
At a later period he waa cept any ecclesiastical dignity. declared Archbishop of Rheims, by the election of the clergy, and the acclamations of the faithful ; but he decidedly refused this dangerous post, and was even obliged to have recourse to the authority of Rome, that he might not be forced to yield to the persevering desh-es of this noble Church,
A mission of
Lary vocation,
man
of God.
now presented fresh food to the zeal of the The Bishop of Paris, Stephen de Senlis, a
and especial friend of the king, had been touched by the preaching and the writings of St. Bernard ; but the example of Suger and the Archbishop of Sens had produced so
courtier
an impression on his mind, that, putting an end to his long hesitation, he left the court, that he might henceforward
vivid
who
phen, and had heaped favors upon him, in order to retain him near his person. This prince, whose character was imperious and u-ascible, could not endure contradiction
affection
;
the
120
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
changed to hatred ; and, before long, he excited perpetua. annoyances around him, and persecuted him with ever-increas-
mg violence. Some clerics whom the bishop had displeased, by the re-establishment of a more severe discipline, aggravated the king^s displeasure against him, and succeeded, at last, by means of intrigues and false reports, to cause their bishop
to be brought before the secular authority, which deprived hun of his property.* Until this time the prelate had borne
ill treatment with unalterable patience ; but he thought that he ought not to abandon the wealth of his church to the will of the temporal power ; and after having, in vain, tried remonstrances and threats, he laid the kmg under an
this
interdict, and,
The two
prelates
went together
to Citeaux, where the great Chapter of the abbots of the order was then assembled. They declared their grievances to
this venerable meeting,
and demanded
name of
all
it
should
be presented to huu by St. Bernard and Hugh de Pontigny St. Bernard drew up this address, which was as follows : " Stephen, Abbot of Citeaux, and the General Chapter of abbots and religious of the same congregation, wish to the
most
illustrious Louis,
King of France,
of Jesus Christ.
" The King of angels and of men has given you a kingdom npon earth, and has promised you another in heaven, if you
reign with justice here below.
ceive
it,
We wish
But,
that you
may
re-
and we ask
it
for you.
why do
you, at this
their animosity go
Mabillon asserts that the malcontents were reported to have &r as to attempt the life of their bishop.
omtM
THB BISHOP OF
PARIS.
121
you who humble earnestness How ? with such them formerly sought
time, so strongly resist the effect of our prayers,
we raise our hands towards the Spouse of the Church, when you are grievmg her so boldly, and without any cause ? The Church is now attacked by the prince who was formerly
shall
her defender.
It
is
Do
not the Bishop of Paris, but it heaven and earth the terrible God
the Supreme
gives
life
Lord
of
who
and takes
despises
it
away
who,
in short,
who
"We
tion
counsel
you,
by the
fraternal rela-
which you desu:e should subsist between us (a relation which you have violated on this occasion), to put an end to
But if we have the this great scandal as soon as possible. misfortune not to.,be heard, if you reject the advice of youp
brethren, who, each day, offer up their prayers for you, for your children, for your kingdom, know that our lowliness, all powerless as it is, will not forget the interests of the
Church, and of its minister, the venerable Bishop of Paris, our father and om* friend. He complains to poor monks of a powerful kmg, and prays of us, by the tie of brotherhood
that exists between us, to write to the
Pope on
it
his behalf.
fitting to
But
before
we do
this,
we have thought
most
address ourselves directly to your Excellency. "If God mspire you to follow our advice, and accept our mediation, to reconcile yourself to your bishop, or, more
properly, to
God
Himself,
we
shall
sort of fatigue,
please, provided But if our advances are only we may obtain this result. not accepted, we shall know how to assist our friend, and
The holiness of these monks, says a modem historian, must have made a deep impression on the mind of the king,
for
ft
letter,
written with so
to irritatt
122
him.
BISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
But he was, on
their firmness
;
prayen
more, he was alarmed at the anathema with which he was threatened. The fear that the
and
and
this
promised to restore to Stephen the patrimony of which he had deprived him. But these good dispositions lasted but a
short time, and
for the Pope having became once more the object Stephen of the monarch's unjust resentment. BeHeving that he was
had no
beneficial result
taken
Pope did not punish, he left the wealth of the city of Paris under sequestration, and paid no further attention to the earnest entreaties of the abbots
St.
of Citeaux.
the
Bernard and
Hugh
de Pontigny mformed
Pope of the state of things. They did not hesitate to write to him that the honor of the Church had been sacrificed
Ah-eady," they added, the humihty, or, rather, the firmness of the bishops appeased the anger of the king, when the authority of the
"
"had
sovereign Pontiff
bishops."
letter, "is
.
,
came
in
to
"Your
brief," they
the cause not only of their retaining what they it also renders them bolder in robbing what
The obstinacy of the king proved fatal to hun. St. Bernard had vainly, on several different occasions, exhorted
hun to peace. "You have despised the terrible God, by despising the supplications of His bishops," said he to him one day, with
all
the boldness of a prophet. "Well, then, expect the Your eldest son chastisement which your crime deserves. will be taken away ^he will die an early death."
This prediction was followed by the event. Philip, the presumptive heir to Louis VI., who had already received
THE BISHOP OP
the royal unction,
PARIS.
128
and who was the object of the love and all France, was killed,
fall
Boon afterwacds, by a
from
his horse, in
1131.
The unhappy king was struck with consteraation, but peace was restored to the Church of Paris.
Suger himself thus of Louis le Gros:"
"Two
day
in
"
Life
years
Abbot
teen,
young
prince,
six-
a faubourg of the city of Paris (Rue du Martroy St. Jean, near the Greve) ; suddenly a detestable little pig threw himself into the way of the horse ;
was
he suddenly
fell,
threw
and
raise
stifled
him by the weight of his body. All hurried to the half dead and tender youth, and to carry him into
this
;
a neighboring house. Towards night he expired. On very day the army had been assembled for an expedition
that
all
so
As
and poured forth sighs and groans. and mother, and their friends,
CHAPTER XIY
CONTINUATION OF THE FORMERCONVERSION OF THE DUCHESS 01 LORRAINE, OF BEATRICE, OF ERMENGARDE, COUNTESS OF BRBTAGNETHE VIRGIN SOPHIAPRINCE HENRY OF FRANCEAMADEUS, PRINCE OF GERMANY.
Christianity has, like the ancient people of God, its deplorable epochs, in which kings and people, and even th ministers themselves, appear to be clothed in vue^ as the
prophet says, like a garment. Their unfaithfulness had long igo opened the sanctuary to the passions of men \ avaric
124
HISTORY OF
idol of the
;
ST.
BERNABD.
princes sacrificed to
it
world
the fatal impulse, followed their example, whilst they mup Such evils could not fail, in their
development, to produce those mevitable scandals of which shall soon behold them ravagmg the Apostle spoke.
We
abounds
m the
fullest
upon elect souls, and never-failing grace prepares, beforehand, powerful weapons to combat with evil, and cppose an insurmountable barrier agamst it. Already had the monastic
Bpu'it,
sacerdotal
regenerated in the Order of Citeaux, re-awakened the The most eminent members of the secular spirit.
clergy were now laboring to transmit to the lowest degrees of the hierarchy, the sacred spark which they had received from on high. From the mouth of the priests the life-giving
word spread through the multitude, and communicated to But here the action is twofold it must, spirit. at one and the same tune, descend from the summit of the The people social body and from the pulpit of the Church. never yield to truth, but when, to the word which announces
them a new
:
it,
there
is
Now,
the effect
the sacerdotal spuit must produce in the principal organs of It is, above all, by means of woman that piety social hfe.
awakened and spreads its mysterious influence over We have said elsewhere that woman is one of the society.* of which Providence makes use to prepare instruments grand
is first
the
In tlie whole evangelical hiBtory," says M. de Maistre, womeit piny a very remarkable part ; and in all the celebrated conquests mad by Christianity, either over individuala or over uations, there hai
alwajB been some woman's inflnenoe."
DUCHESS 07 LORRAINE.
false
125
Let ua
trans-
smii)le
monk,
formed by the Spirit of God, renews the spirit of the monastic order. This reform, imperceptible at its birth, spreads itself
over the world, and rouses against
itself all
the passions
which
close
in
it
would destroy.
Mighty
souls rally,
and form a
the sentinels
world
but the masses are not yet excited. The divine action must pass from pontiffs to kings, and from kings to
combat
people;
afifording
women
of rank are the intermediate agents in organs of grace to the Church, and models of virtue
tro
to the world.
first
This illustrious lady, according to the account of William of St. Thierry, saw the servant of
God
after having
a dream, and placed herself under his dkection, changed her way of life ; for she had been
filled
formerly
horrible demons.
man of God had delivered her from seven There are not many remains of her com;
extent of the influence which he exercised over her in the "I " for 3ause of peace and justice. give thanks," writes he,
of
the pious affection which you exercise towards the servants God ; for when we perceive the least spark of celestial
charity lighted up in a heart of flesh, which has hitherto been the dwelling-place of passion and pride, we must certainly believe that it is a divine gift, and not a human
vui:ue.
m conclusion,
;
"to
salute the
and I exhort you both, for the love of God, to give up the castle, on account of which
duke, your husband, from
me
you are
makmg
if
Remember
written
f26
HISTORY OF
profit
is
ST,
BERNARD.
'What
?rorld,
it
to a man,
if
and
lose his
own
soul ?'
"
Another
lady, concerning
whom
One
desire
by
her.
"
You
the state of
my
Bernard to the pious Beatrice, " what health, after my journey, and the new
estabhshment which I have just completed. To reply m few words, I will tell you that my monks have passed from a
all
them very happy and as to mynecessary. I in here returned self, good health but since my return, I have had an intermittent fever, which reduced me to extreI
left
;
...
things
mity.
my
health
and at
this
time I
am
which he brought into the ways of God, are shown most admirably in his letters. "Of a truth," he
name is unknown, " of a no true and deep joy of which God is not the inexhaustible source and all other joy, compared with this,
writes to a person of quality whose
is
truth there
is
I call on you to be my witness, only sorrow. did not the Holy Spuit tell you this, in the bottom of your Was it humanly possible for heart, before I spoke to you ? a young woman like you, handsome, graceful, of a noble
bu*th, to raise yourself
...
all
that flattered your senses and your vanity, unless an invisible power had sustained you, unless sweeter pleasures had
given you a disgust to the things of the world ?" But among those interior souls with which Bernard held
frequent and private communications, the one to whom he Beems to have been especially attached is Ermengarde,
Countess of Brittany.
The
letters
C0UKTE3S OF BRITTANY
12T
exhibit the union of spirit which existed between them ; and admire here most affecting proofs of the pastoral we
may
Ermengarde, a woman of superior merit, had for a long the tepid and common path in which the time vegetated world and the spirit of piety agree together to of the gpirit
were
and mutually to give up their rights to But a possible, both grace and nature.
strong mind cannot breathe long amidst so insipid and disErmengarde felt the desires and gusting an atmosphere. She the wants of a heart which the world could not satisfy.
had previously appUed to the Cardinal de Yendome, and followed his counsels ; but she needed a saint to guide her
to the sublimest heights of sanctity.
God
sent her
Bernard
he was a
who
chosen amidst thousands, as Scripture says, was to raise her above this world, and point out to her
man
the road to the heavenly country. I give some extracts from two letters, the only ones which have been preserved ; they will suffice to make us compre-
living union
alone can create between holy souls '* Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, salutes his beloved daugh ter in Jesus Christ, Ermengarde, formerly Countess of Brittany,
now an humble
servant of
God
"
Why
cannot I make
may
read in
my mind my
inspires
Lord
soul.
He gives me
for
my
in
if
body. It is tine that I cannot show you I cannot manifest it to you entirely, you
128
HISTORY OP
still, if
ST.
BERNARD.
it
may
love
you
will,
understand
into your
for
own
me
as
much
you as you find there for me. Humility and will not allow you to believe that you love me betmodesty
ter than I
do you
God who
guided by
my
advice, gives
me an
this affection
and a tender
interest in
your
service.
Under
stand, then,
departure
leave you
how you have kept me near you ever since mj for myself I may say, with truth, that I did not
when I left you, and that I find you wherever I is what I thought I could write to you in a few But I hope to write at words, being still on my journey. when I shall have more leisure, and God shall greater length
am.
This
give
me
the means."
letter breathes, still
The second
sweet, harmonious tone of spiritual love " " My heart," writes St. Bernard, is full of joy to learn the peace of yours. I am happy, because I know that you
first,
the
are happy, and your tranquillity occasions mine. This peace which you enjoy, proceeds in no degree from flesh and blood. You have renounced your greatness, to live in humility you
;
have given up the advantages of your birth, to lead an obscure and hidden life you have resigned riches to embrace
;
poverty
lights
you have weaned yourself from the deof your country, and the consolations of a brother and
;
in short,
After all this, is it not clear that the joy of your soul a gift of the Holy Spirit ? By the fear of God, you have long ago conceived the spirit of salvation ; but you have
son.
is
brought
fear.
it
Oh, how much I should love to speak, face to face, with you on this subject, instead of writing Truly, I am
!
angry with my occupations, for preventing me from going to see you ; and I rejoice when I see any opportunity whick
129
rare, I confess
;
may
me.
procure
I
me
this happiness.
These are
itself
to
am
present
itself
hoping, however, that such an occasion may soon and I enjoy, beforehand, the sweetness of our ;
meeting."
became celebrated
and
for the
own domain, a
Clairvaux.
vast monastery for one of the colonies from It was there that her holy director loved to
take some repose, durmg his apostohc journeys. Many other elect souls, from different ranks of society, embraced, at the voice of St. Bernard, the counsels of evangelical perfection.
ful ties, edified it
Some,
still
by
others,
more happy
cap-
freedom from
all
to devote themselves to
tive
God
many souls
m their train.
these
Amongst
her.
we
shall only
on account of the
especial interest
We have no particulars of
origm of her connection with the Abbot of Clakvaux. Most of the miracles of grace are performed in secret, love obscurity,
brUhant actions
aad remain unknown among men. History only details and those humble virtues which spread per;
its inquiries.
The
letter
much
over in silence.
" You are some fragments of it from those of your most happy to have distinguished yourself them the desire above by rank, and to have raised yourself
We give
glory,
and
130
are
01
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD
than by the splendof
more
illnstrions
.
by
.
this distinction
When the women of the world, your birth. adorned like palaces, pour forth their raillery against you, answer them thus My kingdom is not yet come, but yours
'
is
Or answer them My glory always ready.' with Jesus Christ in God ; and when Jesus Christ,
appear m
is
hidden
is
who
my
glory, shall
His glory, I
.
shall also
appear
m my
;
And, besides paint, and purple, glory with Him.' ana ornament, many possess beauty, but they do not give it for the beauty we derive from our dress, and which we put
.
off
with
it, is
who wears it. Let other women borrow foreign beauty when they find themselves deprived of that which is their
own.
They
clearly
and
80
much care to please madmen. lAs to you, my daughter, consider as unworthy of you a beauty which is derived from the skins of beasts, or the labors of worms. The true
beauty of anything resides in
itself,
Chastity, modesty, silence, huthese are the ornaments of a Christian vh-gin. Oh,
itself.
how many
nance
How much
I
graces does chaste modesty shed over the countemore lovely are these charms than pearls
and icwels As to you, your treasures depend not on the which withers and corrupts for they belong to the body will and share its immortality." soul, they
;
The example of
propagated the spirit of piety, like an electric spark, through all ranks of society thrones, as well as cottages, brought forth fruits of grace. Prince Henry,* a son of King Louis
;
Gros had, besides Philip, who was just dead, six bomb who succeeded him ; Henry, who became a monk at rnidrvaux ; Robert, Count of Dreux ; Eolin, Lord cf Courtenay ; PhiLp who received Holy Orders ; and a daughter, named Constance.
le
* Louis
AjoniA lo Jeune,
AMADEUS, PRINCE
le
01"
GERMANY.
;
131
and as he Gros, came to Clairvaux, to see St. Bernard conversed with the servant of God, he felt himself touched
live
way
of
life,
that he
dismissed his
numerous
suite,
and de-
would
him never quit the monastery. and to him into the novitiate, subjected humiliating trilong als he employed him in the hardest labors, even in the
Bernard, before receiving
,-
office
but the prince persevered in these exercises, of cook and became one of the himblest of the monks of Clairvaux. It was not till long afterwards, and not without strong resistance, that he at length accepted the bishopric of Beau;
vais
and,
still
later,
To
of
we may add
another
^that
Amadeus, a young German prince, a near relative of the Emperor. On the death of the latter, Amadeus became
disgusted with transitory greatness, threw off aH the insignia He remained of his dignities, and retired to Clairvaux.
there for the rest of his
his
life,
monks by
the great
meek
virtues.
all
It
examples of abnegation, humility, and generous virtue which occurred every day ; each vieing with the other in virtue under the irrestible influence of the
pelled
by
Abbot of make
Clairvaux.
Com-
frequent journeys,
he sowed the seed of heaven as he passed along, and gathered into the garners of Clairvaux a rich and precious harvest.
"
all
one
wouM
run
who have no
And
op, as
if
it
holy things.'^ piety was thus renewed in the world, and sprang were, under the footsteps of this apostolic man, we
132
HISTORY OF
wJiat
ST.
BERNARD.
may judge
Clairvaux, and
would be the divine fruit it produced ai tlie wonders which the monastery must
Bernard, hke a shinmg Kght, enlightened
have presented.
this vast solitude,
fertilized it by his word, by his glance, by his example, by his presence alone. It would need a book to be written on purpose to trace the history of thii
and
admu-able assembly of men, who were chmbing together the will limit oursublime heights of Christian perfection.
We
which are related of the lay brothers of Clairvaux ; they are the most obscure and the least known, but not the less edifymg, and we have pleasure
selves to
some simple
traits
in bringing
them forward.
There was at Clairvaux, say the annalists of the order, a lay brother, of great virtue, and wonderful in his obedience,
who had
Holy
Spirit to be
meek
and humble of heart. Every one gave this testimony of him, that he had never been seen to be impatient, or out
of humor, whatever
ill usage he might receive. He prayed, on the contrary, for those who accused him, and he had acqm'red the habit of saying a Pater for every one who
accused him, whether justly or unjustly, at the Chapter. One day, having been sent out on some business, he was
obhged to go all alone into a thick forest ; and, when he was least thinking of it, he was assailed by a troop of rob-
and unfeelingly stripped him. him, he prostrated himself before God, to entreat of Him to pardon this sin. But one of them,
his horse,
left
anxious to see what this poor brother was doing, after they
had
left
him
in so deplorable
proached and watched him from a distance. And when h saw that he was in prayer, he returned directly to his com" Wo to us, miserable panions, and said, striking his breast
:
and condemned wretches as we are, we deserve death, for we have ill-treated a saintly man he is a monk of Claip:
INCIDNTS.
133
these words than they
faux."
irere
touched with compunction, and, returnmg to the plac where they had left him, they found the monk still prostrate,
praying for them.
all
away, and humbly begged pardon for Another lay brother, a man of great
to obey,
their faults.
simplicity, andpromp had the care of the bullocks upon one of the farms
belonging to Clairvaux. Now, says the chronicler, this man one day saw Jesus Christ, who assisted him in his work. From this moment, burning with a desire to die, and
to join
Him who
souls,
he
fell ill,
and the
seventh day, being in his agony, St. Bernard paid him a visit to bid him adieu, like a beloved and cherished child
who was
home
and
St.
Mm that God
had truly walked with him. Amongst those humble brothers there was another whose life and death were often cited by St. Bernard himself. It
was a monk who,
voured his
for
many
years,
had
suffered the
an
;
most
ulcer de-
his bones.
But
no complamt ever proceeded from his mouth and when, at length, he seemed on the point of expiring, his strength suddenly returned, and the sick man, as if inebriated with a
heavenly wine, began to intone hymns and songs of triumph, and, with a strong and sonorous voice, gave thanks to
God.
only
And
when he ceased
thus this purified soul departed, ceasing to sing to live, and finishing in the heavenly
But St. Bernard, exhausted both by cares and troubles again fell sick. Obliged to isolate hunself in his old abode, ae sent to beg William de St. Thierry to come and see him
134
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD,
thoughts ; thej both wanted to see and support each other, and to suffer together. William has left in writing the impressions left on him by this
he
He was
was
also
visit
his chronicle,
we
are
able, in
tion
some degree, to be present at the familiar conversaof these two great men
CHAPTER XV.
WILLIAM DE ST. THIERRY RELATES WHAT PASSED DURING HIS STAt AT CLAIRVAUXST. BERNARD'S TREATISE UPON " GRACE AND FREl WILL "THE SAINT IS CALLED TO THE COUNCIL OF TROYES.
"
I
WAS
William de
"
me
altogether,
when Bernard
granted
society
;
me
I received as from
God
some time
in his
preferred.
difficulty.
As
I went directly, but with great suffering and soon as I arrived, I felt the effects of the
holy abbot's promise, and, I confess, it was in the way which I desired for I was healed of my great and agonizbut my strength returned but slowly. My ing malady
; ;
God, what
nard being
afforded
from
this
weakness
for Ber-
all
my needs ; so that, being together all the day long, entertdning ourselves with spiritual medicine and remediei gainst the conqueror of the soul.
leisure to assist
him
both
suffering,
me we remained
in
WILLIAM DE
ST.
THIERRT.
135
things in the
"
He explained
;
to
me
at this time
many
Can
but he expomided only its moral and prac* tieal sense, without speaking of the more profound mysteriei which are contained in this sacred book, because I desired
tide of Canticles
God had
engraven
my memory, on my mind,
so that I could
remember
it
communicated to me, with unequalled kindness and with perfect freedom, all the lights which he had received from grace and acquired by experience and he took pains to make
;
He
me
"
understand
When
from
my bed without help and walk about the house, and I began to prepare to return to our abbey. But the saint, when he heard of my resolve, prevented me from executing it, and expressly forbade my thinking of it till Qumquagesima.
I submitted with less pain to this order, as
agreeable to
my
;
will,
my
weakness
those
rhe sublime book of the Canticles can only be understood by who have some experience in the mystery of love. St, Bernard
:
" must consider gives the key of this mystery in these words the expressions of the Canticle of Canticles less than the affections.
We
Love speaks
any one would understand what we are he who loves not, approachea we read for these burning words will never be oomprehended by a heart of ice. . , This sweet colloquy," says he, ** demands chaste ears, and when you think of the two lovers, do not picture to yourself a man and a woman, but the Word and the soul, or rather Jesus Christ and His Church, which comes to the same tning ; for the Church does not signify one soul alone, but the union,
in
all
;
and
if
It is in vain that
;
many
souls."
We
i36
abstain from
order), he
mSTOBT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
still
meat (haying eaten it till then, by Bernard's forbade me to do so, and would never permit it.
his orders nor his entreaties.
In
thift
We
separated then on the Saturday evening, he going to the Imchoir, and, without saying another word, I to my bed. mediately after lying down, my malady returned upon me
with extraordinary violence, and I suffered so cruelly at night, that the pain got the better of all my powers of
patience and resignation ; and, in short, despairing of life, I thought I should never live till morning to see once more the
After having passed the night in this great servant of God. anguish, I sent very early to entreat him to come to see me.
He
came
directly
who
and charitable
compassion which he was accustomed to show towards me. He said, however, with a smile, Well, what will you eat today V and I, who knew before he spoke that my disobedience of the preceding day was the real cause of my increased * I will eat whatever you are pleased to order illness, replied,
you wiU not die yet ;' and he went away. What shall I say further ? At the same moment my illness left me, and all that remained was a lassitude which prevented me from rising that day; for
for me.'
'
Well, be at
'
the sufferings I had endured were very great, and I never remember to have felt the like. But on the following day I
was
perfectly well ; and having also regained my strength, I returned a few days afterwards to my monastery, with the blessing and kmd favor of my host."
St.
repose,
Bernard took advantage of the short moments of which his sufferings compelled him to take, to write
^^
a treatise upon
It
was
called forth
He
mth
his brethren,
and
131
he added, in a tone of deep thankfulness, that grace had always prevented him in good and that all good owes to
grace
At beginning, its progress, and its perfection. these words, one of his auditors observed, "If grace doe4
its
everything,
what
will
be our reward
"
St. Paul, God has saved us by His grace, and not by works of justice, which we have done." Tit. iii. 5. "What," continued he, "do you think to be
by your own who cannot even the of Jesus, name justice you pronounce without the grace of the Holy Spu*it ? Have you forgotten the words of Hun who said, You can do nothmg without
;
'
Me?' (John
xv. 5
;)
who
willeth,
who
who
showeth mercy V
of free will ?
tionJ
"
My
But, you will ask me, what then becomes reply shall be brief, '// works out its salvor
But the holy doctor thought it advisable to treat this deUcate question more maturely and he wrote, on this occasion, the remarkable work of which we are about to
;
He first lays down, with St. Augustine, that every good action supposes the co-operation of the human will with divine grace ; and that the work of salvation cannot, therefore,
be accomplished without the concurrence of these two things ^grace and freedom ^grace which gives, and freedom
>
which
sents
;
receives,
grace
will
which admits, which acquiesces, which conso that to work out our salvation is to consent to
amsentirt
emm
salvari
est.
^that is,
the/ra and
can make a man either happy or miserable, according as he turns to good or to evil. This consent, therefore, is, with great reason, called free will, as well on account of the
inalienable freedom of
man
138
HISTOBT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
exercise.
judgment of the reason which always accompanies iti This consent is free in itself from the nature of the will and is a judge of itself because of the nature of
;
the reason.
"
How, mdeed,"
"
could
good or
be justly imputed to him who is not free, smce Now, it is necessity serves as a lawful excuse in all cases ? certain that where there is necessity there is no longer
evil
freedom
that
if
is
no merit,
and, consequently, neither reward nor condemnation. Every action which is not performed with the freedom of a volun-
Hence, the actions of and madmen, mfants, sleepmg persons, are accounted neither nor evil because not having the use of reason, they good have not sufficient light for the exercise of their will, nor,
tary consent,
is
;
destitute of merit.
After having clearly defined the freedom of the will, and m which it may be found, St Bernard
in its relations
with grace.
"For
I say not,"
adds he, "that by freedom we have the volition of good or the vohtion of evil I say only that we have simple volition
;
good
is
gift,
and the
is
volition of evil
is
fault; but the simple act of voMtion which we are capable of good or evil
wg^will
%^"It
by
is
but it is of grace that we will what is good." grace alone," he continues, "which excites free will
inspiring
good thoughts
;
which perfects
it,
it,
its affections
which strengthens
it,
to accomplish the
by changing good
in all these
it
begun
the
which supports
lest it fall.
Now,
prevents
Both will, and afterwards continues to accompany it. concur to the perfection of the work which was begun by
grace, so that they
work
other
; grace does not one part, and freedom anotlwr " tach by one and the same act does the whole work
buf
13^
Bernard continues,
in
questions, to determine the relations and pomts of contact between freedom and grace; then setting out from these
premises, he thence deduces the whole doctrme of justification. "0 man," says he, "when non-existing thou couldst not create thyself ; a sinner, thou couldst not justify thyself ; No one can dead, thou couldst not raise thyself to life.
doubt these truths except he be ignorant of the justice of God, and seek to establish his own. And who is ignorant
of the justice of
God ?
He who
attributes to hhnself
any
merits but those which proceed from graced are asked, in what do our merits consist?
I reply that the concurrence of our will with the grace which jusAs the regeneration, the tifies, is imputed to us as merit.
reparation (reformatio) of our inward bemg cannot be accomplished without the acquiescence of our free will, that acquiescence, that consent, constitutes our only merit. Thus,
"We
our merits are fastings, vigils, continence, works- of mercy, and all the other practices of virtue by which our inward
man
is
and our
by the memory of past sms, is cleansed by the holy joy which follows holy deeds. These three thmgs chiefly contribute to the renewing of the inward
memory,
sullied
man
deeds.
But
in as far as it is the
these
in as far,
good dispositions within us, they are the gifts of God ; on the other hand, as they require the consent and
*
To sum up
concurrence of our wUl, they are imputed to us as merit. all in one word, with St. Paul, it is those whom
He
has
justified,
not those
glorifies in heaveia.'
^Rom.
whom He
viii.
found
just,
whom God
30."
Such
is
The most
subtlf
140
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
and complicated questions of theology are there explained with clearness and unction grace, and its divers operationa, its force, its effects, its influence on man ; the human will,
its
freedom,
its
original
gifts of
sm;
all
impotence, and weakness, in consequence of the agreement of freedom with grace; the
the merits of
these various points, developed accordmg to the unchangeable principles of the Church, present, under St. Bernard's pen, the ever-ancient truth under a new form
Christ
God and
men
justification
by Jesus
fwve,
non
i/wva."^
Meanwhile, Bernard, not yet restored to health, had fcarcely resumed those functions, to which his love for
his brethren continually
year 1128. Some legal busmess of the Bishop of Paris, and various other necessities of the French Church, had deter-
mined Pope Honorius to assemble the Prelates of France, under the presidency of his legate, the Cardinal Bishop of
Albano.
The
council,
without urgent necessity, affairs which seemed to him unsuited to his vocation. His continual infirmities gave him a
right to refuse
;
and,
this determination,
he wrote to
in-
his condition
and
his sentiments.
Cotincil of Trent
St.
Bernard in view in
reproduces
exposition of the doctrine of justification ; for it almost word for word. How admirable is it to see in tht
Catholic Church this continuity of the same spirit in the perpetuity of the teaching body. " "We expound," says the Council of Trent, " the
true and wholesome doctrine of justification, as it emanated from th Bun of justice, Jesus Christ, the Author and Finisher of our faith,
the apostles left it to us, as the Catholic Church, by the inspiratloD of tho Holy Qhott, haa eyer held and tauj^ht"
COUNCIL or TROTTS.
1%^
:
he,
;
not follow
my
spirit
" to obey you ; but my body could and my flesh, burnt up with fever, ex-
hausted by sweatings, could not answer the demands of the Let my friends judge if this excuse be suffiwilling spirit.
cient,
who make
vowed
to
my
superiors to drag me so often from my cloister and plunge me the world. It is, say they, an important matter again
which obliged us to summon you. But why then look to me? These matters are either easy or difficult. If easy,
they can be done very well without me ; if difficult, I shall not be able to manage them ; unless, indeed, they imagine
me to be more capable of them than another. In that case, how has it happened, O my God, that I am the only one in whom Thou hast ever been so mistaken as to have hidden him under a bushel, who should have been placed upon a
candlestick
or, to speak more plainly, why didst Thou make me a monk ? Why hast Thou hidden in the secret of Thy house a man so necessary to the world ? But I perceive that I in thus complaining I am getting a little out of humor.
;
my
repugnance, I will submit quietly to the orders you give me, leavmg it to your discretion to spare my weakness."
But
his earnest
and, thenceforth, obedience triumphed over all other considerations. He set out for Troyes, in the middle of winter,
and took
It
was under
his inspection that the council regulated the differences of the Church of France, and promulgated several canons on
have not reached our time, are praised by contemporary tistorianfl for their energy and wisdooL
H2
nSTOBT or
ST.
BERN AM)
The councfl was on the point of terminating its labow when a memorable incident prolonged its session, and gar* new importance to its labors.
CHAPTER
XVI.
DenTUTI0N OF THE TEMPLARSRETURN OP ST. BERNARD TO OLAIRVAUX HUMILIATIONS WHICH HE EXPERIENCESHIS LABORS AND DAILY PREACHING.
arise,
a new
spirit
The Church,
like
Bees
and
Her
power of love
never sleeps ; she brings forth, she creates without ceasing, she offers new resources for each new exigency ; and it would
be impossible to point out, among the various necessities which have agitated men and ages, any tendency, any misfortune, any fault, any need which has not found its medium^
its balm, its proper form, the object correspondto the desire of the period, in the bosom of the Church. ing At the beginning of the twelfth century, the recent conthe woi^d an enthusiasm quest of Jerusalem had kindled
its
remedy,
which was, at once, military and religious. The Crusades themselves had been but the development and the working out, as it were, of a sublime idea, which was to produce what
the sceptre of Charlemagne, and the policy of his successors, had been slowly preparing the fusing together of the differ-
but
it
This idea was not yet unveiled in gleamed over the holy sepulchre when
served as the rallying point of Christian nations ; it pre; j Bented the same goal to all and to attain it, all ranks were
tonfoanded together
^the
141
and the simgle burgess, made common cause under the ban
oer of the cross.
spirit
of that period,
it
which
is
attaches
itself,
;
always analogous to the object to which and the end which it pursues. This end
divine.
wm
twofold
it
The
earthly
Jerusalem appealed to those who aspu-ed to the Jerusalem in neaven and these two mingled ideas excited to tears of de;
valor. Religious were inspired knights with religious ardor ; the soldier became a monk in the prospect of the heavenly Zion ; the monk became a soldier for the deliverance of the earthly Zion :
votion
the two swords were drawn together to fight in the same cause ; and this alliance, first contracted in the minds of
men, passed inevitably into the manners of the age, and entered into the constitution of society.
Hence the
origin of
those orders, at once monastic and military, upon which the Church laid her hand at their birth, to legitimatize them, and
direc-
The
Hospitalers, better
known under
the
name
of the
Knights of Malta, had already reproduced, immediately after a remthe first crusade, the ancient Order of St. Lazarus
But the care of the sick and the protection of pilgrims. a and better Land needed organized force to special Holy the a infidels, to watch oppose permanent rampart against
over the security of the roads, to facilitate communication, nd to guide the pilgrims, who converged from all parts of
the world, towards the glorious sepnlchre of Christ. Several French knights, of the company of Godfrey de
Bouillon,
had associated themselves together for this noble 1118 and, as they had obtained from
;
Kmg
U4
(Milites Templi).
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
They
lived in
command
Grand Master.
"
the Psalmist,
Non
nobis,
Domine, non
nomini tuo
da gloriamy
Ten
it still
this little
knot of
devoted men had not yet been able to increase or develop itself. At length, about the year 1128, they came to Rome, with letters from the Patriarch of Jerusalem, to ask of the
Pope a
rule of life, and that high Roman sanction, without which nothing takes root or prospers in the Church. Honorius understood the importance of an institution so suited to
the wants of the time, and charged the French bishops, then assembled at Troyes, to examine it, and give it a definite
form.
fore,
de Paganis, at the head of the Templars, therewords of and, presented hunself before the council
Hugh
unfolded the design of their order. "The " had bulwarks enough agamst the malice Church," he said, of spiritual foes ; but she needed a particular aid against her
burning
zeal,
\
\
where the
infidels
made
the holy places ahnost inaccessible." He added, " that after trial his believed themselves able to devote companions long
themselves to this glorious mission, and that the time would come when the whole world would reap the fruit of their
institution."
sympathy of the Fathers of the Council all applauded the generous project of Hugh, and they charged the Abbot of
Clairvaux to draw up the statutes of the order.
nard, although sick, and impatient to return to his
his strength return for the
accomplishment of the work which had devolved upon him he entered into the sphit which ftnimated the Templars, and gave them a role breathing mili*
;
DfarmmoN of the
tary ardor
templars.
145
Jteelf into
and monastic
fervor.
We
transcribe
it
here, as
monuuent which
belongs to the memory of St. Bernard : " I swear that I will defend by my word, by mj sword, by all means in my power, and even with my life, the mysteries of the faith, the seven sacraments, the fourteen articles of
the Apostles' creed, and the creed of St. Athanasius, the Old and New Testaments, with the explanations of the
faith,
holy Fathers received by the Church, the unity of the Divine nature, and the trinity of persons in God, the virginity of
the
Virgm Mary
Furthermore, I promise obedience and submission to the Grand Master of the Order, according to the statutes of our
blessed Father Bernard. I will
"
go to
fight
beyond
seas, as
often as there shall be necessity. I will never fly before three I will observe perpetual infidels, even though I be alone.
chastity.
I will aid by
persons,
my
words,
my
arms, and
my
deeds,
all religious
and
and
religious
of the Cistercian Order, as our brethren and particular friends, with whom we are especially united. In witness whereof, I
willingly
swear that I
his
will
keep
all
these engagements.
So
help
me God, and
by
We see
whom
the veneration and gratitude of the Templars towards him " they regarded as their father and protector. Go,"
said St.
forth, brave knights, pursue with an intrepid heart the enemies of the cross of Jesus Christ, well assured that neither death nor life will be able
to separate
Christ.
In
all perils
you from the love of God which is in Jesus and on all occasions repeat these words
of the apostle, * Living or dead we are God's.* or martyrs, rejoice, you are the L^jrd'a."
Conqneron
146
BIOTOBT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Bernard passed an eulogimn on the soldiers of the new order, and describes, with great satisfaction, their morals and way
of
life.
He
is
among them moves but at the order of his supefood and clothing from hun they li^^ in receive rior they common without wife or children and that nothing may imthat none
;
;
pede them
is
in the
way
among them
own
and
They
for
case,
when not
Bernard,
seldom the
mending
their
arms or
bread of idlenesa
light word,
a useless action,
forbidden them
The chase
is
vain songs, chess, dice, and other worldly amusements, are But at the approach of battle, banished from their society.
clothed externally with ungilt iron armor, and internally with the armor of faith, they are bold as lions, and fall upon
their enemies without fear either of their
cruelty.
numbers or
their
kow an
After reading this magnificent testimony, it will be asked institution so pure in its origin could so speedily have
reached such a deplorable end ? The fact is, that it had not existed a century before the Templars, enriched by the rights and wrongs of war, had become odious to the whole world.
English writer of the twelfth century, of sense and sagacity (John of Sahsbury), complains loudly of the malversatio5LS
An
the Temple were, even in his day, accused. They embraced the priesthood and canonical functions solely to appropriate
to themselves the benefices attached to
them
is
"so
that,**
"
to shed
human
faithful tht
IWffnrCTTON
F THE TEMPLARS.
141
this crying
abuse of Aings sacred, the mixing of the gross alloy of oriThis would seem ental ker flies with the Christian doctrine ?
to result from the facts
later.
Snt the
a*,
Master,
rity
upon this page of history.* Meanwhile, the prelates of the Council of Troyes, after
having approved the statutes of the new order, separated, satisfied with their work, and happy to return to their homes.
St.
solitude.
Bernard had sighed more than any after his beloved "Have pity on me," he wrote to some fervent
"
religious,
serving God in an inviolable sanctuary, far from the tumult of business. As to me, wretch that I am, condemned tc
am like a little unfledged bird, almost of out its nest, exposed to storms and tempests." always In fact, a storm of suflBcient violence menaced him, and
continual labors, I
his
head
on account of
cell.
Abbot of Clairvaux of having provoked untimely severities they revived old grievances, and added new reproaches to them, so that complaints, repeated
had
suffered, accused the
;
without examination, and carried from mouth to mouth, became general and some bishops, alarmed at the power of a
;
simple monk, denounced him at Rome, where the whole ColThe Pope himself, lege of Cardinals found fault with him.
Chancellor of the
Roman
Church, to
t48
HISTORY OF
cardinal wrote
ST.
BERNARD
letter in consequence.
The
him a severe
reproached him with meddling too much with things which belong not to a monk, and advised him for the future " to remain in his monastery. There are various professions " and as all in the Church," said he ; things are at peace when one at his in remains and his place, so all is conevery post
He
and disorder when any one overpasses the limits of his It is not fitting," adds he ironically, "that noisy position.
fusion
and troublesome frogs should issue from trouble the Holy See and the cardinals."
St.
their
marshes to
Bernard received
this letter
:
to
it
How long will truth be hated, even in the mouth of the poor ? Must misery itself be the object of jealousy ? I know not whether I ought to congratulate or compassionate myself for being looked upon as a dangerous man, because I have
spoken accordmg to truth, and acted according to justice. What has there been in my conduct to offend your colleagues ?" Here St. Bernard enters into long details conwhich he had borne cerning the different acts of the course
"
part.
it
He
continues as follows
wrong,
was
"
was
bom
my
but I was
called,
and
even dragged thither. If many have been shocked at this In conclusion, step, I have been no less shocked than they.
I can see no one
who can
better spare
to
do
it.
^you have the power and the will Henceforward I conjure you so to act that both
me
^you by maintaining order, I by Let these troublesome caring for the salvation of my soul. frogs be forbidden then to come out of their holes, to leave
their
marshes
in assemblies
mS
HUMILUTIONS.
14 f
ambition, of which I
rity,
am the object.
If,
then,
by your autho-
I can obtain the grace to remam in my cloister, I shall live in peace, and leave others also in peace."
and so modest
due justice to
Cardinal Haimeric was touched by a tone at once so firm he opened his eyes to the truth, and rendered ;
St.
Bernard.
The other
cardinals,
now
better
repau-ed their fault by a contrary Ime of conduct, and great demonstrations of respect. Elsewhere, the accusations which
The deeper had been St Bernard's humiliation, the more were his disinterestedness
and
his
;
had been so hghtly received, fell when the truth came to light. wisdom now
extolled.
Such
is
the fate of
men of
God
they float like the fisherman's bark on the deep ocean, wnich now threatens to ingulf them in its depths, now raises
them on
after
it
its
The
reputa-
tion of St.
lustre
than
Every
one hastened, as
were, to
make amends
sufferings, and loudly lamented the unjust prejudice which had been raised against a man now venerated as a saint.
itself
in
He
knew nothing of what was passing in the world. was whoUy given up to the contemplative life, and the
"The
true paradise. Oh, how sweet and precious a thing it is to see brethren dwellmg together in perfect concord, and
living in conununity, in the strictest union of heart
ipiritl"
and
"For
"who have
renounced
150
Lord,
the
let
mSTORT OF
ST.
BERNARO.
and
this post is
abasement,
and joy
in
Holy Ghost.
Our
portion
is
to remain in submission to
silence,
to exercise ourselves in vigils, fastings, prayer, manual labt^r ; it is, beyond all this, to love one another, because charity is
k.he
most excellent of
all virtues."
The
amid these holy exercises. Bernard, wearied and disgusted with the public affau's in which he had been forced, against his will, to take an active
part,
had
"My resolution
the
is
a formal order from superior authority." But his profound retirement could not free him from the crowd of occupations
His
cell
was a sanctuary,
whither they came to consult him as an oracle. Theologians, learned men, eminent personages of all kinds, submitted to
him questions discussed in the schools, or sent him their works before they exposed them to the dangers of publicity. Bernard thus kept up an immense correspondence and an
;
admu-able feature of that period, as Baronius remarks, was the strict friendship and sweet literary fellowship which then
united
all
men
of talent together.
Among
the learned
men
who were
closely connected with St. Bernard, we may instance Peter the Yenerable, the author of a number of
and sacred poems; St. Norbert, th<5 founder of the order of the secular canons, afterwards celebrated under the name of Premostratensians. Richard of
theological treatises
St. Victor sends
Abbot
a book upon the Holy Trinity to the holy of Clairvaux, to ask his opinion of it ; Hugh, suT"
BIS PBEACHIN6.
151
convent of St. Victor, at Paris, consults St. Bernard on several cases of conscience ; Peter, Cardinal Deacon of th
Roman Church, asks him for some edifying book. St. Bernard rephes : "I have never, methinks, written any work
religious, it is true,
Some of piety worthy of the attention of your eminence. have collected fragments of sermons as
I preach
them
As to the questions proposed by Hugh of St. Victor, they are of little interest in themselves, but they indicate the tendency and progress of dialectics in the
wish to read them."
schools.
St. Bernard replied by a long treatise, in which he grounds his opinion upon that of St. Ambrose and St Augustine, whom he calls the two pillars of the Church.
In
all
we
discover at once the simplicity and the sublimity of truth It could not be otherwise with a man whose life was the very
ixpression of truth.
his kindling eye, his style,
fire
which beamed
in
which animated
his letters,
which shone
in
Holy
Writ.
self,
Scripture.
never cast a brighter light than upon the pages of His words were the very substance of Holy
He
text, as
he says him
the grain
is sefparated
from
wax, the marrow from the loTie. He began, at the of which we are writing, to explain the Canticle of period but we can form no idea Canticles in his daily instructions
from
the
of the effect produced by his sermons on the vast assembly of the monks of Clairvaux. His eloquence, according to the
by
testimony of his contemporaries, was distmguished as much its depth of ;pvisdom as by its brilliancy of style ; so that
those who listened to his burning words, thought they heard; not a man, but an angel from heaven. His voice, although was it to 90 that seemed loft, flexible, give forth melodioot
153
sound,
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
gentle,
ing to the
vibrated
his con-
he preached every day; he always preached at great length ; and what remains to us of his discourses we owe to the diligence of the monks who wrote them down
from
These imperfect abstracts can give no ; yet the sermons upon the Canticle of Canticles are justly esteemed St. Bernard's mashis
mouth.
The mystical life and the sublime mysteries of love are there set forth with a grace and delicacy so perfect
terpiece.
that, as
we read these ardent pages, the Holy Spirit seems to take possession of our whole soul. [St. Bernard, however,
would not have
all
Book
of Solomon.
union, under
"for as
it is
in vain
that the light strikes upon closed eyes, so, accorduig to the apostle's words, the natural man cannot understand what
belongs to the Spirit of God; the Holy Ghost, who is the source of wisdom, withdraws Him from those whose
life is
impure."
J^
eighteen months wLich St. Bernard had spent amongst his religious had carried the monastery to the highest point
of perfection. Sanctity flourished in this numerous assembly of the children of God, as in the brightest days of the .primi-
The
Church ; and the holy abbot himself had found renewed gladness of spirit and strength of body, in the peaceable and regular exercises of the ascetic life.
tive
the samts.
is
tions, suspend tne mterpretation of the sacred Canticles, and leave the paradise of his solitude to embark, once more, on the wide ooukq of the world. The ship of St. Petec, thi
A
jport of tempests,
NXW
PSRIOB
15S
had long been struggling with tne elements unchained against her. In this serious emergency, all those interior men whom Providence had been traming in secret, were called to take
a more direct part
age.
in public affairs.
St. Bernard's life
>^
He
communicated to
164
BX8T0BT OF
ST.
BEBNikBft.
tdtrl^ {ItrUIr
CHAPTER
POLinOAL LIFE OF
Rati
tF
XVII.
ST.
BERNABU
The great social question to which Christianity gave birth, and which has re-appeared under different forms in every age
of the history of the Church, is that of determining the comThis plicated relations of the spiritual and temporal power.
question
in
the middle
if
ages.
the imperial crown from the hands of the Pontiff ; and in return, the Popes themselves accepted the tiara with the
consent of the Emperor. In this manner the reciprocal dependence, and the points of contact of the two powers, have been established one
of which, placed at the head of political society, is commissioned to govern all temporal things ; and the other, at the summit of Christian society, is charged with the government of
mmds.
;
the kingdom of God was to be the foundation and sanctifying principle of earthly dominion, the latter concur*
alliance
Gregory, to the
the
however ingenious
in its idea,
and
in its application tc
aPTAM OF
will
PUBUC AFFAIRS.
155
Y^i
shall
obey the same law, and accomplish it within the lunits of their own sphere. Now, the limits between these two orders
of things, between the physical and the spiritual sphere, cannot be more exactly determined in society than in the indi The body and the soul, although each of these terms vidual.
is
life they constitute together the personality of the man, as of society ; and it is no more possible to their identification would identify than to separate them lead to pantheism ; their separation would entail death.
There
exists,
then,
between
;
them
if if
relations,
multiform,
and
cordant,
if
earthly principle, in the individual as in society, are in opposition and revolt, this belongs to the present condition
of man,
and the
original
difficulty of
representatives of the temdid not remain faithful to the misin the west, poral power sion which Charlemagne had received from Providence.
Turning to their own aggrandizement the high position which the Sovereign Pontiffs had accorded to them for the
selves untenable rights over the
tt
the instrument of their personal ambition. This rupture of the equilibrium between the
two powers,
and
en-
his
conscientiousness,
dowed with
156
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD.
gaging the Church from the yoke of the emph*e. Henct arose the memorable debates known in history under the title
of the disputes about investitures.
of
barbarous nations, had introduced into the discipline of the Church, were to be cut up by the roots abuses which had
been, in
by the unjust pretenhad gradually usurped the privilege of nominatmg bishops then of investing them with their functions by the ring and crozier, signs of episcopal juristemporal power.
sions of the emperors,
;
fell
Hence it happened that the bishoprics too often unworthy hands ; sovereigns were seen selling them to those who bid highest for them, or bestowing them as
diction.
into
rewards on greedy courtiers. Hence the clamors which were heard at that tune against the morals af the pries^
hood, and of the princes of the
Church
;
the episcopate
had
fallen into
an alarming disrepute
ber of mercenaries
august functions of the altar, paralyzed the action of reliFrom time to time the Church had protested against gion.
the causes of these deplorable abuses. Already in the eighth and ninth centuries, the Councils of Nice and of Constanti-
nople had formally forbidden the investiture of bishops by But these prohibitions, bemg destitute of a lay authorities.
sufficient sanction,
were
ineffectual.
many, jealous of a prerogative which was to them a source of mfluence and wealth, attempted, until the time of Gre*
gory YII., to subjugate the Popes, as well as the bishops and the abbots of monasteries. St. Gregory VII. thought he could not shake off this yoke without energetically
directing the united forces of the spiritual
power against the pretensions of the emperors. It was then that this admirable Pontiff was seen re-asserting his lawful sapre*
157
macy, and restoring its inalienable rights to the Holy See. The Pope, by condemmng investitures, did not merelj mtend to prohibit the feudal ceremony of bestowing the but he loudly asserted the liberty oi ring and the crozier lo elections, and the independence of the priesthood
;
purify the Church, by delivering it, by the weapon of excommunications, from mercenary and unworthy pastors ; to sanctify it, by re-establishmg the ancient discipline, and
reforming the morals of the priesthood such was Gregory's noble idea ; and he pursued its realization with a
vigor, notwithstanding the formidable of ambitious opposition princes and covetous ecclesiastics. These long quarrels had been embittered by the equivocal position of the bishops, who, on the one hand, administered
truly
apostolical
on the other, held feudal grants of land from the empire. Princes mamtained, with some show of justice, that prelates, when they took possession of cities,
spiritual things, and,
and crown lands, were bound, in quality of vassals, to take the oath of fealty at the hands of the sovereign, and to receive from him, not the episcopal jurisdiction, but
castles,
The Pope, fief, by ring and crozier. that form of investiture, attacked, especially, opposing the abuse connected with it, which consisted in the practice
of princes giving this investiture to persons not yet consecrated ; and thus, in a manner, compelling the consecration
episcopate.
who had received beforehand the insignia The pretensions on both sides were
and precedents
;
by
titles
and the
historians, w\io
have sought to throw the odium of the strife on the inflexible pertinacity of the Popes, have not gone to the bottom of the question, or examined its results. No doubt, in our
day, the question seems easy of solution, by the saxirifice, on the part of the bishops, of their temporal possessions.
Bm
158
the light of
HISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
necessitiei
modern
politics.
which change with tune, and with the phases of humanity. The high mission for the civilization of the world requires
an independence, which
is
sometimes possible only under And if, even in our day, good
the importance of preserving to the See the territories which secure her independence, and give her an elevated position, which raises her above the contradictory influences of political events, we may well
of
men acknowledge
Rome
conceive that, in the middle age, amidst the social vicissitudes, the fluctuation of nations, and of never-ceasing warfare, it
was
fit
dignified, stable,
and necessary that bishops should have a and permanent position, m order to consol-
idate Christianity
upon the
It
may
ers in the
modem European
states, has brought benefits to society of In those dark which posterity is not sufficiently aware. times an unmediate contact of the two centres was needed,
subjugate the State to the subject to the soul ; but to place body them in communication, in hving union ; to fertilize one, as it were, by the other ; to engraft the new men upon the old trunk of Christendom, that the Christian sap might penetrate
not, as it is
commonly
said, to
Church, as the
is
the
pagan and barbarian elements, and a homogeneous Ufa members of the modern sociewhich, in fact, compose at once the
State and
the
Church.
However
this
may
be,
it
is
It was the popes, the bishops, the monastic orders, who by the immense resourcea at their disposal, opened the schools, and founded the institutions
whence
civilization flowed
and, assuredly,
if
to theii
flTATE
OF PUBLIC AFTUBS
151
temporal possessions the bishops had not attached ideas of mifision from above, of charity, of rigorous justice, and sacred
political right,
the
mamtenance of
they would ifever have resisted unto blood in their temporal rights. do not pre-
We
we would
simply account
and when we
St. Thomas of Canterbury, and so many other of the same period, strugglmg for their worldly possessions, which, at the same time, they trampled under
Ansehn, a
great men
foot ; choosing to die rather than abandon the perishable goods of the Church, and yet Uving in extremest poverty ; we say with confidence that in this fact a divine idea is contamed,
This also explains the pertinacity of the popes in wresting from prmces the right of investiture, without yieldmg to them
the temporal rights of bishops in return. The strife was long and bloody ; but amid all the confused questions which it raised, it had one clear and decisive result which bore upon
European civilization. The religious hberty clauned by the Church gave birth to political Uberty and the era of the
;
enfranchisement of the
conflict of the
In the twelfth century all these ideas were maturing, and a deep and general renovation was working in
of the Church.
society,
all existing power. not purpose to retrace here the wars of the two Henrys the schisms, the humiliations, the frightful vicissitudes which Rome and the empire alternately underwent.
We do
At
we take up
was
for the
Worms
in
1122 the
famous concordat, by which the independence of the Church was recognized. Henry Y., exhausted by his own triumphs,
and acknowledging at
gainst the
last the
power
160
HIBrORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
right of ir jesting prelates by the ring and crozier ; he bouid himself to restore the temporalities to the bishops, to respect the freedom of elections, and especially to assist the Roman
Pontiflf.
Pope
a legitimate
compulsion
;
Calixtus II., on his side, granted to the prince influence in election, excluding all sunony and
elect should receive
by the sceptre
only, not aa
formerly before episcopal consecration, but six months afterwards. Thus was terminated, by this memorable treaty, a
murderous
five
conflict,
fifty-six years,
and which
Popes, successors of
unwearied perseverance.
down their arms, the impulse was given ; the raised in the strife between the
Church and empire, was reproduced under a thousand forms, in every Church, in every state, and on all sides mind revolted against material force.
Italy, in
In Germany,
in France, in
England, in Spain, the watchword of enfranchiseas in our days of liberty, was repeated, without any ment, precise assignable Umit to the progress claimed by the spirit
of the age, which was forcing the whole order of society mto new forms. shall see hereafter the coincidence of this
We
social
strides
of
human reason
The
idea of liberty
speak
^if
we may
pangs of
birth.
the present epoch of our history, the state of affairs was smgularly complicated by two schisms which broke out at the same time in
At
The Emperor of was dead. The Germany, Henry V., lately princes assembled at Mentz to choose his successor, found two claimant!
to the erown-^the
first,
knowi
161
by the name of Hohenstauffen, the grandson of Henry IT., and nephew of the late emperor, seemed to have legitimate claims on the crown but his competitor, Lotharius of Sax;
advantage of having abstained from fighting m the ranks of the Pope's adversaries he wa a prince ahready advanced m age, less vaUant than the Dake of Suabia, and less fitted than he to rally around him the
ony,
in his favor the
;
had
but through the favor of the ; he obtained the crown, to the excluFrederic only submitted sion of the race of Hohenstauffen.
to this election by standing his ground with arms in his hands ; but his brother Conrad assumed the title of king,
and prepared to dispute the crown with Lotharius. He crossed the Alps and entered Italy, where the two Henrys had numerous adherents. This country was at that time a
prey to complete anarchy. The wars, of which Italy had been the principal field of battle, had dismembered her ter-
and increased the number of contending parties; every small state and town aspired, as it were, to become independent, and all together endeavored to separate themselves from Germany in order to lay the foundations of their
ritories
Milan, above all, puffed up with the success independence. of its arms, sought to bring all northern Italy under its auto form one homogeneous kingdom, of which it was thority
to be the capital. One man alone was wanting to realize these vast designs, and the Milanese believed they had found
Conrad of Hohenstauffen. This prince was, accordingly, enthusiastically welcomed at Milan. The Archbishop Anselm placed the iron crown on his head, and
him
in the person of
Lombardy.
The most
Conrad already nourished the hope of being crowned emperor at Rome, when he learnt that Pope Honorius had declared in favor of his rival. The exconuni^
162
EISrOBT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
nication of Conrad, and of the Archbishop Ansehn, who had crowned him by his own authority, followed upon the proclamation of Lotharius and this inteUigence, the terrible
;
felt in the preceding reigns, stopped the new king in his triumphal course, and paralyzed all his efforts. He retu-ed to an obscure town, where he
lived
for
some time without giving umbrage to Lotharius, his ambition, and threatened
Christendom with the calamities of a religious war. Pope Honorius died on the 1 4th of February, 1130. Long before his death, the rich and powerful Cardinal Peter di
Apostohcal See.
He
the
of a converted Jew,
was name
the grandson
of
IX., to
whom
which
his family
services.
influence
this family
had possessed at
Rome
many
had
of adherents.
course of studies at Paris, where he was distinguished for his lively genius and brilliant quaUties. His virtue at that
time appears to have been soUd ; for, renouncing the pomps of the world, he listened to the counsels of St. Bernard, and Boon after became a monk at Cluny ; but being recalled to
II., and promoted to the cardinalhe was charged with several important legations, which
inflated his vanity and afforded him the means of augmenting his fortune, which was already enormous. The more prudent members of the College of Cardmals
were
in great apprehension of
an
election,
fatal
poral power ; and, foreseeing the success of the intrigues which they knew were at work, they met together before the
Pope's death was made pubHc, and although they were in the minority, they elected, with an unanimous voice, Caxdi
163
under
Gregory
a
the
prelate of firm character and irreproacliable This election was title of Innocent II.*
made in private ; many of the cardinals were absent, and the usual forms could not be observed. Therefore, as soon as it was made known, those cardinals who were of Peter
di Leone's
and, asseea
St.
Church of
Mark,
they proclaimed him Pope who had long held the suffrages of the Roman princes and people. Peter took the name of
Anacletus
II.,
and
gave him the pontifical insignia but as the adherents of the two Popes came to open hostilities, the Roman troops
(paid by Anacletus) marched against Innocent, who, to escape the popular fury, took refuge in the fortress of the powerful family of the Frangipani, who had declared in his favor
Rome
into a
and
were dreaded
Anacletus was now master of The principal cities of Italy and, above aU, those which had espoused the cause of the race of Hohenstauflfen
throughout Christendom.
Rome.
The Normans of
Sicily recognized
authority,
;
his cause
whilst
who
could
o:\ly
count
number of the
from
faithful in
God
among Rome, remained shut up in the who had elected him, awaiting which was needful to the Church
his partisans
a small
%t this critical
moment.
excited
Notwithstanding the clamors wiiich the election of Innocent among the adherents of Anacletus, we cannot find in theu
writings any reproach or recrimination against the person of Innocent. His election was attacked, hat his character was universally lespeoted
164
BISTORT 07
ST.
BERNARD.
princes,
annouacing
these letters
Holy
See.
To
he added another, addressed to the French bishops, wherein he passes a remarkable encomium on the GaUican Church.
error
"This Church," he says, "has never been surprised by never has she been stamed or dishonored by the
;
contagion of schism ; ever faithful and sincerely devoted to God, she has carefully maintained harmony and union with
the Roman Church, whose glory she has ever made it her duty to augment by continual proofs of submission." Anacletus, full of confidence,
having thus
powers.
since
Poje Innocent, in the meanwhile, who had been shut up the month of February, no longer feeling himself
secure in
embarked
secretly
cardinals
and,
whence he passed
He
sent
deputies to announce his arrival to the king, and inform him of the state of aflfau*s in Rome. But neither the king nor
his minister, Suger,
knew which
and
it
Pope might tend to was impossible to discern which was the side of right and justice amid the clamors and pietensions by which Christendom was divided. Louis VI was unwilling to trust his own decision, and before he promatter.
Any
serious consequences
nounced his opinion, he was desirous of submitting the affair to the investigation of a national council. To this end, he convoked the bishops, prelates, and abbots of the kingdom,
in the
town of Etampes.
eyei
l^
fixed,
light of sanctity, and who, in Rome, as in France, waa revered as the oracle of truth, could not be dispensed from appearing at the council. The king himself wrote a most
pressing letter to him, urging him to come to Etampes ; and several of the most influential bishops joined their entreaties
to those of the
monarch to
prevail
hesitate,
when he saw
the Church.
bishops,
He came
and the princes, who were assembled in great numbers, received hun as an angel from God. After all had celebrated a solemn fast, they began their sitting, and
was unanimously agreed that the solution of this important question should be left to the man whose word would be to
it
all
will.
and trem-
bling, the awful conmiission which the august assembly had imposed upon hun. He dared not refuse. He impartially
examined the
electors,
titles
of the
two
elected.
He
spoke in the
name of aU
and
all
Holy Ghost. But was the real Pope and the sovereign head of the Church, the whole assembly rose, and confirmed by universal acclamation the choice (/ St. Bernard, and the jyihiM of tht
legitimate Poutiffl
present heard him as the organ of the when he had proclaimed that Innocent II.
166
msTOBT or
sr.
BkHNiBa
CHAPTER XYIIL
flONTIKUATION OP THE SCHISM AT ROMI&-ST. BERNARD CAUSES IN NOCENT n. TO BE RECOGNIZED BY THE PRINCIPAL CHRISTIAN POWERSTHE ANTIPOPE, ANACLETUS, FOUNDS THE KINGDOM Of
SICILY.
The holy monk of Clairvaux, with no other strength than that which was given him from on high, had thus dispersed, with one word, the cloud which had overshadowed Christendom.
manded
After the example of his Divuae Master, he comthe winds and the waves, and no power could resist
the voice of the messenger of God. Thus, in the darkest times of the Church, rays of light always proceed from some
human
race.
in
the strength of his mission, was to instruct kings and pastors ; and disperse, with the breath of his word, the vain designs of the enemies of God.
The
Kmg
of France
of the Church.
His
The
latter
m person.
the queen, his Bons, and a numerous suite of princes prelates, amo j^t whom was the humble Bernard, Louis
Accompanied by and
VI.
proceded to tlie small town of St. Benolt-sur-Loire, where he awaited Innocent II. ; and there, "like a truly fatthfid
pince,''^
ihe successor
Many
mterview ; and the king promised the Pontiff that he would give him effectual proofs of his attachment on al]
in this
ccasioQs.
INNOCINT IL
161
Since the decision of the Conncil of Etampes, the French GoTerament awaited, from day to day, the resolutions of the kings of Germany and England. The latter remamed
in
conflict-
The most influential ing opinions of the Enghsh bishops. of their number were inclined to favor the pretensions of
Anacletus
;
whether
it
by
character of which Innocent had given proof during the pontificate of his predecessor ; however it may have been,
it was thought expedient, at this critical moment, to send St Bernard to Henry I. to enlighten his conscience, and gain him over to the cause which had triumphed in France. This
mission
was completely
his
successful.
attributing
Bernard said to him, with the boldness of an apostle " You hesitate to acknowledge Pope Innocent, from the fear of
Well, you may be uneasy abgut the other committing sin sins for which you will have to answer but as to this one, I
1 ;
take
it upon myself, and I will answer for you before God." These words astonished the king, and put an end to his
perplexity.
and,
of Clairvaux, he went
presents,
in his
that of
Lotharius,
of Germany,
;
and England
an assembly of German
convoked at Wurtz-
burg. Innocent II. was proclauned the lawful Pope. Spain likewise submitted to Innocent; and, thanks to the active
interference of St. Bernard, all the other Christian princes
168
msroBT of
st.
bibnabd.
mcked. I have engaged them to exterminate every powef which seeks to raise itself above the wisdom of God. Our
labor has succeeded.
of Germany, France, Engand Jerusalem, have espoused the The people and the clergy of all cause of Pope Innocent. these kingdoms acknowledge him as their father and their
The kings
head
spirit
they
all
the
bond of peace."
However, Anacletus' party was not to be intimidated by these serious reverses. He had zealous auxiliaries in several
countries, especially
effort to insure the
The
representative of
Honorius, Gerard, Bishop of Angoul^me, who, havmg been deposed from his oflflce of nuncio by Pope Innocent, on account of his reprehensible conduct, attached Mmself, from a spirit of opposition, to the antipope, who restored to hun the
title
The whole province of Aquitaine was opand Duke WilUam, who acted by his pressed by directions. Whoever refused to acknowledge Peter di Leone as Pope, was exposed to cruel persecutions bishops were
of legate.
this bishop,
;
ment or heavy
"
fines.
This perfidious old man," says an historian of the time, "had sowed the seeds of discord in the province of Bordeaux.
Like the ancient serpent, he tormented the prince by his treacherous suggestions, and breathed into him the spirit of
disorder
and
revolt."
by violence and seduction, spread in the south through proportion as it was checked in the north, and threatened to break Catholic unity in the proschism, supported
vinces over which the
The
despotic rule.
Duke of Aquitaine exercised his Bordeaux, Tours, Auch, and the beautifui
IKNOCENT n.
169
provinces inclosed between the Pyrenees and the Loire, and bordered by the ocean, were then under the jurisdiction arro-
St.
the Apostle of the Gentiles,, was burdened with the care of all the churches, was alarmed at this imminent danger. He
would have desired to go in person to the scene of discord, but as he to stifle it in its bu:th and confound its authors
;
unportance, he addressed an admirable epistle to the Bishops of Aquitaine, iu which he exposes the real state of things, and discusses the motives which rendered valid the election of
for affairs of
no
less
Innocent II.
This epistle
is
full
length;
this
we
^* Virtue, which
is
rend Fathers, to signalize your virtue. The sword, which threatens the whole body of the Church, is hangmg over
your heads
the nearer
it is,
the more
it is
to be feared,
and
the more dangerous and mortal will be its blows. How foolish and vam is the passion of this old man, who dishonors his age and his priesthood for an ephemeral title, and a
will pass away from hun What an abominable crune to re-open by a schism the wound our Saviour's side, whence flowed that blood and water which united all
power which
Can any man divide them without 1 enemy of His cross, and the accomplice of His death ? fierce passion I have already said it, and he does not deny that he had the impudence to endeavor to obtam the object of his ambition from the lawful Pope ; and It was only when he was piqued by his refusal, that he esnations in one faith
becommg
the
poused the cause of the schismatic. And with that sacrilegious hand he holds a power which he now uses to pierce the Bafiour's side, and ravage the Church I But one daj he shall
170
k)ok on
msroRT of
st.
bernird.
.
. .
However it may
;
shall
be accomphshed
it
must be that scandals come, but nevertheless, wo to that man And who is the miserable by whom the scandal cometh
not he who, spite of the canonical election of the head of the Church, has taken possession of
if
it is
is
ex-
The pretended
for his malice.
election
by which he
justifies himself,
or, rather,
a pretext
fact, the
is,
In
matter
common law
in this
that after a
first
was
null.
The Even
supposing that some of the prescribed formalities had been wanting in the first election, as the defenders of the schism assert, was it lawful to proceed to a second election without
havmg exanuned
valid judgment ?
first
and annulled
it
by a
Besides
one regards the personal merit of the two competitors ; the As to the person, other relates to the form of their election.
that I
may
flatterer, I
what
is
said everywhere,
and cannot be
de-
and reputation of the Pope are above rival is not secure from the tongues of his
to the formahties of the two elections,
first in
own
friends.
And as
is
that of Innocent
the
who have
the order of time, the purest elected him, and the most
canonical according to the rules of justice. As far as regards the priority, nobody can dispute it ; and the election was made by the most sound portion of the cardinals, bishops, priests, and deacons, to whom appertains the right of nammg
the Pope. Thus, according to the ancient constitutions, the nmnber of votes was sufficient to render this election valid.
IfJcnrooTer,
iNNOCENT n.
ni
Obda, to whom this privilege is reserved ? If, then, there ia more virtue in the person elected, more inlfcgrity in the electors,
more order and legality in the forms of the election, by what fatal obstinacy do they endeavor to substitute another
made against all the rules of justice, against the will of good men, and contrary to the desires of the universal
election
Church
This energetic declaration dissipated the doubts and revived the courage of the bishops to whom it was addressed. But
the
Duke
lyzed
of Aquitaine, and his perfidious counsellor, parato restore peace and unity. The disor-
dered state of these unfortunate provinces continued on the increase, and St. Bernard, inflamed with zeal for the house
of God,
was
sion
was called by the oppressed Innocent had charged him with another misPope he was summoned to accompany the Pontiff to GerInnocent
II.,
many.
all
had unceasingly turned his thoughts and, henceforth, only aspired to sit on the chair of St. Peter. Now, amongst all the princes of Christthe Catholic powers,
towards
Rome
inter-
ested in opening to the Pontiff the gates of the capital of the world for in that ancient metropolis of Christendom, he waa
;
destined, like
Innocent, therefore, addressed himself to Lotharius, to obtain an interview, in order to concert with him a plan for
traversing Italy,
and making himself master of Rome. The month of October, in the same
Lotharius went thither with the
town of Liege.
and a numerous
suite of men-at-
a few dayi accompanied by St. Bernard and a pompous retinue f cardinals and Roman prelates.
latter arrived
The
173
BISTORT or
ST.
BIBiTABD.
He made lus entry into the town amidst an immense co com-se of people, and a tumultuous manifestation of popular The King of Germany seemed, on this occasion, piety.
desirous of proving to the people the perfect reconciliation of the papacy and the empire. He walked humbly on foot
alongside of the Pope, holding, with ont hand, the. bridU of on which Innocent was moimted, and with a
wand in his other hand he opefned a way through the crowd which thronged around him. On the Suger. Viter. Lud vi. following Sunday, the Pontiff celebrated a solemn mass,
in the presence of
protestations of concord
sides.
But
per-
haps, rather too ostentatiously and affectedly not to leave some cause for vague presentiments. Disinterestedness was
and
if
he granted the
Pope an army to lead him to Rome, it was sure to have been on exorbitant conditions. In fact, the forebodings of
the
Roman
were realized to an extent beyond what had been apprehended. Lotharius, when he had promised the Pope the
assistance of his arms, haughtily clahned for himself the
privilege of mvestiture,
before
the
concordat of
Worms.
He
precarious position of the Pope would secure a successful answer to his untimely demand. But he was deceived.
Innocent remained
inflexible,
and
anger of the king ; but his situation was most perilous ; and the Roman prelates, struck with dismay, trembled on
beholding the Sovereign Pontiff defenceless in a German Their remembrance city, surrounded by a strong army.
of the outrages which Henry V. had offered to popes and tardmals was too recent not to excite terrible apprehensioM ;
THi Aimpopi.
Its
and they believed this to be a far more fearful snare than the dangers from which they had escaped in Rome.
However, the storm did not break forth St. Bernard was there to allay it. Full of holy boldness, he opposed
;
himself,
hke a wall of
crown, and combated them with the arms of his irresistible He recalled to the mmd of Lotharius his former eloquence.
engagements, and the promises to which he owed his elevation to the throne ; he reminded him that if the Church, at
arm of the empu*e, the empu-e, on the other hand, no less needed the support of the Church. Lotharius was silent ; he consented not to press
that moment, stood in need of the
his claims
any further
is
but he evmced
his dissatisfaction,
by breaking
Italy.
campaign
in
It
Rome would
not be so easy.
The
antipope had displayed great activity during the absence of Innocent, and had provided himself with numerous resources.
Being now master of Rome, he had augmented its troops and defences he reUed on the north of Italy, whose people
;
and
in the south,
a remarkable
event seemed destined to consohdate his power. have already said that the Normans of Upper Italy were the first to acknowledge the election of Anacletus.
We
This bold people, finding themselves too much circumscribed in the beautiful province which they had conquered from France, had settled in Calabria and Apulia, under the
guidance of William Bras-de-Fer, and Humphrey, son of but in 1061, Robert Quiscard, the
;
Norman, and Duke Roger, having no more enemies to oppose them, aspired to erect their vast conquests, in Italy and Sicily, mto a kingdom. Roger II., son of the latter,
was destined to accomplish this design. Until that time, Sicily had never had a national existence; it had nerev
i*li
BISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
many
centuries,
had been,
in turn,
tions.*
Duke
invaded and possessed by foreign nac Roger II., after the entire defeat of the
Saracens, resolved to unite, under his sceptre, his Italian possessions and the rich provinces of the ancient Trinacria ;
and, according to the spirit of the age, he addressed himself to the Pope to obtain the royal crown, together with the title of king. The schism seemed to offer him a favorable
Normans
in favor of
Anacletus.
been, the latter promised the pontifical sanction to the election of the kingdom of Sicily and Italy, in return for Roger's formal engagement to
it
However
may have
The
lend a helpmg hand against the pretensions of Innocent. authentic act was drawn up ; and it is asserted, from
* Since the fabulous times, the coasts of Sicily have been invaded all the celebrated nations of antiquity, who have left lasting
by almost
terest
Hence,
we may
at the
be met with in that country present day ; and which, by their infinite variety, form a kind of mosaic, worthy of being studied, on account of its contrasts. " The traveller," says a judiiious writer, who has visited this country, "will
and the
original traits
which are
to
him.
He
recognize the footprints of the several nations who have ruled over it ; he will read its history in its monuments an immense volume, in which the different epochs are represented by a temple, a basilica, or
a fortress
rics tc
he will pass from shapeless Cyclopean and Phoenician fab; Doric temples, raised by the Greek colonists ; Roman arenas, Moorish castlee, Norman chapels, and sombre dungeons of feudal times; and, alongside of the pompous ruins of departed glory, h
will
Sicily,
by Baro*
i de BuMi^re
THE ANTIPOPE.
1Y5
in Roger's papers, that, in order to attach the kingdom of Sicily more closely to the cause of the Holy See, the schismatical Pope promised him the dignity of patrician of Rome, and, perhaps, even the crown of the
German
empure.
After
this treaty,
festival of the
may
easily
be conceived
how much
Church and the empire were complicated by this event. Anacletus had established in some sort a mutual relation
between
in
his cause
Roger a powerful
and that of the new kingdom. He found defender, who was doubly interested in
the triumph of the antipope, as he had to fear the vengeance of Lotharius and the success of Innocent. Moreover, the
pretensions of
had been acknowledged by Lotharius. Anselm, the Archbishop of Milan, who had crowned Conrad, drew the province
of
Lombardy into
take up arms
m order to
the schism, and persuaded the Milanese to oppose any attempt that Lotharius
might make
in favor of Innocent.
They were
resolved to
mans and
Sicilians.
these various incidents, the interests of the Kling of Germany were necessarily united to those of the lawful Pope ;
By
and, notwithstanding their differences, they were obliged to come to an understanding, in order to act in concert. They
were compromised by the league of the schismatics and of Ike malcontent subjects of the empire ; and they both had to
176
HI8T0RT OF
ST.
BEBNARD.
oppose a schism whose head-quarters were in Italy, a^^id which served as a rallymg-point for all parties. war
became
np
his
inevitable.
conduct in the
field ; and, irritated by the Pope'i of investitures, he let him depart without touching on the principal object of the conference of Liege
aflfair
Innocent
left
thankful that he
sions
Germany, dissatisfied with Lotharius, but had escaped the snare, and resisted preten
Churches.
which would have again troubled the security of the He returned to France, and suffered events to
Italy
take their course, in the firm persuasion that a campaign in would be the inevitable result of the state of affairs.
la the mean time, St. Bernard, after urgent entreaties, obtained permission to return to Clau:vaux, to recover from his fatigues, and satisfy the ardent longings of his brethren.
He had hardly arrived there, when he received a visit from the Bishop of Paris. That prelate came, in a state of deep afl^ction, to inform him of a horrible crime, which had filled
ftU
CHAPTER XIX
ASSASSINATION OF
A MONKST. BERNARD PURSUES THE AUTHORS Of THE MURDERr-HE RECEIVES A VISIT FROM POPE INNOCENT IL AT CLAIEVAUXHISTORY OF DUKE WILLIAMCOUNCIL OF RHEIMS.
The successive reforms which the Bishop of Paris had in troduced into his diocese, had long provoked the murmurs of worldly ecclesiastics. Jealousy fomented discord between
and the pious intentions of the ; bishop were universally frustrated by the intrigues of some members of his own clergy. But these difficulties did not
the pastors of the flock
abate his
zeal, or
bend
his firmness
He had
ASSASSINATION OF A MONK.
117
on
tor,
who
and
lent
This religious,
learned man, was deservedly trusted and esteemed ; and, on this account, he was a fittmg subject for the resentment
which had been aroused by the bishop's reforms. Among the number of those who were distinguished by their implacable animosity was the Canon Thibaut Nautier,
Archdeacon of the Church of Paris. His mtrigues and malversations had more than once awakened the vigilance of the
Prior of St. Victor, and he was only sheltered from the pursuit of justice by. his
abused.
Thirbaut meditated
arm
his
own nephews.
the bishop, accompanied by Thomas, was day, from a diocesan visitation, they were attacked at returning the gates of Paris by the nephews of the archdeacon, and
One
when
Thomas fell, mortally wounded, into the arms of his bishop, who held him m his embrace to defend him. He died, pardoning his murderers.
They took
solicit
to flight,
and
their uncle
At this time, Stephen, overwhelmed with sorrow, came to Clairvaux, to obtain St. Bernard's intervention with Innocent. But we must hear the account of the crime from his own lips. In the following simple and moving terms he
informs the Pope, in a letter dated from Clairvaux : " The learned Thomas, Prior of St. Victor, a monk of
great piety, went on a journey one Sunday, by my orders, together with several other monks. He was doing the work
of
in
God
in
spirit
of charity,
when he was
cruelly
murdered
arms, thus becoming the victim of justice and obedience. . . The sobs, which are mingled with my words,
my
It
is
enough
178
HISTORY OP
OT.
BERNARD.
to recount simply what has happened in order that youf Alas I paternal heart may feel the weight of my affiction.
I have
now
losing him
for
he
fulfilled
whom
I have the
of bishop, but
Holiness, I beseech you to let him know that God has heard His nephews were the instruments the voice of my tears.
of the crime
instigator.
I pray your Holiness to give no credit to his recital until you are thoroughly informed of the truth."
St. Bernard,
mflamed with
his
zeal,
same
subject,
and
the
eL
which devoured Joseph has taken refuge with you, most holy Father, to escape from the pursuit of our faithful dogs
!
What
folly wandering, runs to the place where he has most to fear I What, does he mistake the seat of justice for a cave of robbers ? Dost
!
an excess of
terrified assassin,
thou dare, thy mouth reekuag with the blood thou hast shed,
to appear before the father's eyes after having killed the
child
on
If he
;
he must not certainly be rejected but if he only demands an audience, grant it, holy Father, yes, grant it to him.
But grant
it
as
Moses granted
it
to the idolaters, as
you of your predecessor's example, receive him as Peter received Ananias and Sapphira."
St. Bernard's zeal,
culprit,
m calling
justice.
but we may
TISIT
1*79
that several prelates Jttdge of its importance by the fact, assembled with the Abbot of Clairvaux, in order to consult
as to the best
About
the
Roman
The
prelates,
came solemnly
contem
own
:
God.
simple language " The poor of Jesus Christ received the Pontiff with ex
m his own
treme affection.
purple and
silk,
;
to meet
and
silver
nor carrying church books inlaid with gold then* rough habits, bearbut simply clothed
ing a
wooden
cross,
and manifestmg
clangor of sounding trumpets, nor with cries of tumultuous rejoicing, but with the sweet and modest chantmg of sacred
hymns. The bishops wept ; the Pope, likewise, shed tears all admired the mild gravity and the humble and mortified
(demeanor of this band of holy monks. The magnificence of the reception which they gave to the Head of the ChurcL
did not consist in great banquets, but in great virtues. Their bread, instead of being of pure wheaten flour, was made of
flour
there
plain wine (petit vin) instead of sweet wine ;* herbs mstead of meat ; and vegetables were served in place of any
was
by chance, there was some fish, was placed before the Pope, rather to be seen than to be
But
if,
eaten."
The word aapa rather means an extract of )irlM iStepa pro carno. than wine, from whence, probably, is derived our term tovp. It is dac
translated
by petii
w,n.
180
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Innocent, after having spent some days in this holj soli hide, set out on his journey, and continued his visits to thi
and abbeys in France, exciting everywhere feelmgs of filial gratitude by the blessings which he bestowed on the people. At Paris he was received with great magniprincipal churches
ficence.
The Jews
meet hun,
came
forth to
full
veil.
The Pope
received
them with
:
Auferat Deus ommjpotens vdarmn a amdibus vestris (may the Almighty remove the veil from your hearts) !" He reat the Easter the of St. mained, during festival, Denis, Abbey
office of
Saturday, watching all night, and wearing on his head an embroidered tiara with a golden circlet.
Meanwhile, the visit to Clairvaux was not slow in produTwo important matters had been decided : cing its results. the departure of St. Bernard to Aquitaine, and the convocation of a General Council at Rheims.
mission to Aquitaine which was intrusted to St Bernard, and Joscelm, Bishop of Soissons, were both perU-
The
extended from the frontiers of Picardy to the mountains of Navarre, was under the dominion of the young Prmce Wil
whom we have already mentioned in the precedmg chapter, but his history is sufficiently remarkable to call for
liam,
some
details.
X., who was afterwards father-in-law to the of and England, and grandfather to Richard France Kings Coeur-de-Lion, belonged to the illustrious house of the
WilUam
Counts of Poitou, who had assumed the title of Dukes of He had been brought up amid all the pomps of Aquitaine. % splendid court and from an early age he gave proofs of
;
fatal propensity to
evil
DDKK WILLIAM
But,
X.
181
states,
by the ontunely death of William IX., he found most powerful himself, while yet very young, one of the feudatory lords of France, and one of the richest princes of
and extravagant man, of a good knight a athletic proportions and gigantic height was combined digin his an old writer person arms, says
his
time
He
was a
brilliant
nity
all comers
he showed himself
" that chronicler says, both formidable and fascinating. at one meal he was hardly satisfied with what would have
prime of life. He could not live without fighting, and even when his provinces were at peace, he went always armed, and obhged his
sufficed for eight robust persons in the
mal
one another.
In
;
warfare
another god Bel in the quantity of meats which he con* sumed another King Herod in his crimes and incests ; for
;
the
Sodomites,
of
his
crimes
and misde-
meanors."
taine
St.
Such was the head of the schismatical party in Aqui such was the man to whom it was thought fit to send ;
Bernard.
this mission still
more
difficult
waa
the unlimited credit which Gerard enjoyed with this prince, doubtless on account of his toleration of William's scandalous
life.
zeal of the
not
damp
the
Clairvaux.
year 1131, he arrived in the territory of the Duke of Aquitaine, and went, with the Bishop of Soissons, to a monas-
Without tery of his order at Chatelliers, near Poictiers. means of an the a he considered obtaining moment, losing
He disdained all underhand interview with the sovereign. ways, and trusting in the omnipotence of grace^ he wenl
182
rtraiglit
HISTORY OP
to his end
ST.
BERNARD.
by sending a message to the dukfij to the monastery at ChatelUers. him to come requesting This bold procetding astonished the monks but William
;
letter
all,
and remained seven entbe days with the man of God. Wonderful event The heart of this priuce, harder than
I
stone,
was melted
like
wax under
the apostohc word, and he did not leave the saint until he
had promised to make amends for his crimes and do penance. However, the moment had not yet come for the decided
triumph of divme grace.
palace,
when
his
courage
failed hun,
The
which
St.
him from the salutary resolutions Bernard had suggested to him and, as it fre;
quently happens, his last state became worse than the first. He abandoned himself anew to his passions, with so much
the
close the
wound which
the
saint's
to
to
his heart ; and, words, like a fiery dart, had made fresh ardor he himself with remorse, gave up
the
delirium
of
crime.
From
that
seemed triumphant, and there were no bounds to its violence Gerard took possession of the vacant Archbishopric of
Bordeaux, and retained, at the same time, the Bishopric of Angoul^me and not satisfied, as long as he saw a single
;
in Aquitaine, he banished from the episcopal see the venerable Bishop of Poictiers ^the last of the bishops in that province who had remained firm
and loyal to the legitimate Pope. Bernard being summoned to the Council of Rheims waa unable to remain in Aquitaine to conclude the work he had
in the faith
begun. His presence in William's dominions had caused so Buich uneasiness to Gerard's adherents that all his move*
DUKE WILLIAM
X.
188
ments were watched, and he was eyen threatened with certam time was necesdeath if he left his monastery.
was aware
of this,
ordering events and disposing the minds of men, he left the land of schism and went to Rheims, in obedience to the
commands
of the Sovereign Pontiff. After an interval of four years had elapsed, the Abbot of Clairvaux perceived, by various providential indications,
the issue of affairs in Aquitaine. He was at that time in Brittany, in the territories of the
Countess Ermengarde, where he was about to found a new monastery. The legate of Pope Innocent joined hun there,
and having taken leave of this worthy daughter of the servant of God, they both proceeded to visit Aquitaine They uiformed Duke William that they had undertaken this
journey to consult with him as to the means of restoring peace to the Church and remedying the evils which aflQicted her. It was represented to the duke that he ought not to
refuse
far to sohcit
an audience to the man of God, who had come so it, as by his intervention it would, perhaps, be
The essential point was to obtain a conference, and in this St. Bernard succeeded. He represented to the duke the horrors of schisms in the
Catholic Church and using threats and prayers in turn, with that power which instantaneously subdued all hearts, he exhorted William to put an end to the revolt and to William, although yield obedience to Pope Innocent.
;
He promised obedience to the lawful Pope without, however, consenting to the restoration of those bishops who had been dispossent to the counsels of the minister of peace.
l84
St.
BISTORT OF
ST.
BERNABD.
satisfied
Ha
tmsed to
left
ad
God
as Tnan, says a contemparary biographer, and Himself to act. On the day that the conference
to be continued, he was officiating at the altar, when, at once, he stopped in the midst of celebrating the holy mysteries ; he laid the Sacred Host on the patten, and then,
all
was
with a kindhng countenance and flashing eye, he left the altar, and approaching the astonished prince with a firm " have long made use of entreaties," he said, " and step,
We
several servants of
God have
united
and you have made no account of them. Behold, now, the Yirgin's Son, who cometh to thee. He whom thou persecutest, the Head and the Lord
their suppHcations to ours,
in
of the Church, the Judge at whose name every knee bows Heaven on earth and in hell Into His hands ^into
the hands of the Just Avenger of crime ^the soul which lives within thee will fall. Wilt thou despise Him also ?
Here
St.
;
Bernard was
silent ; the awe-struck people held the tears and confusion of those present betrayed all awaited in anguish the result of this unheard
of act, which seemed to be the presage of a sudden manifestation of divine power. The terrified William could not utter
word his knees trembled under him he ground and when his guards raised him up he
a
single
; ; ;
fell
fell
to the
down
Then the servant of God touched him, and commanding hun by a sign to arise, he continued thus " Go," he said, with a calm and solemn voice, "go immediately and be recon:
ciled
his see
with the Bishop of Poictiers, whom you have driven from ; give him the kiss of peace in token of a new alliance ;
conduct hun yourself to his church, and render him an honof eqnal to the injuries you have heaped on him ; recall to Catho*
DUKE WILLLiM X
Cc unity
all
18fi
those
who have
fallen
away by
discord or schism,
whom God
has raised
Holy Ghost, which flowed from the lips, the eyes, and man of God, was now only a passive instrument of the Divine will. He went immediately and executed punctually the orders he had received he made hia reconciliation with the Bishop of Poictiers, gave hun the kiss of peace, conducted him to his church, rendered homage to
of the
Amidst the public joy and admiration caused by this event, one man alone resisted the Holy Spirit of God. That man was Gerard. More hardened than ever m his obstinacy, he
only awaited St. Bernard's departure to renew his guilty inHe was carried off by a trigues ; but his hour was come.
sudden death, without having time to acknowledge his errors. His nephews, whom he had enriched with the goods of the
Church, found him one morning expiring on his bed, horribly swollen, and, in the attitude of a criminal, cursing and blaspheming.
As for William, the ray of heavenly grace which had humbled him to the ground, wrought in him the wonderful phenomenon of a He was no complete transformation. the same since divine had man, longer light triumphed over his darkness. Absorbed in the contemplation of that light
to which he had so long been a stranger, racked with remorse, bathed in tears, and eager to do penance, he resolved to finish his mortal career by the expiation of a holy death ;
and generously renouncing riches, power, and honors, he buried himself in solitude, where his life, like a torrent which
conceals itself in the cavities of the earth, disappeared from the eyes of the world, without leaving any traces which historians could collect.
Before h
186
left his
HISTOBY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
domains forever, wishing to settle the inheritance of he summoned the Bishop of Poictiers, whom
now ao
his esteem.
He
intrusted to
him
which has been preserved by the annalist of Citeaux. This document deserves a place here ; but its length only permits " In the name us to extract the most interesting portions.
of the holy and undivided Trinity, one only God 1 This is my Testament. I, William, by the grace of God, in the presence of William, Bishop of Poictiers, in honor of the
Saviour of the world, of the holy martyi's, confessors, virgins, Penetrated with sorand, above all, of the Virgin Mary.
row
inconceivable audacity, through the suggestion of the devil ; and filled with a fear of the last judgment ; considering,
moreover, that the goods which we enjoy here below perish in our hands like unto smoke which disappears in the air ;
that
we can hardly
life is
time of our
pass an hour without sinning ; that the very short ; that those things of which we
fancy ourselves the masters are frail and perishable, and that they only cause us pain and disquietude ; I abandon myself
Christ,
whom
I desire to follow,
for
His
love.
my
Eleanor, I give him her hand in marriage, if it is agreeable to my relations, and I bequeath to her Aquitaine and Poitou."
Thus this magnificent prince, who governed as a sovereign the whole of Western France, gave to his age the adnurable
example of an edifying conversion and, at the same time, he bequeathed to the king's son, the young Louis VII., to;
gether with his daughter Eleanor, states even more considerable than those of the crown of France. These two great
COUNCIL OF RHEDIS.
events, >f
181
which
St.
1136.*
But
it
in order to take
events,
may
October, 1131. All the bishops of France, England, Spain, and the Low Countries, and a great number of German prelates, composed this august as-
The king, sembly, over which the Pope presided in person. and the most illustrious lords of the kingdom, were associated in this assembly with the princes of the Church. For," " we were apprehensive lest the king's says Abbot Suger, continual infirmities might deprive us of him suddenly ; and
as he honored us with his confidence,
"
we
advised him to
young son. Prince Louis, in order to avoid the dissensions which might afterwards arise on this matter. He
his
crown
followed our advice, and went to Rheims, accompanied by his son, the queen, and all the grandees of the kingdom."
"
The
torian,
king, Louis-le-Gros," says anothei contemporary histhe midst of the venerable "when he arrived
and kissed
spoke, in
his feet
then,
takmg
his place
and
*
his
moving terms, of the death of his eldest son, Philip words drew tears from all present. The Pope, m him to
raise his thoughts to the
reply, exhorted
It is
King of
that Eleanor, too celebrated by her adventures in the East, at the time of the Crusade, left Louis VII. to ascend the English throne with Henry II., son of Geoffrey Plantagenet, to whom
well
known
ghe brought her dowry, which was nearly one third part of France. Henry II., by this honest but impolitic restitution, became King of
England, Duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, Count of ^ njou, Poitou, Touraine, and Maine. Suger had strenuously opposed this fatal divorce, which dismembered the monarchy, introduced ai enemy int the heart cf the country, and gave rise to the great wars which Viif*
Iftud Sonffht against
188
mSTOBT OF
ST.
BEBNABD.
'
He has taken away Lugs, and to submit to his decrees. your eldest son/ he said, in his innocence, to make him reign
'
below
henceforth in heaven, leaving you other sons to reign here in your place. Therefore, you ought rather to com;
for, as
to us,
we
are exiles
After these preliminaries, the Pope proceeded to the coro" nation of the young king, Louis YII., anointing him with
with which St. Remigius anointed King Clovis at his baptism, and which he had received from the hands of an
the
oil
angel."
The council sat for fifteen days, and, thanks to the activity of St. Bernard, to whom the Pope and the prelates confided the arrangement of almost all their aflfairs, canons of great
miportance to the Church and State were promulgated. Nearly all these canons, to the number of seventeen, were
repeated in the general Council of Lateran ; they formed part of the vast system conceived by Gregory YII., and the reforms which were begun under that great Pontiff, The morals of the clergy and the faithful became the subject of
and
civil
relations,
were determined
On
the
subject of the councils over which Pope Innocent presided during hi* journeys, Professor Neander, of Berlin, renders a homage to the Sov-
we
We translate literally
their people, even when they are banished from their See, and obliged to gc to war to regain it. Their journeys, which were often caused bj
disturbances in Eome, turned to the advantage of those states through which they passed, as they learned thus to know the state of the
variooft
wei^
EXPEDITION OP LOTHARIUa.
181
The assembly,
after having
done
all
improvement of the moral state of the people, concluded their deliberations, and were about to separate, when good tidings came, which filled the Pope and cardmals with joy. The venerable Norbert,
council, presented to
would allow
for the
Archbishop of Magdeburg, arrived at Rheims, and, in full the Pontiff letters from the King of
Germany, by which Lotharius renewed his homage, and announced that he was ready to open the campaign in Italy
with
all
CHAPTER
XX
THE EXPEDITION OP LOTHARIUS TO ITALYST. BERNARD RESTOIUal PEACE TO THE ITALIAN REPUBLICS, AND RECONCILES THE FAMILY OP THE HOHENSTAUFFEN WITH LOTHARIU&COUNCIL OP PISA.
The
critical state
of affairs in
Germany was
far
from
Obstacles justifying the ostentatious promises of Lotharius. arose on werj side to the Italian campaign ; and the state of
affairs
was
was
obliged,
more
than once, to abandon his projects, or defer them to some other time. He had to overcome the supineness of the
princes of the empire,
assistance of their arms,
who were not disposed to lend hun the and his own secret repugnance to
his elevation to the throne,
the
Roman
l^ontiff.
He owed
and authority
isting evils."
to the
which were
called together to
remedy ex-
Abb
Fleury, on the contrary, in his Ecclesiastical History (vol. xiv., liv. Ixviii., p. 425), expresses tne following vile sentiment on the subject
of Pope Innocent's journeys: "The Pope continued to visit the ehnrches of France, supplying his wants from their abundance, which
was a great burden to them." I should answer him with Christ '* Tha oooi yu have always with you, but me you have not always/'
19C
It is
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
but
he had not gained their esteem, and when he reqmred their concmrence for the pacification of Italy, they remained shut
up
empire, and thus testifying their disapprobation of an enterprise which they considered to be ill-tuned, and above
man
the power of Lotharius to accomplish. The most formidable ol these princes, Frederic of Hohenstauffen, the brother of
Conrad, who had been crowned King of Italy, had assumed a threatenmg attitude, in revenge for the rigor with which he had been treated, and he seemed to be only awaiting the departure of Lotharius, in order to rally his numerous adherents around him
In the meanwhile, Lotharius persisted m his resolution, in He was aware that the imspite of all these difficulties
crown alone would be able to strengthen his tottering authority in Germany, and enhance the majesty of the throne
perial
in the eyes of the
German
princes.
It
he should receive
this
Pope. He, therefore, pursued his plan ; and, trusting in Providence, he exposed himself to the chances of this perilous expedition.
their assistance,
he suc-
ceeded, with mfinite difficulty, in coUectmg an army of from fifteen hundred to two thousand men, and he set out on his
When he expedition under the most gloomy auspices. arrived in the city of Augsburg, which was devoted to the family of Hohenstauffen, the citizens received the royal
troops with contempt ; bloody quarrels arose between them and this ancient city was soon almost entirely consumed by
flames.
Lotharius,
city,
with
his
his
troops,
hastily quitted
the
bummg
and continued
by
this
During
this
191
prey to unexpected arrival, added to the news of the expedition of Lotharius, made a deep impression on the Italians ; and, whilst the adherents of Conrad and Anacletus maintamed a
had been agreed, they awaited the army which They did not remain inacthis unfortunate country, which had been so long a the sad consequences of schism and anarchy. Their
awaiting the issue of events, without comthemselves the partisans of Innocent and Lothapromising rius took fresh courage, and revived their hopes.
prudent reserve
.facilitate
affairs seemed providentially designed to the restoration of Cathohc unity in Christendom ; and St. Bernard was the instrument, in God's hands, for the
This state of
accomplishment of this great work. In the principal cities of Italy through which he passed, he preached peace, and endeavored to reconcile the hostile parties with one another
Amongst
distin
guished by their implacable animosities. were added to the long-standing rivalry of these two mari-
Fresh grievances
time powers, and they almost daily attacked each other with fire and sword, without regard to the rights of war, and
Milan, Pavia, Cresparing neither prisoners nor property. of Lombardy, all the cities and mona, Placentia, nearly
suffered
from the
religious dissensions.
In the meanwhile,
St.
peared amongst these armed multitudes, in obedience to the He announced peace the midst of war, Pontiff's orders.
and
his words,
like
a ray of
light, pierced
through the
At his voice the Genoese, intoxicated gloomiest clouds. with their recent success, laid down their arms ; they liberated then* slaves, set free then* prisoners, and signed a treatj of peace which the saint presented to them. Pisa, no lesi
all
the conditi<?us of
192
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Biucere reconciliation.
example
Other cities followed their touching and, under the footsteps of St. Bernard, as the
prophet expresses it, "The valleys were filled, the mountains were brought low, the ways were made plain, and the
the
hearts of these people, and he desired to make them all one heart and soul. This was his constant thought, and in all his labors and missions, whatever might be their object, his
only ami was to unite Christians, by the living bonds of the Gospel, applying, as much as possible, to social constitutions, the harmonious laws under which monastic republics flourished.
and, by
cities
subject of his discourses ; the divine power of the evangelical word, he made
tremble, and took their people captive. They were aa eager to hear him as he was desirous to nourish them with the word. He never took any rest. From morning to
night he applied himself incessantly to preaching, or particular conferences he made himself all thmgs to all men, likf
;
the Apostle of the Gentiles, and won all hearts to himself The fruits of this mission of peace were beyond all expressioa So great was the admiration which he excited in Genoa,
that the archbishop himself offered to resign his pastoral charge to St. Bernard but the humble monk was not to be
;
moved
either
by the
of their pastor.* Nothing can better enable us to appreciate the wonderful changes wrought in these republics, than the very words of
St. Bernard, taken
from
his letters
"To
the consuls, the magistrates, and all the people of Oh, what consolation I experienced,"
he writes, "during the short time I abode amongst you! I announced the Faithful people, never will I forget you !f
t
The
This was the second time he refused the Archbishopric of Genoa, afifection of the Genoese for St. Bernard has been transmitted
OORRISrONDENCl.
Divine
l^'4
word
it.
to you, and,
to hear
you are
chit
dren of peace, peace rested on you. I sowed the seed, and as it fell on a good soil, it produced a hundred-fold. My stay was short, because I was pressed for tune ; but I met
with no obstacles or delays. I had the happiness of sewing in one day ; and, as the fruit of my mis-
captives, terror to
brought hope to those who were exiled, liberty to our enemies, confusion to schismatics,
I
. .
r^hat now
dearly beloved, but to excite you to ? This is the crown of all the other virtues, perseverance and the characteristic of heroes. Without it, the warrior
remains,
my
cannot triumph.
glory.
By
it,
It
is
magnanimity
In a word,
begin
the sister of patience, and the daughter of the friend of peace, the companion of holy
affections, the
bond
of concord,
must persevere unto the end." *7 To Peter, Bishop of Pavia, who had loaded him with
^we
if
we would be saved
praises,
he answered thus:
"The
fruit of
good
seed,
which
has been sown on a good soil, belongs to Him who provides the seed, who makes the earth fertile, who causes the grain
to
fruit.
In
all
this,
what can I
from age to age ; and these beautifiil words, " FaAtTiful people^ n4vt wiU Iforget you /" remained graven on their memory, and were realized in the course of time.
The
the
Duke
assault.
of Savoy, and the city was on the point of being taken by In this extremity the inhabitants, mindful of St. Bernard's
promise, made a solemn vow to the saint ; and their confidence was not misplaced. On the eve of his feast, a Spanish fleet arrived, ui>
expectedly, to deliver them, and saved the republic from destructioi In grateful acknowledgment of this visible intervention, Genoa place<?
its^f under the patranage of St. BerniO'd,
and vowed a
filial
homafQ
tir
lin.
194
mSTORT OP
ST.
BERNARD
attribute to myself?
to Jesus Christ
1
^LWo who
it is
is
to me,
beauty of a handwriting
if I usurp tlie glory due changes hearts ; not I. The not the work of the pen, but of
the hand which guides it ; and all I ought to say is, that my tongue has served as a pen to a skilful writer. I opened my month, but you, worthy prelate, you opened your heart ;
I,
you
will
have a
greater reward." J He wrote to Innocent II. to acquaint him with these and this letter, like the rest, breathes a heavenly facts " " would Continual adversity," he writes, cast humihty. j us mto despondency, and a long course of prosperity would
;
v\
inflate us
with pride
therefore, Divine
Wisdom
has
dis-
posed all things so well, that our life is a continual succession of good and evil ; so that evils, far from depressing us,
should enable us better to appreciate the good which follows them; and the prospect of the good which we hope for,
softens the evils
which we endure.
for
havmg
It
is
wiped away our tears, and poured oil on our wounds.'^ "^ with regret that we abridge the edifying correspond-"
ence contained
St.
Bernard's
life.
the precious documents of this epoch of His apostolic labors in Lombardy were
'
more successful than a large army in removing the obstacles which detained Lotharius on the other side of the Alps.
In the sprmg of the year 1133, the German troops entered with no enemies to oppose Italy, surprised that they met
them.
The size of this army was, however, so disproportioned to the magnitude of his design, that it excited the scorn of the Italians ; and although all parties prudently awaited the
issue,
yet none augured success to Lotharius. Even St. Bernard was on the point of losing courage and while deliberations were penduig, as to the best means of accomto reconamend Pope plishing this expedition, he wrote
;
SUCCESS OF LDTHARIUS,
lonocent's cause to the English king, conjuring
195
him to send
cities
reinforcements to the
German
troops.
had contributed wonderfully to pave the to success and the friends of Lotharius had now only way ; reason to fear Roger, the new Kmg of Sicily. But their
Upper
Italy
King
of England became unnecessary. Roger, who had not only usurped the crown of Sicily, but likewise styled himself King of Italy,* had to encounter so
many
made no account
in
this
matter of his engagements with the antipope. The princely families of Italy were stung to the quick at the assumption
Norman house, and then* resentment being aggravated by Roger's brutal conduct, terrible stonns were raised against hun. He had employed his
of the royal dignity by the
and
forces unsuccessfully to re-establish his authority in Italy ; his army being routed, he was obliged to retire to
Sicily
II.,
the gates of
tion,
Rome.
in their perplexity, they listened to the counsels of prudence, vhich warned them to gain time, and prepare the way for reconciliation. To this effect they sent
selves; and,
an embassy of peace to Lotharius to disarm his vengeance, and offer him admission into their city. This was all that
he required.
to
With t is handful
make
himself master of
him
From
^th
the
title
the time of his coronation, Roger had signed of Bo^einut Lei gratia Sicilice 4t Italiat
his decreet
Bm
196
HISTORY OF ST
BERNABD
successful in obtaii'
and he was
ing
it.
On the 29th of August, 1133,* Lotharius entered Rome without meeting any opposition. He concentrated his troops on Mount Aventine, while the Pope took up hia
abode
in the palace of Lateran.
The
;
cities
of Pisa and
Genoa
sent
him some
subsidies
by sea
a tranquil spectator of this extraordinary invasion. As for the antipope, he did not hazard an attempt at
retired to the Castle of St. Angelo with and remained master of the quarter of St. Peter, which he had surrounded with fortifications and barricades, risking no undertaking against an enemy who
resistance.
his adherents,
He
On
take place in St. Peter's Church. In the ancient metropohtan Church of St. John Lateran, this ceremony was
performed, which had been brought about with so much labor, and was so visibly favored by Divine Providence.
There was no display of pomp on the occasion but when once the ceremony had taken place, the relations of the Church and the empu-e were completely changed. In fact,
;
by
this
The
crown
on the head of Lotharius, consecrated his own prerogatives by those which he conferred on the emperor and the latter,
;
ascending the throne of Germany under the double auspices of reUgion and victory, restored to the empire its true
solidity
and
its
ancient splendor
This date does not coincide with that given by Otto of Frisengen. According to that historian, this event took place towards the end of May. It is probably the mistake of a copyist for there are seven, discrepancies on this point, whilst there is none in the different a*
Monui of historians.
191
Anacletus perceived, to
his cause
its
full
manifested a desu-e of entering into a negotiation with the emperor and the latter, in con cert with the Pope, sent to him St. Bernard and the Archreceived.
;
had
He
But the two servants of God found bishop St. Norbert.* the antipope so hardened pride that they soon gave up " The schismatics, without any any effort at reconciliation.
regard to what has already been settled," writes the Abbot of Clairvaux, "call for a council to decide whether InnO"
cent or Anacletus
is
the
lawful
successor
of St. Peter.
God Himself has only a malicious pretext. a decided wish matter which to judge again. already they There is no counsel above the counsel of God His Word
But
this
is
;
runneth swiftly, and it has united kings and people in obedience to Pope Innoijent. Who shall dare to appeai against His judgment ? f God has manifested His justice ; it
shines forth so brightly,' that they
'
not struck by its rays. But to the blmd Ught and dart ness are one and the same thing."
j
Bernard thus indignantly repelled the subterfuges of the schismatics , and havmg broken off all negotiations, LoSt.
tharius left
Rome
with his troops, and hastily recrossed the advantages he had gained
before the eyes of the prmces of the empire. On the 8th of September, he reached Wurtzburg, where the sovereigns of
in
him with
homage.
Fortune having favored his arms, they all valor and his most implacable enemies dared
This latter, in his quality of Archbishop of Magdeburg, fulfilled th ftmctions of chancellor of the kingdom of Italy, while the see of Col<^ne was vacant, to which this title was attached. aocompanied Lotharios to Borne.
In this
ciq>*it9
198
HKTORY OF
ST.
BERNABD.
The
a most alarming' The contending hostile parties, now left to themlituation. selves, were on the pomt of coming to blows ; and Anacletus,
aasty retreat of Lotharius
left
had
Rome
in
lion, says a chronicler, breathing only threads a)id vengeaivce ; while Innocent, although he was supported by the subsidies from Genoa and Pisa, and by the soundest
a furious
portion of the Roman citizens, was unwilling that his presence in Rome should be an occasion of disturbance ; and to
avoid bloodshed, he left the city and retired to Pisa, in which town he provisionally estabUshed the apostolic see.
fet.
In the meanwhile, the watchful Pontiff, who still detained Bernard near his person, heard that Lotharius was hold-
receive, as
empe-
ror, the oath of fealty from the great vassals of Germany, in this noble assembly, a great act of reconciliation was
Frederic and Conrad, the proud heirs had been the cause of
many evils to the empire, had made advances towards LothaLotharius, and demanded to be received into favor. rius had accepted their offer, but he attached very hard conand order to humble the pride of that sovereign house he required that the two brothers should come in the garb of penitents, and prostrate themselves at the foot of the throne, in presence of all the grandees of the
ditions to his pardon,
empire.
On
them
into favor,
and to restore
their domains, of
The two
princes,
felt
my, and they drew back from their engagement at the very moment when Lotharius, seated ol his throne, and vw-
19d
rounded by all the insigma of pomp, awaited the performance of their homage.
At
Bernard,
the
Sovereign Pontiff to the assembly of Bamberg, presented himself, in the name of the God of peace, amongst these im-
He spoke, and they were unable to resist placable princes. the unction of his words j all animosity vanished ; their dissensions were appeased, and the holy monk effected a solemn
reconciliation
emperor. The latter restored their estates in Suabia, and return obtained a promise that they would lend him efficacious assistance for a fresh expedition to Italy.
in
St.
Bernard,
making these stipulations, foresaw all the ad'^wtages that would result therefrom to the Church for besides the appre;
nensions which the projected expedition would raise among the ranks of the schismatics, they would lose, in Conrad,
their poUtical chief,
tector except
Roger of
Abbot
of Clair-
opportunity for a movement in favor of He began by the antipope, to whom he owed his crown. endeavoring to corrupt the Pisans by alternate threats and
vaux was a
fitting
promises.
But when
St.
he hastened back to Italy ; his anxious soUcitude preceded lum ; for, a few days previous to his arrival, the Pisans received a letter burning with apostolic zeal.
*'
To
all
city of Pisa.
You
His inheritance.
the seat of the
effect of
have been specially chosen by God as The Lord has made Pisa another Rome
of the Church.
;
Head
special favor
it is
an ordinance of heavena
This choice
is
not
th<
As He
loves those
who
love
Him,
in
He
200
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
violent.
and firm against his Blessed people I I congratulate you on the graces with which the Lord has favored you. What city ia not jealous of your happiness ? Watch, therefore, vigilanthis threats, insensible to his presents,
machinations.
ly,
is
confided to you.
of
Respect your
. . .
common Father
all Christians.
I have said enough for such a wise and enlightened people." This letter comforted the Pisans, and strengthened them
Shortly afterwards, St. Bernard re-appeared amongst them, on his return to rejoin the Pope, early in the year 1134. new council waa to be held at Pisa,
in their constancy.
about
It
this time.
St.
Bernard reached
The populations of the various cities on his road had detained him in order to hear and see hun, and to enjoy The Milanese, in particular, the blessing of his presence.
the city.
had recourse to his assistance and his counsels.' Conrad, whom they had acknowledged as king, had now deserted them and, encouraged by the example of the neighboring republics, they desired to be reconciled to the Pope, and to
;
Bubmit to Lotharius.
double mission.
To
St.
this
But he was obUged to delay his journey to Milan, on account of the approachmg council, and he wrote the following letter to them
:
expressed by your embassy the sentiments of esteem which you entertain towards me. As I am quite un-
"
You have
from God.
deserving of them, I feel assured that they are an iospiration I am deeply touched by this kindness from a
powerful and illustrious city and I especially appreciate it at a time when her citizens manifest an intention of renounce
ing the schism, and returning to the
bosom
of theur
Mother
vita
Church
After
all, if it
be an honor to me, a
20]
city,
as the
arbitrator of that peace which she desires, I make bold to Bay that it is also honorable to her to make use of my mediation.
. .
wards I
will return
I hasten, therefore, to the council afte^ and I shall be able to amongst you,
;
you
me
and,
if so,
it
comes, bring
to a favorable issue."
The opening of the council was, however, delayed, for some motive which has not been assigned by history. misun-
derstandmg arose between Innocent and the French kmg and the latter forbade the French bishops to go to Pisa.
;
Mutual recriminations gave rise to new difficulties and it " devolved on St. Bernard to end the conflict. Empires and
the sovereigns who rule over them," he wrote to Louis-le" Gros, only prosper in proportion as they are subordinate to the power of God. Wherefore, then, does your majesty
resist the elect of the
Lord,
is
whom you
have acknowledged
Suf-
who
the least of your subjects rank, though not in fideUty, to declare to you, that it is not to your advantage to put any obstacle to a necessary good. I have solid
is
him who
reasons for saying this to your majesty ; and I should mention them here, if I did not know that a simple warning is sufficient for a wise man. For the rest, if you are dissatis-
with the rigorous conduct of the Holy See towards you, the agents of France who will be ja^sent at the council, will and I, obtain the revocation of whatever can be revoked
fied
;
on
my
part,
in
your behalf,
if
I have any
influence."
warning had its effect. The French number of the prelates of the a considerable bishops joined
St. Bernard's simple
irho
* In allQaion to the ooronation of Louis-le-Jeone, son waa anointed king by Innocent II.
d Loui* VI^
202
west,
HISTORY OP
BT.
BERNABD.
in 1134, under the presiThe of the Pontiff. principal object of the SoTereign dency the was to authority of the Holy See, strengthen assembly and to labor in eradicating the abuses which incessantly
arose after so
like the
many
reforms.
The
ancient prophets of Jerusalem, spoke the severe language of truth, without ceasing, to both kings and peo By the dint of perseverance, by repeating always the pie.
same
truths,
acts,
they succeeded in
insuring the triumph of justice over the disorder of human passions ; and the dictates of religion made their way by
degrees into laws and social customs. The Council of Pisa added fresh weight to those canons
and
in
**
which had been sanctioned at Rheims, in the preceding year it was the third council, not to mention that of Troyes,
which all was regulated by the counsels of St. Bernard. The holy abbot was present at all the deliberations," writes " He a learned monk who was himself present at the council. was revered by all, and the door of his house was incessantly besieged by ecclesiastics, who desired to speak with him. Not
that he was rendered inaccessible by pomp and vanity, but it was diflBcult to see him on account of the number who sought
As
soon as one
left
him another
humble man, who assumed none of these honors to himself, seemed to be not only called to It would be secular business but to the plenitude of power.
went
in
so that this
all
the council
the
most important matter was the excommunication of Peter di Leone, and the perpetual and irrevocable degradation of all
his adherents
;
Bernard to Milan to bring back that rebelUous dience to the Holy See and the Emperor.
city to
ob
SOS
career which
all
now opened
How
the astonishing and wondrous deeds which the capital of Lombardy ? signalized his presence admirable power of the word of the saints I Wherever
enumerate
is
heard
it
tears flow,
;
and,
under
its
auspices, order,
Nothing can resist its and bends before the extraordinary man who kindles the
of heaven on earth.
But we must
be
let
we should
eflfect
by weakening the
CHAPTER
LABORS or
ST.
XXI.
BERNARD IN MILANMIRACLES-EFFUSIONS OF
SOUL.
HM
The ancient Church of Milan deserved the reproaches addressed to one of the Seven Cliurches in the Apocalypse. Sht had the najm ofhdng ahve, and she was dead; for she
had broken the sacred bond which united her
to the mother
Church, the centre of living unity. BThe suggestions of her proud archbishop had rendered her indocile and, not con;
primacy
to satisfy her ambition. Her first error to acknowledge the lawful Pope ; and
had been
in refusing
by
t04
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNAM).
Bhe became engaged in the interests of human policy, to all its compHcations and yicissitudes.
sal:jfri4
The Archbishop Anselm had taken no notice of the excommunication which two Popes had pronounced against him. He had been among the first to acknowledge Ana*
cletus, and,
in Italy,
he excited the Milanese to support the pretensions of the antipope, and to undertake the defence of Conrad's cause
From thence
resisted a political and reUgious collusion which rendered Milan the most powerful bulwork of Anacletus' All the malcontents and the enemies of Lotharius party.
and Innocent found a sure protection in Anselm ; and they augmented by then: numbers the forces which were already
at his disposal
;
reached
its
highest point,
began to
decline rapidly.
The
schismatics were successively disappointed of then* resources and then* hopes ; and when they heard of the triumph of
the
German
above
all,
against Anselm, and reproached hun as the cause of the evils which threatened them. The unfaithful archbishop sought to escape from the resentment of his clergy by resigmng his
jurisdiction into the
hands of the metropolitan bishop ; and the latter took advantage of this state of the people's mind to prepare the way for St. Bernard.
At
this favorable
moment
the holy
monk
arrived in
Lom-
bardy, accompanied by two cardinals and the venerable " They had hardly descended the ApBishop of Chartres. of that time, "when all Milan authors write the enines," went forth to meet the man of God ^nobles and citizens
the former on horseback, the latter on foot ; and rich and poor left their Iwuses as if they had deserted the town. They
went out
meet
MISSION TO mnir.
20&
They
utmost to prevent
it,
hearing the sound and, although he did his ; he could not hinder them from throw-
ing themselves at his feet, and prostrating themselves before him ; they tore the threads out of his garments to serve as
remedies for their diseases, in the persuasion that whatever holy, and would contribute to their
him
the air with cries of joy and contmued acclamations, untU he entered the city, where he was detained for a long
filled
time by the unmense crowd before he could reach the honorable lodging which had been prepared for him.
But when they came to discuss in pubhc the affair which bad brought the servant of God and the cardinals to Milan,
the whole city, forgetting
its
"
animosities
sions, submitted so completely to the holy abbot, that these verses of a poet might justly be appHed to him :
est.*
conciled,
"Peace was soon restored, the parties in the Church' reand concord re-established among the dissentient But when these matters were parties by a solemn treaty.
Arranged, there arose others of a different kind.
"The
the
and, at
command
of the
man
spirits, affrighted
fled from the abodes they had made for themout by a superior power. This was a driven selves, being new employment for this holy legate, who had received no
and trembling,
Roman
but, accord*
and the
M a proof
206
Christ,
BISrORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
whoet
We
faith
a virtue to be compared tc
An humble and religious strife that of this great saint. The saint attributed the glory of arose between them.
these miracles to the lively faith of the people, and the people referred all the glory to the eminent sanctity of the ser-
God ; all, however, were firmly persuaded that he obtained whatever he asked from God
vant of
"With this assurance they brought to hun, amongst others, a woman well known to all, who had been tormented
by an impure
spirit for
seven years.
to
dehver the unfortunate woman, and to command the devil The holy man began to pray ; he to leave her body.
received power from heaven, and commanded the evil one, in the name of Christ ; the woman was immediately cured,
and restored
to peace
and
tranquillity.
aged lady, of high rank, waa brought to him, in the church of St. Ambrose, in the presence of a great number of persons. The devil, which had long possessed her, had suffocated her to such an extent that
"Another
time, a very
she had lost sight, hearmg, and speech ; and gnashing her teeth, and stretching out her tongue like an elephant^s Her trunk, she resembled a monster rather than a woman.
hideous and fearful countenance, and her horrible breath, bore witness to the impurity of the spirit which possessed her body.
"
When
the servant of
God
was closely bound to, and, as it were, incarnate in ker, and that it would not be easy to dislodge him from an ibode where he had so long beiL master. " who had flocked towards the
devil
Therefore, turning
people,
MIRAGLEfl.
SOT
in
?ently to
crowds to the church, he recommended them to pray ferGod and, surrounded by the priests and religioua
;
who were near him, at the foot of the altar, he ordered that the woman should be brought before him, and firmly held. The miserable creature resisted and, animated by a diabo;
lical
m horrible con-
vulsions, amidst those who held her, striking them, and kicking the servant of God himself, who remained calm and
unmoved, without bemg disturbed by the audacity of the demon. He humbly ascended the altar, and began the celebration of the holy sacrifice. " But every time that he made the sign of the cross on the sacred host, he turned towards the woman, and apphed
times, testified that he felt the
the virtue of the same sign to her ; the devil, at these power of this mighty sign, by
'
redoubling his fury, and manifesting fresh rage and anguish. " After the Pater Noster,' the saint descended the steps
of the altar, to
come
to close
God.
He
paten on which was the sacred host ; then, elevating them over the woman's head, he spoke as follows : " * EvU spirit, behold thy Judge ; behold the Almighty.
Resist now,
if
thou canst
if
thou darest to
resist
Him,
who, when about to die for our salvation, spoke these words "The time is come, when the prince of this world shall be cast outl" Behold that sacred body which was
in the womb of a Virgin, which hung upon the wood of the cross, was laid in the sepulchre, rose from the dead, and ascended into heaven in the sight of his disciples By
formed
the dread power of this adorable Majesty, I command thee, mfemal spirit, to go out of the body of this servant of God,
and never to
re-enter
it
'
"The
let
m spite
go
208
the few
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
to him,
and tormented
hii
The holy abbot, returning victim with redoubled atrocity. to the altar, proceeded to the fraction of the saving host, and gave the pax to the deacon, that he might transmit it
to the people
;
woman was
witness,
restored to peace
and health.
not by his free testimony, but by his forced flight, to the virtue and efficacy of the divine mysteries I " The woman, who had recovered the use of her reason
and her
whom
her dehverer.
the faithful, of every age and sex, expressed their admiration by cries of joy and hymns of gladness. The bells were was the Lord blessed with one unanunous voice ; and rang ;
the whole city, transported with love for St. Bernard, rendered him an honor, if we may be permitted to say it, be-
yond what was due to a mortal man. "The news of the events at Milan were soon spread abroad, and the reputation of the holy man was diffused
through
Italy.
It
prophet had arisen, powerful in works and words, who healed the sick, and delivered the possessed, by the power of Jesus Christ. " But as the crowd which thronged around his doors from morning till night seriously inconvenienced and almost
stifled
window
hands to bless the people. Many persons had come in from the neighboring towns and villages ; and aU, strangers no less than citizens, followed the
man
of
God
day,
when he was
man
of distinguished
HIRACLES.
dress
20 &
efforts to
approach
ing on his hands and feet, those who were before him, he succeeded in opening a way through the crowd, and falling at the knees of the man of
At
kisses.
The venerable
Rainald,
standing by (and I have this fact from his lips), tried to put an end to this scene, knowing that such demon-
who was
were very pahiful to Bernard but the man, who remained prostrate, turned to him, and said in a loud voice * Suffer me to contemplate and touch this servant of God,
strations
; :
man
and I
affirm
it
on the
have seen
this apostle in
with astonishment, and he would have inquired further about this vision, but refrained out of respect for St. Bernard's
presence.
It
may be
The
and
"
had no
longer
any
who were
labor
weariness.
Those who
to see hun
;
met other
visitors
who came
rupted succession of persons who came to ask favors of him. He restored a number of persons to health ; he cured some
by giving them holy water to drink ; others by his touch alone ; and, in the same city, in presence of various wit> nesses, he obtained from the Father of lights the power of
restoring sight to the blind,
by
makmg
upon them.
the numerous persons who to Milan, a noble knight brought a quarters
"Amongst
came from
little girl
all
to the
servant of God,
who had
although she always kept her eyelids closed, she also held ber hands ovei her eyes, fearing lest the smallest ray might
210
strike
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNABD
on them
and making the sign of the her away in a more tranquil state
cross
;
upon
her,
he sent
but whilst they were her she her home, eyes, and continued her opened carrying without on foot, needing any assistance." journey
Amidst the unwonted honors which were heaped upon him, this great man, who was an object of unexampled yeneration, who commanded kings and people, and bore,
alone, all the
it
were, dead
and motionless on the moving scene to which he gave life, and never raised himself above the simplicity of his state. So that, if there was anything m him which was more
admirable than his works, it was that profound humility with which he exercised the kind of omnipotence which God had conferred on him for the edification of the Church.
He seemed completely indififerent to the glory, honor, and reverence which he received on all sides ; deaf and insensible to the praises of the world.
He
was
also contmually
subject to acute bodily sufferings; these pains were very dear to him, because they reminded him constantly of the
common
infirmity.
made
perfect in
his
But
still
more than
body
He
and
**
sighed for the repose of the cloister ; was to be obliged to leave the
had made
is
My
life,"
;
"
letters,
is
somethmg quito
monstious
1
my
;
conscience
in
am a kind of chimera in the present age, neither priest nor layman wearing a monk's habit, and observing noni of the rules."
In order to give a more perfect idea of the interior of
211
to
great soul, we shall insert here a letter which he wrote the monks of Clairvaux. Long as it is, we do not
it
;
attempt to curtail
intunate
for his
whole soul
is
and spontaneous
tender sentunents ; " I grieve at my separation from you ; and I shall be Inconsolable until I am once more in the midst of you. Are
effusions of the
you not, in fact, my only consolation here below, during the sorrowful days of my pilgrimage ? Whithersoever I go, I bear with me the sweet remembrance of my brethren ; but the
absence
more sweet the remembrance, the more bitter is the pain of Alas must my exile, then, be so long Is ot
I
that exile alone which detains us all so far from our true country, but that which separates me from you. Oh, how it is to be so long subject to the dominion and weary painful
of vanity, under which all creatures are oppressed ; to be confined in the horrible prison of this body of clay ; to be in the bonds of sin and death, deprived of the sight of
Jesus Christ, and subject to an infinite number of miseries 1 God gave me no other consolation than that of beholdmg
you His living temple, until He should manifest Himself more fully in His glory. It seemed to me that it would be
in
easier for
me
for
'
One
the
Lord
life,
that I
my
"
that I
may may
dwell
see
His house
His
delights.'
Alas
what
shall I say
How
away from me ? If I mistake not, this is the thfrd tune that I have been torn away from my very
self.
My
I
aftef
givmg them
them.
am
my
dearest
812
which
affictfi
HISTORY OP
St.
BERNARD.
me
for-
O sweet Jesus I mer, or to be occupied by the latter. life to be thus consumed in sadness and weariness ?
better for
in the
my
is
It
me
arms of
mate
helps,
befits
friends.
my brethren, my companions, and my intiI should have more comfort there, more
safety.
and greater
Thy goodness
to let
me
depart from this world. Suffer my children to close the eyes of their father, even though I am unworthy to bear
this
name.
May
may
if
they assist him at the hour of death ; may they comfort him in ;
By
their prayers
may
to the
abode of the
a poor man in the midst of his poor May If I have found favor in Thy sight, I conjure brethren. Thee to grant me this grace ; and to grant it through the prayers and merits of the same brethren with whom I
desire to
be united
in the grave.
;
Nevertheless,
Thy
will
be
my sorrows to you, my dearly my consolations. In the first place, I presume to say that, in all my labors and fatigues, my only motive has been Hun for whom all things ought to subsist. Whether I will or not, I owe my life to Him who
since I
tell
"
But
have confided
you
gave
for
me
it
to the merciful
Judge, who
His sake.
one day repay me for all I have suffered If I only serve Him from necessity, I may,
commands
;
but I
shall, nevertheless,
be
an unfaithful servant
1 shall have
first
but
if
I serve
This,
some
glory.
lecond
that
God
blesses
my weak
LETTER TO
fflS
BRETHREN.
181 8
and does not leave me quite useless in his Church. I have experienced this on more than one occasion, and you have sometimes heard of it. If there was not some pride m saying
would tell you, for your consolation, how efBca* the Church has been served this time by so contempciously tible an instrument as I am ; but it is better that these
so, X
things should
lips
than
mme.
present the urgent solicitations of the emperor, the express command of the Pope, and the entreaties of the
At
princes, oblige
my
and bearing
in
my
approaching death.
Pray peace of the Church ; that for I health pray my may have the consolation ; pray of seeing you once more, that I may live and die in your
lives.
grace for me by the holiness of your have My sufferings hardly left me an interval of repose to dictate this letter, and I have done so with many tears and sobs. Baldwin, our most dear brother, has lent
arms
and merit
this
me
for the
the assistance of his hand to write to you. . Pray Pope, who testifies to me, and to our whole congre;
pray for
his chancellor,
who has a
with hun
as their
Lnke, Chrysogones, and Ivo, who regard me own brother. Bruno and Gerard, the two religious
for
me
who
are
who
This great saint, from the wonderful thing indeed time he entered the monastic state, was always on the point of death ; and each of his actions seemed to be the last
I
use of
and exhausted body, which was mirac culously animated, as it were, by the divme breath, to rule the destinies of the Church and of the empires of the world.
814
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD.
St.
Notwithstanding his
visible infirmities,
Bernard had
Milan, as at
to accept th pasto-
One day all the faithful and the magistrates, headed by the clergy, came in procession to his abode, to conduct him by force to the archiepiscopal throne. On this occasion, resistance was vain ; he, therefore, made use of an expe" dient. I shall mount my horse, To-morrow," he said, and abandon myself to Divine Providence. If the horse
takes
"
me
city,
if
I shall consider
myself free
the
city,
he remains within
riding
speed, he departed
CHAPTER
XXII.
CONTINUATION OF THE ABODE OF BERNARD IN LOMBARDYFRESH MIRACLESDEATH OP ST. STEPHEN, THE FOUNDER OF THE ORDER OF CITEAUXDEATH OF ST. NORBERT.
MiRnc'
-3
man
they remind us of the power which ^.v8 he receive* J (rom the beginning over nature, which he was
to his pf* rti^
called to
this
command
in the
name
of his Creator.
This power,
regained by all men ;* for all, by virtue of the creating word, bear within them the power which rules the elements, governs creatures, and commands
high prerogative,
may be
the earth.
But
this
power
is latent,
the
* For every natnre of beasts, and of birds, and of serpents, and of rest, is tamed, and has been tamed by the nature of man. ^Epistlt i^St. James, chap, iii., v. 7.
FRESH MIRACLES.
fined
;
215
dethroned
all
creation, the
king of all earthly beings, has fallen by original sin to a leyel with those creatures whom he had been appointed to govern, and into dependence even upon those whom he had been
Hence, as St. Paul says, the groanappointed to set free. all of creatures who were sighing after their deliverance, ing and waiting for the manifestation of the children of God
and purification
which man has to accomplish in each and in proportion as he raises himself to a restored harmony with his eternal
head, ho recovers, with the gift of God, his glorious prerogatives, and enters again into a participation of the Divine As soon as snbUme destiny of man omnipotence.
I
Divine love
is
born again
virtue,
;
in his soul,
he
knowledge,
restored to
all
all
power
The kmgly
sceptre
light,
is
him
crown of
he
and
tions of pontiff
St.
Such was
the world obeyed him, and the spirits of this world trembled at his words ; the angels themselves, those
:
Bernard
who
fell
his sanctity,
together with the prince of pride, bore witness to and feared him as one of the judges who shall
to carry out the sentence of
The contemporary biographers of St. Bernard relate a number of facts which attest this supreme authority. We
cannot repeat them all we shall confine ourselves to two examples, which may, perhaps, excite a smile in some incre;
the Sons of
For we know that every creature groaneth and travaileth in pain evea
fill
now.Eora.
viii.,
S16
lo
as.
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD.
Q^o
St.
mpdern opinion but this consideration will not hinder what would science itself be reduced, if curtailed
;
which overpass the bounds of human reasonT^ Bernard had just escaped with difficulty from the entreaties of the Milanese, who had made use of some degree
of
all facts
of force to place
but
upon leaving Milan, he was not able to avoid the demonstrations of respect and joy which were poured out in all directions on his road. He had hardly reached Pavia, when his
house was besieged by the people
;
had
filled all
Italy
all
worked wonders
his
but, above
all,
their understanding,
Amongst
curious
particulars
are related.
"The husband
of
this
woman," says an old historian, "brought her to the of the saint. The devU immediately began to make
:
feet this
unhappy person speak with contempt of the Abbot of Clabrvaux and she said, in a mocking tone 'This devourer of
;
roots
send away my little dog. She spoke many sunilar words, blaspheming the man of God, in order to irritate him, and lower him in the estimation of
will never
and cabbages
the people.
woman
the saint recognized the artifices of Satan, He desired that the possessed should be conducted to the principal church in Pavia,
But
dedicated to St. Syrus, that he might leave to this saint the honor of her cure. But the devil continuing his mockeries,
said again
Syrulus shall not send me away, and Bernar' It will be not either.* The saint replied : it will neither Syrus nor Bernard who will send you away
'
dalus shall
I'
ers, and unplored the help unfortunate female At this instant, the malignant spirit
Upon which he began his prayof God for the deliverance of this
DXMONS CAST
cnauged
his tone
OUT,
'
21*1
Oh, how gladly would I he ; Oh, would that said of this miserable out creature,' go I could escape from the suffering which I endure in this
and language.
body I But I cannot.' On being asked why he could not^ he rephed, 'Because the great Lord would not allow it Who, then, is this great Lord ?' rephed St. Bernard. yet.'
'
The
the
devil contmued,
'
It
is
Jesus of Nazareth.'
seen
'
You know
'I have
Lord
Jesus, then?
Him?
Him
in
'I did you see Hun?' man of the said God, 'Then,'
glory ?'
Yes, I was
fell
m glory.'
And
how
*We
and
all
who were
said
:
desire to
be restored to
of happmess ?'
To
very remarkable expression of voice, 'That is deferred.'* After these latter words, she kept silence, and spoke not another word. But the man of God, having returned to hia
prayers, cast out the infernal spirit,
quite cured.
"All
those," contmues
the historian,
"who
heard the
it
;
an exceeding joy at
but
the
woman
not last long ; for, at the very moment that entered her house, the demon returned into her
body, and agitated her with convulsions which exceeded in violence all that she had suffered before. Her sorrowing
for,
on one
est.
understand
meaning of these words. It is of faith that the devils are for ever xoladed from glory So if these words were to mean anything else, (k OS never forget that they were spoken by the spirit of liea.
118
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
to lire with a possessed woman side, it was a misery to ; and, on the other, he feared to commit an act of impiety
Mm
In
this
state of perplexity
he
determined to return to Pavia (for he did not Uve the But he did not find the city), carrying his wife with hun.
him to Cremona, where, having rejoined him, he related his misfortune, and shed many tears. St. Bernard, touched with compassion, entered a
saint at that place, so he followed
prayer.
church towards evening, and passed the whole night in The next morning he again dehvered this woman
from her enemy; and, fearing that the devil might gain made her hang round her neck a note, on which he had written these words Satan, I command
access to her again, he
'
thee, in the
name
of our
Lord Jesus
Christ, never to
be so
bold as to approach this woman again/ After this she remained in peace, having been entirely cured." " There was in the same city," relates the monk Ernold,
*'a demoniac, whose strange bowlings were a subject of mirth to many persons, but inspired serious and charitable
men with lively compassion. This miserable being barked when desired to speak and, if you had heard him without At the seeing Mm, you would have taken him for a dog. of a of like those man uttered cries St. tMs sight Bernard,
;
ferocious
dog when he
is
beaten with a
stick.
But the
ser-
vant of
name
threatened the devil, and cast him out, in the of Jesus Christ. Then, having desired the man to
God
church, assisted at the divine mysteries, and continued to fulfil all the duties of a reasonable and grateful man."
But
St.
Pope's commands, through the different cities of Lombardy, at length returned to Milan. He had everywhere succeeded
in
appeasmg resentment and cementing peace, except at Cremona, where his mediation was not accepted. This city,
REFORMS AT MILAN.
puffed up by
its
219
not appreciate
by the man of
place.
had submitted, and offered to purge hunself from the condemit was nation which he had mcurred necessary to reconcile
:
him with the Pope, who had excommunicated hun, and with the people, whose most just animadversions he had drawn
upon himself.
of as
St. Bernard, seeing his repentance,
made
use
much
yersaries
him against his numerous adas he had before shown zeal in opposing him, and
charity to defend
obtained,
by
his tact
and prudence,
august functions. This complete settlement of things at Milan permitted him to remain some time there, to found a
work at which he could now labor with the more liberty of spirit, as he had no longer to fear importunate solicitations
to accept the archiepiscopal chair. Besides the public reforms which his labors produced at Milan, his preaching had aroused
in
many
souls
fruit,
thoughts of
;
retire-
and
it
was
to
such elect souls that the holy abbot felt himself especially have already said the involuntary share which devoted. he took in the temporal and political mterests of his age was,
We
he underwent
an accidental and transitory passage in his but found no consoit from obedience
;
when
concurred towards the especial This object was to make known the
it
one single body those souls which were burning with the
same
desire, the
same love
in short, to
accomphsh, by
SiTii v/nvm. holy union, the deepest desire of Jesus Christ He founded, therefore, in the neighborhood of Milan, in the midst of a beautiful country, a house of his order, to which
this
it
was so dear
220
his heart.
it
;
HISTORY or
ST.
BERNARD.
He summoned monks
this
new monastery, worthy of its name, was soon with a considerable number of fervent souls, whose peopled
and
prayers and austere penances were a sure pledge to the Church of Milan of grace and benediction. This was about the middle of the year 1134. At thig
one
time the Order of Citeaux suffered a grievous loss, which no The blessed Stephen, felt more deeply than Bernard.
one of the founders of this order, and the first guide of him who was one day to be the guide of his age Stephen, the new Esdras, as the biographers term him, who rebuilt the walla
the
new
St. Benedict,
who,
hoping against hope, had seen the feeble seed of the desert multiply itself so prodigiously, and overshadow the whole
world with
its branches of grace Stephen, the patriarch of ascended to whilst Citeaux, heaven, Bernard, his disciple and his spiritual son, brought forth a second Clairvaux in
He had felt the approaches of death, and worthily Italy. prepared himself for it. As early as the year 1133, he had declared in an assembly of all the abbots of the order, that
though his strength, not his heart, was unequal to contmue the functions of his weighty charge, he entreated, with hia eyes bathed in tears, that they would lighten the load under
which he was smking, and requested some time of rest before descendmg into the tomb. In the absence of St. Bernard^
another monk, named Raynard, became superior-general of the Order of Citeaux, instead of Stephen ; and the latter
by the blessed death of the just. The exordium of Citeaux relates, in the following words, the edifying " circumstances attending it The time had arrived when
:
the holy old man was to receive the reward of the many labors which he had accomplished in the service of Jesui
Christ,
state
which
OSATH or
ST.
NORBIRT.
221
he had chosen, according to the precepts of the Saviour, to Then the abbots of the feast of the heavenly householder.
his order, to the
number of twenty, met together at Citeaux, that they might be present at his blessed passage, and aid with their prayers and dutiful care the holy patriarch, who
to return to his true country.
When
agony, and seemed ahnost to have expired, were together of his great merit, and expressspeaking they ing how happy they considered hun to be, that, after having
m his
God
in perfect security.
St.
Stephen
his
had overheard, he roused himself, and, collectmg all I protest, What do you say V sighed he. strength,
'
my
brethren, that I
fear as
if
I had
never done any good ; for if my meanness has, by the help of Jesus Christ, brought forth any fruit, I dread at this moment, lest I should not have received His grace with
the humility which I ought, and should not have corre sponded to it with sufficient fideUty and gratitude.^ Upon
this," continues the narrator,
the
his faithful fellow-laborer in Italy, the full vigor of his age venerable Norbert, founder of the Premonstratensian Order. His various and intimate relations with the Abbot of Clair-
Taux, the great congregation of which he laid the first stone, and, lastly, the edification which he afforded to his age, by his sanctity, his learnmg, and his labors, oblige us to enter
into
some
man.
and
per-
222
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD.
the clerical tonsure and a worldly education. His relationi intended him for ecclesiastical honors but his tastes, his
;
thoughts, his heart, belonged to the world, and sought after its pleasures. Amidst the illusions of the imperial Court, he
wasted
science,
his
youth
and
no doubt disregarding the sting of constifling the last gleams of interior light, amidst
;
ear.
truth.
Norbert, as well as St. Paul, had experience of this One day he was riding, with a single servant, to a
village of Westphalia.
He
immense
plain,
when suddenly
lightnmg broke above his head in fearful flashes. Far from all shelter and full of terror, he allowed his horse to
gallop as fast as possible, to seek a refuge
sent
;
heavens
down a
and its rider. Norbert remained during a whole hour extended on the ground, without motion, almost without life ; but at length he came to himself a spark of more intense
:
and quickening
fire
had
fallen
darkness of his soul ; and, like " cried out, Lord, what wouldst
Thou have me
to
do ?"
'
"
Do
seek good, and fly from evil," replied an interior voice ; peace, and employ all your strength to acquire it." From this moment Norbert became a new man. Hating what he had hitherto loved, and seeking what he had always
thunned, his soul, burning with apostoUc zeal, placed no limto his penance, and aspired after nothing but the service of Him whom he had so long disregarded. The Archbishop
its
of Cologne ordained him deacon and priest on the same day ; and the Abbot Coron, celebrated for his piety, prepared him, by a retreat of forty days, for the celebration of the holy
ST.
NORBERT.
in the thirtieth year of
life
223
his
mysteries.
Norbert was
age,
was a
literal verification
of
hi
"
:
His exemplary conduct, for my the courageous remonstrances which he made against the and practical preachirregularities of the clergy, his eloquent
wHl have
to suffer
name.^^*
and calumny. He ing, drew upon hun the pm'suit of envy was long considered as an innovator, and was denounced as
all sides,
such before the tribunal of the Holy See. Persecuted on misunderstood and deserted by his best friends, he
lived in retirement,
his disthree other servants of God, which consoled him him by also torn from were But these three disciples grace.
death
and he remamed
alone, useless to
all,
forgotten, like
a grain of wheat which a careless laborer neglects to hide the bosom of the earth. This seed must lose its own life
before
it
and when
it
seems to be
dry and dead, a ray of divine light penetrates even to its depth, and causes it to send up stems of inexhaustible fecundity.
Many
devoted
St.
men came
;
selves
around
Norbert
montre, a Kttle estate been left to St. Bernard as a legacy, and which he generously gave up to the companions of St. Norbert.f They formed
themselves, conformably to the rule of St. Augustme, into an order of priests, who, under the name of canons regular, lead a common life ; they practised, at the same time, the
monastic excercises and the priestly functions ; enjoying, at the same tune, the deUghts of contemplation and the consolations of the sacred ministry.
The lands of Premontr6 were a part of the forest of Couc^ fr< name to the congregation which had been cradled there.
thJ
224
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
at-
other in their
common
efforts to supply
Both, united
to-
jomed together to extinguish the schism m Italy, and they had both resisted the pretensions cf the antipope. Lotharius had just raised the Abbot of Premontre to the archiepiscopal chair of Magdeburg. In this place, new persecutions reanimated ancient hatred and
gether.
recently
;
They had
life for
He
who had
fering,
He
his
of good works, he expu-ed ripe for heaven. died on his return from Rome, the fifty-third year of
and *
age
God
presents, notwithstandmg, an
example of the illusions by which certam private revelations Bomethnes deceive the wisest mmds. St. Norbert beheved,
and we
the subject, in a letter from the holy Abbot of Clairvaux, " addressed to the Bishop of Chartres : You ask me whether
is
Holy Land.
know
not.
going to make a journey to the few days ago I had the con-
* See Father Helyot's History of Eeligious Orders, vol. ii. p. 164 In the time of this author, the Order of Premontr^ counted thirteen hundred houses of men, and four hundred monasteries of women. In England, where there were thirty-nine of their houses, those religious were commonly called White Canons. At length, this order, too
much
enriched by temporal gifts, fell into spiritual poverty ; and th Popes have several times judged it desirable to reform its disciplin*.
mS
CONTINUED ABSENCE.
225
lolation of seeing him, and of hearing from his mouth, a from an organ of the Holy Spirit, a number of edifying but he said nothing to me of his project He told things
;
knew to a certainty that Antichrist would manifest himself in our day upon earth, and would appear But the foundations during the lifetime of men of our age.
then, that he
me
upon which he supported this certainty appeared to me to be anything but soHd, and his explanations did not obtain
my
assent.
He
a general persecution of the Church." Jhe death of Norbert, whose labors in Germany and Italy had so perfectly seconded the mission of the Abbot of Clairhis death,
Taux
and,
still
^grievously
burden of
lic
nies as
veneration, of which he so unceasingly received testimonumerous as they were vehement, overwhelmed his
;
humihty
and he had,
Supreme Pontiff permission to return to Clairvaux, and to But his repose, once more, in the shadow of his cloister. day of rest was not yet arrived, and the Pope seemed as if
he could not do without the holy monk, whom he considered as the support of the papacy, and the soul of the whole
Church.
Continuing, then, his labors in Italy, he contented himself
with mourning in silence over the obhgation which detained him from the children whom God had given him. " I am " to labor at busmess which obliged," writes he to them, tears from me my sweet retirement. Pity my grief, and do
not blame an absence to which the necessities of the Church
oblige me, but
m which my
fruit.
will
has no share.
;
my
much
.
longer
.
pray to
God
may
not be without
j
tach other
God
is
with us and I
10*
am
226
msTORT OF
st.
Bernard.
am
How
should
it
be otherwise,
?
whilst
if
there be,
unruly, discon-
tended, reckless, intemperate, idle, intractable, even if I were present with him in body, he would be as far from my heart as he would be from that of God, through the disorder of his
But, my brethren, serve the Lord now with fear, that As for you may one day serve hun without fear. me, I serve him freely, because I serve hun with love, and it
life.
...
is to the practice of this love I exhort you all, my dear and tenderly beloved children ; serve God with love, with that great love which banishes fear, which feels not the burden
of the day, which considers not wages, which seeks not reward, and which yet causes us to act with more energy than
May God
may
grant,
unite
my
brethren,
me
inseparably
with you, and make me always present with you in spirit, above all, at your prayers." This tender and loving pastor, after having remamed
almost a year in Lombardy, at length obtained permission to return to Clairvaux. In the sprmg of 1135, he took
leave of the Sovereign PontifiT
;
ing peace and prosperity to the country which he had watered with his wordSj and enriched with hif bene^tions.
BETURN TO CLAIRVAUZ.
227
CHAPTER
XXIII.
RITUEN TO CLAIRVAUXST. BERNARD'S SPIRIT OP PROPHECYHI OPPOSES THE ABUSE OP APPEALSHE EXCITES LOTHARIUS TO A NEW EXPEDITION AGAINST THE SCHISMATICSHE IS RECALLED TO
ITALY.
St.
zerland,
Bernard's journey throngh the north of Italy, Switand France, resembled a royal progress. The hom-
age paid to crowned heads can bear no comparison to those spontaneous marks of respect, those testimonies of admiration
this holy
monk
received on his
though his forehead shone not with the insignia of a borrowed dignity, but with the glory of true royalty, and
road
<ical his
immortal brightness. The man of God was not able to conjourney from a people burning with impatience to
stars
behold hjm.
Mke those
all his
His route seemed to be known beforehand, whose influence is felt even before they ap-
He was
unable, notwithstanding
precaution, to escape the honors which everywhere awaited and the humility with which he concealed ;
Mm
himself,
only
made
further
At
clergy,
the gates of Placentia, he found the bishop and the who received him and brought him into the city in
procession.
him at Florence.
moun
quittmg their
company and the pastors of the Alps, flocks, came to throw themselves at his feet,
sharp cry from the height of their
his blessmg.*
rocks,
demanded
He
arrived, at length, at
Is it to
Little St.
NTallais }
our saint that we must attribute the names of Great and Bernard, which distinguish the two high mountains of the Our devotion might lead us to believe this ; but historical
228
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
and
Besan^on, whence he was conducted solemnly to Langres ; there, not far from the city, he met his monks, who had come to meet him, at the news of his approach.
"threw themselves on their each addressing him in hia tnrn and, full of joy, they conducted him to Clairvaux.'* As soon as the saint had crossed the threshold of hii monastery, he went and returned thanks in the church, and
"All,''
knees,
;
assembled his children in chapter, where he made tliem an exhortation, which, on account of his extreme fatigue, was
short, but
affecting.
It
was a consolation
which he
"
to
him to
This house of " God," relates the chronicler, already quoted, had not been disturbed in any degree ; nothing had been able to affect
the sanctity of the humble monks. They were all animated by the same spirit, burning with paternal love ; and they lived in peace, clunbing together the steps of Jacob's lad-
and hastenmg to arrive at the blessedness of heaven, the abode of eternal joy." "As to the holy abbot," continues the same narrator, * " I saw like remembered Him who
der,
he
said,
Satamfall
light-
ning from heaven ;^'^ and he was so much the more humble and submissive to the Divine Majesty, as he found Him
his desires.
He
did not
take glory to himself that the devils were subject to him ; bt he rejoiced in the Lord to see the names of his brethren
impartiality obliges us to think diflferently
in the year 996, sayi ; for, of the same name, the blessed Bernard de Menthon, Archdeacon of Aoste, in Piedmont, overthrew an idol of Jupiter, which had been placed upon one of these mountains, and
God
built
on the spot a monastery destined to be an asylum for travellers. Thence the origin of the celebrated houses, which, for so many agea, have been one of the greatest marvels of Christian charity. * Lake x.
RETDRIf TO CLAIRVAUX.
frritten in
22$
the bonds of
for general The buildings were not suflS* renovation in the monastery. cient for the community ; and as they were situated in the
But
two mountains,
it
them down
larger plan.
much
St.
Bernard consented, with great repugnance, to a removal so expensive, and long resisted the entreaties of hia " brothers. Consider," said he to them, "how much labor and expense
this
It
pains that we contrived to build aqueducts to carry water to the offices and places of labor. What opinion will be held of us now, if we destroy what we have made ?
We
we
shall
be accused of
;
'
folly,
with
all
have no money
of the Gospel,
first
and, besides, let us not forget these words That he that would build a tower should
it
calculate
what
to him,
"
You must
whom God
has sent
;
to you, or
to us
if,
you must build rooms to lodge them in for wo for fear of expense, we should put a stop to the de-
velopment of any work of God." These representations touched the holy abbot, and he
to the just desu-es of his brethren. The works, thanks to the unexpected aid which poured in on all sides, advanced with marvellous rapidity ; cmd the new-barn
yielded
Church gi-ew as if
J
it
had
been
ammated vnth a
living soul
Vijxxble
of motion.
as
These new buildings seemed so much the more necessary, more than 100 novices, recently admitted, had arrived to
increase the
number of the monks. The greater part of came from the borders of the Rhme, where St Bernard had preached the precedmg year, when on his journey
these
230
into
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Germany. Such was the efl&cacy of his words, that, amidst a crowd of hearers, there were always some who, more deeply struck than the others, abandoned the world,
iu the cloister, that they might devote themselves irrevocably to the one thing needful. Amidst the novices thus converted, there is one who de-
"
The servant
of God," reports a
in
arrived
Germany
to
nephew, the the venerable Albert, Archbishop of MayEmperor Henry, ence, dispatched to him a worthy ecclesiastic, named Mascehis
lin,
who
to
But the man of God, after looking fixedly at him, said, Another Lord has sent you here to serve Him.' The German ecclesiastic, very much surprised, and not knowing what these words meant, repeated that he only came on the part of his lord, the Archbishop of Mayoffer to
him
his services.
ence.
who
He deceive yourself,' rephed St. Bernard ; sends you here is greater than your lord it is Jesus
'
You
'
ecclesiastic, guessing the of the said, abbot, Perhaps you think that I wish thought to be a monk ? God fombid ; I have never had a thought
Christ.'
At
these
words the
'
of such a thing.'
St. Bernard, without insistmg any longer, merely repeated that the will of God would be accomplished and, in fact, Mascelin came soon afterwards very shortly
;
his
most generous
disciples."
of prophecy, which had more than once before mouth of the servant of God, suggested to the epoken by him, at this time, a sad prediction concerning his brother
spirit
The
Guido, which he pronounced courageously, notwithstanding the pain it must have cost him.
monk
Normandy,
Pull of
'
SPIRIT
OF PROPHECY.
23l
him sent
tender care for each of his children, he proposed to hava for, that he might have, at least, the consolation
pense which this long journey must occasion, and made a " What I" exciauned the remark upon it to St. Bernard.
latter,
with an accent of painful surprise, do you think more of horses and silver than of one of your brothers? Since, then, you will not have this brother rest with us in
this valley,
you
shall
This prediction was not long unfulfilled, for Guido, having gone to Pontigny on the affairs of the order, after a short
illness
affliction of St. Bernard, at the death of a brother he had so much loved, was very deep ; but it did not lessen his vigor, as is sometmies the case this sort of trial ;
The
whom
nor did
a single day, hinder him from joining in the exercises of the community, or fulfilling the duties of his position. Each
it
day he broke the bread of the word to his children and knowing that, of all food, the sweetest and most nutritious
;
is
from the Canticle of Canticles, which furnished him with the most sublime inspirations for himself and his children.
It
was
little
constructed
Talley, there
the depth of the most sohtary part of the to live amidst invisible things, and to pass
peaceful hours absorbed in the contemplation of the eternal But he did not allow himself these pure enjoybeauty.
ments at the expense of the labor which his charge imposed upon him. He was constantly accessible to all the souk
which Uved on his
Destowed on
all in
an especial manNeither
232
these multiplied
HISTORY OF ST
BERNARD.
cares, nor his daily preaching, nor the of chanting psalms, nor the diflGlculties which the rebuilding of the monastery had brought on him, appeared to have any
effect
on his mind ; ho was constantly calm and serene ; in temper, equal and sweet ; and, whilst giving himself entirely tc ethers, he did not neglect his own progress nor forget the The Church, the Holy Roman great need of the Church.
and CathoUc Church, the mystical spouse, the beloved of Jesus Christ, was the incessant object of his thoughts, of his love, of his warmest sohcitude. There was at this tune
an abuse in jurisdiction, against which he energetically raised his voice. In all parts of the world appeals were made
ecclesiastical
tribunals
to
Rome.
These
appeals were founded on the primacy of St. Peter, which IK) one, in all Christendom, thought of contesting ; and they
the immense advantage of opening a way to the oppressed of all countries, whilst they imposed a check upon oppressors of all ranks. This practice was in its first instioffered
tution what it has been through all ages, and which it is in our days, the highest and most salutary guarantee of justice which is possible this world. But on account of this
advantage
such
is
itself, it
the lot of the most excellent things when they are mingled with earthly interests and human passions. Hence
arose frequent conflicts, which did injury to the episcopal authority ; the bishops loudly complained of this, and St.
Bernard
the
lent
his influence to
limits laid
The Archbishop of Treves, whose mild canons. authority had just been intruded apon by an unfounded appeal, charged the holy abbot to write to the Pope, and
thus furnished him with an opportunity of explaining the matter with a noble boldness. may judge of this by
We
Innocent.
"I speak
freely,'
233
it
my
love
is sincere,
and
would not be
so
a scrupulous delicacy or timid fear were to close my mouth. The complaint of the Archbishop of Treves is not
if
is
friends.
shared by many prelates, and even by All the provincial pastors, who
have at heart the salvation of souls, cry out with one voice that they have no longer any jurisdiction th Church, that its heads have become useless, that episcopal authority is
annihilated, since no bishop has power to avenge the insults committed against God, or to punish crime in his diocese. The fault is, naturally, thrown upon you and upon the Court of Rome. You destroy, say they, the good which they do,
evil which they had destroyed.^ After havmg maintained the rights of the bishops against those who disregarded their lawful authority, he expresses
warmth agamst the bishops themwho, through another abuse, exercised an arbitrary " " authority. Many persons," adds St. Bernard, are scandaUzed to see such prelates protected, supported, favored by
the
it with shame, and you will I agree to then* not being degrief. them but are bishops of denounces since posed, nobody The evil report worthy to be supported by the Holy See ?
Holy
it
See.
I say
hear
no doubt with
frankness with which I speak to you would make me fear if I had not the advantage of knowing and of being known by you. But I know your natural
to appear presuming
goodness, and you know, my dearly beloved Father, what my love and the motive which causes my temerity."
is
This letter did not procure a reply prompt enough to He wrote another, satisfy the zeal of the servant of God.
some
" The Archbishop of Treves, he says to the Holy Father that it makes no this has See ApostoUc scruple pecuUarity, of revoking anything which has been extorted by fraud and
834
lying whenever
is
BISTOBY OF
it
ST.
BEBNABD.
It perceives that such has been the case. and to the dignity cf the holy and supreme See, that no impostor shall be suffered to profit
also according to equity,
by
his imposture."
It
cell
was thus that the holy monk from the depth of hia extended the exercise of his indefatigable care over the
;
whole Church
zeal
;
no
interest,
no
vice,
no abuse escaped
hia
and the whole episcopate, as well as the Sovereign Pontiff, found in his words light to direct their conduct.
This powerful influence was not less
in religious
affairs.
felt in
pohtical than
unperial house
had borne
Germany.
The emperor
of reconquermg Italy, and of makmg good his rights over Sicily. The abbot of Clairvaux had not lost of this which he had himself laid before Lothasight plan,
rius
;
gion
"I
"
daily,
and
renders your name illustrious. You owe also to Him the issue of the happy perilous journey which you have undertaken for the peace of the world and the dehverance of the
Chmrch.
You came
to
Rome to
crown
signalize
almost without troops. of men, the affrighted people dared not defend themselves, with what terror will not your enemies be seized, when you
bring down upon them the whole force of your are engaged to this by a motive of honor. .
It
your valor and piety, you came If, then, at the sight of a handful
arm ?
,
You
I am.
may
you
to
235
you ought to defend it against and, farther, that in the quaUty of emperor, you ought to tear Sicily from the hands of the usurper." Lotharius, mfluenced at once by the motives of conscience
the fury of schism
and the interests of his throne, decided, without delay, upon a new expedition, and opened the campaign the same year that St. Bernard spent at Clakvaux. In the sprmg of he at of a considerabU his the head 1136, march, began
army, supported by ahnost
side,
all
the
German
princes.
On
his
Roger prepared himself for a vigorous resistance ; and the moment had arrived when the two armies were to meet
to decide the fate of
Rome and
of
all Italy.
In
this serious
emergency it was impossible for the Pope to leave within the shade of the cloister the man who had been the princi-
At the beginning of pal mover in these great enterprises. 1131, when all questions were on the point of bemg decided before the gates of Rome, St. Bernard received an order to
set out instantly for Italy
;
it,
repugnance
upon the scene of pubUc affaks. Offering then the sacrifice of his repose and his spuitual consolations, he assembled his children around Mm, to bid them
God
adieu, and delivered the following discourse to them, which was frequently interrupted by tears and sighs "You behold, my brethren, how much the Church is agitated by troubles and affliction. The party of Peter di Leone is, by the grace of God, broken both m Italy and
:
evils
which
it still
perfect abortions, cast forth in fury and despair, than perfect formations. The defenders of the schism are disarmed in
those provmces. large party of Roman knights have attached themselves to Innocent, and many of the faithful are devoted to his cause ; but they still fear the violence of
fear, therefore, to
declare publicly
Sd6
EIST0B7 OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Petef the consent which they have given to his election. has for his accompUces and well-wishers the villains and wretches whom he has gained over by money ; and having
made
enchantments and malpractices of Simon Magus. "The west having been conquered, there only remains one
nation to contend with.
Jericho will fall to ruins by the power of your prayers and sacred canticles and when yoa shall have raised your hands to heaven with Moses, Amalek will be defeated and take to flight.
;
fighting,
come you
to our help,
and
Conimplore the assistance of God by very humble prayer. tinue to do as you are doing ; keep yourselves firm in the state in which God has placed you ; and though you know
not yourselves to be guilty of anything, yet never beheve yourselves just because God alone judges those whom he
;
and the most perfect are unable to measure the depths of his judgments. Be not anxious about man's judgment and without depending either upon your own judgjustifies,
;
ment or that of
that
witih
others,
walk on
m the fear of
the Lord, so
your neighbors, nor be ever discouraged or cast down by comparison but try, in all points, to do your duty,
;
always looking upon yourselves as unprofitable servants. As for me, I must go whither obedience calls me ; and, full
of confidence in
Hun
for
whom
I embrace these
toils
and
His hands the care of this house, and the dangers, I place keeping of your souls as in th hands of Him who is its true
and
first
Father."
having pronounced these words, he gave his paternal benediction to the assembled children of God, and departed,
A-fter
leaving them
all plunged in grief. But he appointed hif brother Gerard to accompany him in his journey
flrin or irrairs in
halt
111
CHAPTER XXIV
RATI or
AFrAIBS IN ITALT--8T. BERNARD AT ROMEOONFtSENCI OF SALERNOEND OF THE SCHISM.
part of Italy placed more immediately under the Roger of Sicily, did not profit by the advantages which the north and south of that turbulent country had
influence of
The
reaped from St. Bernard's mediation. The spirit of independence which animated these states, the rivalries which
all, the jealousy excited by the prodigious exaltation of Venice, produced a continual and violent fermentation, which the influence of
religion
had been
had not yet been able to subdue. The cities which pacified by St. Bernard, and which had returned
to the emperor's obedience, felt the shock of these political convulsions, and could not remain entirely neuter, in the
in hand.
midst of pretensions maintained by each hostile state, sword The Roman schism contributed but too powerfully
to perpetuate
these
disorders
afifairs
him to
maintain himself at Rome, and confront the lawful Pope The latter could depend upon the empire, France, upon
nearly all the Catholic powers ; but Anacletus had possession of Rome ; he was, in fact, seated upon the throne of
St. Peter,
pre-
ponderance which belonged to that imposing name. The unmediate vassals of the Holy See also lent him their arms
;
and,
the latter, Roger of Sicily showed himself the more devoted to hun, that his Interest was bound up with
among
Roger, after
238
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
head of a numerous army, which he had raised in Sicily, among the Saracens, Lombards, and Normans and, in order
;
to animate
and
pillage.
appearance
of the
King
and
was ravaged with fire A was needed to stay the course of these disasters for a moment, and give the Emperor of Germany time to accomplish his designs. Roger's wife, Alberia, was a woman of noble
character.
She alone possessed some influence over his implacable spirit ; and she had more than once ameliorated
the fate of the vanquished. But Alberia died suddenly ; and her death plunged the king into the deepest melancholy.
Disgusted with the world, and even with his own exploits, he shut himself up alone with his grief, and left his army
rise to
without a leader or an object. His long retirement gave a report of his death ; and at this rumor his adver-
gave themselves up to the most sanguinary reprisals Roger, mfuriated by grief, took upon himself to give the lie to this report, and to prove, at the same time, that he sought
saries
no other glory than deadly vengeance upon his enemies. He rallied the remainder of his troops around him, and
war with redoubled fury. No besieged town found mercy with him ; all had to submit to his cruel conditions, and through blood and havoc the conqueror marched
rekindled the
to
Rome.
Such was the deplorable state of things when the emperor, urged by St. Bernard and Innocent, appeared in Italy, at
German army. He had met with no The Italian cities, though they had no sympathy with German rule, opened their gates at
the head
of the
obstacle
in
Lombardy.
Lotharius' approach, and gave him free passage, without lendmg him any other assistance. The resistance began a;
RETURN TO ITALY.
approached Rome.
firm
;
239
Rome
Bologna capitulated, but ALUcona stood and the emperor, relinquishing the siege, and leaving on his right, proceeded towards Apulia, where ha
hoped to effect a junction with the NeapoUtans, who had promised him their assistance. The King of Sicily was there at the time, but being inferior in numbers, he avoided an
encounter, and contented himself with harassing the German troops on different sides at once. Meanwhile, the emperor regained several towns which had
been taken by Roger and, still victorious, he dislodged him successively from Capua, Monte Cassino, and pursued him
;
to Salerno.
Salerno was
tlie
King
of
Sicily's operations, and contained the considerable force which he had concentrated there. The united fleets of Pisa
in the reduction
of this town, on which was to depend the fate of all the south of Italy. But just as a decisive attack was about to
and, not-
withstanding the disappointment of those who had hoped for pillage, Lotharius, in obedience to the representations of the
after
having invested
and the
It
Duke Ranulf with the government of Apulia command of the German troops, returned with
this
Innocent to Rome.
was at
lerno.
He
his brother
had been detamed at Yiterbo by the sudden ilhiess of Gerard, whose counsel and assistance were very
Seeing him to be dying, and even already precious to him. at the gates of death, he turned to God and coniured Him to
spare his brother to him, at least, till his return to Clairvaux. This cry of his heart was heard in heaven, and Gerard was loon sufficiently recovered to be able to resume his journey
240
mSTOBT OF
soldier,
ST.
BERNARD.
tc the
Having been a
ways
of the world, Gerard possessed a degree of experience to which his illustrious brother did not disdain to have recourse.
On
their departure
first
to
it,
Monte Cassino
and bring back the misled religious to the obedience of Inno cent. This mission was fully successful but St. Bernard'!
;
his
In his turn, he fell dangerously and thought he was condemned to end his days far from In this persuasion, he wrote children, in a foreign land.
letter to the abbots of the
a touching
Order of Citeaux
and
said to them,
Spirit,
to unite me to you, the bonds of the heart I ask Him to render your hearts by ; sensible to the evils which I endure, and to make you feel, by the sympathy of fraternal charity, the sorrows which
overwhelm me.
It
is
my
weakness,
me
sigh
delay to call me to Himself, in order to re-unite that I may die in the midst of you."
me
to you,
God, who, to use the words of Baronius, would confound the mightiest things of this world by a weak and infirm man, granted the desh-es of his servant, and preserved a life thus wholly consecrated to the service of the Church. St Bernard, miraculously restored, went to Home to join the emperor and the Sovereign PontiflT. The antipope, separated from Roger, and discouraged by the rumor of his defeat,
Angelo, where
ruled over a great part of Rome. But St. Bernard renewed, in the very centre of the schism, the miracles which
in
Lombardy.
He
with
itood revolt and insubordination by the sweetness of his words, by the wisdom of his remonstrances, by the sanctity
f his
life.
His
irresistible influence
was, at
first,
successfaJ
DEATH OF LOTHARIUS.
Sil
oon insinuated
only over some individual partisans of the antipope ; but it itself into the masses, and triumphed over
Some n embers even of the family the most obstinate spirits. of Peter di Leone yielded to the urgency of the Abbot of Clairvaux ; and from that time forward the speedy extinc*
tion of the schism might be predicted. stance occurred which seemed to blight
But a
all
fatal circum-
these hopes
and
re-open the whole question again. Lotharius fell sick at Rome. Exhausted with fatigue, and already far advanced in years, he thought of nothing farther
than to return and end his days in Germany. But he could with difficulty be removed as far as Trent ; from thence, still
impatient to see his own country once more, he tried to pass the Alps ; but his strength failed him on the way, and he
among the mountains. The varioua made by this event, the news of which spread rapidly through Germany and Italy, may be easily conceived. In the critical position of the Church, the death of a monarch who had so nobly aided her, might be expected to produce most disastrous consequences. The most hostile factions now broke forth, and the King of Sicily was especially busy i
died in a shepherd's hut
impressions
'
various parts of Italy. lightmg up the beacon of war In the midst of all these discouraging events, St. Bernard,
With the strong in the help of God, was not discouraged. consent of the Pope, he set out for Rome, in order, if possible, to
desolated Italy. The mission was one of danger ; the troops of Ranulf were on the very eve of battle
I
Roger and
St.
He came
down
Bernard arrived at the camp of the King of Sicily. to him with words of peace, and invited him to lay
to
But Roger, deaf to all remonstrance, would any proposition. The saint withdrew, anto him in the name of the Lord of Hosts, that ha nooDcing
his arms.
not listen
242
msrORT of
ST.
BEHNAItD.
is
related that,
down upon
the
of battle, and exclaimed, in a transport of gratitude, " I return thanks to God and to His faithful servant ; and
is
his prayers."
Then, remountmg
his horse,
him to an ignominious flight. St. Bernard had remained during the battle
Moses on
the mountain, with his hands raised up to heaven ; and the fervor of his prayer inflamed the courage of those who
schism
^though a strong worldly interest kept him in could not but be struck by the providential triumph
Eang of
Sicily,
who was
not devoid of
re-
of Innocent's cause.
of
all,
evinced a desire
to understand
To
this end,
from Innocent and Anacletus, and fixed the conference at Palermo. He wished to be present at their discussions, and
to decide according to the light of his conscience.
Innocent
of Clairvaux to be his spokesman in this associated the Cardinals Heimery and Gerard and assembly, with him. Anacletus, on his side, chose three cardinals of
charged the
Abbot
his
party
his interests.
was renowned
and
and
juris-
prudence. Roger had named him with the express inteib Hon of confounding the holy Abbot of Clairvaux. At the opening of the conference, Peter of Pisa made a
CONFERENCE OF SALERNO.
pompous discourse
from the Canon
in favor of Anacletus,
by
historical facts
Law
He
Innocent's claim.
Bernard spoke next. " I know," said he to Peter of that you are a man of science and erudition ; and Pisa, would to God that your talents were consecrated to the
St.
"
good cause
eloquence
resist
in
;
For
assuredly,
is
behalf of what
you
fitted to
till
and, therefore, we, simple and rustic men, better the earth than to maintain disputations, would
us,
were
it
not
Jew dared
to rend at the
faith,
Lords
there
and to go back to the earliest period of history, was but one ark at the time of the deluge, wherein eight persons were saved, while all who were without it That ark was a figure of the Church, perished miserably.
;
Now,
in our days,
and
two, of necessity one of the two must be destined to perdition. If, then, the ark of Anacletus be
Bince there are
now
the ark of God, the ark of Innocent must perish ; and then all the Churches of the east and west will perish ; France
will perish
;
countries, will
ther,
Germany, England, Spain, the most distant be mvolved in the same perdition and, fur;
Grandmont, Premontre, Citeaux, and an infinite number of other servants and handmaids of God, will be lost in tht
244
HISTORY OF
?rreck
ST.
BERNARD.
same
all will
perish,
with bishops, abbots, and Christian princes, all, save Roger Roger alone shall be saved 1
I I
No
God
;
the earth
Religion shall not perish throughout and the ambitious Anacletus shall not be the sole
forbid
kmgdom whence
the ambitioaa
These words, animated by the penetrating grace imparted by the Spu'it of God, forcibly struck the prince and the rest
of the audience.
reply,
and remained
"
:
Then
let us
hand, saying
Trust me,
same ark, and we shall dwell therem in fuir security." He finished the work of conviction in private, and both set out together for Rome, where Peter of Pisa made his submission to Innocent.
As
to the
King of
Sicily,
notwithstand-
ing the unquestionable result of the conference, he dared not yet take a decided part ; self-mterest prevailed, in his mind,
over right and justice ; and, fascinated by the poHcy which attached hun to the cause of the antipope, he turned away,
like Pilate, after
is
truth, that he
might
not hear
it
But
this
long
at last approached
its close.
Anacle-
of grief and disappointment, fell sick. He had been gradually deprived of all his resources, and abandoned by his most zealous partisans. These reverses, far from making
tus, full
himself, embittered
him
of his Hfe. He died early in the year 1138. The schism did not, however, die with him. The cardinals of his party
were too deeply compromised in this deplorable matter to submit to Innocent ; and, in order to please the King of
Sicily,
and advance
his interests,
Pope
in the place of
Anacletus
the
dinal Gregory,
who took
name
245
New
result
dismemberments, incalculable misfortmies, might from this new schism and St. Bernard, who exceed;
them, used all his influence to preserve the Church from the calamities which threatened her. He sucingly feared
ceeded in dispersing the storm, more by the power of his Yictor, the prayers than even by the energy of his words. new antipope, was touched by grace and, a few days after
;
his election,
all
the tokens of a sincere repentance. received him with exceeding charity and joy ; he led him to the feet of Innocent, to make his
submission to the legitimate Pope, against whom neither arms, nor schism, nor heresy, nor all the efforts of hell, had
Vehement
Rome,
union.
rapidly throughout
all
Catholic
countries, and blessings were everywhere poured forth upon the Abbot of Clairvaux, He had his own part in the unL
versal joy
it
was given
vering
toil
and
whom
he had
struggle, to see the proud schismatic, against struck the first blow, humbled to the earth.
We
read his
own account
of the
happy conclusion of
this
matter, in a letter written by him to the Prior of Clairvaux : " On the very day of the octave of Pentecost, we
received from the
restoration
Church.
Lord the fulfilment of our prayers, in tho of peace to Rome, and union to the whole The partisans of Peter di Leone came that day to
prostrate themselves at the feet of the Sovereign Pontiff, and pay him liege homage and the oath of fealty. The
clergy of the antipope also humbled themselves before the Pontiff, together with the idol whom they had themselves
raised
to
the throne
and
all
to
obedience.
ness.
This joyful event has caused universal gladIf I had not had a kind of presentiment of this oo
246
elusion, I should,
HISTORY OF
St.
BERNARD
long ago, have returnea to you. Now I me here ; and, instead of saywill
as
formerly, I
;
come
say, I come.
Yes
come immediately
gles,
and bring, as the reward of my strugthe triumph of Jesus Christ, and the peace of the
letter will only precede
Church. "
me by
is
a few
better
tidings
I come, charged with the fruits of peace. must be mad or impious, who rejoices not thereat.
The man
Adieu."
CHAPTER XXY.
RETURN PROM ROME TO CLAIRVAUXFOUNDATION OF NEW MON. ASTERIESDEATH OF ST. BERNARD'S BROTHER, GERARDFUNERAL
ORATION.
St.
in
Rome
which
even surpassed that which marked his progress throughout " When he appeared in the streets,*' says a conLombardy. " temporary biographer, the nobles formed his tram, the peo-
and all men crowded around him with the liveliest demonstrations of But how long," cries the same respect and deference.
ple uttered acclamations, the ladies followed him,
had he to endure this glory ? author, did he enjoy after such lengthened toil ?
"
take a day of relaxation for each year of labor ; and he who had spent seven years in stemming disorder, re-establishing peace, cementing union, could not resolve, even at
the entreaty of his friends, to stay more than five days in Rome, after the extinction of the schism."
The servant of God hurried away from the applause of tke world to seek a sweet repose in solitude, in the society
241
God
m the
On his return to Clairvanx, about the end of the year 1138, he set hunself to distribute the overflowmg streams from his monastery into a number of different channels, which were to carry afar, into all parts of Europe, the fer^
tilizing
Germany, Sweden, England, Ireland, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Switzerland, even Asia, sent to France for apostles
for the edification of the world.
from the school which, from that tune forward, flourished The mere catalogue of
fill a volume. But we will say one word concerning the monastery which, at the desire of Innocent II., St. Bernard established at Rome. That Pontiff,
who
whose
should be a perfect model of sanctity, offered buildings of St. Anastatius, near the Salvian waters Whence called the Abbey of the Three Foun-
tains.*
monks
disciple and worthy son of him whose name he bore. He became Pope glorious destiny was reserved for him. under the name of Eugenius III., and we shall read the
But
besides this
who, from the humblest rank among the monks of Clairvaux, was raised to the highest dignity in the world, a
apostolic
number of
in the
same
fill
school,
who
the most
edifice,
Christendom, was built on the spot where St. Paul was beheaded. It was called the Three Fountains, because from the spots touched by the apostle^s head, as it bounded three times on the j^ound, sprang
bre fountains.
248
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
The
private secretary of
Bernard, named Baldwin, whom Innocent II. had detained at Rome, became Cardinal and Archbishop of
Pisa.
were, at the
Stephen and Hugh, two other monks of Glairvaux, same tune, invested with the Roman purple,
in
and reeeived
and Palestrina.
several cities in
The
Germany, two
in Ireland,
who
en-
But the great soul which, like a fruitful and happy mother, had brought forth so many illustrious prelates the prophet of God, whose disciples illustrated all grades of the Churches
^the
;
humble Bernard, remamed inflexibly on the nor would he ever exchange for any worldly
brethren.
The holy abbot, notwithstanding the cares centred upon him by all these new foundations, had resumed, since his return to Clairvaux, his daily exposition of the Candcle of In these ever-flowing discourses, he waa never Canticles.
infinite
;
men
and
his
dant eloquence shed over the souls of others the heavenly life and blessedness which inundated his own.
But he had
of instructions,
scarcely
recommenced
this
wonderful course
fell
when
his brother
Gerard
suddenly
sick.
He
unraediately called to
fered to
God
for
mind the prayer which he had ofhim while still at Yiterbo he had asked
:
Clairvaux.
;
The
I
Biunt
iw
had forgotten
but, alas
to bt
DIATH OF
ms
BROTHER.
S4f
parted from a brother to whom he was bound by all the ties of grace and nature. Gerard himself tranquilly awaited his last hour, and yielded his latest breath as he finished chanting a psalm, happy to die in the arms of a brother who waa On this occasion St. Beralso his father in Jesus Christ.
nard astonished the whole conmiunity by the wonderful firmness which he displayed and the victory which he gained over himself. Like the royal prophet, he had given way to
his grief while
Gerard was
sick
inflexible,
He every complaint, every sigh, every token of sensibility. himself arranged the funeral, he directed the office ; and, during the whole of the funeral ceremonial, his calmness, his
impassibility, struck the
the more, as it contrasted with their own affliction, which burst forth in irrepressible sighs and tears. St. Bernard, till that day, had never lost a religious without weeping for him
it
that
now he
his own by such intense sympathy and love ? Let us hear the explanation of this strange fact, from his
On the very day of the funeral, the saint, to omit none of his duties, ascended the pulpit, and continued his exposition of the Canticle of Canticles. But he suddenly
own mouth.
stopped
;
his
voice
was drowned
it
in tears
grief
choked
hun
his breast
At
last
he threw himself, as
were, upon the bosom of his brethren, }ind pronounced the admirable discourse which is here subtranscribe it almost entire, notwithstanding iti joined.
We
to
who weep and in order communicate to them the sweet emotions we have oup;
:
selves experienced
quence
"
on reading
My
affliction
150
pel
HISTORY OF
to
an.
Bernard.
me
break
Why should
in
I dissemble
con-
what I
feel ?
The
which I conceal
my bosom
it
me
within
me
the more does its violence increase. How, then, can I unfold this song of gladness, while my soul is sad and in heaviness ? The excess of my grief takes from me all Hberty
of
all
spirit,
Hitherto I have striven, I have the light of my soul. been able to master myself, fearing lest the sentiments of
no doubt
nature should overpower those of faith. You observed it, I sad without followed the shedding ; procession a tear, while all around me wept abundantly ; I stood with
dry eyes by that grave, the sight whereof wrung my heart In my priestly vestments, I said the prayers of the Church
I cast with my own hands, as the cus; the earth upon the body of my dearly loved, which shall soon be reduced to dust. You marvelled that I melted
over the deceased
tom
is,
not into tears, you who wept less for the deceased than for me. What heart, indeed, were it of bronze, but must be
touched to see
me
survive Gerard ?
It
was because I
col-
my
courage, to withstand my weakness. " But I have not been able to command
have repressed my tears as it is written, I was afflicted and I kept silerux.^* I wished to concentrate my sorrows
'
my
feelings as I
within myself
acute.
Now,
my
suflferhiga
Let them,
my
may
have compassion on me, and may the more tenderly console me. You know, my children, what deep cause I have of
iorrow
left
;
for
me
you knew that faithful companion who has now wherem we walked together you
;
P. 7.
FUNERAL ORATION.
S51
the care which he
knew the
took of
all
services he rendered to
me
things ; the diligence with which he performed his actions the sweetness which characterized all his
all
;
conduct.
Who can
be to
me what he was
was
Who has
eyer
loved
me
;
as he did ?
He
blood
ligion.
my
;
you who know all this. I was weak in body, and he supported me I was timid, and he encourme I was and me to action ; I was he excited aged slow, wanting in memory and foresight, and he reminded me. O
my
lot,
my
me ?
us,
;
my
man who
well beloved,
according to
why didst thou leave thy brother ? my own heart, why has death parted
were so closely bound together during life? alone could have made this cruel separation.
but death, implacable death, the enemy of all things sweet, could have broken this Imk of love so gentle, so tender, so
lively,
so intense ?
Cruel death
;
me
Thy
me
in all
;
my
my
comfort at
all
tunes "
We
thy prudence accompanied all my steps. rejoiced together in our fraternal union ; our mutual
;
lost this
happmess, for thou hast found far greater consolations ; thou dost enjoy the unmortal presence of Jesus Christ and
the
company of angels
left ?
fill
the void
are
Ah
I would fain
know what
the brother
who was
divme
Ught, and inebriated Tsith eternal bliss, thou art yet permitted to thiok of our miseries, to concern thyself about our
ior'X)ws
;
for,
known
us acconi>
252
BISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
He who u a** ing to the flesh, thou knowest us no more. tached to God is but one sjpirit with Him. He has no longer
any thought or care but for God and the thmgs of GK>d, because he is wholly filled with God. Now, God is love;
dlosely a soul
is
;
is
united with
is
God
the fuller
;
it
is
of love.
It
true, that
God
impassible
but
He
is
not insensible
most proper to
Him
to
have compassion, and to forgive. Therefore, thou must needs be merciful who art united to the source of mercy ; and although thou art delivered from misery, thou hast not
ceased to compassionate our sufferings not diminished by being transformed.
;
and thy
affection
is
Thou
thy mfirmities, but not thy charity ; for choHty abideth, says the apostle. Ah, no, thou wilt not forget us throughout
eternity
I
"
Alas
whom
me
shall I
now
consult in
my
sorrows ?
To
will
whom
shall I
have recourse in
the burthen of
bear with
my my woes ?
me ?
difficulties ?
Who
will
Who
It
defend
me from
which guided my steps. Thy heart, O my was more laden, more burthened than mine with brother, the cares which overwhelm me with thy words of sweetness and unction thou wert wont to supply my place, and set me free from secular conversations to enjoy the silence which I
my Gerard
love.
all
stayed the flood of visits, and would not suffer and absorb my persons to come without distinction,
He
leisure
to
me
he took upon himself to receive them, and brought pruonly such as he judged it fittmg I should see.
; 1
dent
man
faithful friend
He
fulfilled,
at once, the
his
duties of friendship
taste led
and of
charity.
It
offices,
but he undertook
them to spare me, to assist me, believing my repose to be more advantageous to the monastery than his own. Thus, t the approach of death, 'Thou knowest,* said he, *0 my
rUNERAL ORAnOK
253
to
God, that for myself I have always desired retirement, and be occupied with Thee alone but Thy service, the will
;
brethren, the duty of obedience, and especially the love of that brother who is both my father and my superior,
of
my
have engaged
me
Oh, yes, it is true, to Gerard I owe whatever progress 1 have been able to make in my spiritual exercises. Thou
wert in the midst of the embarrassment of business whilst I
my Saviour, or occupied the instruction and, assuredly, I could repose in all security whilst thou wert acting for me as my right hand ; as the
re-collected in
;
was
of
my children
light of
my
eyes
as
my
heart and
my
tongue.
'
Thy hand
and thy
Ps. 36.
small,
was
written,
and
in all things
great
and
I depended, public and private, internal and external. mdeed, upon him, for he was wholly mine, and left me only the name and honor of my office, of which he alone bore
the burthen.
painful
was
of
called
abbot
but he
fulfilled all
the
self-
functions
my my
charge;
and
thus,
by
his
devotion,
exercises, practioes.
he gamed for
me
my
prayers,
studies,
my
preaching,
my my interior
for
you must needs fall ; and let the waters pour my eyes open, forth abundantly to wash away the faults which have brought
"Flow, then,
my
let
the fountains of
this chastisement
(
upon me.
"^moum,
The
dealt rightly with us both ; one has been justly punished, I will say, then the Lord the other deservedly crowned.
hath shown hunself equally just and merciful He gave him to us He hath taken him away ; and if we are made deso*
; ;
late
by the
loss, let
we
so long
enjoyed^
254
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD
less
Doubt I beseech you bear patiently with my complaints. we see every day the dead weeping for the dead. Bui
There
is
what do they ?
Borrow.
wcjrthy of tears.
this world,
in
much
noise
and
little fruit in
such
this
For my
but I regret Gerard. My soul was so bound up his that the two made but one. Doubtless the ties of
;
and
And
as
we were
in truth
one is in heaven, the other is left in the dust of this parts world. Some one will, perhaps, tell me ^your grief is
two
I deny not that it is human, as I deny not that I am a man. Nay, more, I will grant that it is carnal, since I myself am carnal the slave of sm, destined to die, subject
carnal.
to misery.
in blood,
my father m his care of me, my only beloved in his affection, my very soul in his love he is taken from me, and must I not feel it ? Ah I am wounded
religion,
What my son in
Gerard
is
taken from
me
^my brother
wounded
of
grievously Forgive me, my children or, rather, since you are my children, compassionate the sorrow
!
of your father.
God
He
good
renders to every
to Gerard the
murmur not against the judgments man according to his works crown which he has won to me the anguish
;
No
which
Gerard, that I may not have lost thee, but that thou mayest only precede me, and that I may follow thee whither thou art gone For,
is
for me.^
God
grant,
my
gone to join those whom thou didst call upon to praise God with thee, when in the middle of that last night, to the astonishment of all present, thou didst
assuredly, thou art
suddenly intone, with a calm countenance, and voice of Praise the Lord all ye gladness, that verse of the psalm in heayen; praise Him in the highest heaven.* Ps 148
'
rUNERAL ORATION.
266
At that moment,
was
full
my brother,
it
They
me
to witness thii
miracle, to see a
I
man
rejoicing in death.
death, where
ifl
To him tJiou art death, where is thy sting 1 thy victim no sting, but a song of jubilee This man dies singing, and And death, that mother of sorrow, sings as he is dying
1 I
dymg man, than I heard him pronounce aloud these words of the psalmist : Father, into thy hands
'
I commend my spu-it.' Then repeatmg that same verse, and dwelling on the words, Father Father I' he turned towards me, and said, with a smile f* Oh, what goodness ir God to be the Father of men and what glory for men
'
to be the children of
God
I^
all
deplore
almost changed
my
afflic-
make me
forget
my
misery "
and thy great mercies, that Thou mayest be justified in Thy When we words, and mayest triumph over our judgments
I
last year,
;
and his illness becoming daily more and more dangerous, I thought the time was come when God would call him to Himself. I could not then make up my mind to lose, in a strange land, this dear companion of my
journey and ardently desiring to restore him to the hands which had intrusted him to me (for every one loved him,
;
and he desired to be loved by every one), I began to pray and sigh, and I said to the Lord: *Lord, wait till my
return
!
Wait
;
till
brethren
will
be Thy
will,
and I W<i
me
then,
25(5
HisrroRt
of
st.
Bernard.
intiosted us,
Thou hadst
an^
returned together with joy, bringing witii us the fruits of Alas I had well nigh forgotten my promises, but peace.
I
Thou,
Lord, didst remember them, and I am ashamed of these tears, which testify my unfaithfulness. What more
to
shall I say ?
Thou hast recalled what belonged Thou hast resumed what was Thine own.
Thee
My
tears
compel
grief 1"
me
to stop.
my
CHAPTER XXYI.
HAPPY CONSEQUENCES OP THE EXTINCTION OP THE SCHISMPH. PONDERANCE OP THE PAPACY IN ITALY, GERMANY, AND FRANCEDISPUTES OP LOUIS Vn. WITH THE COUNT OP CHAMPAGNE~MBD
ATION OP
ST.
BERNARDVISIT OP
ST.
MALACHI.
The sorrow
depicted upon the countenance of St. Bernard, and the deep grief which waited hig
still
frame, discovered
more
wound
in his heart.
;
Yet he
down
day
of affliction
and the
Italy
Innocent
and to extend
at
Rome.
He
held a council
the
sand bishops were assembled under his auspices. They labored for the establishment of discipline and, in order
;
to impress
upon tne
mmds
PEACE IN HALT.
prelates
251
their fimctions
This rigorous measure touched, among others, Cardinal Peter of Pisa, who, having been at first the chief mover in
the schism, had yielded to St. Bernard's arguments, and Not considerthe hands of the Pope. abjured his error mg himself, therefore, worthy of a punishment from which
the
Abbot
apphed to him, complaming of the hard measure dealt to him, and claiming his plighted promise.
St.
and
took
warmly
to heart.
He
cent in favor of the cardinal, without obtaining any satifv factory reply ; he even displeased the Pope by his unportunity on the
same subject
soul,
hungering
legitunate rights.
He
at the risk of entirely losmg his favor ; and the expressions which he uses are remarkable. '* Who, then," says he to " will do me justice against you ? If the Sovereign Pontiff,
you
after
whom I could cite you, I would show what manner you deserve that I should act on this
There
ie
occasion.
well.
know
it
But,
God
that tribunal, where, on the contrary, I would fain defend you 1 Therefore it is that I have recourse to him who has
received commission to do justice to all
to yourself."
;
The
related
effect
of these
not been
by contemporary authors; but Manriquez asserts that the Pope yielded to the representations of the saint, and that he re-established Peter of Pisa in his high dignities. Innocent II. had regained, in Rome and in all other Chri
tian states, the plenitude of his authority
;
he established
it
258
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Under his influence pennanently, and used it successfully. the German princes, assembled at Mayence, five monthi
placed Duke Conrad, of the Hohenstauflfen, upon imperial throne, who, under the had himself to be proclaimed Ejng caused precedmg reign,
after
the death
of Lotharius,
of Italy.
and devotion to the Holy See and, during the late camHis elecpaigns, had proved himself as valiant as faithful.
tion,
entailed most serious consequences upoa Germany, and rekindled the never-ending feud between the Guelphs and GhibeUines. But, notwithstanding violent
opposition,
Conrad
III.
The
by
cles
pontifical authority,
now everywhere
by one
civilization.
life and That august power, the mediatrix between kings and people, had resumed its preponderance in the affairs of the world, and pursued, with marvellous success,
the
movement given to it by Gregory YII. and that single enemy now remained to the Holy See was interest to foment new whose schisms, dwelt in enemy,
accelerated
One
the heart of Italy. Roger of Sicily had concealed his resentment while Ranulf held him in check before Salerno ;
but no sooner was the latter dead, and old pretensions renewed, by the changes which had taken place in Germany, than Roger resumed his arms, and agam menaced the Roman States. The Pope, alarmed at the rapidity of his
progress, did not
thmk
fit
troops
zeal, and the pressing danKing filled him with it was resolutions ger, courageous necessary, lie thought, to deal boldly with an intractable enemy. A
against the
His
FEACX IN ITALY.
269
battle was fought ; but, if the issue was to the advantage of the Pope, it was not brought about by the glory of his arms, but, on the contrary, by the humiliation of his person
scarcely met, when Roger, by a skilful surrounded the Pope with the greater number manoeuvre, of his troops, and kept him prisoner. This event happened
led to Roger's
camp
mon
showed him
Innocent
the respect which Christian piety suggests. himself, moved by the conqueror's demeanor,
disposition to yield something on his side; and both resolved to put an end to hostihttes, by a treaty of alliance. The basis of this covenant was the confirmation
showed a
of the prerogatives which the antipope had conferred upon the Eang of Sicily. Roger consented to receive the investiture of his possessions from the hand of the Pope ; and, on this condition, he obtained the crown a second tune, as
Thus was
Sicily definitively
erected uato a kingdom, and peace secured to the different The temporal advantage remained with republics of Italy.
all
the
II., victorious
even
m his defeat,
knew how
to
make
circumstances to add to the spiritual power all of which he had deprived the temporal. On both sides, doubtless, there was an excess ; but, in the absence of a mature state of
civilization,
the balance cf political rights. Innocent had evinced great eal and vigor, when banished from Rome and destitute of
all
human
help
when
and
took the form of obstinacy, and he opposed hunself, as an Immovable rock to the arbitrary will of sovereigns.
60
HISTORY or
ST.
BERNABD.
At
new
the very time of the conclusion of the Italian war, a contest, which ended in bloodshed, arose between the
St. Ber-
at some
The
pute
dis-
between the spiritual and temporal powers, had excited Ihe cupidity of Louis VII. This young prince, jealous of
the exercise of his authority over the provinces lately united
by his marriage with Eleanor, disputed the right of election, and curtailed other ecclesiastical hberties enjoyed
to France,
by them.
in
Serious disturbances arose, on several occasions, consequence of these reciprocal pretensions ; but when
the see of Bourges, the capital of Aquitaine, became vacant, Louis YII. wished to overrule the election of the chapter,
his
own
the Archbishopric
of
Bourges. This energetic intervention was regarded by Louis le Jeune as an infringement and usurpation on the rights of the
crown
he swore, in his angr, that he would never permit ; Lachatre to take possession of his see ; and, jommg deeds to words, he persecuted the archbishop, who took refuge
with Thibaud, Count of Champagne. Thibaud, who was already at feud with the kmg, on account of a personal offence, took up arms and repulsed the
royal troops
and
but he was overpowered by superior numbers, domains invaded, and ravaged with fire and sword. Innocent II. could not look on with mdifference at the
;
his
/evenge of Louis le Jeune, and addressed severe menaces to him. St. Bernard himself, the friend of Thibaud, and the
director of his conscience,
in this matter, in
wder to avert
its
fatal consequences.
I fear/* he
DISSENSIONS IN FRANCI.
to the
261
fruitless.
young king, "that your highness renders my labors You seem to regard wise counsels too lightly,
while you listen, on the other hand, to the suggestions of the demon who urges you to fire and sword. Your highness,
is permitted to entertain that which is honorable you regard ; to you as an affront, and that which is disgraceful to you as an honor ; you may be accused of loving your enemies
by a
secret
judgment of God,
false idea
of things
friends.
dare prophesy to you that your sin wiU not remain long I exhort you, with the zeal of a faithful serunpunished.
vant, to put an end to this course, to be converted, after
the example of the King of Nineveh, and to stay the hand of God, which is already raised to strike you. Remember those words The wovmds of a friend are hetter than the
'
of an enemy J" Such warnings seldom failed of their effect but the mind of the young prince was too much exasperated against the Pope, too much excited against those who had resisted his
kisses
;
He
seemed even to brave the anathema which the Sovereign and hating alike Peter de Pontiff pronounced against him
;
against Thibaud, and gave free course to his unjust resentHis anger was at last exhausted by its own excess. ment.
He had given orders to attack Yitry, which he mg it was soon taken, and, at his command,
;
was
set
besieg-
on
fire
The flames unfortunately reached the principal church, in which most of the inhabitants had taken refuge and Louis
;
YII. beheld, with horror, the fatal effects of his vengeance. More than 1,300 of the inhabitants, men, women, and children, perished frightfully in this conflagration
cries
j
their fearful
;
262
remorse bTOugbt
to the
HISTORY OP ST
BERNARD.
down
his pride
Pope, and wishing to be re-admitted to the communion of the Church, he conjured St. Bernard to solicit his
^-ontinue in arms, because of his oath to
Strange to say, he thought himself bound to Peter de Lachatre, and he asked, 9i. the same time, absolution from Rome for
absolution.
his crimes,
them.
"
You know,
"that
it
is
counted a
dishonorable act
among Frenchmen
man of
obliged to keep unlawful engagements." This affair was delayed because of the mterests of Count
Ralph of Yermandois, which were interwoven with those of the Ocmnt of Champagne and Thibaud, meanwhile, was
;
left in
whom
the most deplorable condition. This virtuous prince, all historians combine to praise, was doomed to en-
Almost
emboldened by
him, and aided the aggressions of the King of France. Forsaken by his friends, and without troops for his defence, he
sent for the Abbot of Clairvaux, in order to derive from the bosom of religion the strength necessary to sustain such cruel The servant of God set before his eyes the great trials.
life,
suffer
with
constancy in order to merit true glory. him, by the example of the apostle, that
He
God
whom He
virtue is
admits into the number of His children, and that this life j)erfected in weakness ; because prosperity
indolent,
whUe
adversity strengthens
and
raises
them
to heaven
by detachmg them
appeasmg these
dif-
from earth.
at last in
He
between
TISIT
OF
ST.
MALACHl.
263
the Count of
latter,
Champagne and
the
ter
upon the death of his second wife, married the daughof Thibaud, whose son, Philip Augustus, succeeded him
Bernard, during the whole course of his public life, more painful affair to settle than that
on the throne
St.
had
never, perhaps, a
which he had now brought to so happy a termination. The particular friendship which he bore to the Count of Champagne, and the immense benefits conferred on the Order of Citeaux by that virtuous prince, had imposed on him an
obligation to maintain his rights and espouse his cause. so many passions had been aroused in this quarrel, so
But
many
eminent persons had taken part in it, that it was difficult for him to interfere without raising to himself most formidable
enemies.
At
ment, not only to the King of France but to the Sovereign Pontiff himself, who, wearied with the importunity of the
Abbot
But
nothing could move the saint's patience or the generous devotion he had vowed to his friend. He had never rested till
^e had
In the midst, however, of the tribulations which, in these sad circumstances, afflicted the community of Clairvaux, St.
Bernard experienced consolations of another kind, and derepeating that song of the Psalmist, According to the multitude of the sorrows my htart^ Thy consolations have gladdened my soulP Ps. 13.
lighted
*'
One of the sweetest pleasures granted to him, of which he speaks with unceasing gratitude, was that afforded by
the visit of St. Malachi, Bishop
land.
and Metropolitan of Irelong known him by name, or, to speak the more Christian language of the chroniclers, he had long
He had
in
God.
saints,
my*
264
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
teriously attracted
meet.
towards each other, ardently desired to In the year 1139 their wish was St. accomplished.
Malachi, being obhged to go to Rome, passed through France, and came to Clauraux, where his soul was knit to that of St. Bernard as the kon is drawn to the loadstone.
Enchanted with the angehc scene presented to hun by the desert of Clairvaux, and msatiably desu-ous to see and hear
the extraordinary
heaven, he
with
my
given to earth this work of with the cried, Queen of Saba, -'What I see eyes surpasses all that has been told me of the sanc-
tity of this
monastery.
you.
Happy your
children
Happy are those who belong to who always enjoy your presence,
wisdom which ilow from your
to the words of
so deep that, unable from Clairvaux, he wished to end his days there. But Bernard, although he gave him the habit of the order, would not consent to admit him among the reto tear himself
ligious
return from
journey and his episcopal functions. St. Malachi, on his Rome, took back several monks from Clau-vaux;
he founded a monastery of the order, which soon gave birth to four other houses Ireland, and contributed mightily to
the Christian civilization of that interesting country. In the course of a second journey to Rome, however, St. Malachi returned once
to his
more to Clairvaux
and
prediction,
and
there, according
own
desire
he died
m the arms
of St.
Bernard, and was buried in the church of the monastery. The life and death of this humble Apostle of Ireland, afforded so much Hght and consolation to nis age, that Ber-
nard himself umdertook to write his history. He published it, as he says in the preface, in order cO rekindle the luke-
26ft
Thus did the Abbot of Clairvaux employ, for the cdificar him by public affcdrs, and
office.
his
pen
will notice here his memorable At the same period. letter to the Chapter of Lyons, on the subject of the feast, then recently instituted, of the Immaculate Conception of
We
Mary.
this feast,
At
the vigilant sentmel of the Church, he opposed which was not yet consecrated by the Holy See. a time when all kinds of novelties were seizing upon
As
men's imaginations, he thought it his duty to point out to the Pope a solemnity, the subject of which had not yet been " The Royal Yirpositively pronounced on by the Church.
crowned with so many high Praise not this new homage. that she needs prerogatives, her as the Virgin named by angels, desired by nations, known
gin," said he, in his letter, "is
to patriarchs and prophets, elect of God, chosen among all ; praise her as the channel of divine graces, as the mediatrix
of salvation, as the restorer of the worid ; celebrate, in short, by all kinds of homage, her who is exalted above the angels ;
for thus sings the Church,
sing.
But I have a scruple in admitting that which she " I does not teach me. For the rest," says he, in conclusion,
defer
on
this point, as
on
all
others, to the
;
Roman Church
if
be made by
her."
letter, according to the writers of the time, called forth some other works on the same subject ; but the dis-
This
cussion did not occupy public attention. Questions of more inmiediate interest arose at that period. They absorbed the attention of the Roman Court, and opened a new sphere
a career wholly
scientific,
which his high mission was not less gloriously manifested than in that of politics. The material schism had been tti
26$
fled,
HisrroRT
of
st.
Bernard.
still
men
and
ofif
the
yoke of political power urged human reason to free itself from spiritual authority. Hence, a new phase in the Ufe of St. Bernard, which we shall see develop and increase in tht
following chapters
9i6il
/onrti) )Perio0
CHAPTER XXVII.
BCIENTIFIC LIFE OF ST. BERNARD,
FROM HIS DISPUTES WITH THE HERETICS TO THE PREACHING OF THE SECOND CRUSADE. (1140-1145.)
Philosophical disputes, when they deeply agitate the minds of men, are never isolated contests ; they attest the intellectual life of an age, and characterize its tendency.
Thus, the mere enunciation of the questions raised in St Bernard's time gives the lie to the long-cherished opinion, that the middle age was a time of ignorance and barbarism.
rich
left
;
to
testify,
on the contrary,
vigor
and
the twelfth century especially is distmguished by its subtlety of thought as well as by the sublimity of its leading idea
The
ruled
philosophical
all
and profoundly Christian idea which the science of the middle age, was faith as the
source of light. Faith was the common centre of all branches of human knowledge ; and from this Kving source the waves of light and truth were seen to flow in harmony
and
order.
this idea coincided
The period of the devclopmeat of the human mind. nations of Christendom had arrived at that era when imagi
Batlon, exhausted
by prodigious
efforts,
begins to fade
away
268
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD
before positive reason an age of maturity which has its perils as well in the intellectual as in the physical order
quires the consciousness of his freedom together with the sense of his dignity ; he judges, compares, foresees, rests on
himself, boasts of his strength,
Hence, the aberrations, not of undiscipHned imagmation only, but of reason itself, which stirs up the will In the twelfth century this to revolt against authority.
yoke of law.
double tendency
^that
by which sought to explain faith by human arguments clearly brought out, and formed two distinct schools
one, impersonated
in St.
enhghten science
of the Christian idea which sought to faith, and that of the rationalizing idea
waa
^the
Bernard
all tunes,
and
in different
By
rationahstic sys-
tems by which the human mind attempted to reform science at its will, and to strip it of its mysteries. Hence, the anon the eternal founded science between principles tagonism
of revelation, and science based upon the variable premises In fact, according as man opens himof human thought.
self to
shuts himself
efforts,
the Divine influence to receive light from on high, or up within himself to enkindle it by his own
so will science differ both in
;
its
tendency and
its
results
and from these two modes of proceeding will flow two opposite schools of teaching, to which all philosophical
systems
may be
be
referred.
irrelevaL'+ to the subject before us to offer
It will not
some considerations
regardi.
g these two
schools, especially
as they eprmg forth naturally from the disputes in which Bt. Bernard was compelled to take so prominent a part,
S((9
and as they
liyed.
r^The germ of true philosophy, which is at once science and wisdom, is to be found in the sacred Scriptures. It reveals the mysteries of God, of man, and of the worid, aa'
well as the relation of
tells
man
It
fall, the dispersion of mankind, the development of evil, side by side with good, that the human will may choose between them ; and of the Divine scheme for the
of the
restoration of man, and the re-establishment of harmony between heaven and earth. These truths are the foundation of all science
;
to another, corrapted and degraded, more or less, among the other descendants of Noah. Moses, initiated in the
God, and consecrated by a vocation from on high, engraved these Divine revelations upon tables of stone, and gave them, as a sacred deposit, to a people miraculously
secrets of
chosen out of
all
This nation
is,
human and
philosophy.
dis-
ciples
we
God and
of His
Word, by whom
necessary relation of God with man, and of the free relation of man with God, was professed by the first Christian philosophers
;
in
paganism,
were Platonists
bom
in the
bosom of
and
literature of
* M. Bantain Phil dn
Chriat.
2*70
HISTOBY OF ST
all their
BERNARD
Greece, referred
principles
Thus did
Clement
of Alexandria, Origen, St. Athanasius, and many others, seek to lead minds to the source of true science, whose
object
is
eternal
truth,
and whose
result is
not the mere delight of admiration and contemplation, but the love and practice of good." The teaching of these philosophers was not argumentative
ple,
on the contrary, they laid down the doctrine in a simpositive, and dogmatic manner, making the Word of
;
God, not the thought of man, the foundation of science. Thus arose Catholic philosophy, a glory around the head of
theology.
dogmas
mitted the investigations of reason only when they started from the prmciples of faith
Now,
is
and the craving of its self-willed activity, pride of reason the presumption of its self-conceit, has built, by the side of
the science according to God, a science according to man The first proceeds from the love of Divine wisdom, whence
comes her noble name, philosophy the second is a fruit of human wisdom, which covets truth, and usurps her name.
;
her, philosophy is not the love of truth, but the search after truth, accordmg to the rules of dialectics that is, to use St. Bernard's words, it is the art of always
According to
seeking
that pagan science, father, which, at every period of its rational itself up as a rival to true scisets development, ence ; and attempts, by the way of syllogism, to explore the most sublime paths of truth. " Sophistry," contmues the " author already quoted, takes possession of the facts of the
it
it.
It
is
PHILOSOPHY
OJt
271
;
and, as
them
phemy."
As
and
in
long as the art of dialectics was exercised legitunately, dependence upon faith, it did no injury to the teach-
ing of the Church, but' proved, on the contrary, a powerful ally ; but, now become the accomplice of reason in its insurrection against faith,
it
^into
sophistical puerile argumentations, which compromise the sacredness of the doctrine, even in the attempt to main-
and
tain
Thus, in the 12th century, rationalism broke out but it had, long ; The schools founded by before, given tokens of revolt. Charlemagne were already the exponents of this tendency.
it.
What
Charlemagne undertook in the west, the celebrated Caliph Haroun Al Raschid had done in the east. Institutions arose on all sides, intended to assist the development
of
human
intellect.
Meanwhile, Aristotle had arrested the This people, which was gifted with
ill-translated
a strong and active intellect, delighted m his works and, through the medium of the Jews
;
in Spain, the
From
teachers,
among
the Christian
faith,
had been always kept in subordination to began to deviate, and expatiate in a distinct sphere.*
The Jews played a great part in the transmission of Arahian science to the west. In the twelfth century there were brilliant schools in Spain, as well as in France, in which Aben, Ezra, Jonas, <fec., shone, from these vain rationalists and bold interpreters of Aristotle, Judaism received its modem form ; and the same disputatious which had given
the semi-religious and semi-rationalistic work of the Talmud, threatened to seize on books of theological interpretation. More than
rise to
spirit of
Maimonides, oom^^osed
273
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
The impulse which Charlemagne had given to study, the sxcitement which he had given to reason, by laying a
host of curious questions before it, occasioned disputations, adapted rather to obscure and perplex, than to further the
Thus, a woman pretended to have progress of science. found the precise date of the end of the world in the Apo-
monk calypse ; she alleged proofs, and found partisans. of Corbie, grounding his theory upon St. Augustme, taught that all men were animated by one and the same soul.
Other writers disputed as to the manner
in
Virgin gave birth to the Divine Messiah. Every kind of question, grave or puerile, became in turn the object of
scholastic investigation.
As
ity of Aristotle
had attained such a preponderance that he was quoted with the same reverence as the Fathers of the Church ; and neither popes nor councils could resist the
influence
These
schools degenerated into public arenas, where truth the sport of reason, armed with syllogisms.
became
century,
ning of the twelfth, rationalism, fully developed, threw down the gauntlet before the theologians of the dogmatic school,
to
whom
name
of superannuated doctors
while they, on the other hand, treated the partisans of Aristotle as innovators (dodores rum).
One
at
its
who was
looked upon as
a sophist (John
and
that science ought not to be founded upon words which Around this thesis express only the notions of the mind.
arose a vehement and celebrated dispute, which completed
Ihe schism of the doctors of the
two opposite
factiooi
2T8
John Roscelin, Canon of Compiegne, maintained that ideas were nothing but words (flatus vods), by means of which we designate the notions of reason he, and his school,
;
received the
name
realist
Both
schools,
by
syllogistic
arguments.
own
his who, representing this spirit of the the head at himself movement, person, placed and popularized, in some sort, these scientific questions.
Passionately fond of glory, and full of confidence in his unquestionable talent, he undertook, with a freedom unheard of till his time, to establish the truth of the dogmas of faith
the attempt ; acd without shrinking from the consequences of so audacious a method, he dogmatized upon all questions of faith and
his disciples, bolder
He made
but Abelard remamed obedient to the Church and less pious than himself, pushed the new method to its utmost limits, and achieved the total
morals.
;
separation of theology and Christian philosophy. Such novelties, which were soon to invade all the schools,
could not remaui long in exercise without engendering errors and fatal heresies. The exaltation of individual reason now
knew no bounds
the sanctuary of science was thrown open and ancient errors re-appeared, ;
subtleties.
modem
Among the false doctrines whose germs had more than once produced their poisonous fruits, since the infancy of the
Church, that of the Manicheans was one of the most remarkIt would not able, which revived in the twelfth century.
be easy to offer an analysis of this formidable heresy, which anited, under a common denomination, all the yarioas secti
12*
274
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD
Admitting two co-eternal prince and the author of evil, the reformers of author the good pies, of Manicheism gradually modified their system, and endeavf the ancieut Gnostics.
ored,
more or
less,
to harmonize
it
As
and
fifth
centuries, the
Roman
emperors had resorted to rigorous measures to exterminate these sects, whose secret assembhes and odious principles
disturbed authority and revolted
all
honest hearts.
They
succeeded only in compelling them to silence, and the world Beemed to bb rid of them, when, about the year 660, a woman, intoxicated with the Manichean errors, strove to
Her son Paul gave himself out as the apostle of a purified Christianity ; and beginning by a rupture with the Catholic hierarchy, he dogmatized without mission,
revive them.
and sought
m the
faith,
exclusive of tradition.
His
worthy
whom we are about to speak, the fathers of the Waldenses and Albigenses, and precursors of the heretics of the sixteenth century, would have no
ancestors of the heresiarchs of
rehgion but according to the written text of the Gospel, and subjected that text to the free interpretation of their
own jadgment,
which, in their opinion, was always enlightened by the Holy Spirit. Consistently with these prmciples,
we shall see hereafter, the dogmas and mysteries which their reason could not comprehend ; and when the hteral sense of Scripture too positively contradicted their arbitrary interpretations, they took refuge in the vast labyrinths of figure and allegory.
In the nmth century these sectaries, exasperated by the severity with which they had been treated, md emboldened
by
2T5
hostility against all govern* Their conduct agreed logically with their principles ; emancipated from all authority in the spiritual order, they
mind
I*
off also the yoke of temporal be the progress of the human Asia was overwhelmed for more than thirty years
Such
will ever
by the consequences of these insurrections and the numerous sects of Manicheism lived on in spite of obstacles, through
;
horrible persecutions,
where they formed, here and there, associations, the avowed object of which was the reformation of Church and State.
The degeneracy of a vast portion of the clergy, the ignorance of the people, and the depravity of morals, were the principal causes which favored the success of these sectaries.
All the elements of passion and
false principle
which time
self-interest
had
multiplied,
and which
political circumstances
;
had
it
and
Church.
An
infinite
number of
sects, differing in
name and
doctrine, were united in one common hatred against Catholicism and the barrier once passed they stopped short at
;
no audacious extravagance, either in doctrine or morals. Rationalism alone was in itself a sufficient calamity to the
Church, but the concurrence of so
error
require a
many
other causes of
Christianity,
and to
superhuman power to
resist it
But He who watches over the Church, and has promised her His eternal aid, did not leave her now without the help
she needed.
St.
M. Guizot, in one of his lectnreB, has this remarkable expression : is to call things by their right name, an insurrection of tha hunuin mind against absolute power in the spiritual order." It would,
" Refonn
276
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Let us nol
fire,
him
fight.
He
with.
mode
of theological instruc-
Peter de Bruys and the monk Henry stirred up the people against the Holy See ; Herbert and Tanchelm forbade
marriage, and denied the efficacy of the sacraments; the Cathari or Puritans rejected the Old Testament, and the
writmgs of the ancient Fathers Arnold of Brescia, more vehement than all, insisted on the abolition of the ecclesias;
tical
Christ
hierarchy ; Eon de I'Etoile passed himself off for Jesus a host of other sects, surpassing each other in ;
extravagance, preached everywhere openly the downfall of Catholicism. Nothing less than the might of St. Bernard
this inundation.
CHAPTER
XXYIII.
Peter Abelard, a man as extraordinary for the splendor romance of his life the father of the sophistry of the middle age, and the patriarch of modern
rationalism
seems
by one of the writers of our day "Abelard is in theology what he is ha philosophy ^neither quite heretical nor quite
orthodox
The
flie
by
himself,
and
history of his doctrines, controverted by St. Bernard, form the great episode of the twelfth century an ejHsode
PETER iBELABO
271
now become
icience
in the world,
and which
for six
There
of
together
more common in the spectacle to see reason and passion go astray and in this point of view, the adventures of
doubtless, nothing
Abelard and Heloise would not assuredly have been found worthy of the notice of history. But when a man thus enslaved
by passion has been justly proclaimed the profoundest thinker of his age ; when this man declares himself the
apostle of human reason, and affects to lay the foundations of faith thereupon, it may be well to consider the solidity of
such a basis, and to try it by the tests of practical life. The speculative powers of the human mind, compared with its
weaknesses, present one of those significant lessons which
ought not to escape the wisdom of the world Abelard was bom in 1079, at Palais, near Nantes, in It is said, that with a presentiment of his future Brittany.
I
eloquence, his parents gave him a name borrowed from that of the bee (abeilU). He seemed to justify this augury.
His easy elocution, joined to a marvellous subtilty of intellect, and an erudition which rendered him familiar with both sacred and profane authors, gave him the first place
among
The
exter-
power of
his figure
was
tall, his
ing high and noble, his countenance manly and pleasing. He had studied successively under two famous masters
Roscelin,
realist.
Champeaux, the
many
limits,
The explanation of these two systems, with their shades of difference, would hardly fall within our and would form, besides, but a monotonous picture
which distinguished
filled
278
the middle age.
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
that
is
and permanent existence of the ideals, which correspond to them. Nominalism^ on the contrary, following in the
track of Afistotle, and confoundmg ideas with abstract notions, denied the existence of ideals, and declared that
they were only words.* The question, reduced to its most simple form, was then to ascertain whether invisible things,
This question,
it will
be seen,
not insignificant
it
it
raises the
most
difficult
problem of
philosophy,
solution,
when
the whole of religion, and from its carried to the farthest term, will result either
affects
It is true that the consequences spuitualism or materialism. of this problem are not always carried to their utmost extent ; its terms vary with time, and according to various
turns of mind
but
it
will
which the investigations of human science revolve. Thus, it was neither with Roscelin, nor William of Champagne,
Its origm that this controversy, properly speakmg, began. was in the very cradle of the human race ; its root in the
heart of fallen
man
and
it
The
;
saying
he wants to know
your story
is
your
mmd
he seeks truth.
He
is,
therefore, a philosois
pher
and
the same,
agitated,
when
was
9d ideam dt id&it.^^
fHoanda prater
PETER ABELARD.
279
Solomon and the Academy, between St. Paul and the Areopagus, between the realists and nominalists, between the
science which proceeds
by God, between the rationalistic philosophy, which sets out from below to ascend on high, and the Divine philosophy,
which descends from on high to illuminate things below. Philosophers, in all ages, have taken part in this dispute,
all continue the discussion, notwithstanding the solution of the problem, given eighteen centuries ago, by the sub" limest of teachers. look not at the thmgs which are " but at the things which are not seen. seen," says St. Paul, For the things which are seen are temporal ; but the things
and
We
Cor.
iv.
18.
the basis of Christian philosophy ; and that tends to shake it is, consequently, heterodox. everything But it requires the submission of men to the Divine Word ;
and against
this,
The fundamental
difference
the pride of science has always revolted. which separates the two philoso-
phical schools is, however, easily discerned ; and if this were the place for such a discussion, we could point out the same
difference in all the branches of science
politics, legislatioi, in all
and
art, in morals,
orders of things ; for all the productions of man, as well as man himself, may be considered
as reflections of heaven, or
phenomena of
earth.
But our
present subject permits us only to show the decisive part taken by Abelard in this memorable debate, and the move-
ment which he gave to it. Abelard having been matured both in the Platonic doctrines of William de Champeaux, and the peripatetic teaching of Roscelin, undertook, after having controverted both his masters, to conciliate their opposite doctrines, and to
amalgamate them, so to speak, into a kind of intermediate This attempt seemed opportune and desirable, for theory. confusion reigned on all sides. The realists and nominalisti
80
msroRT of
st.
Bernard.
The
first
sight of the idea, which, in fact, of the amid vanity disputation ; the second, playing escapes artificial abstractions of the the confounded words, upon mind with trae and natural notions. Both were, at the
Bame
time, right and wrong, according to the different points If Abelard had clearly of sight which they had taken. and lucidly distinguished notions from ideas ; if, in his doc-
trine
exists
of notions, he
difference
which
idea,
and
those which are only generalizations, elaborations more or less arbitrary of our own, he might have brought the doctors,
not the doctrines, in accordance ; and, without trenchmg upon truths of a higher order, he might have concluded the realism of natural notions and the nominalism
if
of
artificial
notions.*
But
this
his
intermediary system, called (xmcepttLolism, was but a new baseless opinion offered to the polemics of the middle age. Abelard, like most of the philosophers of his day, admitted
but one kind of notions, and taught, with an apparent irony, that they were neither things nor words. What are they
then
?
realists at once.
Abelard
He said that notions were replied by words, not by things. in forms of our reason : a soluthe conceptions existing only
call those natural notions which correspond to the natural order of things, and are spontaneously formed in our mind as the notions of horse, tree, <fec., general terms, all the characters of a genus, or generality of individuals. Artificial notiong, on the con-
We
which have no type in things above or things below ; classiflactions of certain modern sciences, which subsist only in nomenclatures, and constitute a mere nominalism more
trary, are those
or less arbitrary : thus, in botany, for example, there is a certain claas of monocotyledons which comprehends at once the lily, the palm, th
asparagus, &c. ; the family of cats, in zoology, comprehends the lion, the panther, the leopard, <fcc. These, if ever there were such, are
t^^icUl notions.
FffTEK ABZLARD.
281
a nommalist, and he it is who, by his talent and fonn which he gave to the system of Aristotle, the new made the science of words to prevail over the science of
Abelard
is
Thus, without shrmking from any of the necessary consequences of nominalism, he made the art of reasoning the great pivot of philosophy ; reduced the search after
things.
mechanics appUed to science ^by means of which he aimed at the construction of a general system of human
skill
a kind of
rational-
knowledge. He did more; not content with mamtaming the prmciples of Roscelm, and bringing them into fashion, under a new name, he introduced them into the domain of
theology, and undertook to explain the dogmas of faith by the mere force of logic. In the system of Abelard faith
was but an
is
estimation {astirnatio
is
the
to say, a provisional opinion ; and it reason to justify this opinion, and prove
discussing
all
truth.
Thus,
Scripture and the Fathers, for or against (sic et non) all theological questions, he reduced matters of faith to problems,
in order to resolve
them by
syllogisms,
with a logical sanction. This attempt, conducted with consummate ability, roused all orthodox theologians, and espeAll affirmed the Divine cially St. Bernard, against him.
objects of faith to be above
ments of reason
eolations
and they maintained that rationalistic added nothing to the sanction which the Divine
;
Word
bears within
We
discussions,
how
matters so
could possibly move so arduous, draw so and together many disciples ? For many minds, writers that an iiKjredible number ff testify conteniporaiy
especially in philosophy,
282
hearers
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
of
all
countries,
ages,
and ranks
^foEowed
th
celebrated professor, and hung enraptured on his teaching ; thousands of scholars followed him successively to Melun,
Corbeil, St. Victor de Paris, St. Denis, into the faubourgs, No difficulty the deserts, and mountain of St. Genevieve.* could stop them ; the hosteMes could hardly contain them.
It
hear him
was not only the inhabitants of Paris who crowded to a number of English, Romans, Italians, Germans, ; Swedes, and Danes, were among the number, many of them
of the highest consideration, all fascinated by the teach Whence arose this popularity ? ing of the audacious master. How came questions of subtle dialectics to excite so general
men
a sympathy, so passionate an enthusiasm ? The riddle is not hard to read it is explained by the propensities of human
;
nature.
his age he represented one of the features of his century the spirit of indepen dence which, under various forms, was working in the
Abelard
desu'ed progress by means of human power ; St. Bernard desu-ed it by means of the power of God. It was opening
an attractive way to the presumption of science to dispense with beheving before understanding; and human pride found satisfaction in calling the dogmas of religion before
the tribunal of
It
is
human
true that Abelard always professed a sincere respect for the Church, and counterbalanced the fatal consequences
of his method by a lively and docile faith his errors were rather in his language than his mind ; and the heterodox
:
propositions which he gave forth sprang less from his personal opinions than his logical deductions. Thus, he haj
Inclosures raised
The mountain of St. Genevieve was not then included within th by Louis le Gros around the faubourgs of Paria. It b curioua to read the details of the immense popularity of Abelaii's iMioTM. See hi own history.
PITSX AB2LARD.
been accused of
all
288
and justified upon eyery fault was the applibut his inexcusable ; cation of the principles of free examination to dogmatic
heresies at once,
point in particular
truths.
It
was
this which,
whether he was
consciojis of it
or not, constituted both the charm and the danger of his Abelard, by applying such a test to theology, teaching.
its first down the principle of rationalism, which, development, exercised the same kmd of fascination over he impassioned multitude, which was produced three centuries later by Protestantism, and which hberalism has
laid
renewed
in
The
spirit of
whatever name
it appears, will always excite the sympathies of our fallen nature ; and every doctrine which favors the
triumph of self-wOl over divine authority (a doctrine following from the first word of independence which perverted
man
Abelard was at the height of his renown, and his doctrine spreading wider and wider, when he struck upon two rocks which stood in the midst of his gigantic career ^he fell upon
one,
by
its
;
weight.
deprived him
name
Bernard
CHAPTER XXIX.
CONTINUATION OF
f HK PRECEDINO CHAPTER-CONTEST OF ST. BEBNARD WITH ABELARDCOUNCIL OP SENSCONVERSION AND EDIFTING DEATH OP ABELARD.
284
msroBT or
sr.
bzrkabd.
Trinity,
book on the
which
he had composed according to the rules of Aristotle, and which contained maidfest errors. He submitted to the sentence,
his
work
he had introduced into theological instruction made him On one side, the constantly waver and fall into new errors.
boldness of his method, and the unhesitating way in which he applied it to the solution of the most abstruse questions,
continually
his
old auditors,
and demanded
He
spirit
left it
would not
was a professed monk of St. Denis but his restless He suffer him to remain in that monastery. to settle in the diocese of Troyes, where the generosity
;
which was soon peopled by his numerous disciples. He built an oratory there, to which he gave the name of the Paraclete and there, surrounded by young men, who flocked
;
all parts of France, he discoursed upon the nature of God, on the mysteries of man, and on all questions of morals and metaphysics, like the Stagyrite of old in the gardens of Academus. Great was the exulting joy of
to
him from
his success ; he expresses it with " While my body," great sincerity in one of his letters : " is fame carries my name to confined this place, says he,
all
many
But
this
last long.
Church,
trines,
Already had St. Bernard, the watchful sentinel of the who had long observed the tendency of the new doc-
pointed it out to the bishops, and uttered a cry of Abelard eluded by subterfuges the remonstrancea warning. of the powerful Abbot of Clairvaux j and, to escape th
HIS GONTIST
Wrm
IBILAIO.
285
liorm which threatened him, he abandoned his position at the Paraclete, and accepted the Abbey of St Gildas, which
in Brittany.
It
is
another kind also impelled him to this sacrifice. The nuns of the Convent of Argenteuil had been dispersed, and the
unfortunate Heloise was without a shelter.
tated not a
Abelard
hesi-
he offered her the Paraclete, and she herself there with several of her comwent to estabhsh
moment
panions.
The Bishop of Troyes ratified this donation, and II. conferred on Heloise the title of abbess Innocent Pope of the new community.
Abelard languished at St. Gildas, and though sick in body and constantly devoured by tumultuous passions, he
to appear again in the world, and also to return to the neighborhood of the Paraclete, whither he waa
was impatient
He had
Abelard, accordmg to the account of Geoffrey of Auxerre, seemed touched by the Christian conduct of the holy Abbot
but of Clairvaux, and promised him to modify his doctrines new writings, some of which were secretly circulated in the
;
schools,
behed
this promise,
He also changed his tone towards Bercity than before. nard ; and, emboldened by the zeal of his disciples, comin his turn, and accused him of calumny. plained of It was then that the servant of God broke silence, and
Mm
pursued the innovator with his invincible energy. The letters which he addressed to the bishops, the cardmals, and
the
Pope
and deserve to be
:
pre-
served "
much beloved
father.
288
"
the
It
is
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD
to you, most holj father, that we must turn when kmgdom of God is in danger, or suffers any scandal,
especially in
faith.
This
is
it
the privilege
of the Apostolic See, since to Peter alone kave prayed far thee that thy faith fail not.
then, of the successor of St. Peter,
was
'
said,
We
must claim,
'
When
Now
this is
and to do
now, in his old age, gives forth to us his reveries on Holy Scripture who, accounting himself to be ignorant of nothmg which is in heaven or on earth, decides all ques;
who, ready to give a reason for everything, pretends, against all the rules of faith, and of reason itself, to explain even that which is above reason.
tions without hesitation
;
This
is
*
man
wise
the sense which he gives to these words of the wise He who believes lightly is a fooU He says, that to
;
believe lightly
is to put faith before reasoning although the speaking not of the faith we owe to God, but of the too easy credence we give to the words of men. After
man
is
Pope Gregory taught that Divine faith loses all merit it is based upon human reason. Mary is praised because she prevented reason by faith Zachary is punished for having sought in reason for a support to faith. Our
all.
when
In the very first lines theologian speaks quite differently. of his extravagant theology, he defines faith to be an opinion {mtimntio) as if the mysteries of our faith depended
;
upon human reason, instead of being supported, as they are, on the immutable foundations of truth What do you propose to me as doubtful that which is of all things most
I
!
certain ?
St.
'
Faith,' said
JST
he,
is
it
is
Let
problem-
opmions to the peripatetic philosophers who make a rule to doubt of everything, and who, in fact, know no-
ihing.
But
*
let
Gentiles.
the things
i^ixiM,'
'
is the
foundation of
[t
is,
we hope for and a certain proof of those we see not.^ not a deducthen, a foundation, and not an opinion
tion of
it is
mation."
In another
letter,
Roman
tt^ety
" with I have seen," says he, my own eyes, what I had before heard of the books and teaching of Peter Abelard. I have weighed his expressions, and discovered the pernicious "
This corrupter of the faithful, contagious spirit, skilful to mislead simple souls, pretends to subject that to his reason, which can only be laid hold of by a lively and docile faith. The true believer beheves withthis
out arguments ; but this innovator, not content with having God for the guarantee of his faith, must needs call in his
own
*
Unhke
Unless you
you
the faith which comes from the heart of hghtness, perverting that passage of Solomon which says, He who believes lightly
'
Abelard," he writes again to Pope Innocent, " labors to destroy the merit of faith, and imagines that he can comprehend, by his own thought, all that God is. He
"
mounts up to heaven, he descends into the abyss there is nothing above or below which can escape his knowledge.
;
He
is
man
great in his
own
288
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Itself, inflated with his own wisdom, intruding himself into the secrets of God, and forging heresies for us," " " the writmgs I send you," said he to Cardinal Gregory,
of Peter Abelard, that you may know the spirit of this doctor. You see that like Arius, he mtroduces degrees into
the Trmity
like Pelagius,
What, then after from lion's must the we not beware of jaw,* haviag escaped the poisonous breath of the dragon ? The first could not carry his rage beyond the tomb the last will perpetuate
like Nestorius,
;
The persevering activity displayed by St. Bernard soon arrested the rationalistic doctor in his successful course.
in
good
faith,
and
full
of confidence
orthodoxy, and who relied also on the number and influence of his friends, protested against the accusations
of the
Abbot
In the same year, 1140, on the octave of Pentecost, a great assembly of bishops and theologians was to meet in
the town of Sens.
metropolitan
to
see, to declare
Abelard wrote to the archbishop of that that he was ready to justify his
summon
the
Abbot
by a pubhc discussion, to the unjust accusations by which he was pursued. The archbishop desired nothing better than
to submit the questions in debate to the judgment of the council ; and St. Bernard was invited to go thither to meet
Abelard; but, at
first,
he excused
himself.
"The Arch-
" sends for me, who am bishop of Sens," he wrote to Rome, the least of all, to fight, hand to hand, with Abelard ; and
tie
fixes
a day on which
*
this doctor is to
mamtain, befort
An alliision to the
289
foe assembly of bishops, the unpious assertions against which I have ventured to raise my voice. I declme to appear
there, because, in
good
truth, I
am
but a child
;
because
my
the
adversary
is
a veteran
m this warfare
subtleties of
human reasomngs
authority of the faith founded upon truth itself. Therefore, I reply, that he needs no other accuser than his own writings.
who
versy between the two most celebrated personages of the tune, excited the most extraordmary interest throughout It was to be, in fact, a passage at arms, not only France.
but between the leaders of two schools which personified the two contrary tendencies of their age ; the one representing
the principle of Divine authority, the other proclauning the pre-eminence of human reason ; both combating in the cause
of
God
one,
science of earth.
spectacle.
by the wisdom of heaven ; the other, by the Such a conflict promised an extraordinary The king himself and the nobles of the court deit
;
sired to witness
most
to Sens, and jomed the prelates and fathers of the council within the sacred precincts.
Let us hear
St.
Bernard's
own account
obliged to yield to the entreaties of my friends. They saw, in fact, that every one was preparing for this conference as for a kind of public spectacle, and they feared
lest
"I was
my absence should
eyes,
without any
:
290
'
HISTORY or
not meditate heforehand
ST.
BERNARD.
Do
he
what you shall answer ; it shaQ and those other words, Tkt
*
Lord
the
.iah,
is my helper, what shall I fear V "f " It was with these arms," says a pious chronicler, "that
to battle against
Abelard
that Go-
sheathed in the heavy arnior of human science, and loaded with the formidable apparel of scholastic arguments.*'
gust assembly
The two champions presented themselves before the auall eyes were fixed upon them. The papers
;
;
were produced, the heads of accusation enumerated then was a mournful silence the councU waited till Abelard
;
should clear hunself, and defend his doctrines. he tries to speak, and words But, O confusion
I
he
of
is
struck
dumb
not pursue his advantage he refuses to trample an already vanquished enemy he simply points out upon the most glaring errors in the writings of Abelard, and
;
God will
leaves
But
last,
At
left the council, declarmg that he appealed to the Pope. This unexpected issue struck all minds with deep amazement. The judgment of God Himself seemed to dictate the
he
Thus, notwithstanding his appeal was pronounced unaniAbelard's condemnation Rome, " Bernard with David I have cried St. seen," mously. " I have seen the impious exalted Hke the cedar of Lebanon ; I passed by, and he was no more." But this splendid
monk
of Clairvaux,
drew from hun deep sighs over the miseries of human life ; and, in a letter to the Pope, which we would gladly tranicribe entire,
"
It
is
he expresses himself this touchmg manner : necessary that scandals come ; but it is a very sad
]Iaftt.z.lft.
t
Pialm oxTiL
COITYSSSION OF IBKLARD.
'
291
This the prophet exclaims, JVho will give im wings of a dove that I inay fly awa/y and be at rest V I would be out of the world, so crushed and overwhelmed am I hoped for some repose Fool that I was I with sorrow. after the fury of the lion had been tamed, and the Church
necessity.
tht
I
restored to peace.
it not.
She, indeed, enjoys peace, but I enjoy I remember not that I inhabit a valley of tears, a
briers and thorns, which grow barren land, fruitful only up as fast as they are cut down. Alas, charity grows cold, and miquity abounds daily more and more." The acts of
Rome, and Innocent, after macensured propositions, confirmed the turely examining the their author to eternal of and condemned Sens, judgment
the council were referred to
silence.
He
;
might,
by an humble submission to the authority of the Church, write his name for all eternity in the book of life or, by a
those haughty spirits who proud Grace imitate the old rebellion of the prince of darkness.
resistance, enroll
it
among
a new
feeling,
an emo*
gigantic
mind
light of the
Holy
Spirit
descended mto the depths of his soul. Abelard published an apology, of which we subjoin a few
fragments "
:
To
all
all.
the children of
least of
"It is a common maxim, that the best things may be and thus, according to the account of St. Jecorrupted In rome, to write many books, is to attract many censors.
;
comparison with the works of others, mine are of httle tount ; yet I have not escaped criticism ; though in
ao-
my
192
books,
HISTORT OF
ST.
BEBNARD.
faults,
God
my
there they be fomid. Perhaps I have erred in writing certain things otherwise than I should have
to defend them,
done
of
but I
call
God
to witness,
who judges
the thoughts
my
I have spoken much, in different pubhc schools, and I have never given my instructions as hidden bread or stolen waters. If, in the multitude of my words, some danverse wUl.
gerous assertions have glided in, according as it is written, that in much speaking we cannot avoid sin,' the care of
'
me
into heresy;
Such are
my
any others."
This act was but the
first
He
had intended
to
go to
Rome,
Abbot
of Cluny.
He
his
which had
thmgs of
earth, to
Peter of Cluny, whose tender and had greatly contributed to the work of this conversion, brought Abelard to St. Bernard, and set the seal to his evangelical mediation, by reconciling these two
St. Paul, in heaven.
delicate charity
great men,
tion
proofs of affec-
which reliAbelard, happy " gion had restored to him, lived two years longer, during " which," says the chronicle of Cluny, somethmg divine apin the peace
and esteem.
spirit, his
Death
RATIONALISM IN POLITICS.
29S
found him prepared, by his deep and salutary penitence ; for of this life, ever humility, ever victorious in the struggles
efficacious in healing the
evils
wounds of the heart, had at last which his exaltation had brought
upon hun.*
CHAPTER XXX.
APPLICATION OP THE DOCTRINES OP RATIONALISM TO ARNOLD OP BRESCIAREVOLUTION AT ROME.
It
is
POLITICfit-
that every new idea, deposited in the human mind, manifests itself sooner or later, like the seeds of the earth, by good or
and the thoughtful man, who contemplates his may, by a penetrating glance at the germs contained in its predommant idea, foresee and foretell such events
evil fruit
;
own
times,
as, in
a more or
in
all
less distant
futurity, will
life.
be successively
This foresight,
seer^
produced
when exalted
or prophet ; God illuminates his mterior sight, and discovers to him, within the bosom of a principle, the series of conse-
quences which
their time.
it
contains,
and which
will
be manifested
in
its necessary consequences may be perceived by the unassisted sight of the intellect ; and reason herself, by the help of a strictly logical process, becomes
a philosophical system,
capable of foreseeing the positive results and distant appliAbelard died the 2l8t April, 1142, at the age of sixty-three.
His
body was removed, by the care of the Abbot of Cluny, to the Paraclete, where Heloise herself was buried, the 17th May, 1164. The united remains of these two celebrated persons underwent several removals , and the vicissitudes of their lives seemed to be prolonged after their deaths. Their remains were brought to Paris in 1800, and they now npose in the am tomb, in the cemstery of F^e la ChaiM.
94
cations which
mSTOET OF
ST.
BERNARD.
must spring from it. It was thus that St Bernard, endowed at once with the prophetic vision and the ^ift of human foresight, protested, from the first, against the doctrines of Abelard, and predicted, with a confidence
sies
which seemed exaggerated from its very intensity, the here* and revolutions which they should bring forth in ages to
come.
Some
reproached
him
later centuries,
and
especially our
own, have accused him of having attacked Abelard with a bitterness unworthy of a noble and holy soul ; but history
has justified his conduct
lot of those
;
and, besides,
is it
not the
common
the mountain, to be misunderstood and misconstrued by those who sleep in the shadow of the valley below ?
Between the
and the
elapsed
principles
;
which gave them birth, no long interval and the condemnation of Abelard was hardly
disciples,
already began to introduce, into political questions, the method of free inquiry, which he had brought from the do-
main of philosophy into that of rehgion rationalism, both theoretical and practical, offered a strange fascination to
;
principles of science
spirit of
faith,
it cast a doubt upon the had already done upon the and, at the same moment that the
;
an analogous movement appeared in politics, and It threatened to shake the very foundations of society. was at Rome itself, around the loftiest seat of human
first
put in agitation.
Men
of influence, though as yet few in number, claimed for reason the right to do, in poUtics, what she had attempted
in religion
J^
and, playing upon the passions of the multitude, ; they exalted liberty at the expense of power. From Rome^
RATIONALISM IN POLHICS.
this spirit of
295
most of the
France.
of Germany, and into many provinces oi It was a sort of universal revolution, arising from
one single impulse, which, doubtless, in the designs of Providence, was to have developed itself according to the slow and regular course of events but which, pushed beyond all
;
bounds, and separated from the eternal principles of order and duration, threatened to miss its end, by a violent and
premature
it
birth.
The era of
poUtical liberty
had begun
could not be, it ought not to have been, repressed ; but the Church, the heavenly guide of nations, would have The great directed its impulse, and determined its limits.
France
movement towards
Uberty,
when
it
it,
unity and under the influence of authority ; they opposed on the other hand, when the self-impelled activity of man, impatient of the delays of Providence, anticipated the maturity of nations,
and claimed the exercise of new rights by The moment was critical,
The
and
lib-
erty was to be consecrated without overturning authority. This was the delicate problem which, in theory as well as
practice,
monopolized the thought of that century, and which events were now to resolve. At Rome, more than
anywhere
else,
the
mmds
of
men were prepared to carry out The wars of Italy, the long
struggle between the papacy and the empire, the schism which, even after its extinction, still lived on in the minds
of
men
all
waitmg
arms,
make them
effervesce.
Political questions,
fate of
to resolve them.
^96
HISTOBT OF
ST.
BEB2CABD.
was Arnold of Brescia, a zealous follower of the theories of Abelard, who gave birth to the political rationalism, whose
principles again agitated the
and took a
distinct form,
the nineteench.
Modern
history
the
is,
part played
by Arnold
but he
nevertheless,
Abelard
out to
and, being passionately given to logic, carried it extremest consequences. Arnold of Brescia was a monk, whose origin and early
;
its
history are
unknown
and obstinate
will,
he nourished an unbounded pride under the appearance of austere piety. The vices of his age hardened his heart ;
the condemnation of his master sharpened his zeal
passion,
; rancor, of opposition, kindled his eloquence. Like another Oza, he attempted to support the Church with " his feeble hand ; because, as Holy Scripture the says,
the
spirit
oxen which drew the ark of the Lord kicked, and made
lean aside.'^
it
abuses
did not confine himself to pomting out he took in hand to prosecute and stigmatize them ;
He
and to
this
against riches
to pluck
end he excited the animosity of the people and power. Like those imprudent laborers,
up the good grain with the cockle, in order to clear the ground of the householder ; and, rather than let alone a single abuse, he attacked the most sacred institutions to
which
might be attached in short, his idea ^beautiful, indeed, in theory, but impracticable, and, therefore, senseless ^was to restore the Church to its prunitive state, to the
it
;
conditions and proportions, that is, of its infancy : and to that end he wanted to make a level ground, to overthrow
ARNOLD OF BRESOIA.
297
to
plan of its first commencement ; in short, ignoring all the laws of progress, and the steps ah-eady made ; endeavoring, as it were, to force the tree back into its germ, he preached
a reform of
discipline
This cing the Church in the swathing bands of infancy. failed not to with meet fate of all the attempt premature
revolutions.
ful disorders.
It failed
but not
till
it
had produced
fright-
try
Arnold preached, at first, in his own counhe demanded that the clergy should be reduced to
poverty, that the bishops should not be allowed to have lands, that the Pope himself should renounce his possessions
and
his
temporal sovereignty.
The
first effect
of this theory
was a
the provmce. Arnold took refuge at Rome, and there found a wider sphere for the dissemination of his principles He declaimed agamst the vices and luxury of the clergy,
against the degradation of the pontificate, against the cupidity of the great, to which he attributed the enthralment of
the people.
tle
Paul, the names of Cato, Fabius, and the Fathers of the Church ; he reminded the Romans of their ancient liberty,
the glories of the republic, the dignity of old Rome. By dint of flattering men's passions, he succeeded in forming a
numerous party ; but, being sought after, by command of the Pope, he was obliged, to escape pursuit, to leave Italy ;
and sowmg, on the way, the fatal seeds of his doctrines, ht traversed France and Switzerland, and at last settled at
Zurich,
where he remained a long time in full security while the episcopate seemed tranquil as to the ulterior But, enterprises of Arnold, there was one man who, from the
depths of his solitude, uttered a cry of alarm.
That man
498
HISTORY OF
St.
ST.
BERNARD
not," wrote he
was
Bernard.
"
Know you
'
to the
in
Bishop of Constance,
come
by
night, not into your house, but into the house of the Lord,
of which you are the guardian ? Is it possible that you do not know what is passing close to you, when the noise of it has spread even to us, who are so far distant ? Do you still
doubt of
whom
I speak ?
were as sound as
not,
He
is
man who
eats
drmks
blood
of souls : he is of the number of those of whom the apostle speaks, who have the form of godliness, without its spirit ; of those, concerning whom the Lord Hunself said : They
*
shall come to
you in sheep's clothing ; hut inwardly they art Wheresoever this man hath dwelt, he ravening wolvesj^ hath left such frightful traces of his sojourning that he hath
appear there again. His own country, agitated by his presence, has been constrained to banish Exiled from France, he maintains, among your peohim. the errors of Abelard, with a heat and an obstinacy ple,
never dared to
Alas I if Holy Scripture Burpassing that of his master. would have us take the little foxes, which waste the vineyard
*
of
the
we
to bind
and chain a
cruel
Abbot
in which the authority of the of Clairvaux was held, put an end to the preachings at Zurich ; but the mnovator, persecuted in Switzerland,
This
letter,
found a secure asylum with the papal legate himself, who had been, like Arnold, one of the hearers of Abelard. It
was
St.
to disturb
Bernard again who, by his energetic warnings, came him in this new retreat. He addressed the apos*
and without preamble. "Arnold of " he is a man of a sweet and seductive coi Brescia," writes,
tolic legate directly,
llAtt.viii.16.
tCantiLU.
REVOLUTION IN ROME.
rersatioD, but his doctrine is poisonous
299
he has the head of
of a scorpion a monster produced, oi rather vomited forth, by the town of Brescia ; which Romt
tail
and
it
is
said that
lest
How 1 do you not see, in every place he his passed by, the fatal traces of his passage ? Was it without a reason that the Holy See compelled him to fly beyond the Alps ?
To
protect such a
man
is
rather, to
God
himself."
The
Arnold
severe and active vigilance of St. Bernard pursued But while he escaped into all his hiding places.
his doc-
trines, repeated by numberless echoes, reverberated on all sides, and produced a vehement effervescence, especially at
Tivoli were, at this tune, carrying on a furious contest ; then* mutual rivalry had reached such a point of exasperation in the strife, that the Pope
himself, after
having defeated those of TivoU, was obliged to defend them against the fury of the Romans, to avert a general massacre, and prevent the town from being sacked.
The clemency
tude
occasion to an insurrection.
At
fell upon the ancient capital ; and forgetting that they retamed nothmg of the old Romans but their degenerate name, they leagued together, and swore to re-establish the
They began by forming a senatea body which had disappeared from the city since the tune of
ancient republic.
they invested it with the government of all ; temporal matters, leaving to the Pope the care of things This sudden revolution was not effected apiritual aJoue.
Charlemagne
80C
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
without bloodshed
the people, emboldened by their triin their outbreaks, stained the first
by murder and
pillage
several
buildings were pulled down ; a cardinal was killed in the street. Innocent II., already far advanced in years, and
had met the popbut consumed by now, by his sorrows aggravated by these pubhc calamities, he
toils
of the Pontificate,
;
conciliation alone
1143.
Pontiff,
Lucius
II.,
which he displayed against the excesses of his frantic people.* These sinister events gave fresh anxiety to St. Bernard, and redoubled the energy with which he consecrated all his
his life for the zeal
He
viewed Arnold
recommended that he should be imprisoned, and so prevented from fanning the flame which he had lighted.
"
Alas
I"
cried he,
"
is
to do this
good
office
But Arnold,
issu-
ing forth from the darkness in which St. Bernard's vigilance had forced hun to hide, went secretly to Rome, and showing
himself unexpectedly in the midst of the people, whose idol he was, he rekmdled, by his burnmg words, the passions of
Baronius relates that this Pope was killed by a stone, in an insurrection.
t It was on this occasion that St. Bernard wrote his epistle to the Eomans, in which he said to them, among other things: "In th time of your fathers, the universe was subject to you and now yon make your city the laughing-stock of the universe. Cardinals, bishops, sacred ministers have, by your hands, been driven out of the oitVi Bd despoiled of their goods," dec.
;
hifx
own
plans.
He
and personally directed the execution of his caused a patrician to be nominated from
senators to administer public affairs ; revived the ancient forms, the republican laws and functions, and parodied, as far as possible, the institutions of ancient Rome
among the
Roman
knights,
and
rebuilt the
Capitol
as
if
the mere
name of that
illustrious ruin
could
and majesty of
Rome
The presence of
It
Arnold had
lent
was
principally directed against the temporal sovereignty of the Holv See ; but that sovereignty was a necessary auxil-
fact too
too inherent in the manners, the beUef, the necessithe institutions of Christendom to be seriously con;
tested
and
it
to
attack the
double power which held people and kings in equilibrium, and, at the same time, presided over the religious unity and
the civilization of the world.
Thus, this attempt, like all others of the kind, could not escape that kind of reprobation from God which seems to strike with unpotence every enterprise whose aim is to shake the supreme dignity of the See
of St, Peter.
revolution of Arnold, thus wrought out of the order of Providence, could have neither duration nor consistency ; and, as usually happens, those who had embraced it with
'""^j
(
The
with
it,
and
became
its
first
victims.
The populace
;
ransacking the eternal city in seeing things sacred and profane involved in the same do. itruction. Zeal began gradually to cool ; and before the
arrival of Conrad,
rius,
who had
the gates of Rome were thrown open to the Sovereign Pontiff, and the reins of government replaced in his handi
802
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERKIRD
the year 1146, this short but bloody revolution ^aa But the troubles consequent upon it, and the appeased.
By
spirit
The new
from which they arose, were propagated far and wide. doctrines had disenchanted those only who had ex-
perienced theu* sad results ; they still numbered many partisans who persisted in regarding them as the purest dictates of reason.
abandon
Arnold of Brescia withdrew into Tuscany. He did not his projects, but pursued them with a caution
for his own safety required. It was not till ten 1153, years after the seditions in Italy, that the emperor seized him, and brought him prisoner to Home. He was
which regard
condemned
to die
on a
scaffold,
and
suffered his
punishment
before the eyes of a populace, which, having extolled an apostle, exulted at his death
him as
CHAPTER XXXI.
NIW
ANXIETIES OP
ST. BERNARD ON ACCOUNT OF THE ELECTION Of EUGENIDS ni.BOOK OF THE CONSIDERATION.
X_
The Holy
Spirit,
who watches
all
human
testifies,
by a
visi-
ble interposition.
His never-ceasing
aid.
It
is
especially in
the choice of the Sovereign Pontiffs that this supernatural intervention is sometimes manifested in a most marvellous
manner
tremity,
and very
often,
when thmgs
gone, the
are
come
to
an ex-
and hope
itself is
man
suddenly appears
and accom"
At
the period of
which we write, Christendom was strongly convulsed by schisms, errors, passions, interests, abuses, vices of all kind^
ILECnON OF EUGEinUS
IH.
303
like
an
unclean garment. Her stato was the more critical, as in the midst of the Roman revolution, she had lost three popes in
and thus, while attacked in the very principle ; of her hierarchy, she was also deprived of the visible head which unpersonated that principle, In those dark days, it
succession
i
would seem, humanly speaking, that the head of the Church should have been a man mighty iu word and deed, a splendid
name,
fitted to
one of those
war-chariots, to
But the of iron, to break in pieces mountains and hills. of often comes from the whence Providence quarter ways help
it is least
expected
man, a child, a peasant, without or birth, learning, authority, is oftentimes drawn from the retirement of a cloister to direct nations and march at
name,
all ages is full of these examples ; but that presented by the exaltation of Bugeoius III. is partic-
ularly
remarkable.^ Pope Lucius died on the 25th of February, 1145, at the moment when the populace of Rome, in the intoxication of its triumph, was overthrowing everything that offended it. The senators attempted to dictate the choice of a new
Pontiff
;
the cardmals,
now
the ambition of some of difficulty communicate together them, and the intrigues of some of the most influential,
compUcated the embarrassment. Any delay, however, might endanger a new schism, and rekindle civil and religious war.
At this fatal crisis, a monk of Clairvaux is suddenly informed that the cardinals have unanimously raised him to the chair of St. Peter I This monk belonged fleither to the
^iscopal body nor to the college of cardinals
^he
was tht
304
mSTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD
timid Bernard of Pisa, a disciple of St. Bernard, who had been sent by him, five years before, to Rome to fomid the
Even
this mission
seemed
beyond
to
his
feed the
powers ; for his functions at Clairvaux had been stove, amd make a fire for the religious, who wer
cold after matins, because
benumbed with
their clothing.
of
the scantiness
of
Being placed, then, against his will over the convent of St. Anastasius, he had to suffer so many vexations
false
brother, that he
was
in
danger of becoming, according to his own words, the laughIn his distress he ing stock and derision of the whole city.
had
''
my
he wrote to
you,
away from
my
life
since I have been St. Bernard, has been consumed with sorrow and
"
my days passed sighing. Unhappy that I am I I no longer hear that sweet voice which so deliciously charmed my ears ; I see no more that face so loved and so longed for.
What
overburthened as I
am ?
Suffer me,
reverend father, suffer me to go and seek some repose. Would to God that the world might reject ns, and oblige
us,
by
its
and take
refuge in
It was this monk, so weak and so humble as to be overwhelmed by the charge of a single monastery, who beheld
licity.
himself suddenly raised to the highest pinnacle of Catho" But," says the annahst of Citeaux, "by an extra-
ordinary grace from Hun who had called him to so eminent a station, the Abbot of St. Anastasius experienced a change
like that
which passed upon the apostle whom Jesus Christ chose to be head of the Church for as that apostle, before the effusion, of the Holy Spu'it, had neither wisdom nor
;
on the holy feast of Pentecost, the gifts needful for his high vocation, so the pious abbot a moment, such abundant grace, that he wai
received, in
HI3 ANXIETY
ON ACCO..NT OF EUGENIUS.
305
changed, like the first of the apostles, into a new man ; so that every one was astonished from the very first at the
exalted
wisdom and
Immediately after his election the cardinals came to fetch him from his cell, and led him m all haste to the Lateran
Palace, where, according to the usage of the Apostolic See,
the
the
new Pontiff was acknowledged, and proclaimed under name of Eugenius III.
these unexpected tidings
in an uproar the but accom; Eugenius, panied by the cardinals, quitted the city by night, and reth-ed mto a fortified monastery, where he received episco;
At
Rome was
pal consecration, the 24th of March, of the same year These events had passed so rapidly and spontaneously,
that Christendom remained a long time in amazement ; but when the news reached the desert of Clairvaux, St. Bernard,
struck with astonishment,
felt all
mother.
son
He
of his anxiety, he wrote a ; letter to the cardinals, the disordered style of which ex
and, in the first
presses the various sentunents which agitated his soul.
begins, without preface
:
moment
He
What have you done? You have forgive you back men one who was already in the grave among brought you have embarrassed with cares and business one who
"God
I
and you have compelled him to mingle among men, and to appear upon the stage of the world You have forced him into the first place who
desired neither business nor care
;
and
more
is
perilous
to
first.
You
all in
constrain a man,
;
who
crucified
and
after he
had
chosen to be below
chosen him out to place him above aU you overturned the designs of the poor
Wherefore have
Whence came
it
806
BISTORT OF
ST.
BEBNARD.
and
briers,
way and
seize suddenly
to drag
him from
his cloister,
I
among you
What were there no wise men Was there no one more capable than Eugenius
of the functions of the papacy ? Assuredly it is a thing altogether absurd to take a poor httle man, covered with rags,
and make him the master of princes, bishops, and empires But what do I say when I say it is absurd Is it not
I
I
rather adnurable
? Certamly it is either one or the other I deny it not. I do not reject the thought that this may have been the work of God, who alone doeth wonderful but I fear for our Eugenius for he is very tender things
;
:
and
rather to silence and contemplation than to the management of business ; so that I fear lest he want the quaUties neces-
which you have placed hun. What sary for the high office think you must be the feelings of a man, passing thus, without preparation, from the solitude of the heart and the
secrets of interior prayer, to the tumult of the world, like
5hild
its
mother ?
Alas
fall
;
unless the
and he
will
for his
This letter characterizes, at once, both Bernard and Eugenius. But here is another, addressed to Eugenius himself,
in
humility "
oflFeres
Ms most humble
Pontiff.
"The tidmgs
Attentive to
all
of your elevation have reached this country. that I heard, I delayed to congratulate you,
801
I waited
me
of
it
yourself
tell
me what
come
in good
writing,
had passed
to assuage
iealtkj
my
grief
saying,
But
my
children would
is
amd
am
have begun, I will speak I dare no longer call you my son ; you have to my Lord. You are above me ; been so, but now you are my father
then,
agamst
my will.
since I
but
it
is
through
me
it,
/ have
and
begotten thee
God ; 'A vnse son is the glory of his I shall no more call you my son ; The Lord True, father.^ hath given thee a new name ' The hand of the Most High has
my
by crown before
the Gosjpel;
you are
my
hope,
*
my
joy,
Abram was called Abraham; Jacob, and, to speak only of your predecessors, Sunon was called Peter ; Saul received the name of Paul. Thus, by a change which I presume to be useful to the Church, my son
made
this change.
Israel
Bernard
"
is
father.
After
God
Understand
this
enigma
may God
If you are the give you the knowledge of it. friend of the bridegroom, call not his spouse your princess but the princess. Instead of appropriating to yourself what
is
hers, be ready to give her what is yours ^your own life Shall I be the only one who joys not in your exaltation ? Yes, I do rejoice ; but my joy, I acknowledge it, is tempered
with fear
my
b^art
is
Though I have
and I tremble
I contemplate your elevation, dazzled by the splendor of you at and I shudder the perils which surround you. your dignity, It is the place of St. Peter, of the prince of the apostles, of
am
him
whom
the
SOS
household.
mSTORY OF
His ashes
and
ST.
BERNARD
not his
spirit
his example.
heart disinterested.
He said,
You are set over gold nor silver.^ I will say no more. nations and empires, to pluck up and to destroy, to plant and to build. Yet, remember that you are but man. Lose
not sight of God,
How many
eyes
I
who overthrows the mighty of the earth. popes have died within a short time before our Their reign was very short ; it will be the same with
yours.
Amid
the
pomps of a
;
and bethink you that you will incessantly on your last end soon rejoin in the grave those whose place you now occupy on the apostolic throne."
until
Eugenius went, after his consecratrOfT, to reside at Viterbo, peace should be restored to Rome. He was still there
when he received a deputation from the Bishops of Armenia, who came to submit their differences with the Greeks to his decision. One of these bishops declared before the Roman Court that he had seen, during the celebration of the Holy Sacrifice, two doves, surrounded with light, over the head
of the Pontiff.
In
fact,
the
and energy See, Eugenius whole conduct, that all enmities, as well as all material He offered a needobstacles, melted away before his word.
Holy
in his
ful
occupation to impetuous spuits, by exciting them to undertake a new crusade ; and while he turned European
activity
towards the
east,
he worked
in the
very heart of
Christendom at salutary reforms, and prepared the way for a general renovation. True, Eugenius had St. Bernard
for his
guide
he was
his light
and
it
Pope
The written
Abbot
of Clair
S09
book, known under the name of the ^^Book of Constderalwn ;^ a sublune work, which, placing us with the Pope at the very centre of the edifice of Catholicism, shows us, under every
possible point of view, the
*ts
vast dimensions.
The
idea of this
reformation of the Church, by the development of the internal and quickening powers of the papacy. St. Bernard
understood well
all
Christendom
the very
ciple
bosom of death, he perceived the ever-living prinand indestructible germ of a new and immortal txist
Thus, according to St. Bernard, the celestial healing was to begin and end with the Pope. " Your
ence.
of the Church
with you.
You must
"must begin with you and end then what is consider yourself what is around you lastly, what is
first
;
These four great perspectives embrace, as we see, the whole universe, and they indicate the principal divisions of the work. will cast a glance over them.
We
In the
first
Pope, clearly distinguishes between the man and the Pontiff * What are you ? You are what you were and the dignity with which you have been invested has not stripped you of
;
your nature. You are a man, and though you have been made a bishop, you are still a man. Lift the veil which
envelops you, and you vnll find a man naked, poor, miserable, bom for labor, not for honor ; bom of a woman and
conceived in
sin.
are you?
What
rank do
God ?
5_"You
SIO
;
BISTORT OF
ST.
BERNABD.
Jhe Apostles you have the primacy of Abel, the gOTcnv ment of Noah, the patriarchate of Abraham, the orders of Aaron, the authority of Moses, the jurisdiction of Samuel,
the
he to
power of Peter, the unction of Jesus Christ. You are whom the keys have been given, to whom the sheep
who
There are others who are door-keepers are pastors of flocks but you are
;
both door-keeper and pastor in a far more glorious measure, as you have received this double title in a different manner
from others.
Each
of
flock
but the whole flock together has been committed to your You are pastor, not only of the sheep, but of the care.
pastors;
"Theur authority
others.
is
within
certain
limits;
who have
I"
But
of the successor of St. Peter, Bernard draws a parallel between the two elements, divine and human, which constitute the Pontiff,
*'A madman upon the throne is but an ape upon the Listen to what I have to say upon this subject. house-top. It is a monstrous thmg to see supreme dignity and a narrow an eminent position and ignorant behavior a mind
; ;
tongue and a useless hand ; an eloquent speech and barren actions a grave face and light conduct ; sovereign I hold up the authority and vain and changeable resolves.
diffuse
;
mirror before you, that you that you may acquire what
may
is
wanting to you ; all is Seek to he wants to him who thinks nothing. wanting to confess not ashamed be what is and wanting, perfect
jrour
wants."
this first consideration St.
Prom
Sll
is,
what
is
to
he
may domineer
it
over
it,
or possess
it,
may
govern
with wisdom.
neither
poison nor steel which I dread so much for you as the passion for dominion." He desires that the Pope should extend
his care
over
all
belongs to
all,
to the wise
faithful
and to
infidels,
It
is
part of his ministry to labor for the conversion of those who have not the faith, to hinder those who have the faith from
losing
it.
The
wounds of
the over-
the Church.
sharpness of zeal in others; he points out ambition and avarice as the two most frightful of these wounds the
sources
he all, deplorable demands a reform of the abuse of too frequent and easy
of the
most
abuses
above
You are appealed to from all parts of the world ; a witness to your pirmacy. What can, in fact, be more beautiful than to see the weak shielded from oppression as
appeals.
it is
"
soon as they take shelter under your name ? But what an evil, on the other hand, to see him who has done the wrong
rejoice
its
protection?
pass."
Awake,
Man
of God,
when
these things
come to
Having concluded
in favor of
the right of appeals, so that the abuse of a too frequent recourse to them be avoided, St. Bernard touched upon
another
tions.
evil,
"It
is
which troubled the hierarchy that of exempa general grievance of all churches," he says
:
"they complain that they are mutilated and dismembered. You ask why? Because abbots are exempted from the
jurisdiction of bishops
;
You do
Is this orderly? is it excusable? because you can do it; but the question la whether you ought to do it " Here the holy writer point*
it
512
HISTORY C7
ST.
BERNAMX
that the
at his post,
tion should
and
fulfil
monasteries, good order in the various ranks of society ; and thus, while respectmg the instructions born of Christian
piety,
had
St.
that
is
to say, the
Roman
people.
C^h
saint evinces
some embarrassment
in entering
upon subjects so delicate, on which custom would be pleaded against him; and upon which, whatever he might say,
although practised in former times, would be regarded as new, and would give displeasure to "the satraps with whom
majesty suits better than truthJ^Yet^ said he to Eugenius, there have been pastors before you who gave themselves en-
Pastors both
in
name and
what might be against the salvation of then* sheep who gave to tbem their labor, their goods, their existence, and
had no other end before them but to form a people perfect " before God. What is become of this custom ?" cries St
you see all the zeal of certain ecclesiastics cenThey upon the preservation of their own dignity. If some give all to honor, and little or nothmg to sanctity. circumstance calls upon you to humble yourself, to make
;
Bernard
"
tred
f ourself more accessible; they tell you at once that this does not befit your dignity, that this does not befit your rank, your character. The last thing spoken of is what is due to
God.^
813
ex*
The
5imt reviews
Roman
Court.
He
then returns to the Pope, and addresses him in this bold " What, then, will you not awake amid the apostrophe bands of death which surround you ? I feel a holy jealousy
:
for
you
it is
it
may be
as profitable to you
;
as
ardent
m me
and
flatterers are of
;
know your dwelKng-place infidels your company. They are wolves and
I
You cannot deny not sheep and yet you are their pastor. I speak of it or he whose place you hold would deny you but do we hear that he ever appeared in pubhc St, Peter
laden with gold and jewels, clothed silk, borne upon a white litter, surrounded by soldiers, and followed by a
pompous train?
without
*
all this
Assuredly, Peter beheved himself able, paraphernalia, to fulfil the Lord's command,
Feed
my
lambs, feed
my
sheep J
Indeed, in
all this
splendor
which surrounds you, one would take you for the successor of Constantine rather than for the successor of Peter yet I
;
counsel you to endure these things for a time, but not to This simple counsel, require them as of absolute necessity."
his description of Roman pomp, is characthe prudence of the man of God ; and, at the same time, marks out the boundary which separates him from the modern reformers, whose uncommissioned zeal makes
which concludes
teristic of
war upon needful, though temporary forms like madmen, who would cut down the tree to free it from the insects
;
its leaves and bark, they would purify the Church by destroying the papacy. It is not by abuses that we can correct abuses and evil will never yield to a greater evil. It is by good, on the contrary, according to the words
;
which cleave to
Holy Scripture, that we must overcome evil. Thus, after a severe investigation into all the vices which had gUded, together with human passions and weaknesses, into the
of
holiest institutions of the
314
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
and he sums up, most admirably, those which ought adorn the Pontiff of Rome'T^ Consider, before all things,"
"
that the
Bays he,
Roman
Church, of which
you the head, is the mother, and not the sovereign of other Churches ; that you are, not the sovereign of bishops, but
one among them
the
brother of those
who
love
God, and
the companion of those who fear Him. Consider that you ought to be a living rule of justice, a mirror of sanctity, a
of the faith, the teacher of nations, the protector of Christians, the friend of the Bridegroom, the guide of the Bride,
the pastor of nations, the preceptor of the ignorant, the refuge of the oppressed, the advocate of the poor, the hope of the unfortunate, the guardian of the orphan, the stay of the widow, the eye of the blind, the tongue of the dumb, the staff of the aged, the avenger of crune, the terror of the
wicked, the glory of the just, the rod of the mighty, the scourge of tyrants, the father of kings, the moderator of
laws, the dispenser of canons, the salt of the earth, the
hght
of the world, the priest of the Most High, the vicar of the Saviour, the anointed of the Lord, the God of Pharaoh I^' 7-
This
sublime
is
Is there anything
more
among human
CHAPTER XXXII.
OORTINUATION OP THE PRECEDINGGENERAL IDEA OF THE PHILO> SOPHY AND MYSTICAL THEOLOGY OP ST. BERNARD.
In the " Book of the Consideration," as in all his othr wrltmgs, St. Bernard views simultaneously, and never apart,
the active and the contemplative
life
^faith
mS
and
its fruits,
315
The fina. end of his charity and its marvels. teaching and of his life is the same union with God by con-
union with
men by
action
and
charity.
addressed to Eugenius, after having determmed the Pontifif^s relations with the things of this
him
which
is acquired, not by the activity of the mind, but by the contemplation of a purified intelligence. Here St. Bernard soars, as it were, by a sublune flight,
He first considers the angels ^he explains their names, their hierarchies, their prerogatives, their different functions ; next, approaching the most exalted
objects of theology, he contemplates the Divine Majesty,
and
develops that dogma, so fruitful appHcations, of the union of the Divine Word with human nature.
Bernard, like
love,
all
science
upon
and seeks to
man
by
-
abstract speculations than by purity of heart and the practice "The things which are above us," of Christian virtues. said he, "are not taught by words; they are revealed by the Spirit. Now, contemplation must seek ; prayer, ask ; merit sanctity, ; purity, obtain what words cannot express."
Now, God
contemplate truth, then, in that mysterious and ineffable abyss, we must pass through a purgative way, which strips us of all that intervenes between
BS and truth, between our darkened eyes and the light of heaven.
God
To
By
well
school
we recognize the of practical philosophy, to which St. Bernard, as as Hugh and Richard of St. Victor, belonged a
this profoundly Christian character
316
the soul.
HISTOBY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
find
In the works of
scientific
St.
Bernard we
no complet
system of
subhme
rays of light, which enhghten and regulate the whole range of philosophy.
Setting out from love as the source of wisdom, he proves that purity of heart, the condition of pure wisdom, comes from the love of divine things ; as impurity of heart, the
cause of
things.
from the love of earthly and carnal the various kinds of love, which, according to their degree of purity, bring man near to God. St. Bernard traces the ascending scale. The soul must pass at
all error, arises
Hence
.once
from virtue to
is
virtue,
and from
light to hght.
In pro-
by the fire of love, her vision becomes wider and brighter. She loves and contemplates she contemplates what she loves and these two acts, the
portion as she
dilated
: ;
act of the will which loves, and the act of the intelligence
which contemplates, will be blended in eternity into one and the same act, uniting man with God for, when our mind
;
our will shall be united to His, and work, in union with Him, th works of God. The end of man is to know and love ; and he who loves
shall see
God
as he
is,
most purely knows most perfectly. Now, in order to know the eternal object of love, the soul must be sufficiently purified to be capable of feeling the divine agency and the presence of God. This sentiment is, as it were, the aurora of the spiritual sun, which rises upon the soul, and unveils a before it the sublime horizon of the invisible world
solemn
moment, whose
"
undefinable
if
mystery cannot
be
I had myself experienced " do you think that I it," says St. Bernard, in his humility, could speak of what is unspeakable ? It is not the tongue,
expressed in words.
Even
the unction of grace which teaches these things ; they are hidden from the great and the wise of this world, but
it is
God
reveals
them to
babefl."
mS
Yet the
is
811
awaken-
sensible
interior
by which the heart is carried on to the ing a certain knowledge of self which of and virtue, practice more St. Bernard explains lofty contemplations. precedes
the
force
this
new
by
his
own
is
experience.
know
that the
Word was
Uving
Because
He
ask me how I came to Would you know this ? and efficacious and, at the moment
near ?
;
"
You
my
soul,
he awakened
it
out of sleep
my hard,
sick,
He
heart.
plant,
to water
my
dryness, to enlighten
my
darkness, to open
of
what was
the
closed, to enkindle
Word my soul,
what was
frozen.
The Spouse
extraordinary tokens, either by voice or visible appearance. I have felt His agency only by the movement of my heart ;
active
my
vices,
by the
penitent view of my faults, by the renewal of my life, by the enlarged vision of all tMngs which show forth his greatness."
soul which aspkes after this divine light must, thereseek fore, first, and in all possible ways, to please Him who in the celestial city. She must tarry a long time in reigns
The
the darkness of faith, bringing forth in gradual development generous deeds and fruits of love. Then, concentrating herself, and attracting the hght, by the ardor of her desires;
into her inmost cell, it is converted into
fire
;
a furnace of sacred
luminous, and expands before God by the internal heat of ardent charity. "Then,'* says " St. Bernard, the soul is constrained to manifest itself outall
wardly, like a lamp which was once under a bushel, but can no longer remain hidden. The body even, the image of the Boul, partakes of this light, and diffuses it by all its organs 1
818
HISTORY OP
ST.
3ERNARD
it sliines in its actions, words, looks, movements, in its erel sweet and gentle smile. The visible beauty of virtue is a token of the soul's maturity, and of her fitness for the spirit-
ual marriage
This marriage, this heavenly alliance, is, as we have seen, the pomt to which all St. Bernard's lessons tend ; this union
God is the grand object of the ascetic Ufa and of Christian philosophy it begins in this life, and is consummated in eternity. The holy doctor returns unwearied
of the soul with
;
he views
all
it
on
all sides,
and
applies him-
that might tarnish its perfection. He first shows the possibihty of this alliance ; "Let it not " that the inequaUty of the two terms be thought," says he, the union renders imperfect, or impedes its consummation.
from
Love
it supplies all, fills all voids, bridges over all gulfs forms an indissoluble bond and renders the spiritual marriage
;
perfect."
and unveils its glorious mystea chaste and holy love, sweet and strong, intense and lively, which of two makes but one, according to
explains this marriage,
is
He
:
ries
" It
'
He who
adheres to
God
is
but
one spbit with Him.' Happy the soul which is bound by such a love And how shall the bride of Love faU to love
I
her Bridegroom ? How shall the Bridegroom, fail to be loved by His bride ?"
who
is
Love,
The possibihty, the means, and the conditions of this union being laid down, St. Bernard approaches another point He admits, with all ascetic writers, the of no less dehcacy.
transformation of
men
into
God
all
pantheistic identification,
and precise distinction of the two substances, the created and the uncreated, which san never be confounded and he thus avoids the rock on
by the
clear
wrhich so
The list sermon philosophers have struck. ID the Oantide of Canticles contains the formal doctrine of
many
319
Bernard on
with
God
" The union of man important question : " in a confusion of natures, not consists," says he,
this
but in a conformity of wills. Between the three Divine Persons, there is an unity of essence and of substance ;
\/
God
there
is
an unity of
affection
and
with the question of pantheism, God is the bemg of all thmgs ; not that all things are the same thmg with Him,
He,
therefore,
who
created created
;
all
things
is is
He
that
but
He
the very bemg of the things which the being of beings in such sort
He
is
St.
de
exposition of the doctrine of the Holy Trmity, which, with all the Fathers of the Church, he regards as the basis and
guishmg three
One, gives
the complete idea of the Divinity. In fact, God may be considered, according to Scripture, as Being, Light, and Love.
of
the Father is the mfinite and absolute abyss being ; the Son, the infinite and absolute manifestation of being the Holy Ghost, the infinite and absolute
all
;
As Bnng,
life
of being.
eternally
knowmg
the
Holy Ghost
is
is the object the subject eternally known ; the living and eternal relation between
the
Son
is
the object and the subject. Lastly, the Father, considered as eternal Love, loves eternally ; the Son is the term eternally loved,
this love
;
the
and who, from all eternity, has responded to Holy Ghost is the substantial relation between
the Father and the Son, the love proceeding from both.
Thus the dogma of the Trmity, revealing the perfect fulness f God, if we may so express ourselves, excludes by thii
820
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
of creation to
necessity
com
it
finite
orthodox
limits of this
ancient
and
modem errors of
duahsm,
pantheism, and polytheism. St. Bernard, stayed upon this immutable mystery, fears not to sound all depths connected with the origin of created things. He mterprets the thoughts
of St. Augustine upon these deep questions, admitting with Mm, and with most mystical theologians, the pre-existence
of the creature
m the
Divine Wisdom.
"
Where
"
shall
we
but in the place the reason of things," says St. Augustine, of the For was Creator himself? there intelUgence nothing to contemplate out of Himself from which to copy creation.
Now,
is
there
is
eternal
principles
ideas,
and unchangeable. Therefore, those reasons or of things, which Plato calls ideas, are not only
but their being is the true being, because they are imchangeable and eternal, and all that is, whatever the manner of its being, exists only by participation of them." " " The
reason of
all things," all
says Origen,
existing in the
were made, it follows that there also has always existed a world as much more beautiful, more highly adorned, more magnificent than the sensible world,
as pure reason excels materialized reahties." This is exactly the doctrine of St. Bernard.
Wisdom by whom
He
finds
on
and he contemplates from on high, after a far more subhme manner than Plato, the celestial ideals which pre-exist in the Divine wisdom.
;
things clearly.
They see the Word, and in the Word all things which were made by Hun ; so that they have no need to borrow from
HIS PHILOSOPHY
AND THEOLOGY.
321
creatures the knowledge of the Creator. They have nc need to descend among creatures even to attam the know-
ledge of them
them
in this nurror in
far
in themselves."
gives the
name of predestmation
to the
"Predestination," says he, ** did not begin with the birth of the Church ; nor even with the creation of the world, nor with any period of time whatever
;
these ideas.
it
preceded
in
all ages.
The assembly
;
has been always been always God, by predestination Him. beloved to For," adds he, Him, always by present " hath blessed us with God words of St. the Paul, borrowing
it
spiritual blessmgs in
He
chose
us
be holy and unspotted in His sight m charity." Eph. i. 3, 4. St. Bernard then viewed man at once in the real and in the
ideal world
;
we should
sary relations and communications, and it was in this sense that he said, "That the same things which are within us
above us
bemg."
With the mysteries of creation he connects the work of These two prunordial ideas the Incarnation of Jesus Christ.
have but one explanation love. Both were conceived m the Divme wisdom the end of both is the realization of
;
the
spu*itual
which the soul enkindled, transfigured by the Word, is, in Bome sort, deified with Hun. St. Bernard develops this
sublime view by natural analogies, and deduces from it all " As a httle drop of wathe principles of the ascetic life. " when it falls into a vessel full of wine, seems ter," says he, to cease to be what it was, and takes the color and form of
S23
HISTOBT OF
as iron, heated by like to the
ST.
BERNARD.
its
mne
fire,
losing
;
own
form, reddeni
air,
and becomes
fire itself
as the
penetrated
by the light of the san, is, in some sort, transformed, and becomes luminous like that body, so in the saints all human
affection melts, ceases to
be
itself, is
ineffably transformed,
in the
Will of God.
The human
sub-
The
of the
restoration of humanity,
Word, supposes
its
fall.
its
reign Good, its propagation in the world, and the manner of its transmission. St. Bernard, without especially treating on these deep questions, touches upon them in several of his
writings.
His doctrine
both
is
He
free-
will, that
in its origm,
it, is
which
And
opmion
evil, even of the devil himself, results from " It is not," says he, "a his constantly perverted self-will. foreign and violent force, but a wilful obstinacy and obsti-
the persistence in
evil,
and prevents
* This truth, which throws such great light on the dogma of eternal punishment, has been fully developed by M. Bautain, in the 87th letter " of La Phil du Christian, " The angel of darkness," says he, preubordination.
ferred to live of himself, and he will always prefer independence to It was he himself, who chose that state of violence so
contrary to the law of his own nature. He is in torments ; but the cause of his torments is in himself not in God ; it is the energy ot his opposition, the ardor of his self-will; and his torments will
last so long as
he
being
and he
will will
which is contrary to the law of hii always, because infinite love cannot forot
823
;
As
it is
for.
according to St. Bernard, as well as St. Augustme, all that "If is is good, and evil can have no proper substance.
evil
were a substance, that substance would be good." "That which is evil," says the holy Bishop of Hippo, "is
human
on
it
" carnal bh-th," says he, destroys ; is the spiritual birth which saves me." " Sin," adds he, "is communicated to us by the way of
this subject
The
generation,
spiritual generation,
and redemption comes to us through our own by the cross and death of Jesus Christ."
" have develops this thought in another work : justly," says he, "contracted the sin of Adam, because
He
We
all
have
all
we were
all in
we him when
of
spiritual bu-th,
which we derive
flesh by the But who doubts that the from God, is far more real
than what we derive from Adam, acccording to the flesh ? Jesus Christ, accordconsidering, above all, that we were
we were
in
Adam,
according
Thus, in aU philosophical questions, Bernard returns to He looks upon that ideal in the primitive ideal of things. Scithe double point of view of science and of practice.
ence,
ter.
if it
be
true,
must produce
its
reflection
on the charac-
The
real
life
or practice must,
governed by
which
is
rirtue of being."
324
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
lie
Applying these views to the entire work of redemption, finds there the realization of one and the same idea,
which contains in germ the whole development of the world and of humanity. This plan of divine wisdom has three and St. Bernard seems to connect them with the phases
;
personal action of the three terms of the Holy Trinity. The triple knot of the covenant, contracted between God and
man, is thus explained the first covenant was made by the Father the second, wrought by the Son, was the complement of the first ; a third covenant, consecrated by the
: ;
Holy Ghost, will be the perfection of the other two. The was engraved on tables of stone, tkat it might be, as it were, set before man ; the second was implanted in man
first
himself, to unite
is
the third
to be expressed
by
its
elect.
The creation and the reconciliation," says he, "relate to the present time ; but the confirmation relates to the world The Father created the world in the beginning to come. of time ; the Son reconciled it in the fulness of time ; the
"
Holy Spirit will perfect it after the end of time. " The Son said of the Father, 'My Father worketh until now and he adds, speaking of himself, and I work.^ John V. But the Holy Ghost may say, until the consummation of ages, The Father and the Son have worked until that is to say, when he shall now, and I begm to work have made our body spiritual, then our body shall be united The Old Testament to the spirit, and the spirit to God.
'
;'
'
;'
tells
its
recon-
cihation
the
its
New
reveals
to us this reconciliation,
and
promises
perfect fulfilment."
will conclude this chapter, in which we have only been able to uidicate briefly the partial elements of a sublime freedom with philosophy, by remarking the truly apostolic
We
325
which
St.
Christian science.
The contemplative
or mystical school to
which he belonged, had faith for its basis and love for its end ; between these two bomidaries philosophy might specuulate freely under the ever-open eye of the Church. The
authority which watches over the deposit of sacred traditions desires not to hinder the production of these fruits of
brings out of his treasure things new and old, according to the needs which change with changing time, the Church tolerates, animates, and encourages all the efforts
who
of genius,
all
all
the investigations of
human thought. But she keeps them to the path traced and she shows herself as inexoout by the Divme Word
;
rable and inflexible to the proud spirits whom pride drives out of the road of orthodoxy, as she is liberal in her trust
talent
which remams
faithful to
The
show us the
necessity of this
severe vigilance.
CHAPTER
XXXIII.
ST.
BERNARD'S TIME.
There ^ human
It
is
mind,
;
when
traditions
it
follows its
disdaining the guidance of the sacred own light in the search after truth.
would be a
an impossible task, to
;
the diversities of
would be found, perhaps, to equal the infinite and these, in their turn, viewed in a variety of moral vices psychological and physiological pomt of view, would, doubt'
;
526
less, find
HISTORY OF
their
ST.
BERNARD.
maladies.
degraded types in the multiplicity of corporal This triple manifestation of evil springs originally
;
its
kind,
a remarkable
fact,
that a
period of immoraUty ordinarily brings on a period of error, and that again is followed by the scourge of corporal malThese three series of evils are far more closelj adies.
connected than
another
body
is generally thought, and they produce one morals regulate the mind, and the mind rules the and public health actually depends upon doctrines,
;
upon morahty. It would, perhaps, be an interesting study, setting out from this point of view, to characterize each century by the nature of its predominant
as doctrines depend
evil,
world.
on
this observation,
treating,
manifest that the twelfth century is distinguished by the aberration of human reason, and by the heterodox tendency
of intellectual speculations. The predominance of barbarous in the preceding century had prepared the way for
this
manners
tendency
it
was
by physical
mortality.^
and a period of
frightful
We
him
we
with them.
of Aristotle was, as
The method
we have
ceding chapter, the great mstrument by the aid of which the innovators undertook to justify their eccentric doctrines. The
species of fanaticism to which the study of the
Greek
philo-
sophers had given rise in the Christian schools, had carried the rationalistic theologians mto absurdities. Some, carried
The numeronB and strange maladies which broke out at the end of the 18th century, are well known. It was especially under the not of Valois thftt nations were decimated by them.
827
nature,
by the seductions of Mamcheism, supposed a primico-existent with God, co-eternal with Him ;
Himseif, to necessary the reveries of the InOthers, reviving dians and the Gymnosophists, viewed creation as the eternal
subject, in its development, like
God
and absolute
laws.
all
created be-
a gross pantheism, which confounded God, man, and nature together.* Others again
;
God
and
ology
this
the age
spirit
of
curiosity,
;
made more
by
them, as
it were, in order to adapt them to scholastic cateand gories, subject them to the narrow conceptions of reason. Lastly, impetuous and austere innovators, under pretext of
and uprooting heavenly and earthly plants together from the field of the Church ;phey composed a new Christianity, which broke into a thousand fragments, and subdivided into;
many sects, j These various heresies, which had been long hatching in darkness, displayed their symbols openly at the period when Arnold of Brescia flattered himself that he had
as
struck
first propaganda and several dioceses Languedoc Provence, of southern France, were soon infected. These countries
down
The
was organized
eeemed more accessible than others to the enterprises of inBesides the kind of charm which oriental mystinovators.
cism exercised over lively imaginations, the gross manners and ignorance of the clergy, and the vices and pulic scandals
of which too
lent
revolting spectacle,
but too powerful an aid to the preachers of the new These men at first confined their attacks to the doctrines.
German pantheism, eBpecially the school of Hegel, vflbpring of these old errors.
seems to be an
328
clergy
tical
;
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
but from the clergy they passed on to the eccleaiafr from the hierarchy, to the authority of the hierarchy
; ;
and, this barrier once broken through, errors poured Each of these schools in floods into the schismatical schools.
Church
gave itself out as the one only true Church, under a name borrowed either from its head, or from the city where it had
just
sprung up.*
Manichean
after-
new name
of Albigenses.
They had been preceded by the Petrobusians, disciples of and from the midst Peter of Bruys. They again divided of them issued forth the Henricians, more violent than their Tanchelme and his partisans, known in the predecessors.
;
twelfth century under the name of the heretics of Cologne, mitigated the doctrines of the monk Henry, and propagated
tliem in Flanders,
The
Apostolicals of Perigueux, the Cathari of Italy, the Pata. " rins or Perfect of Germany, the Passagiens," the "Bons-
by the
mas, and by
their
r*
lie
authority.
common revolt against the centre of CathoThe Manicheism of the Albigenses, as con-
temporary chronicles testify, was not the same as that of Manes. They taught that God had created Lucifer, who,
having revolted against God, was driven from heaven with his angels ; and that, having been banished from the invisible regions,
visible world,
over which
Christ,
he ruled
God, to
who was
in this last
*
of God. It was point that the Albigenses agreed with the Arians.
As we
we seem
;
to
so true
that the
same
erroiv
329
These sectaries, full of resentment against the clergy, because of the severity with which they had been treated, directed
their chief assaults against everything religion which was connected with the priesthood. They rejected the doctrme of the sacraments, the ceremonies of the Church, the prero-
condemned
and drew
all
tithes,
and stigmatized
this
who
possessed property
It
was
which gave
them
discontented spirits and especial influence, avaricious nobles, impatient to mvade the domams of the Church, to their side. St. Bernard, who was called upon to
fessed
combat them, draws a hideous picture of the sects who prosome of the dogmas of this formidable heresy. He
accused them of leading a dissolute
pearances
;
life,
in particular, their
concerning marriage, infant baptism, abstinence, purgatory, and prayer for the dead. Among these heresiarchs, Peter
de Bruys distinguished hunself by his audacity. He dogmatized m Languedoc and Provence, while his disciple, Henry,
preached at Lausanne, and played the apostle in several other parts of France. The first was a layman ; the second
a renegade monk.
to the
Both taught that children, not yet come use of reason, were incapable of receiving baptism effectually ; and, acting upon that opinion, they rebaptized
they received into theu* sect. Besides this heresy, they professed many others, more or less pernicious, which the venerable Abbot of Cluny reduces to five heads :
1st.
adults
whom
buildings, temples,
and
They rejected the They forbade the celebration of regarding the Mass as useless or supersti2nd.
4th. They taught that neither prayer nor good works, any more than the Mass, can avail to the relief of the 5th. They cut out of the canon of Holy Scripdeparted.
ture several
New
Testament
SSO
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNABO.
lamentable disorders.
These novelties had captivated many minds, and fometited Nothing was to be seen in ProYenco
altars over-
"The churches are deserted," criei thrown, crosses burnt. St. Bernard, as he viewed, on the very spot, the ravages of heresy; "the churches are deserted, the basilicas witnou
worshippers, the people without priests, the priests exposed to contempt, and Christians without Christ I They strip out temples as bare as synagogues, they rob our sacraments of
all
sacred, they deprive our solemn days of their august solemnity 1 Men die in their sins ; and then* souls
is
I
that
alas pass from this life to the dread tribunal of God, with out having been reconciled by the sacrament of penance, or fortified by holy communion I* Little children are excluded
from
life,
is
refused to them,
Hun
who, neverchildren
Suffer the
little
to
come to mej**
Oh, how well does
language express a true solicitude St. Bernard, on this occasion, I
does not lose his time in refuting doctrmes ; he is too eager to save souls. He views the doctrines only in the fatal
they exercise upon souls j he touches them to the quick ; he pomts out their fatal consequences, and we shall soon see hun hastening, not to dispute or discuss, but to
effect
instruct
and
heal.
Meanwhile, the Henricians fortified themselves at Toulouse, whither the Abbot of Clauraux instantly repaired.
Other heretics, stirred up by Tanchelme, propagated errors more dangerous and extravagant still, at Cologne, and in a
part of Holland.
St.
like
Peter
What would have happened if there had been a Mntoij t What if we had a St. Bernard now f
Bernard stayed the outbreak of heresy in the 12th century. St. Bernard in the 16ti
331
de Bruys, a mere layman. He pretended to have received a mission to reform the discipline and teaching of the Church. Like all the other reformers of his time, he
first against the Pope, the episcopate, the usurof the clergy ; he soon interpreted, after his own pations the sacrament of the altar ; and these first attempts fashion,
declaimed
Mean-
Tanchelme, elated by the success of his preaching, believed himself not only an apostle, but represented himself as the Son of God, main-
God only because the Holy that thus having received, like Jesus Christ, the plenitude of the Holy Spirit, he was not
tainmg that Jesus Christ was
Spirit rested
upon
Him
inferior to
Him. The people believed hun and Tanchelme was honored as a divine man. It is even asserted, on the testunony of Abelard and others, that he permitted a temple
;
to be built in his honor, while he overthrew the temples consecrated to Jesus Christ. This heresiarch had begun hia
by denouncing the disorderly lives of the clergy he ended by sanctioning the same disorders, and gave example of scandals far more monstrous than those against which
career
;
he had protested.
his disciples,
that they boasted of the infamous favors which the divim ma/n had granted to their wives and daughters. Some other sects, derived from these of Cologne, had
arrived by another road, if not at the same extravagances, at least to a sort of Christianity no less devoid of life and truth. "They taught," writes the Provost of Cologne to
St. Bernard,
"that the perfect alone compose the true all other Christians are abandoned to
the
and error." Then* stumbling-block had been of purgatory ; they rejected it, and maintained that souls on leaving the body passed immediately to their "Ask them, then," cries St. place either in heaven or hell.
dogma
S32
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Bernard, "ask them to explain to you what Jesus Christ means when He speaks of a sin which shall not be remitted
either in this world or the other.
Why
speak thus, if neither remission nor purgatory be possible in the other world ?"
By the
these
heretics
breaking of this one link in the chain of revelation lost the whole of the Christian doctrine.
After having denied purgatory, as a consequence of their negative principle, they denied the efficacy of prayer for the
dead.
But
this
crated by tradition
was one of the most ancient usages conseto escape it, tradition must be demed ;
;
but again,
this
custom
is
Scripture ; these books, therefore, must be rejected. Lastly, the Fathers of the first centuries, and especially St. Augustine,
in all ages,
has
Therefore, replied the heretics, St. Augustine and the Fathers followed on this pomt the reveries of paganism, and the whole Church, from
commemorated them
the very
first
and
error.
its
fundamental dog-
mas, of
worship,
its
secular monuments,
and
it
the guarantees of its integrity, was not long before began to mmgle with the doctrines of a false mysticism, which, rejecting all forms in order to preserve the spirit
all
alone,
abandons
man
to his
own
vain imagmations.
The
Cathari, so called from the testimony they bore to themselves, as forming the Church of indefectible purity, opened
the door to the strangest superstitions, while they closed it agamst the teaching of the Church. According to these
heretics, the devil is the creator of material elements
;
it
waa
the body of Adam of the slime of the earth, in which an angel of light was enclosed; he afterwards
he
who formed
333
man
of which Scripture speaks, is nothing else but the symbol of their commerce. "They taught besides," says a grave author, "that the sun is the devil, that the moon is Eve, that the stars are demons, and, lastly
fruit
that no
man can be
This same
author speaks of another sect who went to the contrary extreme from those who rejected the Holy Scriptures.
to a pharisaic sanctity,
by the
They maintained that Jesus Christ had never abolished that law, and that it was
necessary to salvation to return to the Sabbath, circumcision, and other observances of the synagogue.
Lastly, the Amoldists, disciples of Arnold of Brescia, had, after their rupture with the Church, framed a mitigated Their preaching was directed Christianity of their own.
principally
against the
Pope
Thirty of these fanatics crossed over to England to dissemmate their doctrine ; but they were cut off at the very beginning of then* enterprise. History assigns to them but on
single
conversion
one old
woman
seed
yators,
and
received the
Newbury, an almost contemporary historian, relates examination and punishment ; all protested, to their
breath, against the authority of the Pope,
of the Church.
* I look upon this woman ot tne 12tti century as the mother of Anglicanism; at least, that which she conceived in her womb another woman brought forth some centuries later. With doctrines the time
">f
gestation
is
down
realizati<Hi
334
HI8T0BT OF
ST.
BERNARD
whom we
will just
mention here to complete the sad picture. He was a noble Breton, Eon de I'Etoile, who, in the
delirium of his enthusiasm, announced hunself as the messen-
ger from God, sent to judge the living and the dead. Eon iad, it is said, been struck with the concluding words of some prayers of the Church which he did not understand :
Fer
mm
qui vetdurus
es
judicare vivos
et
mortuos.
He
fan-
was pointed out m these words ; and persuaded others of the same. His pretended revelations about the
cied that he
on the people
ble resistance.
last judgment made an impression and he was not arrested without a formida-
Pope Eugenius treated his doctrine as folly and not heresy.* He caused the insane preacher to be confined but his disciples, madder than himself, chose to
;
suffer
master.
which arose
and
Organized an immense conspiracy against the Church, which called forth a long cry from all Christendom.
Porree, to which we snail have to revert hereafter. Those errors arose rather from an abuse of logic in doctrinal
matters than from wilful opposition to the teaching of the Gilbert de la Porree dared not mamtain the proChurch.
position
in the
presence of St.
Bernard, and he hastened to sign the profession of faith composed by him. It was necessary, according to the words of the Gospel,
Eon, in Greek, signifies Being. The Gnostios gave the name of to the pretended incarnations of the Supreme Being, who, according to them, manifested themselves, from time to time, upon earthIt is probable that some vague tradition of this kind mingled with tk
Eons
f(U7ofondrtoUe.
S86
show forth their had not been planted by the heavenly Father could be known and rooted up. Those and the Abbot of Clairvaux, being charged finiits were ripe
all
made
this
high mission serve to the extirpation of heresy ; it folly of the cross that he was destined to
of this double series of facts forma
of St. Bernard, which will form tb rabject of the last part of this work.
S36
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNiJD.
/tfti) iperioi
CHAPTER XXXrV
APOSTOLIC LIFE OF ST. BERNARD, FROM THE PREACH ING OF THE CRUSADE UNTIL HIS DEATH. (1146-1158.)
IDEA OP THE CRUSADES-STATE OP CHRISTIANITY IN THE BAST.
Land
thee.
of
divine
Land
of prophecy, country of
oui
thy very name we feel an irresistible emotion, and the depths of our souls re-echo the " accents of the royal psalmist : Jerusalem, may my right hand perish, if ever I forget thee 1"
eyes
At
But
if
we would speak
St.
;
Bernard
Son of God
I
Hail to thee, dwelling-place of the Great King, whence have emanated all the wonders of ancient and modern times which have rejoiced the world
I
of empires, see of patriarchs, mother of prophets and apostles, first cradle of our faith, Hail, promised land, once glory and honor of Christianity I
Queen of
nations, capital
flowing with milk and honey for thy first children, thou hast produced the food of fife and the medicine of immortality
for all future ages
like
the
S31
to the dead
who touch
Her name,
invested with
like
the
name
of God, whence
derived,
is
a hidden power, which at certain periods manifests itself like the electric spark, and diffuses a sacred emotion throughout
every land
;
astray,
when
it
be-
comes exhausted, or slumbers in the shadow of death, thi life-giving name awakens it, and the angel who descends into
the pool of the holy city stirs the springs of life, and pours the heavenly sap once more through the veins of the human
race.
There has never been any great idea, or first principle, or heavenly inspiration, which has not arisen in the Holy Land before its diffusion throughout the world. There, in the beginning, flowed the tears
sinful
man
there,
under the mount of skulls,* are laid the remains of Adam and those of the mother of the living. Melchisedek came
there to offer
and
mankind
each in
of
all
the
;
The
three races of
its
descendants of Shem, Ham, and Japheth turn mingled their ashes with those of the father
men
^that
first
human
dead
vast cemetery of the sons of men, which gradually enlarged its limits into the uttermost parts of the earth.
field
On this mystical altar flowed the blood of beasts, the blood of man, and the blood of God ; and from the summit of this
altar,
sacrifice,
on the Holy Mount, where Christ consummated His Divine grace flowed forth upon the dead, and
watered the dust of man, which will one day revive again.
the place of sktillB," on whicli Calvary, Christ, is said to contain the ashes of
"
is
is
was raised the cross of and Eve. This assertion founded on pious tradition which th
Adam
t88
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD
the
All the nations of the world appear to have laid claim to Holy Land ; for it has been possessed, or occupied in
turns,
by the
From
it is
has been inhabited by new tribes, and by the flux and reflux of their blood that Jerusalem, the
time to time
rious existence.
very heart of the earth, nourishes the pulses of her myste* There can be no doubt that the Crusades,
this
whicn are the great drama of modern history, form a link m long chain of mysteries. To see in these wars nothing
but the enthusiasm of a few warriors rushing to the deliverance of a sepulchre, would be to strip their history of its
leading idea, and to overlook in the plan of Providence one of the most magnificent developments of the work of Christianity.
We
have already
of
man
there
is
an order of
invisible things in
last con-
sequences of events often escape our investigations. While we are in this life we can only perceive the leflections and
secondary
apostle's
efifects
of hidden causes
Christian
doctrine,
science
rather on great and permanent reahties than on passmg phenomena ; yet, were we only to judge of the Crusades by
we must allow that they were the exof a sublime idea, and a kind of Divme necessity in pression some sort, which alone could have produced such great
their visible results,
results.
It is not our object to enter into the details of this phase of our history. Other historians have recounted the exploits, the labors, the conquests, and the striking vicissitudes of the Christian heroes of that age ; but it is fitting that, on enter-
ing upon this province of history, we should bear witness to the spirit which animated the holy wars, and the immense
Influence which they exercised
upon Christian
civilization.
^j
Id the
first
339
Mahomet
pute was as to which of these two rehgions should possess the sovereignty of the world ; this question was carried before the tribunal of the holy city.
established their
the east, and from thence they threatened an invasion of the west. The nations of Europe, weakened by the dismemberment of their territories, and their civil dissensions,
uous torrent.
trembled at the approach of the waves of this impetHow could its onward progress be arrested
all
m one
all great undertakings, such a concourse and general stuTing of nations could only be effected under the mfluence of a religious idea. The
universal barrier ?
But, hke
power of inspmng
sentiment, unitmg them in one thought, and kmdling among them an universal flame of
men
with one
common
generous enthusiasm.
this
ahnost always the blind instrument of a ; work which surpasses his understanding the seed that he has
is
;
man
sown can only be revealed by its fruit. The Crusaders, in their warhke ardor, aimed only at the deliverance of a sepulchre,
But
it
was
dis.
fitting
played in all its simphcity, in order to be received and understood by the intellect of the age. The object in view was
rescue from the devil that sacred land above which the
heavens had opened to give testimony to the Son of God. This was clear to the capacity of all, and the magical influtnce of this divine idea captivated the whole of Christendom,
ftud revived its faith.
The
first result
of this
movement was
840
a
spirit of
HISTORY OF
union
ST.
BERNARD.
put an end to
and
its
In the next place, as a natural consequence, followed the exaltation of the Papacy, which always resumea
civil
wars.
cord
place at the head of human affairs when the spirit of conThe Crusades is to be reyived among the nations.
influence in
the affairs of the world than any doctrine, theory, or triumph by sword or word, before or since ; and this central influ-
ence and great preponderance which it possessed was the mainspring of the development of the middle ages, and of the
civilization of future times.
can we but admire the power which thus called toa hundred nations and united them in one common gether brotherhood ? Only a century before this time it was a difficult
How
five
It
was
Christian
influence of the
its ascendency over Catholic unity ; add to this consideration the magnanimous virtue to which the holy wars gave birth ; and if we even look at the matter from another point of view, and
Head
reflect
on the number of idle and degenerate Christians which the nations of the "West poured forth into the East and the universal purification of the Church which ensued, we shall
discover in the Crusades a
tages.
new
series of
mestimable advan-
material, but
This purification of the Church was not only moral an3 it was chiefly manifested in the sphere of the intellect. In the preceding chapters we have seen how great
was the fermentation of the pubhc mind the exuberance of human thought overflowed on every side and if, at that
; ;
it
S41
and Europe would have relapsed And from the intellectual most extraordinary and
point of view
we may
The name
of Christ,
preached everywhere with the authority of faith, imposed The silence on the discursive exercises of human reason.
remembrance of the holy places, where the mysteries of divine love had been accompUshed, revived Chriafeian piety
in the
minds of men ; fruitless discussions gave place to tears of compunction, and to the vain disputes of feebler tunes succeeded a spirit of active energy, the distinguishing characteristic
It
would be
difficult
to conceive
what the fate of Europe might have been if the holy wars had not opened a new course to the development of the human mind. The progress of civilization was much more
endangered by the errors of reason than by the mvasion of barbarians ; and we are unable to determme which would
same time
defeated by the Crusades ; and the preachers of the Holy Wars were so filled with the consciousness of the double
mission they had to perform, that their words were equally directed against heretics and infidels ; the Crusaders themselves spontaneously turned their
enemies.
It
is
God, or influenced by
justice,
and truth
we do not pretend
strous abuses which too often disgraced their enterprises. But, in this place, the only important point for consideratioQ
the great idea which predominates over all these questions ; and it is rather by this idea than by the facta
is
542
HISTORY or
snr.
Bernard.
which resulted therefrom, that we must judge of the man whose fiery eloquence aroused the spirit of the Crusades.
Holy Land by Godfrey de Bouillon and the preserTa ^on of this new kingdom by a mere handful of Christians,
leemed to be even more miraculous than the conquest
in fact, all the efforts of the
itself
;
many
formidable enemies
surrounded them, had proved unable to dislodge them. Franks of the East, trustmg in their acquired rights, and
full
who The
of faith in the future, lived on from day to day, without anxiety as to the hostile preparations which were then being made in the Saracen camp. It seemed to them that it was,
humanly speaking, impossible to lose that beloved land, which had been purchased by so many labors, and, as it
But were, consecrated by an effusion of Christian blood. towards the close of the year 1144, a fatal disaster disturbed
and overthrew all their hopes. The city of Edessa, the chief bulwark of Eastern Christendom, fell again into the hands of the Mussulmans. Edessa, according to an ancient tradition, was the first Christian city, for it was said
their security,
that
its
fall
The
king had been converted by Jesus Christ himself. of Edessa made Antioch tremble, and Jerusalem,
by a woman, was
left desolate
and
At
a cry of
distress
arose from the East, which resounded throughout Western Christendom. The misfortunes of the Holy Land excited
but nowhere did they meet with more ; than in France. The new kingdom had been deep sympathy ionquered and founded by the arms of France; French
a universal sorrow
* The city of Edessa was the capital of the principality founded in Mesopotamia by Baldwin, brother of Godfrey de Bouillon. It was taken, after a horrible massacre, by the Sultan of Bagdad, in 1144. At that time the throE'^ of Jerusalem was occupied by Melisiuda, widow f Falk of Ai^oo, and regent during the minority of >er son, Baldwin
841
princes were its feudatory possessors; a Freuchman was seated on the throne of Jerusalem ; and although every Christian State was mterested in the preservation of this
eastern colony, on account of the immense resources which oflfered for the piety of pilgrims, as well as for the purposes of commerce and navigation, yet the honor of France,
it
some
sort,
depended thereon, as that country was more Holy Land, through the French princes
who were its rulers. The news of the capture of Edessa reached France about the beginning of the year 1145 ; and the idea of hastening to the assistance of the eastern Christians forthwith took possession of the
The young
king,
who
hoped that so holy an enterprise would blot out his errors, and afford him, at the same time, an opportunity of display-
The remembrance of his unjust quarrels with ing his valor. the Holy See, the remorse he felt for his exactions in Champagne, and, above
le-Brule,
all,
weighed heavily on his soul and to these powerful motives was added his desire of fulfilling the vow made by his
his resolution of
elder brother,
was able to accomplish a makmg pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Notwithstandmg these considerations, however, Louia
died before he
fulfil
who had
his
generous intentions
of the undertaking appeared to him insurmountable, or whether his ardor was cooled by the remonstrances of
his minister, Suger,
many months
It belonged to the
Roman
Pontiff',
father of the eastern and western Christians, to give an active impulse to the interest universally excited by
the
common
He turned his eyes towards France, the country of those illustrious heroes, who, forty years beHe exhorted their fore, had delivered the Holy Sepulchre.
344
BISTORT OF
ST,
BERNARD.
ions to defend this glorious conquest of their fathers, and ht iflfered the honor of the initiative in the undertakmg to Louis
The words of the Holy Pontiff met with a powerful echo in the king's conscience, who now only awaited some solemn occasion to publish his pious intentions. "In the year of the Incarnate Word 1145, on the feast
yil.*
of the Nativity," says the chronicler, "Louis, King of France and Duke of Aquitame, held his full court at
Bourges, to which he more especially summoned the bishops and lords of his kmgdom, and confided to them the secret
intentions of his heart.
"
piety, spoke, in
After him, Godfrey, Bishop of Langres, a man of great moving terms, of the destruction of the city
of Edessa, and the disgraceful yoke which the infidels had imposed on the Christians. His words, on this sad subject,
all present ; he then mvited the assembly of nobles to unite with the king in rendering assistance to their brethren.
Nevertheless, the bishop's words and the king's example only sowed a seed, the harvest of which was gathered at a
later period.
"
It
in the
county of Nivernais
Burgundy), at Easter-tide, so that on the very feast of the Lord's Resurrection, all those who were touched by His
grace might concur in the exaltation of the cross of Christ. " The king, who was very soUcitous for the success of his design, sent deputies to Pope Eugenius, to inform him of
these matters.
dismissed with apostolic letters, enjoining obedience to the king on all who should engage in the holy war ; regulating
The
letter of
Eugene
:
III. is
^1 the French people " Dilectos filios, principes et universos Dei fldeles per Galliam constitutos." ^o Friting. Digttta Frid. Ub. \
845
arms and clothmg of the soldiers (A tho and ; promising onto those who should bear the sweet yoke of Christ, the remission of their sins, and protection for their wives and children."
cross
It
be undertaken
was accordingly resolved that a new Crusade should but public opinion was not agreed as to
;
the expediency of so arduous an enterprise. No one had presumed openly to oppose the king^s resolution ; but the ardor
of enthusiasm was
dampened by
political troubles,
and the
'
dangers of such a distant expedition. The spark was still wanting which was to kindle the materials for so vast a
conflagration.
The
state of affairs
first
Crusade
knowledge of
the places and of the obstacles to be encountered, the remembrance of the sufferings which Godfrey^s companions
Su-
the prudent counsellor of Louis YII., who entertained a very positive view on political matters, did not
above
all,
approve of the project of the Holy War, and he endeavored, though unsuccessfully, to turn the king's mind from this deWith reason and conscience on his side, he did not sign.
hesitate to trust the decision of this matter to the
wisdom
of the holy
Abbot
of Clairvaux.
;
The
summoned
to Bourges
and Suger,
portant question to his consideration, was far from supposing that St. Bernard himself would ardently embrace the idea
of a Crusade, and renew, throughout wonders of the age of Peter the Hermit.
Christendom, the
Bernard, however, refused to pronounce his opinion before the arrival of the apostolic brief. Many historians even say that it was by his advice Louis YII. sent ambassadors to
Rome.
private letters which St. Bernard wrott to Eugenius III., on this occasion, afford evidence of his pe^
But the
846
msTORY OP
st
bernaed.
Holy
See.
"The
cannot be a matter of great news of the day," he writes, indifference to any one ; it is a sad and serious aflfau*, and
our enemies alone can rejoice at it. That which is the common cause of Christendom ought likewise to be a subject of
nniversal sorrow.
.
"
.1 have read
;
somewhere that
courage augmented and I add, that the just man also in Jesus Christ is cruelly persegrows greater adversity. cuted ; He is struck, if I may dare so to speak, in the very
his difl&culties increase
a vahant
man
finds his
m proportion as
He suffers
I
in the
Who may
whom
;
him to
who
are the
Both those
ewords belong to Peter they must be drawn from the scabbard when necessity reqmres it one must be drawn by your
;
was
This sword, therefore, belonged to as as other sword ; only, he was not to use it well the him, with his own hand.
scabbard.^
xviii.
John
Put up
And now, I say, the time is come when you must use both these swords on this occasion, you should unitate the
;
"
zeal of
'
hold.
out,
am
Some may
indifference
going to Jerusalem, there to be crucified anew I* be deaf to this voice others may hear it with
;
but you, the successor of St. Peter, not close your ears, you should excaim, Though
;
*
who
all
f^
can-
should
I^et
I never
be scamdalized
us not be discouraged by past reverses, but rather let ua endeavor to repair them. Because God does what He wills,
is
man, therefore, dispensed from doing what he ought? It is true that, according to the words of Scrip-
ture,
we have eaten
we have beea
341
but
why
God
is
bridegroom? It may be that touched with compassion for our miseries, and will
friend of the
henceforth show us more mercy. This, you know, is Hia ordinary way of dealing with man ; and His most signal graces are oftentunes purchased at the price of some great
misfortune.
succor.
The danger
zeal
is
The
which inflames
with boldness."
See
These burning words excited the solicitude of the Holy but, as we are about to relate, the result w<4S far
;
CHAPTER XXXV.
BT.
BERNARD
EuGENius
III.
so
much
at heart, that he
go to France, that, according to his he might himself sound the trumpet of the Gospel, to summon all the brave and intrepid warriors of the French king
II., to
dom to defend the Holy Land. But the late revolution at Rome detamed hun beyond the Alps, and he was unable to To fulfil preside, m person, at the assembly of Yezelay. this apostolic mission, he sent, as his delegate, the man
whose authority surpassed, in some sort, that of the Pontiff hunself ; and when St. Bernard received the commission to
preach the Crusade, hand.
its
>i
success
before-
See.
He
S-iS
HISTORY 01
ST.
BERNARD.
in the fifty-fourth year of his age ; but his fragile and la?guid frame was so attenuated and weakened by austerities,
seemed to
that he
It
feet,
was with
and
diflficulty
had
monastery except when obliged by the most important affairs of his order ; and even on these occasions, he was frequently compelled to excuse himself ; for, as an " old chronicler says, he was ahnost dead, and you would
have thought he was about to breathe his last And yet, this frail and emaciated was animated a body by superhuman
when it became the organ of the Spirit of God." such tunes," writes one of his contemporaries, "he gradually became animated, and his sweet and burnmg
strength
"At
lips,
hke a
river of milk
and honey,
his heart as
Cassino,
Bernard a few years before, and had been struck with " This veneloquence, writes as follows, on this subject
erable
man is exceedingly
by the
fasts
he bears the deepest ; traces of humility, compunction, and penance ; he breathes such perfect sanctity, that his very appearance has a persua
austerities of the desert
sive eloquence, even when he does not open his Ups. He is endowed with great genius and wonderful talents bespeaks with simphcity his enunciation is clear, powerful, and full
; ;
and excessive
of unction
his action is
his
man-
ner
full
The
man is
and
his
example
knowmg the high endowof St. Bernard, had well nigh gifts him who waa his father of infirmities the forgotten corporal
Pontiff, therefore,
The Sovereign
349
Christ.
He
"
:
war, and
*'
his ministry
amongst those who were chosen to fulfil this mission, so pleasing to the Lord, the first and principal delegate was
Abbot of Clairraux, a man of most holy deserves to be universally held in hnmortal remembrance." The formally-expressed will of the Holy See preSieur Bernard,
life,
who
and Bernard,
its
full
Head, courageously accepted the weighty burthen of this apostolic mission. But when the Abbot of Clairvaux appeared amongst the men of the age, to draw them from their hearths and precipitate
them upon Asia, he did not find them in that favorhad so wonderfully conduced to
the preaching of Peter the Hermit. have already noticed that several causes had tended to change the dispositions of men^s minds. must not omit to men-
We
We
the principal obstacles that St. Bernard had to encounter. At the period of the second Crusade, the fervor of Christian
piety
was displayed
in
The
great object of popular devotion was to erect holy basilicas to the glory of God and the honor of the Blessed Yu-gin.
Several vast confraternities, in which there was a community of property and labor, were established, in different places,
leave a
to pay their debt of gratitude towards the Church, and to monument of their piety, during their pilgrimage
These confraternities were through this land of exile. admirably organijsed ; and men and women, rich and poor,
gentle
and simple, aspired to the honor of becoming members of these associations, to which no one was admitted
unless he first
made
350
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
of the congregation, and to assist his sick brethren, ac 3ording to the rules of Christian charity. I)othing could be
religious discipline,
by which
so
many
were united together in good works. They went, with their banner unfurled, through mountains and valleys, under the
guidance of a
this subject
priest,
in Normandy, who had seen a magnificent cathedral arise in the " Who ever before saw," says place of his modest church.
written in 1145,
the
Abbot
and
riors
delicate
of St. Pierre, " princes and powerful lords, warwomen, bowing their necks under the yoke
carry weighty loads, as if they were beasts of burthen? They are to be met in thousands, drawing one heavy machme, and carrying, to a great distance, wheat, wine, oil,
limestones,
for the
workmen
Neither
;
mountains, valleys, nor rivers can impede their progress they journey on, as the people of God in former times but the greatest wonder is, that these countless multitudes march
;
without any disorder or disturbance. They raise their voices only at a given signal, and then they sing hymns, or unplore
mercy
When
their destmation,
they halt
then they
;
watch by
ftn
their wagons,
hke
a camp
when, at and
then the priests, offering is made over the holy relics the clerks, ar.d the faithful return to their homes, greatly
edified,
walking in their order, praying and singing psalms and the afflicted."
Such was the popular expression of CathoHc piety in the twelfth century ; tending to fix the active imagination of the middle ages, while it co-operated eflBciently with the intemai
351
work of
unites
tlie spirit
men
in
one
of Christianity, which under every fonn common task. And it was thus that
those
immortal masterpieces of
of Catholicity, as monuments, to all future ages, of the power of associations which are animated by the
the
soil
spirit of religion
cost
were so many obstacles to the heralds of the holy war. It many a struggle to leave the sacred edifice incomplete,
run
all
in order to
the risks of a distant expedition, when, men could labor for the
glory of the Church, and share in the numerous indulgences granted by the Sovereign Pontiffs to the works of Christian These reasonable considerations, joined to confraternities.
the apprehensions of human prudence as to the doubtful issue of a Crusade, paralyzed all warhke enthusiasm ; and
the resolutions
the public mind.
made at Bourges lost their ascendency over But when it became known that St. Berit
to
all further reasoning was silenced, and the people only awaited the oracle of the man of God. The assembly of Yezelay had been adjourned to the holy
Bernard was to
and his written words may give us an idea ; of those burning discourses which he so frequently pronounced ; but unfortunately, no traces of them are to be
found in contemporary histories. Desirous, above all things, to lay the sure foundation which attracts heavenly graces, he addressed a letter to the
Patriarch of Jerusalem, to recommend him the virtue of humility,
consumed him
alone
fills
without which every other virtue is useless, and which the place of all the rest. This letter is full of a
&52
serious
mSTORT OF
and moving miction.
ST.
BERNARD.
it
"When
his
pleased the
Mos\
ing the salvation of the human race, He manifested His love towards men so far as to give them His uncreated Son ; and
Son bemg made man to serve mankind, called those But chose, and chose those whom He preferred. lofed was whom He this was one them specially amongst
that
whom He
the
.
and
He
Wherefore do I own mother, the Yirgin Mary. make this preamble ? To what pomt am I coming ? Listen The Lord has chosen many whom He has attentively.
.
He
has established
princes over his people ; but among all the bishops in the worid, you alone are constituted over the house of
many
David ; to you alone has been confided that blessed land where arose the fruit of life, where was bom the mystic
flower, the lUy of the valley.
' .
'
Take
off
thy shoes,'
the art
Lord once
is
said to Moses,
holy.'*
And
you, too,
who
prodigal son, and, throwing his arms around his neck, clothed him with a robe of glory ; where the Saviour of mankind,
so
mild
;
and so
wounds
loving, poured out oil and wine on our where the God of all consolation has made with
. .
holy,
sacred place, into which our divine Redeemer entered not only with water, but with water and blood ;t where he
deigned to
to follow
live
and die
Him ?
He
alone
who has
beart.
. .
358
Would you
in humility,
which alone
render you worthy of the position you occupy, and will draw upon you the favors of God ; who, albeit He is so
upon all that is most lowly in heaven and on Those ties of friendship, formed and multiplied by Divine Providence, which the saint had cultivated for many years with the most illustrious men of his time, became of
gfreat,
looks
earth."
when the Crusade was announced. He made them conduce to the success of his ministry in a wongreat importance
derful
manner
and
by the power of his words, he influenced the highest of society in many different directions, by a less visigrades He directed the consciences ble but more penetrative force.
nations
of kings and pontiffs ; and through them he was the director of his age. Amongst those souls whom he led in the ways of God, and who, more than any others, at this moment needed the light of the servant of God, we may mention the Queen of Jerusalem. Notwithstanding the distance which
separated them, Melisinda had long kept up a close correspondence with St. Bernard.* She was a widow, and a
queen-regent, and these
two
St.
on
his solicitude.
But
twelve pages to the least of the poor, and the meanest monk, sent but few lines in answer to the kings and great ones of " the world. Accept," he writes to Melisinda, "accept these few words which I send you as seeds from a distant country,
that they
may produce a
This assertion is founded on the following passage from a letter f St. Bernard to Melisinda : " I am the first to renew our former oorEp. respondenoe, in the hope of receiving a speedy answer," cclxxxix. See also the Ep. cciv., cccli., and ooclii., the only letters to b
Ac
found in the collection ; but they aflFord evidence of other letters which no longer exist. They are all in the style of a fether writing familiarly
to his spiritxial
daughtw.
854
HI?rOB7 OF
lost
ST.
BERNlItD,
You have
of a crown.
the king, your husband; and your soiij is, as yet, too young to bear the weight
with courage
Arm
;
yourself
display, as
your affairs with so much moderation and prudence that none of your subjects may have to regret the loss of theu* king, or to draw
;
woman,
all
the vigor of a
man
regulate
all
lost,
'
and
who
fills
his place.
You
will say,
;
I cannot
do this it is beyond my capacity and strength I am only a weak, timid woman, and a novice in the art of governing.' Yes, my daughter, these are real difficulties, and I know
terrific,
has almighty power to calm them ; nothing can resist His power." In another letter, he addresses her in the follow-
God
"That you may reign worthily over men, daughter, that God should reign over The Queen of the South came to Jerusalem to hear you. the wisdom of Solomon she desired to become the scholar
ing beautiful words
it is
:
necessary,
my
of that great prince, that she might learn how to govern But the master whom I propose to you is greater her states. than Solomon ^it is Jesus Christ himself, Jesus Christ cru-
in His school, in your state of widowhood, to be meek and humble of heart; and in your capacity of queen, learn to love justice and protect innocence."
cified.
Learn
It
was thus
that,
by
his letters
and
the servant of
prepared the way for the new Crusade, and neglected no endeavor to excite the zeal of both princes and people. At length the Easter festival of the year
God
1146 came round. The fame of the sacred orator had drawn immense numbers to Yezelay. The king and hia
great vassals. Queen Eleanor, and several prelates, knights, and men of all ranks, met together on the brow of a hill, Whicli had been chosen for the sitting of parliament, for wani
355
" of a largt r space. For, writes the contemporary chronicler, "neither the large church, nor the public square, nor the
castle,
could
multitudes
which flocked
(va-
together from
tarn
therefore, a
machinam, says
Odo
de Denil
wooden machine
doubtless
kmd
of
pulpit)
from
Bernard, fortified by apostolic authority amd kis own sandity, ascended the platform, having by his side the young
St.
"
who already wore his cross ; and when the heavenly orator began, according to his custom, to diffuse the dew of the Divine Word, he was interrupted by an universal cry of 'The cross ! the cross !' "
king, Louis VII.,
on high, he gave utterRaising ance to the plaintive accents of the holy city, and conjured
his voice
the French princes and the Christian people to defence of the sepulchre of Christ I
arm
!"
for the
"It
is
the will of
cried
God
it is
the will of
God
the whole
deeply,
multitude
The
king,
moved, cast himself at St. Bernard's feet, in the presence of all the people, and solemnly pledged himself to march to
the assistance of the Poly Land. Armed with the sacred of in his he salvation, turn, and declaring to the sign spoke
people the happy resolution with which God had inspired him, he convoked these brave warriors, and represented to them, in moving terms, the opprobrium and blasphemy cast
by the impious
Philistine
The words
of the pious monarch, interrupted only by his sobs, electrified all hearts. The whole of that vast audience burst into tears,
hills
The
queen, following the example of Louis YII., asked, and received from the Abbot of Clairvaux, the pilgrim's cross ;
856
HISTOBT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
leyeral bishops in their turn took the cross likewise ; aftef them an immeuse number of lords and barons crowded round
the platform, and asked to receive the cross. Among the most illustrious, history mentions the brave Robert Le Dreux^ the king's brother
;
Theodoric
d' Alsace,
Hsnry, son of the Count of Champagne; who, at an advanced age, preserved the
of youth ; the chivalrous Enguerrand de Coucy; Archambauld, Lord of Bourbon; Hugh de Lusignan, a number of other valiant warriors, knights, and men
Intrepid vigor
of low
degree.
the great
The supply of crosses was not number of pilgrims and St. Bernard
;
sufficient for
tore his
own
garments, to
make
and
rather thorn distributing these glorious symbols of Christian faith. During the following days the enthusiasm of the multitude, far
from decreasing, was more and more augmented. The holy joy of the Crusaders was rapidly diffused on all
sides,
and the influence of example contributed to the success The movement had begun in earnest,
and the Spirit of God had prevailed and triumphed. At the prospect of a new Crusade all private animosities were The Christian princes sealed their reconcihation forgotten.
by treaties of peace, and laid down their arms to reserve them for more worthy exploits. Louis YII., docile to the
advice of St. Bernard, took
all
Roger, King of Sicily, to obtain previsions and vessels he wrote to the Emperor Conrad and the Kmg of Hungary to
ask of them a free passage through Germany and Hungary ; and finally, with a solicitude becoming him as head of the
undertakmg, he sent deputies to Manuel Comnenus, Emperor of Constantmople ; and after these preliminaries had been
arranged, he fixed the time of departure for the ensuing
CTRSEZ
S5t
Bpring,
chronicle,
all
of Clairvaux, he went about preaching in in a very short tune the number of the and quarters, aders was multiplied beyond measure "
the
Abbot
all
Cm
CHAPTER XXXYI.
PERSECUTION OF THE JEWS IN GERMANY AT THE TIME OP THE CRUSADE ST. BERNARD UNDERTAKES THEIR DEFENCE-HIS LETTER TO THE PEOPLE OP GERMANY.
After
principal
in
the assembly of Y^zelay, St. Bernard visited the towns of Burgundy and the neighboring provinces,
The
and
fire
revered as a second Moses sent by heaven to lead God's people to the promised land.
He was
At Laon and
ings were held to hasten the preparations for the Crusade, and consult for the interest of the pOgruns. St. Bernard
was present at
all
or deputed ai his representatives monks who were animated with his spirit, and able to re-echo his words. At Chartres,
the assembly deliberated on the choice of a general whose prudence and sagacity should fit hun for the command of
the
whole army. "But," writes an annalist, "all will, doubtless, be astonished to learn that, by universal consent,
Abbot Bernard was promoted to the command of the expedition, to march at the head of the oJBficers and soldiers
the
358
HISTORY OF
Sr,
BERNARD
honor
but, as he
Bernard refused
this formidable
it,
waa
he referred
Pope, and besought of him not to abandon him to the " " on what grounds I know not," he writes, caprice of man.
to be the head and the prince I part, protest that I never wished, desired, or contemplated the possibility of such an event. As far as I can judge of my own strength, I do not think I
this
me
of the army.
For my
should ever reach such distant regions and, moreover, who am I, that I should range an army in order of battle, or
;
What
could be more
my profession, even though I possessed sufficient and were not wanting in experience ?" The Crustrength,
Baders,
when they gave their votes for St. Bernard, believed should thus become invulnerable, so great was the conthey fidence they reposed in him. They expected that victory
would attend their
steps, if the
to the
to share in the omnipotence of God. But he persisted in his first refusal, and the Pope approved his determination. Whilst the holy Abbot of care of a
Clairvaux was thus occupied in preaching throughout France, Germany was troubled with violent disorders, which excited
his
solicitude to the
utmost degree.
Popular enthusiasm
almost always oversteps the prescribed bounds, even when it proceeds from a good motive it is a difficult matter to
;
preserve it from the influence of human passions ; and the people, blinded by frenzy, become cruel, and call for victims
to satisfy their fury. At the time of the first Crusade, the impetuous zeal of the soldiers of the cross had been kindled against the Jews, under the pretext of not leaving at home
a distant land.
whom they were going to attack in the occasion of erery new expedition Upon and the second Crusade fresh scenes of carnage tooR place bad no sooner been announced, than a persecution of thia
;
359
Rhme.
summon
Saracens.
pathy
in
His vehement words met with a too ready symAt Cologne, all the provinces which he visited.
Mentz, Worms, Spires, and Strasbourg, the cries of death to the Jews were mingled with the war-cries of the Crusaders
;
nearly compromised by the most culpable excesses. The accounts of these disorders were sorrowful tidings to
all
the spirit of
the Gospel
Bernard
He
and,
all
owing to
sides.
The
bishops, above
Henry, the Archbishop of Mayence, sheltered them in his own house but, notwithstanding this asylum, they could
;
not
escape from the fury of their persecutors, and some were massacred at the very feet of the prelate
all
There is still extant an mterestmg chronicle, written by a contemporary Jew, who was desirous of transmitting to posterity the remembrance of the woes of Israel, and the gratitude of his nation towards St. Bernard.
thirteen years of age,
The
writer
waa
the Crusade wa,s preached, in 1146. While he was yet a child, he was present at the tragic scenes which he relates ; and his interesting narrative
so nearly connected with our present subject,
when
is
we cannot
do better than give some extracts in this place. It begins thus "I, Joshua Ben-Meir, was bom in the month Tebeth,
:
5257.
and when
my
father
by the Rhone.
From
S60
thence
inained.
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
we went
to Genoa, where
we have
ever since r
When the western people learned that the Turks had retaken Edessa, and some other provinces in Judea, formerly jonquered by the uncircumcised, Pope Eugenius sent deputies
"
and people
^What do
;
you here ? We are overwhelmed by calamities, and you are unmoved. Take courage March to the land of Israel
I
exterminate the Turks, and cut them off from the number of the nations Then the priest Bernard went from town
1
cumcised people of the east. " But this was a time of desolation and mourning for the nouse of Jacob, which was oppressed with extreme sorrow,
groans of
sop-
row proceeded from her entrails her face became pale with for a priest, named Rodolph, came to anguish and fear preach in Germany, and to mark with a particular seal all
:
those
This wicked
man
He said to them,
;
man
I'
"This
priest then
Christian dogs, and representing to them that they must first massacre the Jews, and then follow him to Palestine.
The Jews
suffered anguish, like unto that of a woman in the throes of childbirtli. They trembled and shuddered, finding
said,
is
like water,
for confessing
Thy
1
we
receive
new
chastisements
HI DEFENDS THE
then, cast us off forever ?
JEITB.
8<(1
He
remembered His covenant, and returned to his great He raised up against this cruel BeUal the wise mercies.
in France.
March
of speaking) calmed them, and said : towards Zion ; defend the tomb of our Christ I But
way
for
they are of the flesh and bones of the Messiah ; and, if you molest them, you will run the risk of touching the very apple
of
the Lord's eye
I
No
preached accordmg
the
to the truth
*
my
for
any time
Ps.
Iviii.
12
" Thus
spoke this wise man, and his words were powerful ; he was loved and respected by all. They listened to
fire
accomplish
of theu* anger was cooled, and they did not the evil they had mtended to do. The priest Bernard had not, however, received either money or ransom
all
it
was
his heart
and suggested to hkn to speak goot words for Israel. I bless Thee, my God; for we had roused Thine anger,
and Thou hast spared
this just
us,
and consoled
man, without
whom
none of our
been saved.
us
1
lives
relates
numerous
cruel
when the
persecution
bad ceased to be
obhged to leave and mountains.
their homes,
In many places, the Jews were and seek an asylum in the caves
At
in the fortress of
Cologne, the archbishop shut them up Falkenberg to save them from the pursuit
of their enemies.
Two young
Israelites,
who had
left
tht
862
castle,
HISTORT or
ST.
BERNIBD.
their wretcKed
father braved every danger to discover the murderer ; he found him and dragged him by force to the archbishop's
Ihe house, crying out with tears for justice and vengeance. and thia to lose his he died after condemned was eyes, culprit
torture.
"
May all
name
of Israel perish
a report waa the had been drowned a that Christian Buddenly spread The Jews were accused of this crime ; and the pojra river.
thus
I"
At Wurtzburg,
great numkilled
"Rabbi
writer,
"was
while at his book, together with twenty-one of his disciples* who surrounded him. young girl, their sister, was taken
and dragged, in spite of her lamentations, to the house of lits , and as she had the courage to spit upon the idol, she
was
ill-treated
left
senseless
on the
marble pavement.
She
and
stirred neither
hand nor
foot.
But, towards midnight, when she was left alone, a Christian woman who found her there, took compassion on her, ana hid her in her own house, where she healed her, and after-
father.
be
Amen."
These and many other such occurrences which daOy took felt place, troubled the holy joy and hope which St. Bernard
in the cause of the Crusade.
The servant
of
God wrote
his letter he forthwith to the Archbishop of Mentz ; and breaks forth into a torrent of indignation against the conduct " I remember well that sentence uttered of Rodolph by the
:
Lord
of
himself
It
must needs
theless,
wo
to that
The man the scandal armdhJ by neither from mission his has received speak men, nor by men. If he pretends that he haa
man
whom
is
monk
DINOUNCES PERSECUTION.
what a monk^s
to
368
3fl&ce is not to speak but to weep ; and that a hermit the whole world ought to be a prison, and the desert a paradise ; but he, on the contrary, regards his soli-
less
tude as a prison, and the world as a paradise 1 heartman I shameless man, whose foolishness is set on a
it
candlestick that
may appear
all
men
hun with
First,
he has
usurped the ministry of the Word ; secondly, he has braved the authority of the bishops ; thirdly, he has sanctioned
homicide.
.
.
What
then
them, and leading them back to God, than by immolating them at the pomt of the sword ? Does she then ask in
by incessant prayer, that the Lord our God will dehver that perfidious nation from the veil which covers its underThis prayer standing, and deprives it of the light of truth ?
vain,
of the Church would have no meaning, if she despaired of She prays, because she reclaiming infidels to the faith. knows the merciful designs of Him who returns good for
evil,
What
'
'
Slay
the
them
And
all
again,
When
of
coTne in,
And
again,
When
:
Lord buUdeth up
of
Israel.'
Tliis is what the Scriptures proclaim 'And dost Uars of the and thou make thou, prophets apostles, and renderest of no avail the treasures of Christ's mercy and love.' No, the doctrine which thou dost preach, is not thine
own
of
the doctrine of the spirit of error, of the fathei sent thee ; thou dost repeat the lessons of thy master, who was a murderer from the beginning ; who loved falsehood, and performed lying works. detestable
;
it is
lies,
who has
doctrme
and
piety.
S64
impiety,
limit
HISTORY OF
ST.
BEBNARD.
,
I and can only bring forth iniquity. myself to these words ; I cannot say any more on the
,
.
subject."
The crimes which were perpetrated in Germany were not He had to deplore the our saint's only subject of sorrow.
general condition of that country, which, for many years, had been a prey to violent political convulsions. The quarrels between the empu'e and the papacy had weakened the authority of
The implacable animosities entirely paralyzed. of the Guelphs and Ghibellines were the cause of incessant trouble to the reigning power ; and Conrad III., who had
was almost
but lately succeeded to the throne of Lotharius, could only keep the balance even by repeated concessions.
In
this state of things,
nations of
need of some powerful motive which should restore harmony, and heal all divisions, at least for a
Christendom stood
in
by summoning all to labor for one common end. The war seemed likely to insure the fulfilment of this object, holy and such was the conviction of St. Bernard. The Germans,
time,
as a nation,
had been
ment
in the first Crusade ; they of the expansive and progressive move* of civilization ; besides this, the hostile spirit which
left outside
they cherished towards the Head of the Church had deprived them of that principle of unity which is the governing power of all Christian constitutions ; from the concurrence of these
various causes arose the discords which then prevailed Germany. The empu'e was tottering under the weight of
its
ancient
power
and
its
subjects,
who were
divided
amongst themselves, vainly strove to overcome the interior and exterior obstacles which tended to the dissolution of
their national spirit, or rather
ftnd consistency.
A great
it
done
in
Germany, and
hmdered it from taking form work remained, therefore, to be was by St. Bernard that the idea
S65
He had already conferred with the it was conceived. Pope on the subject and the persecution of the Jews afforded him an opportunity of manifesting his intentions pub;
licly.
He
Germany
but before
undertaking so arduous a journey, he addressed a memorable in which, more epistle to the Christian people of Germany,
than in any other act, he exposed his views relative to the All the historians of the tune have inserted this Crusades.
important document in their annals
;
we do not
fear to pro-
"To
and Frank people of Germany and of Clairvaux, wishing they may Abbot Bavaria, Bernard, abound in the Holy Ghost. " The subject, on which I address you, relates to Jesus Christ and our common salvation. Pardon, then, the unworthiness of him who speaks to you, in consideration of Him
whose mterpreter he is. It is true, I am myself of little account but the zeal with which Christ inspires me for
;
your good is not a matter of little account. My brethren, this is an acceptable time, a time of grace and salvation The Christian world is disturbed ; the whole earth is
troubled
;
for the
God
once
of
country where
He
Heaven has begun to destroy the made himself visible to men, and
conversed
among them for more than thirty years that rendered illustrious by His miracles, consecrated by country, His blood, and vivified by the first fruits of the Resurrection
and now, because of our sins, that promised land ii ; devastated by a sacrilegious people, the enemies of the cross. Alas if we do not vigorously resist their fury, soon will the
I
Holy
and those places where the Blood of the Immaculate Lamb was shed, will be delivered up to profanation and sacrilegOi
86d
HISTORY OF
you, brave Boldiers
ST.
BERNARD.
What do
Cross
?
and you,
servants of the
Will you abandon the Holy One to the dogs, will suffer your pearls to be trampled under foot by swine 7 you How many sinners, after confessing then: sins with tears,
have visited those places to implore the Divine mercy, since the time when all impiety was banished therefrom by the
religious valor of our fathers ?
He incites his ministers, the children of envy. ruin this land and destroy all vestiges of religion. to perdition, This irreparable loss would be a subject of eternal sorrow
away with
for future ages
less
and it would stamp our own age with endopprobrium and disgrace. Sinners admire the infinite In fact, what resources and the depth of God's goodness
;
!
opportunity of salvation more worthy of Divine wisdom could he offer to Christians buried in all sorts of crimes, who have
If
He
He
would
reject
I repeat it your services, once more, think seriously on the treasure of His mercies. He disposes of events in such a manner, that He would seem
whereas
He now
claims them.
to ask your assistance solely to have an occasion of assisting you Hunself. He desires to be regarded as your debtor,
that
He may
eternal glory.
repay you, and grant you his forgiveness and Hasten, then, to display your zeal, and take
up arms
name, you whose provaliant and warriors, if I may young Renew the ranks of your soldiers, and
hitherto
banish from
armed
you agamst one another, and caused you to perish by youi own hands. What madness to stain your sword with thf
blood of your brother, and to deprive him, by one blow, of
iJDCikEdS
S6
4ie
We
is
you have dealt against your brother. No, that is not courage , it is a frenzy, a mad* it is neither magnanimity nor bravery
tory
;
Oh, what misery your YiO" under the wound which yop
ness,
like
which makes you run such risks. I offer to you, war^ nation, a more worthy occasion of fighting without
danger, of conquermg with glory, and of dying happily. blessed Blessed is he who raises the standard of the cross
I
is
he
who
all,
hastens to
arm
After
my
...
savmg
but
it
ill-treating the Jews, you ought to spare ledge. them ; you are even forbidden by the Scriptures ic banish them from your land. Hear what the Church says by the
Far from
God hath mouth of the prophet His enemies them : not, lest ing slay
:
'
inadt at
known
time
to
me cmuxrn-
any
my people forliving
and
and
memoThey are
their crimes
fore the
dispersed throughout the world, that the just punishment of may be the witness of our redemption. Where-
Church
says,
Scatter them by
thy power ;
Lord,
my
:
protector J
Psalm
"
lix.
These words have been Uterally fulfilled they are disHowpersed, humbled, and reduced to a hard servitude.
ever, they will one
day be converted, and God will look down When the fuhiess of the nations shall on them with mercy. ' have received the Gospel, then all Israel shall be saved
'
On
the other hand, if the Jewish people were exterminated, Even if they the hope of their conversion would be vam. were idolaters, they ought to be tolerated, and not massa'
flTPd
we have
magistrates te
t68
repress
BISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
and punish them. The piety of Christians resists \ < but it spares the submissive, especially those who rebellious are the depositaries of the law and the promises, whose art
;
'
the fathers,
is
and of whom
who
over
to
things, God blessed for ever J* intrust the command of the army
aU
and expe-
and all the troops should march in one rienced captains You know, doubtthat they may be better protected. body, the first Crusade. less, the adventures of Peter the Hermit
;
This
man havmg
which was intrusted to his guidance, exposed it to so many from death, either by hunger perils, that scarce one escaped
or the sword.
I should fear the same misfortune for you,
you
therefrom.
Amen."
CHAPTER XXXVII.
BT.
BERNARD GOES TO GERMANY HIS INTERVIEW WITH THE EMPl' ROR, CONRAD IILEXTRAORDINARY MANIPESTATION OP HIS GIPF OF MIRACLES.
St. Bernard produced a deep impreson the warlike people of the Rhme, who were already The numbers of the incited by the example of the French.
sion
Crusaders were everywhere increased, not only in Germany, but likewise in Hungary, England, Italy, and all the countries to which the Abbot of Clah'vaux addressed his pathetic
epistles
;
movement
ill-directed, and degenerated into merely partial agitaThe tions, where there was no head to guide and control it. saint saw the urgent necessity of applymg a remedy to thii
was
itate of
thmgs
but
it
was
difficult
nay, almost
unpossiblt
* Bouu
ix. 4, 6.
HI
TiBiTS GERiiiyr.
369
the spirit of Older and unity amongst so many heterogeneous elements. His letters to the Lombards and other
lish
In England the difficulties were greater than in terprise. any other country. Never since the invasion of the Danes had that unfortunate country suffered from miseries to be
compared to those which it endured under the government of the weak Stephen. That spirit of insubordination, which
was fermentmg
it
were,
chiefs
Korman
who had conquered the country. The people were slaves ; but the lords, intrenched in their fortresses, auned at inde pendence ; and, in contempt of law and order, they daily provoked each other to endless and sanguinary combats.
The crown
itself, which was disputed by Queen Matilda, was a brand of discord thrown amidst the passions of the populace. Such a state of affairs gave little hopes of success to
It
is
enrolled
themselves under
the
but the great mass of the nation, like the waves of the sea which surrounded then* island, was a
prey to such violent disturbances that it was not possible for the voice of religion to triumph over these obstacles. It
exhaust themselves by their own excesses ; for a crisis of social as of individual life can only be calmed when it has
kmd
of lassitude.
St.
Bernard, there-
fore, renouncing the hope of uniting all the states of Christendom in the great idea of the Crusade, fixed his eyes on
the
th^ir su-
rank among
170
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNAW).
It was, indeed, a vast project to unite together the Franki of Germany and the Franks of Gaul in the holy cause of the
However, the state of the empire appeared to offer more resources than England. The political crisis m Germany was on the decline, and the parties which still existed were less subdivided and less virulent against one another
faith.
dis-
for the misfortunes of played, moreover, a pious compassion Jerusalem, and they seemed to have long awaited a chief
who But
should be capable and worthy of leading them forth The Emperor such a chief was not to be found.
III.,
Conrad
elected
by the
influence of the
Ghibellines,
was held
Guelphs. Theu: inveterate enmities did not, it is true, lead to an open rupture ; but they cherished a mutual anunosity and a morose and threatening defiance, which was never far
from a breach of the peace. No German prince, were he Guelph or Ghibelline, would have dared to leave his hearth
for
m such a state
Bernard
felt
himself interiorly
moved
to
go amongst
these valiant Teutons, so renowned for then* bravery, that he might enroll them in the service of Christ. Doubtless he
but he foresaw that he would reap an abundant harvest was not prepared for a success surpassing that which he
;
obtained in France.
His
zeal allowed of
no delay
he took
no account of the severity of the season, nor of the fatigues of the journey, nor of his continual infirmities ; and, about
the end of the
short
time after the assembly of Chartres, he set out, accompanied by two monks of Clairvaux Godfrey, his biographer, and
Gerard.
series of labors
and
miracles, whick
BE
VTSITS
GERMANY
871
the companions of the holy monk registered day by day and which are loudly attested by contemporary historians,
which the twelfth century, with one Toice, has related for the admiration of posterity, and which even the most incredulous writers have been forced to admit, though they could not comprehend them.* Godfrey, one of the secretaries of
the illustrious abbot during this journey, comforted the
com
faithful
account of
wrought
in
Germany
its
and
this writer,
whose
admirable for
that his pen cannot suffice to relate so many things. Q' The " works miracles more easily servant of God," he write^ than we can write them."_^rom his person seemed to flow
all
{^
His breath,
The most
voice of the
man
God
whole populations,
in
a number
Among
here,
the
many
authoritative testimonies
we
% grave historian,
generally ruled by the spirit of his sect, and shows little favor to St. Bernard. " It is absolutely impossible," he says, "to doubt of the authenticity of St. Bernard's miracles {dAtrchoAM nicht in zwei/ul zu Ziehen) ; for we cannot suppose that there was
is
who
any fraud, either on the part of those who relate them, or on the part of him who worked them." The German historian, after relating, in npport of his assertion, the circumstances in which the saint restored speech to a man who had been deaf and dumb from his birth, conclude* hifl note with the following judicious remark n" If the anguish of filial
"^
piety suddenly restored speech to the dumb so^n of Croesus, who, on be- C * holding his father in peril, cried out, Man, kill not my father I' ^if (
of this man, why should not faith produce the same effect ?"_^4Luden, Gesch. der Teutschen, buch xxi., cap.
fear, I say,
loosened
t^tongue
10, vol.
i.,
nota 12.
This observation
is
just ; but
would
it
more
lucid, and, above all, more Christian, to consider the power of floan as a participauion in the Divine omnipoter'^e, and as a gift of 64
man I
8T>
HISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
In every place on his joorney ht they had witnessed. wrought the most astonishing and instantaneous cures tht
:
bhnd recovered
their lunbs
their sight
to the deaf
the paralytic received the use of ; the ; possessed, the lunatic, and the demoniac were delivered from the spirits which tormented them. But
the greatest of his miracles was the conversion of hardened hearts and the penances to which public sinners submitted.*
The Abbot of Clairvaux had proceeded at once to Mentz, where the impetuous monk Rodolph was disseminating his
doctrines.
he had
it
very
Moved to sorrow by the misfortunes of the Jews, much at heart to stop the guilty excesses of
In
this
peace had nearly proved fatal to himself the populace was implacable, and when
that the
it
became known
of Clairvaux was interfering in favor of the Jews, menacing cries were raised against him. It required no less than the authority of St. Bernard himself to quell the tumult.
Abbot
himself pubUcly to
risk of
opposing
whole which
city
this
might
rise in sedition, so
man had
acquired.
He endeavored
by meekness what bishops and magistrates had vainly endeavored to do by force. Taking him aside, he represented to him the responsibility which he was assuming to himself,
to retire to his cloister.
and, at the end of a short conference, he prevailed on him Thus, at the sole presence of St.
Bernard, the false prophet, who, by his senseless harangues, had almost compromised the noble cause of the Crusades,
disappeared from the eyes of the world.
vol. v.), being unable to refute tnem, after the manner Ot* VolThe incredulous musv need* taire, by attributing them to fanaticism have a great amount of credulity, to bel eve that fanaticism can estort
facts 80 universally attested, explains
F an.,
tight to a
878
As soon as order was restored God set out again on his journey,
his apostolic labors.
He
passed through
Worms, where he
;
number m the Christian militia but what he had most at heart was to rejoin the emperor, who was at that time holding his court in the town of Frankfort-on
enrolled a great
Maine.
He
III.
have forgotten the services which he had rendered to him when, thirteen years before, he had
and the
He
a
therefore hoped,
He
;
met with a
but nothing
of the
distinguished reception at Frankfort, it is true seemed to justify the hope he had conceived.
None
German
princes
showed
themselves
;
favorably
disposed
towards the holy expedition and the emperor himself, with whom St. Bernard had several couferemces on the subject, so
far
doubtful an enterprise.
from furthermg his views, refused to take any share in so On one occasion, indeed, the em-
peror replied very drily to the repeated instances of the saint, and told him that nothing was farther from his mind than the thought of a Crusade. The Abbot of Clairvaux
did not press the point any more, and miidly answered that he
would
on
he careful not to
this subject.
From
Yaux
;
thmk
of returning to Clair-
come to a sad termination. " Besides," adds the chronicler, ** he was impatient to see his own once more for the mother
could not forget the children she
He
year, had been separated from their mother^s was, therefore, anxious to hasten his departure ;
lest
874
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD.
eryant of God, made every effort to detain him for soios In reality, Conrad was very nneasy in consciunce ; days.
he had never opened his mind to St. Bernard, and he was careful not to manifest any sentiments which might betray his wavering resolutions ; but while he thus endeavored to
deceive himself, his agitation betrayed his secret uneasmess, and his c(mduct towards the herald of the Crusade, and the
marks of singular veneration which he pubHcly bestowed on him, proved that if he had no sympathy for his mission, he
had, at
way.
to see
Oiie
a religious fear of raismg any obstacles in his day an immense crowd gathered in the church the face of the man of God. He had suddenly
least,
cured a paralytic old man, who was known throughout tho town for his bountiful alms-deeds ; and this nuracle, as well
many others no less striking, had been proclaimed by the chimes of the bells and the admiring cries of the multitude. The concourse was so great that no power could
as
restrain the
crowds of the people, who rushed impetuously St. Bernard, closely surrounded on
the emperor, throwing off his mantle, raised him up in his powerful arms, and borne him away to a place of safety.*
in
the emperor's train, was desirous of trying in person the He effect of the power of the Abbot of Clau-vaux
brought to him a blind and lame child, whose cure seemed to him utterly unpossible. The thaumaturgus blessed him,
and, at the
limbs,
and
were opened.
chronicler relates, that the emperor laid the saint at the feet of a miraculous statue of the Blessed Virgin, and that the statue, with " Ben ft sweet voice, swd these words, in the Eoman language veniftt mi fra Bemarde !" To which the saint replied, " Gran merce, mi Da
r
37&
We may conceive the sensation caused by these wonders, and the weight which they added to the mission of hun who performed them. The people demanded the cross but the
;
princes,
who were
happy result of his labors however, like the wise husbandman, he thought it would be well to quit for a tune the field he had cultivated, and to leave the care of ripemng the
seeds of the
word
to the
He
pre-
pared, therefore, to leave Frankfort, and to return to Clairvaux, whither he was called by the desu-es and the remem-
the estly entreated him to edify his vast diocese by preaching Crusade. For a long time Bernard resisted, but, at length,
owrcjomt by the coTistamcy of
my Lord of Constance, he embarked with him, and sailed up the Rhine. They stopped at the towns and principal villages on the banks of the river,
and reaped everywhere the most abundant fruits from the preaching of the cross. This voyage was a kind of triumnumerous train followed St. Bernard. phal march. Besides the two monks of Clairvaux, who acted as secretaries,
we were several companions," says one of them : first, the Bishop of Constance, and hie chaplain, Everhard ; the Abbot Baldwm and Frovinus, an old monk of Einsieldelen,
afterwards superior of the convent of Engellery, at XJnterTalten then, three secular priests, Phihp, Archdeacon of
;
"
Liege,
at
Franco, with
whom was
It is from the said Philip we have these details. He says, in th " I entered the school of Christ, Ibllowing ardent and simple words Mid bade adieu to th world for ever, and for ever and evw."
376
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Cologne, who became one of the most illustrious men of th order of Citeaux. This latter was on his way to Rome,
saint,
his miracles.
From
him.
that time he attached himself to him, and never left The company consisted of eleven venerable persons
;
besides
in
Bernard and every evening they used to note down, an itinerary journal, the glorious actions which they had But they were unable to write down all "/<?r witnessed.
:
ii
to recount all
we
/luve seen/^
says one
of tbem; *^but if we were silent the stones would cry outP Philip of Clairvaux sent to the Archbishop of Bheims an
and
extract from his journal, which has been preserved mtact ; this curious document, together with many others of
that time, will enable the reader
to follow the apostolic
journeys of St. Bernard, step by step. In the latter days of November, 1146, the holy company Bet out on their way to Constance. They spent Sunday, the
1st
at Friburg, in Brisgau.
December, at Kintzingen, and the two following days Let us hear the travellers speak
The first day, at Friburg, there were ''Bishop Hermann. some mean only poor, people, who asked for the cross. The
holy abbot
made
also be opened,
richest
us pray that the eyes of the rich might and hardly was this prayer ended, when the
n/iy,
came
to receive the
own hand.
likewise, the
manner in which
he restored sight to a bhnd old man; virtue had gone out of our holy father; not from him, however, but from the
feria, after
hun a
who had a
withered hand
her on the spot. " I saw him restore sight to a child deaf aiMi Philip.
dumb from
his birth.
37 1
Hermann.
I myself spoke
moment
#hen the sign of the cross was made on him, and he heard and answered me distinctly.
"
A mother
brought us her
;
little
bhnd child ; the sign of the cross restored his sight but what was the mother's surprise when the child stretched out nis hand to an apple which I offered to him
"Eberhard.
lytic
infirm
and para-
man, who could only drag himself along, recommended himself to the holy abbot. Hardly had the latter touched
him with
his stick, in
man
felt
him-
self cured,
and went away, leaping for joy."* These miracles, which are noted down simply and
shortly,
one after another, by ocular witnesses, would form too large a volume, if we w^ere to place them under the eyes of our
readers.
selves
They were
were unable to
them
all.
At Donmgen,
near
Rheinfeld, where they spent the first Sunday of Advent, Bernard cured, in one day, nine blind persons, ten who were
on the
fol
the
number of
his
was
still
greater.
At
last,
December, they arrived at Constance. The bells of the town announced the wonders which attended the footsteps
of the "
man
" Christ uns gnade,^^ ran to Ky^ie meet him, giving glory to Jesus Christ. All praised God, and not one mouth was silent in the midst of these joyful
eleison
.'"
of God. "
The
Kyrie eldsonP^
manifestations.
The preaching
have become a mere accessory in this universal agitation. He spoke or, rather, he showed himself and, at the mere
first
378
burst into tears
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
his
hearers
becamt
Thus, a long docile, each town was not only unnecessary, but even impossible, on account of the tumultuous concourse of people
his appeal.
humble and
stay in
who
still
his miracles.
At
Constance, as at
His garments were Frankfort, he was nearly suffocated. torn off, piecemeal, to make crosses, which he fovmd very
inconvenimt
clothes.
;
It
was about
Bernard converted a
young knight, of heaven, cmd full of vice and iniquity. Henry he had received a good education
;
who was
and as he
spoke
French and Germcm, he attached himself to the saint, to serve as his interpreter. This remarkable conversion pro-
duced a no
less
over in silence.
St.
riding alongside of
Bernard, on the highway, when he was, all at once, followed by one of his former squu-es, who attacked hun with
jeers
and
insults.
He was a man
versity,
and
servant of God, and cried out with all his might, "Go, follow the devil ; and may the devil take you I" While the
travellers thus continued theu* journey
his blessing to
a crippled woman,
whom
feet.
madman
fell
woman
back, as if struck by an unfleen hand, and lay stretched on the earth, without life or motion. His former master, horrified at his awful death,
suddenly cured, he
and implored him to take on this had Satan which jilled with malediction. soul, pity "It \B on your account," he said, "it is because he bla*
HIS
MUUCLSS
IN 6ERMANT.
319
phemed against you, that this terrible judgmeDt has befallen him I" "God forbid," replied the saint, "that any one should die on my account I" Then, retracing his steps, ho
leaned over the corpse of the squire, and slowly recited the "Hold Lord's prayer, his voice tremulous with emotion.
him by the head," he said, to the numerous standers-by. Then, anouiting him with his spittle, which he frequently used as if it were a medicinal remedy, he cried out, "In the
name
I"
And
he repeated,
"
In the name
of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, may God restore thee to life I" These words, uttered in a solemn
tone, amidst the
hardly ceased, At the sight of this corpse, erect, and restored to heaven. the life, people manifested their admiration and surprise by The saint, meanwhile, addressed him as loud acclamations.
follows
:
"Now," he
said,
"what
"
My father,
mand," replied the squire, who was completely changed. He took the cross, and enrolled Mmself in the ranks of the Crusaders.
been dead.
One of those present asked him if he had really "I was dead," he answered, "and I heard the
sentence of
my condemnation
now be
for
if
interposed, I should
in hell."
deeply struck than the rest by this extraordinary event, etbed to Clairvaux, where he made his profession ; and he
grace which he had received, and the wonderful prodigy which he had witnessed.
Shortly after, St. Bernard
left
Bishop
Hermann, who gave his place to a holy priest, named Wolkemar. They passed through Zurich, Rheuifelden,
Basle, and Winterthur, and arrived at Strasburg on th
880
HISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
eve of the fourtli Sunday of Advent, the 22d of December, 1146. The miracles ceased not during this memorable jour-
ney
"We
and, to use the expression of one of his biographers, should fear not to say enough if we only mentioned
his miracles
;
some of
and to
tell less
if
we
he was preachmg at Strasand other tie German burg cities, it is a wonderful fact that, though he only spoke in Latin or in the Frank Ian
related a great many.
When
guage, he was understood by all, and his words moved even those who knew no other tongue than German." The monk
Godfrey says that these persons heard him with so much the affection, as they were moved and touched by the very power of his words far more than by the interpretation of a
more
learned man,
this
who explained his discourses. They proved by the compunction with which they struck their breasts and shed tears.
Meanwhile, the day of our Lord's nativity drew near and the emperor had chosen that festival to hold a general diet in the city of Spires. St. Bernard had promised to be
;
He left Strasburg the evening of Sunday, December 22d, and arrived at Spires on the following Tuesday, being the vigil of Christmas. The mhabitants
present at the assembly.
of the different towns and villages stood on the banks of the river, waiting with impatience for the vessel to pass by,
that they might receive the blessing of the man of God, and lay the sick at his feet. All had their share in the
God
His entrance into the imperial city of Spires has been by a number of contemporaiy chroniclers. "The bishop, the clergy, and the citizens came to meet him with
described
great solemnity, with crosses and banners and the members of the various guilds, carr3ring the badges of their profesaon. He was conducted through the city, amid the sound of belli
;
881
and sacred hymns, to the door of the cathedral, where the emperor and the German princes received him with all the
honor due to the Pope's envoy.
rj* The
procession advanced from the great door of the cathedral to the choir, chanting joyfully the hymn to the
Salve Regina.^ Bernard, conducted by the emperor hunself, walked in the middle of the procession, surrounded by crowds of people, and deeply moved on be-
Queen of Heaven,
holding the interior of the majestic basilica ; but when the last accents of the hymn to the Virgin had died away through
the sacred
aisles, after
these words,
'
FUium tuum
'
nobis post
by
!
his en-
demens
O pia
Virgo Maria P'^ These sweet and tender words, which flowed spontaneously from St. Bernard's heart, were thenceforth added to the
O didcis
hymn "Salve
They
are
;
Regtna,^^
and completed
its
sublime poetry.
still
sung
appointed
Salve Regina^^ in is solemnly chanted every day in the honor of St. year, Bernard ; and this custom still exists. Plates of brass were
seasons
laid
"
down
in the
steps of the
man
pavement of the church, to marli the footof God to posterity, and the places where
he so touchingly implored the demmcy, the mercy, and the sweetTuess of the Blessed Virgin Mary. ~1
The
numerous^
Spires, "because,"
"
the multitude
of the curious was too great, and the glory of God does not manifest itself in favor of curiosity.'' The assembly at the diet was very large. The greater number of the bishops and
princes
met together to
382
and
HISTORY OP ST BERNARD.
in this august assembly the ceremony of the emperor's coronation increased the splendor Df the religious solemnity. But St. Bernard was deeply concerned at the dispositions
of these great personages. Their irreconcilable animosities rendered them deaf to any overtures of peace ; and the ser
vant of
ances,
God
and to make
cause of the
Holy Sepulchre.
which he proved that his and apostolic remonstrances which he addressed to the prmcea and to the monarch himself, could overcome their supineness.
way to the But neither the miracles by mission was divine, nor the ardent
Conrad, however, appeared to be more moved than the rest; after Christmas, on the feast of St. John the
Evangelist, after he had been urgently pressed by the Abbot of Clairvaux, he announced that he would dehberate on the
matter in his council, and that, on the following day, he would give a definitive reply.
This was a
critical
moment.
An
incalculable
number
of
events depended on the emperor's resolution. Bernard, howHe was celebrating ever, did not wait until the next day. the Holy Sacrifice, in the presence of the court and a great
rations which
number of the faithful, when, yielding to one of those inspihad so often produced great effects, he turned
towards the people, and pronounced an impassioned discourse on the woes of the Holy Land. In the midst of his oration, he addressed himself directly to the emperor ; he spoke to
him, not as to a sovereign, hut as to a simjple iTidividual; he reminded him of the gifts he had received, and of the graces
and,
full
" in a voice of thunder, O man 1 \bat wilt thou answer in the day of judgment ?" . Conrad, struck with terror, and pierced, as it were, even to the marrow of
his bones, interrupted the preacher,
cross
HIS MIRACLES IN
of Christ.
GERMANY
388
God
" I acknowledge," he said, with tears, that has given me many graces ; and, with the help of the
"
Lord, I will not render myself unworthy of them." And h " I am added, ready to devote my life to the Lord, and to go whithersoever he calls me 1" The people, deeply moved,
and astonished at
this extraordmary scene, raised their hands to heaven, and filled the basilica with prolonged acclamations the whole city was in a state of excitement and
;
commotion
cries of joy
off,
the people's
and enthusiasm.
and taking the eacred banner from the altar, he placed it in the emperor's hands, and adorned him with the glorious symbol of the God of hosts. At the same moment, all the princes, with one
recollected after this miracle of miracles,
sunultaneous impulse, knelt at the feet of the holy preacher, and asked for the pilgrim's cross. Foremost amongst them
was the young Frederic of Suabia, the emperor's nephew, and the heir to the throne, afterwards so famous under the
title
of Barbarossa.
entreaties of his
He
took the
father.
The barons and knights aged followed the of their And not only lords. eagerly example " the grandees, but the people les mtnues gens et les gem du gramd air " were desirous to receive the cross from St.
and
Bernard's hands.
this
No
obstacle,
;
no consideration could
resist
unanimous unpulse the great interest of the Crusade had absorbed all other interests and feelings. Men differing
in age, rank, education,
in the
same cause, and enrolled themselves under the same standard and the diet which had been convoked to remedy the
;
wrongs of Germany, was now only occupied in discussing the fate of Jerusalem. This sudden change was looked upon by
all
Hope
and
54
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
life,
and
taste the
conso
Wonderful to
tell,"
robbers and brigands came together from parts to do penance, and vowed that they would shed " their blood for Christ I" Every reasonable man," adds the historian, "who witnessed the changes wrought in them,
rary chronicler,
all
"
says a contempo-
beheld the finger of God, and was not the less astonished I" Oh, who shall work such a desired revolution at the pre*
sent time
?
Who
one
common work
Who
which can
break the bonds of egotism, enlargmg the mind and kindling in the heart of man the fire of a living and life-giving faith ?
CHAPTER XXXYIII
CONTINUATION OP HIS JOURNEY AND HIS MIRACLESRETURN TO CLAIRVAUX.
mission upon which St. Bernard had come into Ger was almost concluded. The wonderful success of his many, work, the sudden and rapid advance which it had made from
its
its
The
very beginning, the happy transformation which had been blessed result, demonstrate, at once, the tendency of the
and the power of the man who gave it this direction. Such a power, whatever be its origin, never produces such great results as when it is apphed to real necessities, and is
age,
spirit
i
of the
men
themselves, amidst
whom
manifests
itself,
Under
Abbot
of Clair-
vaux was
certain
truly the
between
certain facts a reciprocal influence, a flux and reflux of life, an action and a reaction, the history of
men and
which would verify the phenomenon of which we speak. Then men receive from their age the spirit and the power by
385
its
it
cha-
Hence these great characters, who appear like hierogljrphics to mark the great eDOchs of humanity. History shows them to us, in the centre of their sphere of action, as indefatigable as those robust
artisans,
who, by turns,
stir
fire
whose
brightness glares
upon
and who
it
invigo-
Thus we may explain the irresistible ascendancy which St. Bernard exercised over his conHo gave the impulse to the Crusades and temporaries. the movement, begun in France, was propagated, from prorates their nervous Umbs.
;
vince to province, across the vast countries of Germany, from the Rhine to the Danube ; all Europe was shaken, and Asia
trembled to
its
modern world
arise.
dable armies, at the head of which he had placed the King of France and the Emperor of Germany. But the eagle
and in the vast glance of this great man knew no bounds horizon which it embraced, he did not forget the secondary interests which the heads of the crusading armies had gene;
God.
left
The departure of
Conrad and
his
companions
it
in
arms
Germany
in
a very
afibrded to the Guelphs a favorable ; occasion for attempting to gain the crown. One means
dangerous situation
alone would prevent new troubles ; it was to enroll in the Christian army even such amongst the sovereigns of Germany as had not taken any part in the diet of Spires. St.
it
succeeded like
all his
other
886
HISTORY OF ST
BERNARD.
He wrote to Bavaria, where the principal undertakings. heads of the Guelphs were assembled ; and his letters, brought and read by the Abbot Adam of Eberach, produced
m that place
vuere.
cross
;
the same effect as his preaching had done elseof Bavaria, took the
example, amongst others the celebrated Otho of Frismgen, a grave and determined man, who, in Germany, had at first
in
countries
in the
Duke of Bohemia Odoacer, Amadius, Duke of Turin Bernard, Marquis of Styria Count of Carinthia Conrad, Duke of Zaeringen and a crowd of chiefs and noblemen took the vow to fight against The Saxons themselves, those brave warriors, the infidels.
;
;
by the dynasty of Conrad, enrolled themselves under the sacred banner and of the cross all all, both parties reposed under the shadow
; ;
"A
" Otho of Frisingen, and not only was there no more war, but it would have been accounted a crime to carry anna
publicly."
St. Bernard spent the remainder of this memorable year at Spires, and did not resume his journey till the 4th of At his departure, the emperor, the princes, January, 1141.
and the numerous battahons of Crusaders, crowded around him to hear his words for the last tune, and to pay him theu* last homage. The sacred orator addressed to them a touch" " and his words,'' says the historian, 2?cr ing exhortation ; not hvman, but divine." The brilUant train set forth, ad-
vancing with difficulty on account of the immense crowd which poured through the streets and along the road. Sud-
mS
381
denly a poor, crippled child threw himself before the saint, and asked his blessing ; at the same moment this child arose,
perfectly cured.
At the sight of this mh-acle, the emperor, at the side of the saint, and the whole aston;
this
is
"
It
homage, turned towards Conrad, and said to hun ; on your account that this cure has been worked, that
God
is
takmg
is
pleasing to
Him."
leave of the
Bernard, and his travelling companions, having taken German court, again descended the Rhine to
and Flanders.
Cologne, in order to return into France by way of Belgium They rested the Monday (5th January) at
whom we
shall
God
passed,
he renewed his preaching and his miracles ; but the edification he gave was nowhere greater than at Cologne. He
knew
impatience of this city to receive him ; and in escape the honors which they were preparing for But him, he made his entrance secretly, in the evening.
tb'5
order
t<
fled
from
it
;"
ar-
had hardly spread through the city, when the inhabitants flocked in crowds to his dwelling, and testified their tumul" tuous rejoicing throughout the whole night. The crowd was so close and so intohrabh^'' says one of his disciples, " that the He holy abbot could not go out of his house.
remained at a window, from which he blessed the people ; nd it was only by means of a ladder placed in the street
588
that
msTORY OF
st.
Bernard.
whom
they were able to present to his notice the Sick, he restored to health. They dared not open th*
doors on account of the multitude which besieged the enAs to myself," says the monk Gerard, "being trance.
desirous of entering the house, I could not do so in any way ; and from nine in the morning till evening, I remamed in the
street,
without being able to reach either the door or the The ladder, so completely was every avenue stopped up."
writer abandons the attempt to enumerate the
number of
miracles which took place at Cologne during the four days (from the 9th to the 12th of January) they remained in the
city.
On
Cathedral
the Sunday, St. Bernard celebrated Mass in the he was preparing to break the bread of the ;
all,
Word,
he preached in the
market place, where his discourses electrified the multitude. woman who had Wonderful cures distinguished this day,
lost
her reason througli the bitter grief she had felt at the death of her husband, was brought to him, and regained, on
touching the holy man of God, her senses, and her power of Another woman, subject to nervous convulsions, remind.
ceived her health at the
moment he
woman of quality who, from the holy sign of the cross. age of fifteen, had been deprived of the use of an eye, had
lost all
kind of remedy
" were not miracles," says one of the secretaries, done in the dark, but in full day, in public, before the whole
world, that all the world might glorify God, who is wonderBut these sudden cures were but the ful tn Ihs saints.
same day,
God
performed in a
all
less visible
manner.
He
displayed, indeed,
KS
389
sickness
His apostles of casting out evil spirits and healing every and infirmity ;* but his miracles, like those of the
apostles, as also those of Jesus Christ himself,
always con-
tained something symbolical, and were but the visible signs of another species of miracle, of an operation more interior,
in the soul.
The
conversion of hearts, the triumph of light over darkness, of peace over vengeance, of justice over iniquity, of Christian
piety over stupid indifference
;
eflfecta
arising from his indefatigable mstructions. [The inveterate evils which had, for a long time, destroyed pubUc morals, had produced a blmdness, a deafness, a fatal
paralysis far
more fatal than any physical evil ; and it was to these deep wounds that he applied all the unction of his words. Hence arose the disposition which characterized a great number of the Crusaders. The lively and vehement
reaction which they manifested in favor of the holy war, arose from the deep want ever experienced by the spirit of
penance; for true penitence always feels itself irresistibly drawn towards some work of expiation/^^^t this warlike
enterprise, so suited to the temper of the multitude, and to the popular impetuosity, could not have the same attraction for certam tender souls which, having returned to God, felt
tnemselves drawn to an interior hfe, and yearned for more ^for a life of recollection and of prayer peaceful labors
These souls attached themselves more closely to St. Bernard and in the neighborhood of Cologne alone, there were,
;
who abandoned
the
whom
retired to Clairvaux.
in-
creasing
jTnliers,
The Abbot of Clauraux, accompanied by an always number 3f his disciples, went from Cologne
to
Mutt
x.1.
890
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD,
holy mysteries in the Chapel of Charlemagne, tht rmst oeU " hrated the whole Ronum world. Aix," says the Chaplain " with an agreeable abode but is Eberhard, great naivete,
more so
house ment,
soul.
The
prosperity of
the merchants
I
their death
if
I say not this for their ruin, but for their amendat any time some of them should read these words ;
" which happened at Aix-la-Chapelle We were at the altar of the Blessed Virgin, and I attended upon the reveblessed her, and she
great, that
rend father,
when a young girl was presented to him he was healed but the crowd was so we were obliged to retire.*'
; ;
We
"
will
the travellers
Gerard.
To-day
doubled.
The crowd
and the
fields
girl,
are as
full
as the towns.
The
charita-
and
instantly, in our
and speech.
We
steps,
when a man,
quite as
Until the occurrence of this miracle, I was Godfrey. before him, and preceded the crowd ; but, struck with the
exclamations which every
made
Juliers,
"Abbot Campigiibs. ^When we arrived in the evening at a city which owed its origin to Julius Caesar, we foond a crippled woman prostrate on the steps of the church
391
The
saint,
and raised
great faith.
*'
much
the
more
ease,
on account of her
Gerard.
^This
a woman of considerable importance, the niece of the Count of Juliers, who was entirely deprived of the use of one eye,
and could see very little with the other, so that she could not walk without a guide, was instantaneously healed, by
the simple sign of the cross. This miracle, like the others, was the subject of pubhc rejoicing ; and the people incessantly cried
'
out,
Christ
uns gnade
!'
Christe
eleison
I'
During the whole route, at Maestricht, at Liege, Mons, Yalenciennes, Cambray, and Vaucelles, innumerable miracles
gave token of the passing of the man of God. On leaving Liege, a young man, blind from his bu*th, was presented to him. His eyes were not only sightless,^ say two of the
'
chroniclers,
The
saint
but they were dried up, and the lids close shut. opened them, touched them with his venerable
The happy fingers, and immediately restored their sight. young man, at seeing the light, which he had never known,
felt
light, I see
an extraordinary emotion. 'I see,* cried he, *I see men, and I see creatures with hair.' Then he
'
O clapped his hands, and, jumpmg for joy, exclaimed, my God, now I shall never again hurt my feet against the
stones.'
"
desire which continhim to back to his nally urged go cloister, thought that he Ji to some ought stay Flanders, where he knew, like days St. Paul at Ephesus, that a great door was opened to him.
The words which he addressed to the population of this province had not the Crusade alone for the object they were principally directed to morals and doctrine, which the new heretics took pains to pervert. The man of God erected a
;
and
casting his
nd
392
tfUo the stream
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD.
of
the age, he
of mm, of
letters
amd nobk
Amongst
the latter
circumstances of which claim a place here. Arnulph of Majorca was one of the most wealthy and He was living in highly-esteemed nobles of his province.
pleasure and magnificence, when, on St. Bernard's journey, he listened to a sermon which caused the veil to fall from
Touched with grace, and penetrated even to the depths of his soul, he resolved immediately, in imitation of
his eyes.
the apostles, to quit his house, his relatives, his country, and to follow Jesus Christ. But his family was numerous ; his
sons and his brothers, his fortune and the honor of his house,
claimed his presence. He thought it best, therefore, to conceal his design till a favorable time, and not confide to any one, not even to St. Bernard, the secret of his conscience.
Time
from
rolled on,
and Arnulph, instead of disengaging himself engaged himself still more deeply in
them, until one day he saw a poor shepherd arrive at his who threw himself at his feet, saying to him " My lord, I pray you, by the love of Jesus Christ, to take me to
door,
:
Clairvaux to save
itruck
my soul
and yours."
by
voice which urged him, and, arranging his affairs, he set off
for
He
Clairvaux with the shepherd whom God had sent to him. there found the saint, and revealed to him, with an effu-
life. But, to his great of God, after having exhorted him to persevere in the Order of Citeaux, only imposed on him, as a
man
" penance, a triple recital of the Lord's prayer. What, most charitable father," exclaimed the penitent, " do you
not take seriously the conversion of so unworthy a sinner 7 Assuredly, ten years of fasting and mortification would not
fuffice a
expiation of
my
crimes,
HIS JOURNEY
three Paters."
393
better that I should be so presumptuous," repUed Arnulph ; " but I entreat you not to spare me in this world, that I may find
The saint replied, " Do you think you know, than I do, what is needful for you ?" " God forbid
"Do as I bid you," the future life." happiness rephed the father, "and do it with confidence; and, when you shall have laid down the burden of the flesh, you shall
my
ascend to God without any other." The tone of inspiration and authority with which he spoke, calmed the conscience of Arnulph, and gained him profound peace. But, soon
after, this soldier
of
bowels
holy
and the
illness
the the
oils
his greatest
and when the sick man seemed ready to die, he was heard to cry out suddenly, " Lord Jesus, yes, all Thy words are true ;" he repeated these words so often, that one
Bufferings,
it
to deluium.
"
what I
feel is
not delirium
but I
attest,
whole heart, that every word of the Lord Jesus is He has promised in His Gospel, to infallibly accomplished. those who renounce all thmgs to follow Him, a hundredfold
with
my
in this world,
and eternal
life
in the
world to come.
Well,
I feel at this
moment
consolations which I experience surpass, a hundredfold, all the joys of the world which I have left." After saying these words, he fell asleep, sweetly and peacefully, in the Lord.
Thus were the words of the holy abbot accomplished, ** When you shall have laid down the burden of the flesh,
you
the
shall depart to
St.
till
towards
end of the month of January. He passed through Laon and Rheims ; and arrived, on the 2d of February,
the day of the Purification, at Chalons-sur-Mame.
eity
In
this
394
BISTORT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
III.,
ambassadors of Conrad
who
all,
at the
news of
his arrival,
him
ary,
in in triumph.
He
went to meet him, and brought left Chalons on the 4th of Febru;
and, on the
following
Thursday, the 6th of February, he reached his peaceful Like a well-watered tree, which bears retreat of Clairvaux.
fruit at all seasons,
fruits.
His return
Thirty postulants had folthroughout lowed him from the neighborhood of Cologne to Clairvanx ;
his blessed abode.
thirty
more had
either set
off,
hnmediately.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
ASSEMBLY AT ETAMPESARRIVAL OP POPE EUGENIUS III. IN FRANOI DEPARTURE OF THE CRUSADERS FOR THE HOLY LAND.
had scarcely passed a, fortnight or three weeks when he was obliged to quit his retreat once to assist at a general assembly of the barons and premore, lates of the kingdom, which the king had convoked at
saint
The
at Clairvaux,
Etampes. The opening of the Parliament took place on Louis le Jeune presided at it in the 16th February, 1147.
person, and presented the different questions upon which he called for the attention and dehberation of the counsellors.
and
the great
lit
countenance was
thrill
hard to describe.
The
first
ambassador!
A6SEMBLT AT ETAMPES.
of Conrad, and the deputies of Geisa,
895
King of Hungary,
containing the most emphatic protestations of friendship, in reply to the notification which the King of France had
made
to
The
Godfrey, Bishop of Langres, takmg compassion the upon king, who was blushmg to hear such flattering words, and unable to endure the never-ending phrases of the
" reader and the interpreter, interrupted them, saying My brethren, be pleased not to say so much of the glory, of the virtues, and of the wisdom of the king ; he knows all this,
:
French.
and so do we
plainly,
too.
more
briefly
and more
The next morning the assembly was employed in planning the best route by which to reach Palestine. The ambassadors of Roger, King of Sicily, proposed to go by sea, as being the surest and only way by which the whole multitude
of the Crusaders could be transported, in a few weeks, to the ports of Syria. They strongly insisted on the advantages of this course, and described, vividly, the numerous
inconveniences, the perils, and inevitable vicissitudes of a
long journey through barbarous countries but the principal motive which they alleged to support their opmions, was the remembrance of the old treason of the Greeks, and their
;
first
Crusade.
;
The wisdom of
and, whether the
these Norman-Sicilians
was not
relished
hatred which they bore to the Greeks, their aggressors, made their evidence suspected, or that navigation offered no attraction to the adventurous spirit of the French warriors,
the advice of Roger, unfortunately, did not prevail in the It was determined that they should descend tha M8embly
396
maroRT of
st.
bbrnarq.
land.
Talley of the Danube, in order to reach Constantinople b^ On the thu-d day, the lords and prelates, solely occu-
pied with the interests of France, took mto consideration the care of the kingdom, and its administration during the " absence of the kmg After the Abbot Bernard," says " the chronicle, had made his prayer, to invoke the light of
the Holy Spirit, the Louis, restraining his power by the fear of God, as was his usual custom, gave up the choice of the guardians of the kingdom to the prelates and the
Kmg
These retired to dehberate, and returned, after a short delay, having decided what was best to, be done.
nobles.
and, pointing with his finger ; the Count WiUiam of Nevers, he * Behold the two swords which we have chosen ; they said, are sufficient.' "
to the
"
This double
all
choice,'*
"
would
have pleased
the world,
two
elected
made a vow
he retired to the
Remonstrances, no less vehement, were needed to determine the Abbot Suger to assume a dignity which presented to him a burden rather than an honor. He refused it a long
tune
but, at length, vanquished by the entreaties of the and the orders of the Po^pe himself, he accepted the king, and the disinterestedness and noble integrity "with regency which he administered the affairs of the kingdom are known
;
;
havmg beei arranged, the meet* ing separated, and nothing was thought of but preparations for departure. On all sides, in France, in Germany, in
tlmost
all
was
in
8KC0in> MISSION TO
Bjotion.
OERHANT
397
nothing to be
Nothing was to be seen on all sides but Crusaders met but pilgruns and troubadours. The heroic
times seemed to be agam revived; a kmd of disgrace attached to those knights who had not taken the cross ; wid, in token of ridicule, they had a spindle and distaff sent
to them.
Etampes,
Immediately after the dissolution of the parliament of St. Bernard hastened to return to Clairvaux. He
;
Holy Land,
and, perhaps, even more serious motives, of which historians furnish us with no clear idea, obliged him to take a second journey mto Germany. He was at Treves on the 21th of
March
annalists mention
and, during the preparations for the Crusade, the him as being sometunes at Frankfort,
sometimes at Metz, at Toul, afterwards at Troyes, at Sens, at Auxerre, at Tonnerre, and at different other places. This
second mission
affair,
may have been occasioned by a deep political which a party of German Crusaders had to accom-
will speak of this hereafter ; and we will give plish. However the basis upon which we found our conjecture. this may be, this second journey was neither less useful nor
less rich in miracles
We
ous to be related, and astonishing conversions, were effected daily, and were the abiding traces left by the man of God
on every part of his course. ** In these circumstances," says the old historian of the " in order that there might not be wanting to this Crusade,
holy enterprise either blessmg or grace, the
Roman Pontiff Eugenius, arrived in France, and came to celebrate the Pasque of our Lord in the Church of the blessed Denis.**
It was in the spring of the same year, 11 4 T, that Eugenius III. desired to behoid, with his own eyes, the great things which St. Bernard had done ; and besides this first
tootdve,
89S
HWrORT OP
ST.
BBRNARD.
army was fighting the infidels in tht Abbot of Clairvaux for the ex-
the west.
The
arrival of the
Pope
in
and produced general rejoicing. The king, accompanied with a brilliant court, went to meet him as far as Dijon. As soon as he perceived him, he got off his horse, and threw himself at the feet of the Pontiff,
siasm of the
Crusaders,
wwnng
in the
them with
of
kisses
and
tears.
Eugenius accepted,
name
Him
whose place he
he praised the hereditary virtues of the illustrious family of Hugh Capet, and spoke in suitable terms of the piety of Henry, the king's brother, who, some time previously, had embraced the monastic state at Clairvaux, and distinguished
himself amongst the other monks,
life.*
by the
austerity of his
After
this discourse,
which exceedingly
the Supreme Pontiff and the King of France took the road to St. Denis, where they arrived on the vigil of Easter. This solemnity was celebrated in the royal basihca, with all
the magnificence which was suitable to the presence of the august Pontiff and the whole court of France. The principal chiefs of the
and
amidst them were distinguished, with just pride, the Grand Master of the Templars, and one hundred and thirty Knights
of the Temple, who had come from Jerusalem to join themselves to the expedition of Louis YII. This great day was
one of feasting and holy consolation, both to the king and the men-at-arms. All graces seemed poured forth upon that
army
*
must here recall to our minds tkat Eugeuius had been 0thr with Frino Henry, a Bimple monk at Clairvavz.
We
899
the worlds
essing
in
her bosom
the
Vicar of tht
Savwwr of
the heir of the Prince of the Apostles.* But the journey of the Pope, and his long residence at
Paris, occasioned great expenses, which fell pruicipally upon the richest reUgious communities, whence arose some murmurs ; and several Galilean ecclesiastics, not satisfied with
secretly protesting against the Pontifical court, aroused an
opposition against it, which was manifested by a remarkable adventure. "Eugenius III.," relates the Abbot Alberia, " having gone procession, on the day of the great Litany,
Genevieve, the clerks of this church, armed with rods, fell upon the Pope's followers, who were well beaten; and the blood flowed in the street."
to St.
guilty persons very severely, and the of St. Genevieve replaced clergy by regular canons from But St. Victor, to whom this ancient church was granted.
they fomented
new
disorders every day, even coming during the night and makmg an uproar to disturb the office of matins. They conill that the minister Suger, to put a stop to their proceedings, threatened them severely, that he wovld have their eyes put out, and thdr limbs torn in pieces.
ducted themselves so
but they would not of piety were, no doubt, considerable To create new resources, suffice to maintain a great army. Louis VII. borrowed money, raised imposts, established
taxes,
The Emperor Conrad sent, several times, deputations to prevail Q the Pope to come into Germany. The last, composed of thre illostrious prelates, entreate i him to consent at least to an interview with the Emperor, at S^Jasburg ; but the Pontiff never accepted hii la ntation, for raoiui of which history givts varioui intrprettioiw
400
Pontiff.
mSTORT OF
ST.
BERNAKD,
nobility
were
far
similar circumstances.
territorial
wealth
because, livmg without care for the future, they habitually expended the whole of their revenues.
We
this
embarrassment
rise,
itself,
and the
expedients to which
civilization,
gave
contributed to modern
money, to the
liberty found
by means of the franchises granted, in return for Most grievous viocitizens and commons.
;
but
political
;
and,
human
progress,
it
was bought
by dear experience.
Whilst these events were passing,
all
from Metz to Ratisbonne were successively covered with innumerable crowds of pilgrims. The first-mentioned of
had been pointed out as the place of reunion for the Crusaders of France ; the second was the rendezvous for
these cities
those of Germany. It had been agreed between the two a that certain interval should be left between the sovereigns,
all
in
were to take the same road, they might not faU of procurmg provisions, in the long extent of country which they would
have to pass over. Conrad opened the march in the month of May ; Louis the Young was to follow him in the latter
end of June.
head of
before placing himself at the caused to be acknowledged, as his successor on the throne, his son, Prince Henry, stCl a child, who, without any opposition, was crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle.
his troops,
The emperor,
This important event, so providentially brought about, completed the joy of the head of the dynasty of HohenBtaufifeu,
his family.
The
young king was not yet of age to rule his guardians and the regents of the kingdom were the venerable Archbishop
401
Mayence and the Abbot of Corby, who administered the states with a fidelity equal to that of the Abbot After these wise arrangements had been made, ConSuger.
Germanic
rad, surrounded by his brothers,
Otho of Frisengen and of and his Bavaria, nephew, Frederic of Suabia. as Henry well as by the most illustrious princes of the south of Ger-
in great pomp to Ratisbonne, where an army awaited them, such as had never been seen in former ages. The elite of the Teutonic knights, covered with shming armor, of gold or steel, made seventy thousand shmmg
many, came
"
;
the earth," says an old historian, their horses; and on the vast
of
silver, cuirasses,
dkections, floated ensigns and colors, casques and bucklers." Besides the companiei
of nobles, the
army drew
after
it
of foot soldiers, and pilgruns of both sexes, and so great number that, according to the expression of Otho of Frisengen, the fleets were not enough to transport them, and the plains were not large enough to muster the battalions.
The army,
across
led by the emperor in person, directed its course Hungary, Thrace, and Bulgaria, towards Constantinople, where it was to encamp until the arrival of the French Crusaders.
Louis YII., the Most Christian King, had prepared himthe expedition by Christian deeds. As the moment of departure drew on, he was anxious to propitiate God, "and preformed," says the chronicle, "such things as are
self for
He went, accompanied only by praiseworthy and exceUmt." two servants, into all the rehgious houses, and amongst the
poor, lavishmg bounty
his abnega-
his
own
After having thus satisfied the devotion of his heart, he vent with his barons to the Church of St Denis, whither
402
his
HISTORY OF ST BERNARD
mother, Queen Adelaide, had preceded hint, with hii The wife, Eleonora, and a numerous crowd of Crusaders.
royal basilica displayed, on this occasion, its most magnificent Amongst the living reminiscences which pre-
ornaments.
sented themselves to the eyes of the pious monarch, were he venerated images of the heroes of the first Crusade
Godfrey de Bouillon, Raynaud, Tancred, Baldwin, Hugh de Vermandois, and their immortal companions shone forth in the windows of the sanctuary, upon which were represented
the fight of Antioch, the battles of Dorligum and Ascalon, and the taking of Jerusalem.
Pope Eugenius, the Abbot Suger, and the clergy received King Louis in the choir, who, prostrating himself very humbly on the ground, remained long in adoration. Then the Pope and the abbot opened a httle golden door and drew out, with great solemnity, a silver coffer, which contained the relics of the blessed martyr, that the king might contemplate and kiss him whom he cherished in his heart,
intrepid.
the oriflamme from the altar, he received from the hands of the Pontiff the pilgrim's staff and scrip, with the apostoUc
benediction.
into the
At last,
monk's
all
" I shall not attempt," followed by then* prayers and tears. continues the chronicler, "to describe this touching scene.
The
king's
to die of grief."
To paint so painful a scene would be an undertaking as wild as unpossible. The French army was neither less It counted nor less magnificent than the Teutonic. powerful
oldier
not less than 100,000 Crasaders, not reckoning the foot and the pilgrims unable to bear arms. This form>
403
dablc mass encamped at Metz, in the Imperial States ; thence it moved towards the east. But, directly after his departure, Louis YII. seemed to discover the mistake he had
young queen, Eleonora, with him. This authorized the knights to have their wives with eiample them and these having also chambermaids not very modesty Other elements of disorder caused great scandal in the army.
in taking the
;
made
Effeminate troubadours,
speculators, adventurers, drawn thither by a desire of gain or pleasure, travelled in the rear of the regular troops, greedy to devour their substance
iences.
There was no longer time to obviate all these inconvenOdo de Deuil relates that Louis YII. made, indeed,
''but,"
adds he,
forgotten them; for, as they were necer carried into execution, I have not retained them in my mind."
after the
"
I have
The army set forth on the 29th June, 1141 two months German expedition. It passed through Worms, Wurzburg, Ratisbonne, where it crossed the Danube fol;
by
sea.
This
long delayed by unfavorable events, landed on the coast of Portugal, where a brilliant passage at arms confleet,
we shall see hereafter, the formation of this new kingdom, which had been recently founded by a count
solidated, as
of Burgundy.*
of
During the whole course of their journey, for a distance 500 leagues, the two land armies had been received with
It
was not
so
when they
irards, in great
Portugal, BuccesBively occupied by the Arabs and the Moors, aftormeasure, lost in the kingdom of Castile, was raised t
bj Alphonso af Burgundy.
404
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
" touched on the Greek territory. Everywhere else,** sayi Odo de Deuil, "the mhabitants sold us honestly what we
required,
and we dwelt
in the midst of
them
in the
most
peaceful manner.
selves
The Greeks, on
mode
of supplying us with provisions could not be agreeable to a crowd of pilgrims, who, tired of suflfering hunger in a
fertile country, began to obtain by violence and pillage what was necessary to their existence." "The Greek emperor," adds the same chronicle, "regarded the western warriors as
men of iron, whose eyes darted flames, and who shed of blood with as much indifference as water."
The malice of the Greek
schismatics,
torrenta
which were fermenting in the bosom of the Catholic armies, were but too certain presages of the terrible issue of this
expedition.
Our
object
is
Cnssade.
We
on
this side
must abide with the holy monk of Clairvaux the sea, where episodes of a different kind, and
his life,
demand our
correct
atten
we
we may give a
summary
CHAPTER
iT.
XL.
TWO ILLUSTRIOUS
OOUNCIL OF RHEIMS.
Asia, the Sovereign Pontiff was probing the internal wounds of the Church, and devoting himself to the work of The progress of errof Bxpelling from it the poison of heresy.
40*
had been already repressed at its source by the glories of the holy war, and heresy appeared to have lost the sort of
charm which
it
lovers of novelty,
and
persed by the winds, were preparing to brmg forth, at some future time, the fruits of bitterness and death.
The Pope, according to the ancient tradition of Rome, was in no hurry either to condemn or to punish he desired
;
to penetrate to the
he waited
till
bottom of things and for this purpose the noise of arms should have ceased in the
;
He
settled himself,
for
St.
Treves,
which arrested
was not long before he joined him. The first point their attention was the doctrine of the Bishop
This prelate, already
very far
advanced
in age,
but
still
members of his clergy had the rationalism which he introduced mto the theoloby The Pope perceived the pernicious errors gical schools.
of Abelard, had scandalized certain
this
judgment to the following year, that he might leave the accused time to complete his defence, and to place his
doctrine before the eyes of a more numerous council. Another case, which could not so well endure delay, It pressed very much upon the holy Abbot of Clairvaux.
was the
terrible ravages
in the
southern provinces of France. have given an account in another place of the doctrines of this heresiarch, and the disturbance occasioned by him both
We
406
In churches
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNABD
Eugenius judged
it fitting
and individual
souls.
Bishop of
Bishop of
first de.
Ostia,
The
latter
had
He
blamed him
for
ing of the
all
set before
"
The
infection
in
which
man
conclusion, *'is
has spread through your states," said he, felt throughout the whole world. This
charity draws me. pluck up out of the Church this poisonous plant, with its multiphed offshoots. It is true, mme is but a feeble arm fof
we are about to undertake own accord duty calls me^ Perhaps it may be granted to me tc
;
such a work, but I reckon upon the help of the holy bishops with whom I come, and on the powerful aid which I expect rrom you. At the head of the prelates to whom the Holy See has confided the care of this important affair, is to be
seen the illustrious Cardinal Bishop of Ostia, celebrated in Israel for the victories which he has obtained over the ene
mies of God.
It belongs to
power which God has given you, a mission which has no other object but your salvation and that of your subjects.^'
to the
this recommendation, and, perhaps, the will of Count Hildephonsus, the legate was against good The great madisrespectfully received by the city of Albi. of the inhabitants of this jority unhappy city had rejected,
Notwithstanding
dogma
greater part of the teaching of the Church ; and not only did they refuse to assist at the holy sacrifice which the Cardinal celebrated in their Cathedral, but they evinced,
cries
4dt
Bee
caused them, and the hatred they bore to the Holy " These people," writes Godfrey, welcomed him with he braying of asses, and the sounds of drums ; there were
"
St.
Bernard arrived
"
cardinal.
extraordinary blessing which followed wherever he went, the Albigenses flocked in such great numbers to the church, that
the vast nave could scarcely contain them." The servant of God, after the celebration of the holy mysteries, mounted
the pulpit to preach the Gospel to the multitude of erring men, who were all impatient to hear him. He spoke tc them with the greatest gentleness, and explained to them,
article
by
article,
which the innovators had rejected or corrupted. Not satisfied with rectifying their doctrinal errors, and enlightening
he applied himself especially to the task of gaining their hearts, according to the recommendation of the " prophet,* Speak to the heart of Jerusalem ;" and this
their minds,
method was the more easy to him, because his gracious words poured forth from an inexhaustible fountain of love.
A power
mates a
at once sweet and penetrating, a balsam of life, insinuated itself into the depths of their rebellious hearts,
and softened
field
their minds, like a soft shower which re-aniof corn, and sinks into the dried stems, recalling
sap and life. The people who heard him showed, by their tears, the feeling which he had kindled within them ; and
the discourse
was
scarcely finished,
when
truth triumphed.
"Enter, "
then,
into yourselves,"
said
Church
and,
lMd.
Zl.
408
that
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD
are those
who hare
receired toe
word
in
them
hand to heaven
faith.**
At
thii
moment
and
testified,
by a shont
The monk Godfrey, who regarded this touching scene as one of the most marvellous efifects of the words of the man
of God, describes several other miracles wrought at Bergerac, at Calais, at Yertefeuille, at Toulouse, and at other The most remarkable fact is that which happened places. " at the town of Sarlat, in P^rigord. In this place," says " the chronicler, after having preached to the obstmate heretics, they presented loaves to him to bless, as he was in the habit of doing elsewhere. When he had done this here he
' You will acknowledge pronounced the following words that we announce the truth to you, and that the innovatora
:
it, if
by eating
this bread.'
too positively spoken, the pious Godfrey, Bishop of Chartres, became alarmed, and added : Which means that they shall
be cured
* they eat with a lively faith.' No,' rephed the ' in a tone which saint, bespoke perfect confidence, I say that aU those who shall eat of this bread shall be healed of their
if
sickness, that
they
may
recognize,
by
our
words are according to God and His lous bread produced numberless cures
and
iniolerable honors of
Bernard was obliged to change his route to escape from the which he was the object."
At
dant
Toulouse the
effects of his
less
abun-
but the excitement and the demonstrations of respect ; which were showered upon him by the inhabitants of thig
1i
town, nearly brought a serious illness upon St. Bernard. It said that his hands were many times so covered with kissef
40
and
deli-
no longer give
the benediction.
But
a victim ever ready for the sacrifice, he labored for the salvation of his brethren at the expense of his own
and, like
life.
It
is
this
fitted him, In
What
said he one
day
"
profit
Thou
power." He pronounced these words as he left the house of the Canons Regular of Toulouse, where an ecclesiastic, named Bernard, was ill, having been struck with
tokens of
Thy
palsy.
old
Df the
But the man of God had hardly passed the threshdoor when the dying man sprang from his bed,
after St.
and ran
effusion of
The Canons,
cries,
alarmed at
this
because
they believed that the soul, having already left the body, this was a phamtom; but the truth reassured them. The noise
of this miracle attracted so
saint hid himselt in a
all
cell,
many
and
the approaches to it. As to the ecclesiastic who been so marvellously healed," adds a contemporary,
"
had
"he
;
went to Clairvaux, where he assumed the religious habit and, some time after, the reverend father sent him into Languedoc, near Toulouse, to place him at the head of the monastery of Yaldeau, which he still governs."
St.
fled from town to town ; they purievery place, the churches which he had defiled, re-established the ancient worship, and pulled up all the " tares in the field of the Church. Jesus Christ be blessed J
of the
fied,
The
faith
triumphs
infidelitv is
confounded
Piety
ia
gla
410
rified
HISTORY OF
ST.
BBRNIRD.
Such are the expressions by ; impiety is destroyed." which the gratitude of contemporaries is expressed. No doubt scandals were sown in the earth, sooner or later to
burst forth
;
but how many souls were saved from the wreck This glorioua I
mission being terminated, he quitted the provinces which he had evangehzed, leaving to them in writing the substance
His letter to the inhabitants " of Toulouse displays his apostolic vigilance. I repeat to " said to reearnest recommendations never he, you,^' my
of his verbal communications.
ceive
Holy
'How shall they preach unless they are sent?^ bishop. These foreign preachers bear the appearBays the apostle.
ance of piety, but they possess not its spirit. They conceal their poison under the appearance of sweetness and they have the art to wrap up their profane novelties in divine
;
language.
poison
it
yoq
which
conceals.*'
The
cell
at Clairvaux was, at
all times,
man
of God.
It
and there he held the most intimate communications with the Eternal Source of Life. He was able at last to
all his toils, and enjoy some rest, whilst the awaiting opening of the council of Rheims. But his was never free from labor ; and from the first moment repose
that he found himself in the midst of his children, he began again to nourish them with his loving spirit, and to shed
over them the sweetest outpourings of his apostolic soul. It was about this time *^^hat his renown drew upon him two
visits,
of which historians
make
particular mention.
came
tt
VISIT
i'k
hii
country, through the conquest which had been made from the Moors of a very important fortress, by the issistance of
the Crusaders.
He
made a
vow
that
if
he gained
tery of the order of Clairvaux in his dominions ; and he asked for some of his monks to make this foundation. The
annalist of Citeaux relates that the
seen
St.
Bernard
in
a dream,
This astonishing message greatly moved the desert of Clairvaux and the monks, penetrated with gratitude, intoned
;
Devm together in thanksgiving. But St. Bernard did not comply with the desu-es of the King of Portugal he until he had consulted God in the depths of his heart
the Te
;
then wrote a letter to the monarch, containing, amongst " have been informed of others, these words of prophecy
:
We
the great devotion which has suggested to you the desu-e of founding a monastery. Tliis obUges me to send you some
of the children
whom
may
afford
you
the means of effecting your pious intentions. And, with to the which to are found, I respect monastery you going
must
tell
you
that, as long as
will also
;
it is
preserved in
its
mtegrity,
your kingdom
remain
in its integrity
under the
but when anything is taken away from your crown will be transferred to others. I pray the Saviour of the world to protect your Highness and the illustrious queen, your consort, and to bless you in your posterity,
that you
may
possession of your dominions and estates." It is observed by historians that this prediction
was
ac-
complished in 1580, after the death of King Sebastian, who The Cardinal fell in Africa in a battle against the Moors.
Henry,
hein
412
and being the
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNABD,
first to violate the integrity of the monastery, he lost his crown, which passed from the race of Burgundy to the house of Castille.*
bore
But Prince Peter of Portugal, upon leaving Clairvaux, away in his bosom the arrow of God's Spuit which
Heavenly desires arose within him, and banished every other thought. Neither the splendor of royal greatness, nor the applauses which were bestowed on
pierced his soul.
his valor,
had power
left
Bernard had
the
Ten years after this visit, under foot all those things trod magnanimous prince which shine most brightly in the eyes of men, and, renouncon
vows, and died the death of the saints, in the year 1165. second visit, not less memorable, was that of the King
The following is the relation of the exordium The Kmg of Sardinia a very noble and powerful prince named Gurnard, made a pilgrimage to Tours, to visit the tomb of the glorious Saint Martin. The
of Sardinia. of Citeaux
"
reputation of Bernard attracted this prince to Clairvaux, to behold the man of whom he heard such great thmgs. The
servant of
God
all
due to him
but, as he could not refrain from casting the ; net of the Gospel, he conversed with this prince on the great
historians of Citeaux give some curious details about this monwhich was founded at Alcobaca, eighteen miles from Lisbon. The number of monks, which was at first very small, afterwards increased to more than a thousand, who succeeded each other night and day in chanting, without in'-.erruption, the praises of God. In the end this house was bo greatly enriched by roya^ bounty, that the abbot possessed at last thirty towas, among which were four seaports ; he exercised civil and criminal jurisdiction over more than six thousand Tassals. "It is but too well known," adds a pious historian, "how Injurious such great wealth and temporal advantages are to those who.
The
astery,
by their profession, are obliged to lead a life of poverty, hidden, ua Kaowa, penitential, wa disenga^d from the cares of the world."
T18IT
413
fit
affair
God.
These words appeared to fall barren to the earth, without producing any visible effect ; but the saint, at the moment that Gumard took leave of him, blessed hun, and said these " I have prayed our Lord, with many entreaties, for words : your conversion but I have not yet been heard. I leave you
;
go away now, but know that you will come back some day." The king was much struck with this prediction, and had very
to
Boon no other thought but to devote himself to God. He resisted for a long time the power which drew him to Clair-
vaux
but
it.
this
power was
divine,
yield to
thought of nothing but following his vocation. The peace of the cloister had more charms for him than the vain
pleasures of the earth ; the humility of Clairvaux seemed more precious than the grandeur of the world ; the society of the pious servant of God, more sweet than that of his
troop of courtiers ; in short, heaven seemed to him more dtsiv' " But God, who determined to make of able them Sardinia. " this prince a new man," adds the historian of Citeaux, did not take from hun altogether the noble and loyal heart
which had, as
were, a natural inclination towards royalty only changed the object ; he made him comprehend that there is nothing greater or more worthy of a noble
it ^he
heart than to serve God, and that true greatness consists in governing the world and our own passions." Gumard was
forty
when he
retired to Clairvaux,
and died
in
a happy old
Meanwhile, the council which the Supreme Pontiff had convoked at Rheims, began its labors the 22d March, 1148. At this time, Bernard went
to take his seat in the midst of the prelates
composed the venerable assembly. Suger, the regent of France, was one of them, as well as eighteen cardinals and
414
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
in
The council was first occupied The Breton Eon de I'Etoile was
himself out to the credulous
brought before
it,
who gave
failed
The Pope judged him more unhappy disciples. ;han guilty, and confided him to the vigilance of Suger, who caused him to be shut up for the rest of his days but his
crowd of
;
disciples,
more
excitable
himself,
re-
in preaching, as if
cuted apostles. They did not relinquish their undertaking until several of them had been given over to the flames by the secular arm.
The
la Porree.
This bishop brought several large volumes to by the authority of the Fathers. He
had
to the Divinity
so that he
made a
distinction
between the
Divmity and God. The Pope, tired of his long lectures^ pressed him to explain himself upon this serious subject
and Bernard, to avoid these subtle discussions, brought forward the orthodox propositions which condemned those of
Gilbert.
"
You
St. Bernard,
the saint
"that the Divinity is God." " Yes," replied " that is my belief and let it be written with a
;
pen of steel, and a style of adamant !" The energy of Bernard put a stop to these recriminations and at the clear;
The
and
council
condemned the
showed himself so humbly submissive to the judgment of the Church, that the Pope sent him back in peace to his diocese, where he ended his life in an edifying
this bishop
manner
After
415
of ecclesiastical discipline, which had been put in force under the preceding Pontiffs. The zeal of the Abbot of Clairvaux
was redoubled on this occasion, and developed with intense ardor, when the question became that of the correction of
the disorders and vices which had been introduced into the
clergy.
It
was
to these irregu-
and, above
all,
holy orders were conferred, that he attributed the greatest " evils of the Church. It appears," said he, in a work pub* " lished upon this subject, that the Church has been widely
extended, and that the most sacred order of the clergy haa The number of the brethren has
infinity
;
but,
my God
though Thou
hast augmented the number. Thou hast not augmented tae joy ; for it would seem that the merits of men have diminished in proportion as then*
They
run indiscriminately into holy orders, and they embrace, without respect or consideration, that spiritual ministry
which
is
fearful
even to angels."
these abuses, which the saint regarded as one of the most fatal sources of heresy, schism, and corruption of manners, there
To remedy
ment of the old and holy rules of the clerical hfe. Some The great and salutary reforms had been already realized. Council of Rheims established new laws, and gave to the ancient ones a greater sanction and authority and thus was
;
effected,
gradually and without disturbance, that internal and external purification of the Church which was generally demanded' ^y the conscience of Christendom.
Il6
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
CHAPTER
XLI.
OOUNCIL OP TREVES-EXAMINATION OP THE REVELATIONS OP STi HILDEGARDEHISTORY OP THIS PROPHETES&-HER RELATIONS WITH ST. BERNARDGLANCE AT HER WRITINGS.
cardinals to
Adalberon, Archbishop of Treves, invited the Pope and come to his metropolitan residence, making them
tompomy for
the generous offer of defrayiTig the expenses of that venerable three iruynih^ space. Eugenius III. accepted the
proposal, and went, with St. Bernard and a great number of the Fathers of the Council, to Treves, where they continued the important investigations which tney had com-
menced at Rheims.
in
bright luminary shone at this time a monastery on the banks of the Rhine. St. Hildegarde, Abbess of the Benedictines of Mount St. Ruppert, near
Bingen, was announcing future events with the energetic accents of a prophet ; and from the depths of her cell sent forth warnings and terrible threats against the pastors and
then* flocks.
The picture of lamentable novelty in the twelfth century. theu* attacks upon the Church
disorders
was
certainly
no
by
similar descriptions
and
heresy and schism had always supported themselves by the proud pretence of healing the evils of Christendom, and
The words
of St.
Hildegarde, then, coincided, so far, with the clamors cf the heretics, as well as with the sighs of truly Christian souls.
But her language, though more severe and the rest, drew on her the serious attention
powers, because
it
proceeded from a deep humility, which is She evidently from a true love of the Church. inseparable with far from rashly and from on Bpoke high authority
;
BKTELATI0N3 OF
ST.
HILDEGARDK.
411
She wrote
to the
"
Pope
Holy Spirit suggests to me those things which I Father of pilgrims, glorious Father, should say to you. shield of the Church, primitive root of the spouse of bright . . . Jesus Christ I you, the first named after Christ,
am, the
holding the place I pray you, give St. precepts to the masters, and rules to the disciples."* Hildegarde was, for a long time, regarded as a visionary a
flock,
give,
She dared not manifest outwardly simple and tunid virgin. the gifts with which her soul was enriched ; but, at length,
from the midst of her weakness, God caused to flow forth so bright a light, that contempt was followed by glory, and the
princes of the earth, as well as the Pontiffs of the Church,
received, with trembling, her reprimands
and her
counsels.
have seen, in one of the preceding chapters, that St Bernard, when on his journey into Germany, turned out of
his
We
road to pay a visit to the celebrated prophetess. The following is the account of this mterview in the chronicle of
Trithemius:
"From
scended to the neighborhood of Bingen, where Hildegarde, a very devout nun, and virgin of Jesus Christ, had built a
qnote these texts, amongst a thousand others, only to place in contrast with those garbled quotations by which modern times have been much deceived. Protestantism, to legitimatize its birth in Bome degree, has adopted to itself the patronage, not only of all the
We
them
ancient heresiarchs, but of all those great spirits of the middle age, yrho deplored the evils of their time and the weakness of the heads of
the Church
; and, therefore, put St. Hildegarde, and even St. Bernard, in requisition, to justify their recriminations against the Papacy and the Catholic Hierarchy. hear that very recently there has ap-
We
peared, in Germany, a book written in this hostile spirit. For thin reason, we have studied, to greater extent, the works of St. Hildegarde, truly desirous that this labor may contribute to enlighten th feithfol upon anti-Catholic publications.
18*
418
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
monastery upon Mount St. Ruppert. It is said that he held very sweet conversation with her upon future blessedness ;
for this servant of
to
Bernard by her
her.
writr
bis
On
customary ceremonies, he asked for the writings of the abbess he read them with the i^eatest care, as they were very differently judged by divers
;
some reverencing what they did not understand, persons and others condemning them as mere reveries. But Berions
nard, edified beyond description, turned towards his compan' These revelations,' said he, * are not the work of :
man
and no mortal
will
renewed in
How-
many
persons, both
learned and ignorant, religious and secular, daily pierced the soul of the handmaid of God, by repeating that her visions were only hallucinations of the brain, or deceits of the
devil.
Upon surprised, my
sins
which, St. Bernard repUed : Let us not be brother, that those who are sleeping in their
follies,
'
since
the apostle affirms that the animal man cannot comprehend the things of the spirit. Yes, certainly, those who lie buried
God
but
if
As
to those who believe those visions to be the suggestions of the devil, they show that they have no deep knowledge of divine contemplation ; they are like those who said of our
Christ that
He
through the power of Beelzebub.' Then, addressmg Hilde* For you, my daughter, fear not garde herself, he said
:
the words of men, since you have God for your protector. Their vain discourses will vanish like straw ; but the word of
God
will
endure for
ever.'
"
REVELATIONS OF
ST.
HILDEGARDE.
419
The
clironicler
;
esting interview
adds nothing to the relation of this interbut the letters which remain to us from
St Bernard and St. Hildegarde give us an idea of the intimate relation which, from this time, arose between these
two great
a holy union, a strict and intimate bond, souls which does not require length of time for its formation, for It is the result of a radical it is knit in the eternal world.
;
uniformity, a fundamental analogy, which characterizes certam Christian souls, and produces sympathies far more
attractive
affections.
fruits
make
ble
;
This kind of union is the rare and inestimable " of the sublime prayer of Jesus Christ : Father, them one." Once formed, these unions are indissolu^
My
know each
such souls they are contracted at the first meeting each understand each love other, other, other,
;
without any
human motive
and
this love is
consummated
existed
in Jesus Christ.
spiritual
bond which
between Hildegarde and the holy Abbot of Clah'vaux. can judge of it from some passages in their letters.
reply in great haste," writes the servant of
We
"
words of
aflTection and pious tenderness the overwhelming nature of my affairs would allow of my Blessed be God who heaps His graces saying more to you. upon you. But remember always, my dear daughter, that
;
His grace
is
a gratuitous
gift,
for
God
resists
the
And, for the rest, proud, and gives grace to the humble.' what instructions, what lessons do you expect from me?
Have you
by His unction
discovers to
not an interior master, who teaches you all things I know that the light of the Holy Spirit ?
which
is
you the secrets of Heaven, reveals to you that above the reach of common men. When, then,
fou are before God, in those holy seasons when your spirit {s united t^) His, remember me and all those with whom I
420
HISTORY OF
spiritually united."
ST.
BERNARD,
am
St. Hildegarde had given him, in which she thus expresses herself " You who, with a sublime zeal and Venerable Father an ardent love of God Jesus Christ, enroll your soldiers
:
under the banner of the Holy Cross. . . I am strongly actuated by the light which I see in spirit, and which does
.
not
make
itself
my
body.
It
is
years,
my father,
me
since
account of
my
my
kind and
very dear father, I place myself in your soul pray for me, for I have much to suffer when I do not declare what I see
and hear. I conjure you, by the glory of our heavenly Father, and by His admirable Word, and by the sweet unction of the Spirit of Truth, and by the holy Word by which all creation speaks, and by the Word Himself by
...
whom
ther
the world
sent
who
His
was made, and by the majesty of the FaWord into the bosom of a virgin, where
honey, uniting
itself
He
took
flesh, like
to a ray of light
entreat
you
to receive
my
not until you have arrived at God by the aspirations of your soul ; for God himself wills that it should be so. Adieu I
Adieu
Be strong and vigorous in your holy combat." Hfe of St. Hildegarde affords matter for curious observation to psychologists. From her infancy, almost from
1
The
the cradle, she lisped the divine mysteries, and seemed, by a wondrous organization, to be able to contemplate, at the
same
rents, the
and earthly reaUties. Her par Count Hildebert and the pious Matilda, could not mistake the signs of precocious holiness which appeared in
tune, spu-itual beings
their child.
They devoted her to Jesus Christ and, when young girl entered a monastery,
;
ascetic hfe
REYL^AflONS OF
the blessed Judith,
oiother,
8T,
Hnj)EGARDB.
421
who
Her
teaching
was as simple as her life she learned to chant the Psalms and to accompany them on the psaltery. And thus did the
first
half of her life flow sweetly along ; and she would never have been distinguished from many other souls unknown to the world, but precious before God, if she had not been
placed, against her will,
to the
light
Church.
will let her
But we
"
Wisdom
teaches
me
and commands
me
manner of
:
my
vision.
O
my
From
the
moment of
gave
his breath of
life,
me
existence in the
womb
of
my
mother,
He
seed of this faculty of vision. . . :^e Incarnation, 1100, the doctrine of the apostles began to grow cold among Christians, and among the ministers of the
Spirit.
At
this time
me
to
God.
years old, my soul trembled at a bright light which appeared to me. I did not then know how to speak of these
visions,
attained
which were continually renewed to me, until I had my fifteenth year and I wrote several of them with
;
trembling ; for I was surprised sometimes to see outwardly those things which I had never till then beheld but within
myself
if
Then I suffered great perplexity, things, she replied no. nd I dared not name these visions to anybody."
The
saint then relates her long sufferings, her singular
maladies, which
left
much that once preparations were begun for her interment. The fear of man, and a tunid modesty, prevented her fron
kvealing the dictates of the
Holy
Spirit.
4S2
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
" was I forty-two years and seven months old," says she, " when suddenly a bright ray, coming from heaven with a it kinriazzling splendor, pierced through my whole body
;
dled
my
soul,
illuminated
my
brain and
;
my
bosom, and
me without burning me or rather, sweetly burned without consuming me. I felt myself instantly invested with a new light I understood Holy Scripture the
sweetly consumed
; ;
I comprehended the Psalms, the Gospels, and the other books of the Old and New Testaments ; I contemplated the mysteries in them, without, how;
me
ever,
kuowmg
this
From
moment
renewed
and transformed, yielded herself to the voice of God, who commanded her to write her revelations. She obeyed, and
instantly her maladies disappeared,
and she arose from hei " and the marrow of my bones, bed of suffering my veins, were filled again with strength and vigor." Miraculously set free from all fear, she pubhshed, like the prophet Jonas,
the warnings and judgments of the Most High. But the Bishop of Mayence, not knowmg whether these
extraordinary revelations were to be received or rejected, thought it best to submit them to the wisdom of the SovePontiff then presidmg at the Council of Treves Eugenius III examined this matter with the greatest care ; he wished to judge himself of the writings of this celebrated " and it was the Abbot of of blessed
reign
abbess
Clau*vaux,
"who
prevailed with
Pope not to permit so wonderful a light to be hidden under a bushel." He sent several examiners to the convent,
where the virgin dwelt, to make
light to assist
the
inquiries,
without noise or
Pope's judgment.
When
they returned
BEVELATIONS OF
St. Hildegarde,
himself, deeply
ST.
HILDEGARDZ.
423
The Pope
in full council.
upon himself
this light,
moved, several times took the office of reader and all the fathers, admiring the puriiy of
gave glory, with hmrt avd mouth, to the Creator of so many marvels. The books which were presented to
the council formed a large collection, entitled,
"
Scivias
of GodJ^* This title is, perhaps, one of those mystic words which were pecuHar to the saint, and which darted sometimes out
the
Know
Ways
unknown tongue. Many of untranslatable but they are this nature are expressions ;
of her soul, like the words of an
by their exceeding radical energy, and by the of their It would be very difficult to formation. harmony convey an idea of the style of St. Hildegarde. To be able
distinguished to appreciate them,
we need some
shines in
so fruitful.
it
the expression as well as in the depth of the meaning. Thus, as Hildegarde herself declares, she saw in her soul the reflection of heavenly things, whilst the eyes of her
body were
contemplating the same truths in the phenomena of earth. Thence arose an admirable symbohsm, between the facts of
nature and the divine mysteries, which forms the characteristic peculiarity of her teaching. It is a simultaneous intuition into the
two
worlds, seized
upon
in their reciprocal
and
The world, the universe, are interpenetrating relation. she dives down with a transparent to the eyes of the saint
;
and to the
oertral point where finite objects touched upon the infinite. Besides the visions which relate to the state of the Church,
and
its
future destinies
visions
in
from which we
the
will
some
remarkable
fragments
next
chapter
qucte ihM
of God.**
4S4
^'Sdvias^^ contains
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD,
many
treatises
life,
upon certain parts of medicine and natural science, The greater the virtues of plants and the elements. upon part of these treatises, or visions, follow a general view into
a number of different apphcations. She insists upon tlu primary matter of aU things, on primitive creation, uncreated
calls
According to
the Virgin, the Church," afford the with this primitive creature. She also gives "Vesture of God" to the humanity of the and she says, " the eternal God had, from idea (in His knowledge), this vesture, which
of
the
name
of the
;
uncreated Son
eternity, in
is
His
the humanity
of
His Son."
The
"
following
:"
are
visions
Scivias
ravishing
"I saw a very pure atmosphere, in which I heard a harmony of musical sounds; harmonies of joy
;
from on high, concords of different voices, concerts of souls, which are vigorously persevering in the love of truth sighs and transports of souls who regain these joys after a fall ;
exhortations of virtues, urging each other to the salvation of This vision is people, delivered from the yoke of Satan." " called The Symphony of the Virgin Mary." She addresses herself, in these words, to the august Queen of Angels :
mto Thee
"Resplendent pearl, the pure light of heaven is poured The Father, by His only Word, first created
I
But
m Thee,
briUiant diamond, the same Word took flesh, and brought forth again all virtues, as in the beginning, when He caused all creation to come forth from the The primitive earth."
saint often speaks of music, as of a language full of mystery.
Bhe
says, in
one of her
letters,
"The
soul
is
a harmony"
REVELATIONS OF
ST.
HILDEGARDK.
425
She affirms that music is strong and graceful expression 1 the voice of the Holy Spurit a sublime language, of which She wishes earthly music is only a degraded imitation.
jthis art,
of heavenly origin, to be cultivated with piety ; and ^he gives the name of "sages" to those who have been its iorgans, and have lent instruments for its use.
We love to
the
agreement between earthly realities and revealed truths must necessarily be brought out by true science. St. Hildegarde, in another vision, contemplates the tower
of
Wisdom
a tower which
;
is
rises continually
At
men make
are agitatmg themselves about come and go, and enter not ; only they then* way, and seat themselves, clothed
men
garments, on the different steps of the celestial ascending towards the summit, which is ever rising
higher and higher. Amidst these mystical visions are often discovered rays of light, which clear up many obscure parts of Holy Scripture
We
chapter.
wiU only give one example, which will termmate this The following difficulty was proposed to her The
:
side,
things at once ; and, on the other, the book of God finished the work of creation in six
shall
How
:
saint replies
"
we reconcile these two passages? The The Almighty God, who is Life, without
all eternity,
con-
ceived all things in His idea (in sdentia sua), created, at the same time, the matter of heavenly things and the matter of
earthly things
i.
e.,
opaque matter.
'J,
Now,
heaven, luminous matter ; and earth, the lummous matter darted forth, as
426
reflected
;
HISTORY OP
ST.
BERNARD.
And
these
two matters, created simultaneously, appeared as one cu*cle And, at the first fiat, the angels came forth, with their
dwelling-place of luminous matter
;
and, because
God is God
and man, they were created in the unage of the Father ; and the humanity, with which the Son was about to clothe
Himself, was created in His hnage. Thus, at the command of God, every creature came forth, according to its species, from the opaque matter. For the six days are the six
works
forms what
first
the begmning and the end of each of these works we call a day ; and, after the creation of the
God was
God
said,
*LetUghtbe.'
CHAPTER
The wisdom
XLII.
imparted to her wiorks by the Council of Treves, Uttle as they are known in our day, will justify us in the eyes of serious readers for the length to which this part of our labor
has extended.
writings.
St. Hildegarde, after
rises
We shall give
to high contemplation,
its
priesthood in
divine source
jp^
olden times
"The Son of God laid the foundation of the Church, as m Noah built the ark on the summit of the highest
mountain.
Into it, through the gate of faith, He introducei people and kings, princes of the earth, just men and sinners
REVSLATIONS OF
ST.
HILDEGARDl.
427
He
it
obedience
was who, in the person of Abraham, consecrated and the Word havmg made Himself flesh, sub;
In the mystery
He
typified baptism,
name of the Holy Trmity, opened the gates of salvation, and overwhelmed the old enemy of mankind. new generation came forth from these mystical waters,
by the Spirit, to make amends for the barrenness of Eve ; and then did Mary bring into the world a greater grace than
Eve had
"
lost.
Word having become man, it pleased God to amongst men a hierarchy, corresponding to that of the angels the bishops, the priests, and other orders of
the
establish
And
the Church being ordained to reproduce the divers degrees of angelic choirs ; and thus the people, regenerated accord-
ing to the Spirit, received honor in the eyes of God. But in the end this same people forsook the way.
They began to break the covenant with the Holy Spuit they neglected to attend to His precepts, that they might follow their own way, and give themselves over to corruption of
;
manners and doctrines, and yield themselves up anew to the dominion of their own passions. And from the midst of the
heard a voice saying to me, daughter of Zion 1 thy children's crown of honor is obscured it shall be taken away, and the overflowing mantle of their abundance shall
light, I
;
*
be diminished.
lambs
They have breasts, and they do not feed the they have throats, and they do not cry they have hands, and they do not use them ; they seek glory without Let them merit, and merit without work.
;
;
.
beware
lest
Chanaan, who
"
lost
his blessing
^j
and
men who do
actually arisen
in
modem
times,
428
reyeals
HISTORT OF
ST.
BEBNARD.
attend-
ingit:
"I
Me When
by error
Who Am
Am,
I say to those
who
listen to
come
to pass,
jieopk Uitided
who are now going themselves shall fall a ruin upon the as deceivers, astray, deceivers. They shall pursue you, without ever being weary and shall bring all your iniquities into open daylight. They
even them those
them aloud, and say of you, 'They are like And, scorpions in their lives, and reptiles in their deeds 1'
shall publish
puffed up with a false zeal for tte house of the Lord, they
shall apply this imprecation to shall perish.^
'
yen
The way
of the wicked
And
up and
se-
duced by the devil, shall thus act towards you, shall appear with pale, calm faces, and regular demeanor. They will
make
aUiances with the princes of this world, and say to them, 'Why do you endure these impioas men, who sully the earth with theh* crimes ? They are given up to wine
and
"
licentiousness,
and
is
if
Church,
"
her ruin
sealed."
Now,
the people
costume
diflFerent
their hair in
you thus will adopt a and more rude than yours they will cut another style, and appear before the eyes of
shall treat
;
who
of irreproachable lives ; for they are not they heap not up treasure, but make profession of And yet the devil is with them, conceaHng great austerity. his poison as he did at the beginning of the world, when he
occasioned the
air the
fall
of
Adam.
the
ness of
men
fills
spu-its,
which, like
a plague of
flies
the perverse."
Then the
wWch
They
will,
at tht
RETEL1TI0N3 OF
ST.
HILDBQAROK.
421
virtues.
canying her prophetic glance still forward mto the future " Those who at this time shall have become weak in faith,
will
be caught
in
They will
lend their servile aid to the attempts of the mnovators, and will imitate them as much as possible. They will become
attached to them, because they believe them to be just, and will join with them in persecuting those wiser men who persevere in the faith. Amongst these there will be very
courageous soldiers ; but congregations of pure life will not be seduced ; for we shall see the accomplishment of the
words of Mas, Many of the just as they have not embraced these
shall not
:
shall
be preserved
*
and
be torn up as says the Lord, Imq uity shall be out for it is needful that sorpurged jayjuicputy ;' row and contrition should purify the works of man * for it must needs be that scandals come but, nevertheless, wo to
.
that
man by whom
Now,
"
whom
it
is
said
even up to heaven, to
:
But the Sun of Justice will arise and better days will dawn for you. Past evils will make you more vigilant, and inspire you with the fear of
and
the precursors
of them.
at last,
God.
You will shine anew like pure gold, you will strengthen
yourselves
m
O
and you
will
be as firm as
the angels
who were
Now,
then,
confirmed in love by the fall of Lucifer. children of God, hear and understand what the
you lose not your inheritance. As a poor and timid woman, I have been for two years but, on account vehemently urged to give you this warning
;
of the divisions in
till
this day.*
ISO
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
The
snd of
Lo the eyes of
all
men
She describes, in mysterious characters, the great changes of the past and the future, which appeared at once before the eye of her soul ; but the truths to which
things.
she most energetically calls the attention of Christians are those which bear relation to Antichrist, and the last days of the world. will here quote some passages of those
We
which are most remarkable, because it may do good to repeat them to an age which has but little thought of these things. The saint thus begins : *' There will come a time, in which
men, seduced by the son of perdition,
will
the faith of the Church, and will say, with anxious heart What must we believe about Jesus ?
"
will
the Gospel and the doctrine of salvation will be neglected ; the relish for the Word of Life will be lost, and the ardor
of love shall
grow
cold.
pastors
till
I Who Am, am about now have been sealed up time is appointed when the son
I
take
all ye elect, and keep guard against the courage, snares of death. Keep close to the Divine Word, and follow
My
His steps
Who
appeared on
this earth,
pomp
of gorgeous ostentation, but in the most profound humility. Hear and understand I Behold what the Spirit says to the
The son of Church concerning the time of the last error perdition shall be thrown down, and hell will vomit its corruption upon earth, face to face, in the perdition of perdition.' " But the head must not be without a body and without
limbs.
'
The head of
the Church
is
the Son of
God
the
body and the limbs are the Church and her children. Now, the Church has not yet attained to the fulness of her statur*. Shi will go on developing until the number of her childrei
JIEVKLATIONS OF
ST.
HILDEGIRDIS.
*
431
its ele-
k
.
'
fulfilled.
I will dissolve
flesh
that
is
mortal in the
of man.
Already
;
is
the sixth
rest.*
begun
it is
a time of
....
You,
then,
O men
ahve at that time, you have got another period to pass through ; and then will arise the homicide who will undertake to overturn the Catholic faith.**
shall be
St.
who
no
man
Hildegarde here repeats the words of the Gospel, that can tell the moment when Antichrist shall make
;
know
:
it
not.
But
"
this
Word.
came
He came towards evening {ad vesperas), at least when the heat of the day was declining. What happened then ? He opened the marrow of the law, and gave vent to
tune.
He
own
nated by the Spirit, might take root in the heart of men. The homicide also will come suddenly he will come at the
;
hour of sunset, at the time when night succeeds day. ye faithful, listen to this testimony, and preserve it in your memory as a safeguard, so that terror may not find you unprovided, nor the you to perdition.
man
of
Arm
and prepare yourselves for a fierce battle. ** The man of sin will be born of an impious woman, who, from her infancy, will have been initiated in profane sciences
and
with
all
She
perverse mind ; and will give herself up to crimes unbridled license, as believing herself autho^ more with the
Ized therein
In
men of
by conamuuications from an
angel.
And
thus,
the heat of burning concupiscence, she will conceive this ion of perdition without knowing who is his father. Sbt
432
jjrill
msproRY or
st.
Bernard.
is
permitted
and
will
be honored as a
" But Lucifer, the old and cunnmg serpent, will fill the worthless fruit of her womb with his mfemal breath, and will make himself entirely master of the fruit of sin ; who, ba
soon as he shall have attained the age of manhood, will himself assume the office of master, and teach a false doctrine.
Soon afterwards he will rise in insurrection against God and and will acquire so great power that, in his foolhis saints
;
ish pride,
he would
I shall be like unto the Most High,' beginning, Satan said, and fell ; so, in the last days he will fall, when he shall say,
in the
am the
;
"
He
make
and
powerful men
of the earth
he
will
he
will
command
horrid lightning ; he will remove mountains, dry up rivers, and clothe with fresh verdure the barren trees of the forest.
By
his deeds
he
but he will put forth his infernal He will seem to restore health,
and take
life
it
away
to the dead.
he will drive away demons, and restore How shall this be ? By sending some
possessed soul into a corpse, there to remain a short time ; but these sort of resurrections will be but of short duration. " At the view of these things some will be overcome and
him others, without giving him entire credence, hold to their primitive faith, whilst, at the same time, they will desire the favors of the man of perverse mind,
believe in
will still
;
or fear his displeasure. Thus many will be seduced amongst those who, keeping the eye of their soul closed, live habitu ally amidst externals j and men wUl say, in the genera] per
BKYELATIONS OF
pleirity
ST.
HILDEGARDE.
433
of the Church
false ?
At this time Enoch and Elias will appear. These two venerable men, extraordinary by their age and their stature, will bear testimony before the children of God, that the son
of perdition, the minister of Satan, has come upon earth They will traverse th 5 only to effect the perdition of men.
places in which he has spread abroad his doctrines, and perform miracles by the power of the Holy Spirit.
faithful will
"
wiH
The
wicked
"
will
make one
effort
more
and.
swollen with pride, he will attempt to raise himself above all things, that he may be adored. He will go up into a high mountain thence to ascend to heaven ; but a clap of thui*
der will cast him down, and the a breath of his mouth, .
pious one shall be cast down,
to the truth,
Lord
will
As
and men
will
in the
way
of holiness
whom
he had
bef'n united,
Man
though stained with adultery, so the Son of synagogue, and make it enter into His
grace.
will the spouse of Christ arise strong and power with wonderful beauty, and her magnificence will shme with a cloudless brightness. All will acknowledge that the
"Then
ful
Lord alone
creatures,
is
great.
His name
shall
be made known by
all
and
He will
fcwo
death.
to
nd was not, for God took him." Genesis v. 24. " Elias went up heaven in a whirlwind." 2 Kings ii. 11. The catechism of Montpelier shows, by a number of passages, quoted from Holy Scripture and the Fathers, that the conversion of the Jews will follow after the ap^Mranoe of Enoch and Eliaa.
that
thew
with God
84
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Here we
exami
A larger space
to give a
than
this
The Sover-
eign Pontiff, after maturely examining the spuit of Si Hildegarde, wrote with his own hand these words of appro" " and bation : treasure up Preserve," adds he, your
heart the grace which God has lavished upon you, and repeat not, but with the greatest prudence, what the Spuit suggests to you to say."
Hildegarde, supported by the apostolic authority, and more and more celebrated throughout the Church, contmued
her mysterious function of prophecy till the age of 82. The collection of her letters, at the 'head of which is that
of the Pope, which we have just quoted, evinces the important relations which subsisted between her and the succes-
Adrian lY., and Alexander III., as well as with the emperors, princes, and most eminent dignitaries of the Christian world. All received with
sors of Eugenius, Anastatius lY.,
and compunction of heart the words of the humble virShe died on the 11th September, 1179, the day on gin. which the Church honors her memory.*
fear
Papebroch
relates that
preservation in 1660, at the time that this precious relic was transferred from Mount St. Euppert to the monastery of Eibengen, in the Ehingan.
Her head was covered with a few locks of red hair turning to gray. In the same monastery is preserved the habit of the saint and a penknife, with a handle of jacinth, which St. Bernard had givan her as a keeptake; and moreoTer, a very large volume of parchment, containing aL km orki.
TIBIT
435
CHAPTER XLIIL
rniT OF POPS EUGENIUS m. TO CLAIRYAUXOHAPTER OF OITEAITI OBEAT CELEBRITY OF ST. BERNARD.
After
being ended, Eugenius III. returned to France and took the road to Clairvaux, still retaining St. Bernard with him. The great number of miracles which the serrant of God
all along his journey, attracted such crowds of people to the presence of the Pontiff, that he was one day It was with the greatest difficulty, nearly suffocated by it. historian of the Citeaux, that he extricated himself reports
performed
they reached Clairvaux, where the presence of Eugenius, amidst his ancient companions, caused as much edification
thus that one of the contemporary chroniclers He says " After Eugenius had held the council, he visited Clau'vaux, and displayed the glory of the Sovereign Pontiff to the eyes of the poor of Jesus
as joy. It
is
Christ.
itation,
power he preserved with exactness the purity of the holy so that humility being united rule which he had adopted
;
to grandeur,
shone outwardly for the honor of the supreme in any way diminishing the solidity of his without dignity, He had, upon his flesh, a woollen shirt ; he interior virtue.
it
jvore his cowl night and day ; and whilst preserving the habit and interior dispositions of a religious, he appeared
outwardly the Sovereign Pontiff, by the splendid ornaments he wore on his person. Thus," continues the narrator, "h did a very difficult thing, which is to represent, in one man,
Ihe life
different persons
They car
136
ried
HISTORY CF
ST.
BERNARD.
embroidered pillows for him, and his bed was covered with rich counterpanes and elegant scarlet drapery ; but, if you had lifted up these adornments, you would have found
beneath a mattress of chopped straw and a woollen covering. sees the face and God discerns the heart and this
;
CMan Pope
tried
to satisfy
spoke to the
and interrupting
with sighs from the bottom of his heart. He he consoled them, and he behaved towards them exhorted, as a brother and companion, rather than a lord and master.
But, as the large number of persons who accompanied him did not permit him to stay long with them, he bade them adieu and quitted them, but in the body alone ; for his heart
On
was
able
;
in
Burgundy, and
stayed at
Citeaux, the mother Abbey of Clairvaux, to assist at the general chapter of the abbots of this order.
He desired to take a part in their labors, not in his quahty " of head of the Church, but as one of themselves, for th
love he bore to Jesus Christ."
Citeaux, formerly
forest,
in
which a few poor religious expiated, by the macerations of penance, the luxurious lives led in some other monasteries,
had become,
polis of the monastic life for the whole Christian world The convents of this order, now infinitely multiphed, had
extended themselves to the extremities of Europe. It was in these mysterious abodes that the Spirit of God restored,
as through the very functions,
natural
life,
and according to the laws of the losses and backslidings which had taken
Here hoHness, learning; place in the body of the Church. lacred traditions, evangelical virtues, concentrated theif
CHAPTER OF CITKAUX.
431
roots, filled with sap and life ; whilst the exterior branches were withering upon the trees, and the spirit was daily withdrawing, more and more, from the Mfeless forms, Rome herself was no longer to be found at Rome she was
;
renewing her youth in the desert ; she was drawing from the hidden springs of monasticism that strength of which
the papacy felt the need, to re-appear, with fresh vigor, at the summit of human affairs, to guide the councils of kmga and the progress of nations, to preside over the general
civiUzation of the world.
and a powerful organization, introduced the vast development of the monastic life. The whole
Church found
itself surrounded by a living network, the threads of which were twisted around the mystic hearth of Citeaux. From this source, as from the depths of the heart,
Bprang forth the blood which was to restore the form and renew the whole body of the Church. It was under the
immediate influence of
this
new
spirit,
imposing hierarchy which came forward to support the crumblmg edifice of the secular clergy, that Catholic unity remained strong and unbroken, till the time when it was to
be exposed to
its trials.
obtain an idea of the deep and living piety which the powerful Order of Citeaux nourished in its bosom, we must read the words which Pope Eugenius addressed to the abbots
To
who composed
the general chapter. do not fear to our readers some weary by quoting passages well fitted to It was a year after his visit to edify Christian piety.
We
Citeaux, that
chapter "
We
my
be able to
488
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNJLRD.
might, ako, in the same union, treat with each other of tbe
means of improving in virtue and rendering ourselves worthy of that divme joy which the Holy Spirit sheds over souls.
But being
called by the order of Providence to guide thi fessel of the Church amidst the ocean of the world, on which
we
all
are tossed by the waves and tempests which assail us on sides, and the duties belonging to our state detainmg u?
here, we are obliged to act contrary to our will, and have not the Uberty of returning to you as we had desired j wo can ui no other way make ourselves present amongst you,
or assist at your venerable but by means of our letters than the mclmation of our heart, and otherwise assembly by
;
by the affection we bear to yon ; entreating and supplicating of you, in the name of charity, to unite yourselves in spbit with us, and implore for us the grace of the Almighty For the station in which we are placed, raised on the top
all sides
if
by impetuous wmds, we
we
are assisted
by your
prayers. sight of the ancient fathers who founded your holy order ; and consider how, after having quitted the world and despised all it had to offer, they left the dead to bury their dead, and retired into sohtude to sit
Never
lose
with
heavenly
distant
Mary at the feet of Jesus Christ, there to receive the manna aU the more abundantly as they were more
from Egypt.
all sides,
it
. .
glory,
which
they shed on
Church
the
and
shone upon the whole body of the was then* words which filled the cruse of
little
widow
drop of
oil
which
still
remained therein.
They,
the Spirit, and this divme oil which penetrated their souls, has run down to us. For this cause is it that you must
not degenerate from then- vu-tues, that you may be the ranches what they were in the stem, and that having
CHAPTER OF CITEAUZ.
:JeriF4|d
48d
life,
fruit
"You
lamps to
what manner
you
they,
their
go
out, desire
to give
oil,
and
to
how
ardently the children of the world, themselves, after grovelling like beasts
m the mire,
wish to
But as you have nothing which you prayers have not received, preserve in yourselves a great sentiment of the goodness of God, and very low and humble ones of
yourselves, that
in the steps of
Him who
has
commanded you
servants after
upon yourselves as unprofitable you have done all your duty. For if you
gift of tongues, the grace to heal diseases, the knowledge of thmgs to come ; if your words are full of unction j if they are more edifymg and delightful than the
if
thmgs are not of you, but are the work of Him who said, *My Father has not ceased from the beginning of the world
to act
His grace
in
should have been glad to give, for the edification of our readers, the whole letter which St. Bernard wrote in answer, in the name of the chapter of Citeaux ; but we can " The voice of the turtle was only quote the first few words
:
We
heard
in
filled
with con-
Truly the words which you addressed to us were pure, lively, wise, and all burnmg with that divine flame which consumes your heart ; they breathe a spirit of
solation
joy.
life
and
inflames
spirit which thunders, which reproves, whicb the sign of the love which you bear to us a ; a jealousy according to God." but of jealous love, Oh, how well such a correspondence, at once so seriona
it is
an ardent
It
wa
440
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
evangelical spirit was kindled, and thence, as from a wide furnace, it spread its flames to warm the whole earth.*
Rome,
vaux.
Eugenius III. on leaving Citeaux resumed the road to whilst St. Bernard returned to his cloister at Clair-
He was now at the height of his glory. Peter the Venerable, who wrote to him at this time, addresses him as the firm amd exalted pillar not only of all religious orders^
^
but of the whole earth. Another holy man, the Archdeacon of Chalons, calls him the great arbiter of things divine and human, the master of Christians, the chariot of the
Church and
desired
to
its
guide.
"It would be
historian,
oneself," says
an ancient
could have so entirely gained the affection of the east by all his glory, as this holy abbot had'obtamed that of all the world
by
his humility
but, I
may
diffi-
cult to find, in
any
history,
own
man
We visited this
month of October, 1889, and this visi* wrung our heart. Modern industry, more pitiless than the Vandals of past ages, has sought to drive from the place the slightest rememdesert in the
brance of the Cenobites, who civilized and sanctified it. Upon the ruins of the abbey rises a sugar manufactory of beet-root, which has since fallen into ruins ; and a wretched play-house supplies the
The cell place of the monks' library, perhaps even of their chnrch of St. Bernard, which was still in existence twenty years ago, has also been sacrificed to the utility of a manufactory. They showed us its
1
remains.
feet.
ly with the
tombstones and loose bones which we tread under out examined, with great care, old plans of the immense indosure, which included more than 200 acres, without counting th
We
fields, farms,
tery
the court-yards, and other dependencies of the monas^three villagM it is iiot easy to recognize even the ite kve been constructed out of the remains.
;
but
now
441
For
his
reputation extended over the eastern Church and to Hibernia, where the sun sets ; towards the south, and mto the
most distant provinces of Spain towards the north, into He receivea the distant isles of Denmark and Sweden."
;
letters
presents
like
from
all
all
parts
on
all
sides they
the world
was asking
his blessing
in
which,
fruitful vine,
earth.
immense reputation, and was no longer able to dispatch all To the business of all sorts which flowed into Clairvaux.
-inderstand his wonderful activity,
than 500
all,
letters of his
which remain to
was obliged to concern hunself. The nommation or deposiwants of all the churches, questioBS upon
between princes, the defence of the opcomplaints of the people, the arbitration of property, the foundations of monasteries in short, all sorts of cares, and the solution of every kind of difficulty, seemed
pressed, the
to have been
this extraordinary
man.
He
"Alas I" wrote he to hhn, "it is plained of it to Eugenius. Baid that I am Pope, not you. Tliey run to me from all parts, and oppress me with business ;" and yet, he adds in
another
"
letter,
My
spent the whole year 1149 at Clairvaux, consuming the remains of his precious life in the service of the Church ; and yet, always regarding himself as a useless servant, as a poor
Binner, like
am ant
fuLrtiessed to
;
car.
year
added
sigh
hii
442
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
approaching end. He desired, like St. Paul, the dissolulioc of his earthly tabernacle, that his union with Jesus Christ
trial still
awaited him.
To make
his
unmolation complete, it was required of him that he offer his honor as a holocaust; and that after having shed throughout the whole earth the blessings of heaven, he
should reap, ha return, like his divine Master, the contempt and ingratitude of men. At the very moment that his fame was shining most brilUantly, it was suddenly covered with a
and the great man, who was at once the idol ; of the people, the oracle of the Church, the arbiter of divine and human things, became, in the eyes of the world, an imThe unfortunate news from the postor and a false prophet.
black cloud
Holy Land produced this sudden reverse in public opinion. The unexpected issue of the Crusade became known and this terrible disaster fell with all its weight upon the Abbot of Clairvaux. It was he who had stirred up the holy war he it was who had preached it, who had stood surety, as it
; ;
were, for
therefore,
its
success
it
was
he,
who had
first
been the
armies.
ruined France and Germany, who had cause of the destruction of the Christian
He
;
Church
applied to
him the words which were spoken by the Jews " He craftily brought them out of Egypt,
:
kill
them
This formidable murmuring of all Christendom did not disturb the interior peace of St. Bernard. His calm and
erene conscience bore witness that,
lions,
upon
all
God and
the
Into the hands of God, then, did he confiHoly commit the care of his person ard his reputation ; iently
Exod.
xxxii. 18.
443
all
and we
shall
the
was not the public scandal alone which weighed heavily on the heart of Bernard this was only one part of the afflictions which were dea
it
But
wounds, more
his
other sufferings
piercing
in
In imitation of the Man-God, in cup of bitterness. whose steps he had trodden from his infancy, he was to
CHAPTER XLIV
DISASTERS OF THE CRUSADE-SORBOWS OF
ST.
BEBNABD.
The sad tidings from the scene of war were but too true. The whole western world was plunged in mourning, more Conrad had been the first especially France and Germany. victim of Greek duplicity. He had not been able, indeed,
to maintain discipline in his army ; and the countries which they traversed were forced to submit to every kind of insult
and
rapine.
On
Emperor of Constantino-
and in order to get rid of the ple trembled at his approach more he urged them to cross the Bosarmy expeditiously, and phorus, supplied them, under the outward show of
faithful friendship,
with
all
sage.
Conrad, notwithstanding previous agreements, had not waited the arrival of the King of France, to effect the
junction of the two armies ; he found himself entangled in the defiles of Cappadocia, where Comnenus had placed his
ambuscades, when Louis YII. arrived in his turn before the gates of Constantinople ; for in that place a league waa
formed, in the councils of the Greek Emperor, against the
444
HISnOBT OF
st.
bernabd.
holy enterprise, a thousand times more formidable than the Mussuhnan annies. The Greek historian, Nicetas, doea
justice
on
good
faith
and noble
confi
dence of the French character, and hesitates not to condemn the cunning artifices which his countrymen, the Greeks, employed to weaken the courage of the Crusaders. But the latter were not long in discovering the dissimulation of their
pretended
allies
festivities offered
them at Byzantium, they made the certain discovery that Manuel Comnenus, the worthy son-in-law of him who rumed the first Crusaders, was holding intercourse with the Turks, and revealing to them the plans of the Latms for the campaign.
This treason excited just indignation in the French to take possession of Con-
The Bishop
with
all
"
Constan-
tinople has been for a long time," said he, "the troublesome barrier between us and our eastern brethren. It would give
The Greeks, you know, have allowed the sepulchre of Jesus Christ to fall into the hands of the Doubtinfidels, as well as all the Christian cities of the east.
us free access to Asia.
less
and
Constantinople itself will soon fall a prey to the Turks ; in her exceeding cowardice she will open the road on
The Emperors
of Byzantium
own
do
* Some philanthropic historians, amongst others M. de Sismondi, blame this advice with great vehemence as a shameful treason which would liaA>e stained the honor of France. It seems to us, on the contrary, that such a manoeuvre would have been a glory to France, and the safety of Constantinople. Perhaps M. Sismondi would have thought the same if he had not thought it a good opportunity to cast
a Catholic bishop
must be confessed
moving
that this melancholy sectarian spirit is but spring of this learned hietorian's judgments.
445
Let
as, then,
own
ruin bj
that of the traitors, and let us not leave behind us a city which seeks to rum us."
and unde^
the ramparts of Constantinople, the French were not afraid to deliberate upon the fate of the Greek empire.
"To
sorrow of
our sorrow," adds an ancient historian, "and to the all Christians who remain faithful to the Apostle
was not
listened
time to change their resolution, hastened their departure as fast as possible, by stirring up the spirit of emulation among
them, by rumors of pretended victories gained by the Germans. But the army had hardly been transported to the Asiatic border of the Bosphorus, when it learnt the bloody
discomfiture of the
rossa, the
Teutonic warriors. Frederic Barbanephew of the Emperor of Germany, came himself to the French camp with this astounding intelligence and soon after, Conrad, covered with wounds, and dragging along
;
the wrecks of his almost destroyed army, came to join Louia YII., who received him with tears of compassion.
their confederates
renewed their
;
but whilst
Conrad went to Constantinople to recruit his strength, Louis pursued his march between mounts Ida and Olympus, and performed prodigies of valor on the borders of the Meander.
The Crusaders
from the water, they attacked, sword in hand, and then formed their ranks on the borders of the stream. This was
the
and the only glorious action during this formidable campaign. The pilgrims attributed it to a miraculous interfirst
position,
invincible.
The
chiefi
i46
regularity
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNAJRD.
weakened
all
discipline
began to
mow down
the
According
dissolution of manners.
army principally arose from the The presence of women in the army enervated its powers and such was the disorder of the camp that a captain, clothed in ridiculous finery, was seen commanding a numerous troop of Amazons. These excesses brought on others still more deplorable. Geoffrey de Rancogne, the head of the advanced guard, had received an order to occupy the crest of a mountain, to protect the march of the army across the difficult gorges of Western Phrygia.
;
But, unfaithful to his mission, he went to encamp in a neighboring valley, and thus abandoned the army to a horrible " massacre. The day declined," relates the chronicle, " and
our troops were swallowed up, one after another, in the gulf which lay between these immense rocks." The king himself
danger by dint of his valor Separated from his knights, and asthis
by the Turks, he darted up the side of a rock, and defended himself heroically with his bloody sword. He escaped by a miracle ; and it was not till after many other
misfortunes that he was able to reach Antioch, and rally the remains of his chivalry ; but in that Christian city, given up
to luxury and oriental manners, he discovered, with grief, the error he had committed in bringing his wife Eleanor with hun. This deplorable episode to the Crusade is well
it
added to con
temporary Louis VII. concealed, as long as it was possible, both the misfortunes of his army and his own dishonor but at
;
it
terrible.
The
HIS SORROWS.
to France.
44'i
As to the qaeen," said he, I advise you not to evince towards her the displeasure she occasions you, till
you have arrived
reflect
it
"
"
upon a year in the Holy Land, seeking, together with Conrad, who had brought him some reinforcements, to repair the
your own dominions, and are able to But the king still remained nearij maturely."
in
He embarked, at length, in misfortunes of the campaign. the month of July, 1149, and after a short stay at Rome,
with Pope Eugenius, he landed on the coast of France. He returned with a few hundred knights twenty-eight months previously, he had departed at the head of more than a hun;
i
.y
all fears
and renewed
all
There was scarcely a family which had not some to deplore, and never were so many widows and orphans
but
instead of considering the faults which might have caused the fatal issue of the Crusade, public animadversion seized
upon one man alone ^upon him who had been the soul and mover of this great enterprise. In the first moment of stupor, even the most devoted friends of St. Bernard did not
to
;
make
to these
accusations, which
evils
;
their
became a
endured
subject of scandal.
all
As
to Bernard,
he
the humiliations which were heaped upon silently in the him, adoring, depths of his soul, the mcomprehensible of waited a whole year before he sent God. judgments
He
to the
in his
own
defence
but, during
It was one of his over the ingratitude of pies who struck the deepest blow.
I
how men
own
disci;,,^'''"'^
a man whom he had Nicholas, a monk of Clairvaux oarished with his words, and on whom he bad lavished hii
448
affection
HISTOBY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
a man
to
whom
thoughts, his
most
Nicholas, according to the testimony of the annalist of Citeaux, was a young man, endowed with the rarest gifts of grace and nature ; he was handsome, amiable,
active, with a penetratmg understanding, and and flowing eloquence. He had taken the Cistercian habit, and had been admitted at Clairvaux during the
in the eyes
and
brilliant
He very soon obtained the esteem of superiors ; all admired him ; all regarded him as one " hut,^^ says the chronicler, "like tfu capable of great things ;
absence of St. Bernard.
apostate angel,
who
of
his
them in
heart." ^jThe
Abbot
which vanity had erected in his of Clairvaux took him for his secretary;
and
this
the most considerable personages of Christendom, swelled his pride, and made him a traitor.
It was not until the year 1151, that, amidst the many other afflictions which tore his heart, Bernard discovered all
the treachery of his perfidious secretary. He convicted him, in the presence of Peter the Venerable, of having made a false seal, and of having made use of it to write a number
of letters in his
false title
name
unworthy men to the Roman Court and, in short, of having violated the most sacred laws of God and man.
Nicholas, ashamed and silent, could not endure the presence He left them, like Judas, of these two servants of God.
during the night, and retired to England ; but, frustrated in his ambitious hopes, and given over te the spirit of yengeance, he pursued his benefactor with the blackest inTcntions of calumny, and did his utmost to tarnish his rep*
Ution.
HIS SORROWS.
44 S
TliC great anxiety of St. Bernard was not to justify his bsulted hono^* he accepted this new feature of conformity with his divine Master but he found considerable difficulty
raised,
and
monstrous an abuse of
confidence.
nities
Several prelates, abbots, and religious commucomplained of having been injured by the Abbot of
;
and he did not know how to reply to so many He wrote to the Pope "The monk Nicholas grievances. has gone out from us but he was not of us he is gone,
Clairvaux
:
but has
behind him the frightful effects of the perBesides books, gold, and silver, which versity of his heart. he carried away with him, he was found in possession of
left
three seals
^his
prior,
was mine
It
seal,
made
shall I expressly to avoid frauds and mistakes. number of persons to whom he may
?
How
How
shall I
be able to de-
the impostures of this kind which he has sent to stroy the Court of Rome ? shall I fully justify all those
How
whom
ears
he has injured
by the
guilty."
Not
iety induced
letters
him to write
content with this notice to the Pope, his anxagain, fearing that other false
in circulation.
might be
all
"
am
there are
to the Court of
Rome.
To avoid
my
seal,
such things for the future, I have again changed and upon this which you see, I have had my figure
The
makes some
monk Nicholas, " of religious. " terrible example," says he, showing the necessity of humble and continual vigilance. The Church warns us that no
serious reflections
upon the
fall
man
is
secure
it
may
be,
450
is
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERXARD.
holy ]jiaces
only sanctify a
man
in proportion as
he himself
would be
the mcredible
Holy
Abbot
Every one seemed to attack him with impunity persons of all conditions, ecclesiastics, even prelates who had themselves
been of Clairvaux, added to his sufferings, and believed they
were doing some miraculous action in defaming this great man, so meek and so humble of heart but they could never
;
and
like
the Apostle
in his person,
in in
life
seemed revived
all things,
prisons; in seditions,
watchings, in fastings;
by
chastity, by knowledge, by sweetness, by the Holy' Shost, by charity unfeigned, by the word of truth, by the power of God, by the armor of justice on the right hand
and on the
left,
;
evil report
and
good report
yet well
as unknown, and
live
;
known
killed
;
as dying,
and behold we
as chastised,
;
and not
as needy,
all
yet enriching
many
These eminent quahties of the apostolic man things."* never shone with a brighter lustre than in the tune of his
humihation and sorrow.
characteristic anecdote
One
this
on
subject
said he,
rioufi
having come to Clairvaux, demanded, in an impetone, of St. Bernard, why he would not admit him into
'
"
his
community,
What good
S Cor.
is
it,'
said he,
'
for
you
Ti. 4.
HIS SORROWS.
451
afford
recommeDd
it
*
to those
who
If I
my
it
adding,
m an
I think,' replied the servant of God, that you have not read in any of those books, that it is impossible for you to become perfect at home ; for, if I recollect what
pieces.'
I have said,
place,
this
it is a change of manners, and not a change of which I have advised in all my books.' On which,
man, transported with rage, struck him so rudely on the cheek that it grew red and swelled. Those who were pres^
ent at this sacrilegious action, unable to contain their fury, were about to fall upon the wretched man ; but the saint
stopped them, and entreated them, in the name of Jesus Christ, not to touch him, but to let him depart without molestation."
Another fact, and the last we shall relate, was more painful to the tender and delicate soul of St. Bernard; but, on this occasion, sin caused his charity to abound. " Hugh, a simple monk of Clairvaux, had been called to
Rome by Pope
Eugenius
III.,
who
Roman purple. The new cardmal, in consequence of St. Bernard's refusal to send him a monk whom he had asked for, turned furiously agamst
of Ostia, and invested him with the
his spiritual father
;
violence, without even asking the reasons which had caused the refusal of Bernard. When we con" that the holy abbot saw himself sider," adds thf! annalist,
threatened
him with
own
and
ghall
which he had no personal interest, we admire the unparalleled modesty which the servant of
affair in
:
an
God
"
'
evinced in the answer which he sent him, as follows to the world because of scandals /* What, do I give
Wo
you scandal ? But how have I offended you ? have I then given you ? Who would beheve
St. Matt. xviiL 7.
What scandal
it
unless they
152
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
hitherto lived ?
were ignorant of the mutual affection in which we have Sad and sudden change, which causes me
He who supported me once would now who defended me, now attacks and threatens me he oppress me he pours out maledictions and anathemas agamst me ; he accuses me of prevarication and perfidy. Our first fathers
the greatest pam.
; ;
were only condemned after they had been heard and duly You have treated me convicted of the greatest crimes.
with less justice. I have been so much despised that I have not been considered worthy to be heard in my justification. I am condemned without being asked the reason of my conduct, without being called
upon to repair the fault which 1 have without even being clearly informed of committed, may what crime I am accused, without having been granted the
means of explanation or
you
if this
reply.
Now,
at least, let
me pray
;
be not
finishes
After havmg represented the motives of his conduct, he " Behold what I have by these Christian words
:
in
my
defence.
imprudence, you may reprove me, and even punish me ; but I am certain that, in all cases, the just will reprove me with
mercy and
charity,
not traduce me pubHcly with As for the rest, I bless God for His my death, deprived me of a consolation which
and
will
felt, perhaps, too much that of enjoying your favor and thatcf my Lord pleasure that I might learn from my own experience to hope nothing
from men."
HIS APOLOGY
463
CHAPTER XLV
APOLOGY or
ST.
BSRNARI).
all
human
troubles, cahned
by degrees the fierce storm which the disasters of the Crusade had raised, and, at last, permitted the voice of truth to be
The holy war had not, it is true, answered the exmen its issue seemed to frustrate all hope, and to have behed the promises of God himself. But the hand of Providence infallibly accomphshes its own work it combines with the acts of human freewill and from this combiheard.
pectations of
;
;
nation results, in the end, the progress of civilization and the facts of history. These facte do not, indeed, show themselves unmediately to the limited eye
politics, nor national glory, nc: military mediate benefit from the holy expedition.
of reason
neitner
But
if,
accordmg
to
human
did not escape the observation of judicious minds, even in the time of St. Bernard. Even at that time, several writers, enlightened by the Spkit of God, acknowledged as a
remarkable truth the grace which owed its bkth to the This salutary grace was the purifi-
cation of a great number of sinners by the voluntary acceptance of death. Death, blood, and sacrifice, fill up a large
cham of Christian mysteries ; and must form a large part in our views of the things of this world as connected with eternity. Bernard had said this in his letter to
place in the
the
Germans
"Is
it
not a wonderful
way
"
of salvation
offers
which
God
when he
to homicides, ravishers, adulterers, perjured men, and nwilefof factors, whom the world rejects, the opportunity of
dy^
A54
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERKAW).
We
;
will
observed
but we
And these words were exactly accomnot here repeat what we have before must remember the state of Christianity
when
it
centuries.
manners and
two
such
species of ramparts.
On
as Citeaux, Fonte-
of the
Premontre, the Carthusians ; on the other, the battleHoly Land a career more vast and more acces-
where the
their crimes,
themselves by dying for Jesus Christ. Yes, assuredly, this manner of victory, though it may raise a smile in superficial
minds,
is
man.
These
not without glory before God, nor without fruit to fruits distinguished the Crusade of St. Bernard.
No doubt if these warriors had fought in obedience to him, according to the rules of Christian discipline, they would have been victorious over themselves, as well as over the
enemies of God.
this
double victory they were overcome but, in shedding their blood at the foot of the cross, in giving up their bodies
;
We
the world with divine light, the Church has never developed, nor enlarged, nor spread herself, but by passing through the
successive transformations of death.
She never grows, nor means she is ever this but nor increases, by advances, new with be clothed to herself life, and humbling strippmg
;
herself to
be exalted.
Thus, at the beginning, her divine light seemed to be extmguished in the blood of the martyrs, and inunediately
afterwards
we behold
it
agam
HIS APOLOOT
45
but overwhelmed by and again rises full of life of the wave, holding m her hand the olive,
is all
the symbol of peace. In the middle age she is about to be Bwallowed up in the east ; but though conquered she remains mistress of the world, and victorious Mahometanism
receives its death
wound.
own
children,
and
aroused against her, crying. Let us crush the wretch ! She again arises, and again offers both hght and salvation
to the world.
Such
is tlie
she has
way
in it she falls,
and
;
it
He
way
rest,
and
glory,
and divine
These truths, of which profane history makes but little we have said, the pious medita-
who
some writers of the time of the Crusade. Those replied to the slanderers of St. Bernard proclaimed
when pointing out the unhappy cause of the misfortunes of the holy war.
these truths,
wQl give some interestmg testunonies on this subject, gathered from one of the most ancient biographers of the
We
Abbot
of
Clairvaux.
Otho of Frisengen, an
historian
whose judgment is the less to be suspected as he tells of what he beheld with his own eyes, and frequently appears
not even favorable to St. Bernard, expresses himself in these " terms If we say that the holy abbot was inspired by the of to animate us to this war, but that by our God Spirit
:
pride and licentiousness we have disregarded his salutary counsel, and that we have, therefore, reaped, as the harvest of
our
own
by the examples of
156
HISTORY OF
this
ST.
BERNARD.
the testimony of the Englishmai, Newbridge, a conscientious writer, whom Mabillon calls "vir loruz notct et Jidd Scriptorem^^-^^^ThQ
To
we may add
William
of
Greek emperor, to whom our people had given We read m Scripture that a oflfence, by their excesses. countless army of the people of God were infected by the
of the
it
so that, being suddenly deprived of lost its strength, and was struck
replied,
with languor.
that the people had been polluted by an anathema ; and He * Thou said, Israel, the anathema is in the midst of thee I
shalt not triumph over
thme enemies
until the
author of the
off.' Now, our army was so full of sins and vice, which violated, not the laws of arms only, but those of Christianity, that we have no reason to be
astonished that the divme favor did not assist the enterprises of men so impure and corrupt. Our camp was not chaste,
but
filled
with impurity.
;
Many
and power of the troops and thus, resting with bold presumption on an arm of flesh, according to the language of
Scripture, they did not recognize the power and the mercy of God, for whose cause alone they, however, pretended
that they had taken up arms." Such confessions as these enlightened public opmion, and, by degrees, dissipated the clouds which had accumulated
upon
St.
Bernard's head.
and,
The
friends of the
Abbot of
zealous
Clairvaux,
especially,
some
remarkably
preachers, consoled the afflicted people by the language of " Those " who were hnmorehgion. Christians," said they,
lated in the east, for the faith,
were
less to
be pitied than
Buch warriors as had escaped death, but who on their return home, had returned to their old iniquities, like the dogs which
'
^turned
to
thdr vomitP'
They
recalled to
mmd
the advic
HIS APOLOOT
of St. Bernard,
451
by which the divine counsels had been promulgated in short, they prevailed on Christians to weep over themselves
rather than over the servant of God.
Amongst
a
men thought
faith,
Bernard
we find
letter which,
under an original form, breathes so lively a and a candor and confidence so pious, that the reader
it
will
be glad to find
here.
It
is
an abbot of the Order of Citeaux, who relates, to the Abbot of Clairvaux, a vision which he had seen concerning the
Crusade. "I am told," says he, "that you, my well-beloved father, are still grieving over this great affair I mean the expedition to Jerusalem, which has not had the success
which we desired.
It
is
on
this
liberty of humbly declaring to you what God put into my heart on the matter, when my mind was very much taken
up with
to
little
it
reveals
ones those things which are hidden from the more eminent ; and that Jethro, though a stranger, gave advice
to Moses,
who spoke
God.
I think, then,
very dear father, that the Almighty has drawn much fruit from this Crusade, though not exactly in the manner
my
that
If
is,
loyally
and piously
in
Saviour would have been present with them, and caused their arms to triumph ; but, as they gave thenh
elves up to
all
sorts of crimes,
all
they would fall, His providence made even these events to serve the designs of His mercy and sent them such mis;
fortunes
being purified by crosses, they might attain to the kingdom of heaven. Many of those
that,
and checks
468
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
me
that they have beheld many men die rejoicmg in their fate, fearing to fall back into their sins should they return
to Europe.
And,
in order that
you may
feel
no doubt of
what I
fession,
and as to
my
John and Paul, the two patrons of our church, have, more than once, visited us and, having lately inquired of them what we ought to believe about the Crusades, they answered,
;
who fell in the holy wars have the places of the fallen angels. Know, also, that they spoke of you with the greatest respect and honor, and predicted your approaching end. Since, then,
that
many
of the Christians
fill
been called to
this enterprise
has attamed
its
it
find
it
your consolation in
Him
for
His foresight of the salutary effects of this enterprise, that He gave you the grace and power to put it into execution. May he vouchsafe now to crown your career
in
was
happily ; and grant to me the happiness of contemplating, with you, His Divine and Adorable Majesty in heaven."
The
of his
season of disgrace,^^ as St. Bernard called this epoch life, began to grow brighter ; and a visible reaction
"
took place in favor of the Crusade. It was not till then ** that the saint addressed his Apology" to the Pope, which
"Book
of the Consideration.'*
it.
We will here
the Pope,
"
We,"
said he to
announced peace, and there was no peace ; we promised rest, and behold only trouble. Did we, then, act Did we not follow your comrashly, and of our own will ?
mands, or, rather, those of God, in following yours ? All the world knows that the judgments of God are true
but the late event
those blessed
is
"
scandal at
cannot
HIS APOLOGY
459
of Providence
nnderstand
Let us
call to
on
this matter.
is
which no one
desirous of
knowing, in these times for the heart of man is so formed that it forgets, in time of need, certain truths, which it knows quite well when the need is not present. Moses,
when he brought the people of God out of Egypt, promised them a better land for, if he had not, would this people, who cared for nothing but earth, have followed him ? He brought them out but he did not bring them to the land which he had promised them and yet, we cannot certainly
;
; ;
He
did
things
He
of Israel, who, though they had fought by the command of " God, were twice beaten by the tribe of Benjamin. Now,
how, I pray you," adds he, "would the Crusaders have treated me, if I had prevailed on them to return a second
time to the battle
to
?
and
if,
had
it
said
, , back, a third time V yet, this was actually the case of the Israelites ; and not till the third time they obtained the victory."
them
again,
Go
And
was
sprang from the testimony of his conscience " cludes with these words : As for myself, I
and he con-
am
Uttle con-
cerned at being condemned by those who call good evil, and evil good ; who take light for darkness, and darkness for
light.
And
if
murmur
against m
460
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
than against God. I wiilingly endure tht words of slander and the blasphemies of impiety, provided they are directed against me, and not against God. It ia
....
me
*
Jesus Christ, when He said, the assaults of those who havt msidtedthee havefdllm upon mt?^
And thus it was that the catastrophe of the Crusade did not overwhelm the holy Abbot of Clairvaux. He never doubted the truth of his mission ; and the principle of the
holy wars remained pure and sacred, notwithstandmg the disasters which obscured their glory ; and, besides, it must be confessed, that the extermination of the largest portion
of the Crusaders served not only for the salvation of many, as was remarked by John of Casa-Maria ; it was felt also
in
pearance of so
another sphere, especially in Germany, where the disapmany warlike men and turbulent princes
greatly contributed to maintain peace, or, at least, to stifle bloody quarrels. The celebrated dissensions between the
Guelphs and the GhibelUnes were almost extinguished by the consequences of the Crusades and historians agree in attri;
buting this result to the death of the principal combatants. Before we quit this subject, let us make one last observation
upon
this
It
is
a remarkable
St.
Bernard had
first,
called out,
was divided
The two
and the most formidable, which were the French and the Germans, traversed Europe and Asia in a most magnificent
array ; but, to confident in their own strength, and faithless to the God of Armies^ in whose name, nevertheless, they
perished, and their very glory only served to render their defeat more striking. But two othei armies, of whom history makes very Httle mention, set forth,
We have
HIS APOLOGY.
461
ploit
performed on the banks of the Tagus. It waa the Crusaders of England, and the maritime countries of the
north, led
by an unknown
chief,
generous yalor, snatched Portugal from the hands of the Saracen, and gave a new kingdom to Christendom. The
Moors of Spain had been more than once conquered by the Cid and his valiant companions. Successively driven from the provinces which they occupied, they had intrenched themselves in the fortresses of Portugal, when Providence
ordained that the
these coasts.
fleet
They
besieged and took Lisbon, made themselves masters of several other Mussulman towns, carried oflf then: spoils,
Spain
first
occupied by a
noticed
At
little
by tho
world as these, turned their arms against the idolatrous people on the shores of the Baltic. These warriors, chiefly composed of Saxons and Danes, were distmguished by the
peculiar form of the cross which they wore on their breasts. It surmounted a globe, an unage of the earth, the universal
symbol of Jesus Christ. It was thus that the idea of the holy wars was developed and carried out. In this last
expedition the material results were but inconsiderable ; but very important Scriptural conquests contributed to the
extension of the Church.
bors, the Sclavonians, as they
by Charlemagne.
to the
They attained
end
for,
according reports of those historians who most Btrongly disapproved this enterprise, it was nevertheless on
this
occasion
that
Christiamity
was
first
introduotd
into
The Saxons
*
462
BI8T0BY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
had been suggested by the Pope Eugenius III., according to the annals of Baronius, had conceived a two-fold plan,
which the Crusaders were to execute
infidels
;
of the east, the other to the idolaters of the northern Was it on account of this negotiation countries of Europe.
made
it
his
second journey to
Germany ?
We
enable us to affirm
that mission, and
Bernard,
we have hazarded
the conjecture ; and, besides, if we reflect on the position of the Saxon princess with respect to the Emperor of Germany,
we
in
perceive the great Influence which he must have exercised the councils of these sovereigns, to induce each of them
to raise a separate army, and to fight on his own account. Religion alone had sufficient power to secure the success of
such a plan.
Now, the uresistible organ of religion, the mighty interpretation of the will of the Church, was St. But the work of Providence was not terminated Bernard.
by the second Crusade. The strife between Christianity and Mahometanism a strife m which the Crusades themselves were but one of the most memorable episodes continued for many ages with more or less spirit, under other forms, until the day when the Mussulman power was broken against the valor of John Sobiesky, at the gates of Yienna. Since this
day, the
religion
territorial limits
of
^it
issued
is
out of
its
sinking rapidly
into decay.
their continuance,
all sides,
Spain, Sicily, Africa, throughout all Asia ; Catholicity da^ed to attack it in the heart of its empire, and remained master of the world. This was the final result of the Crusades ; and is
sufficient
468
CHAPTER XLYI.
AIATH OF THE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS CONTEMPORARIES OF -HIS LAST ILLNESSHIS LAST MIRACLE.
ST.
BERNABB
The
century, developed widely under the visible agency of Providence ; but the men who had guided the Church and the
State disappeared successively from the scene ; and less than two years, Christendom was deprived of the most eminent personages of the age. This funereal catalogue
began
ended
in
1152, with the death of the Abbot Suger, and with the death of St. Bernaj-d.
The faithful Suger, in his old age, took very much to heart the cause of the Crusades, and interested himself on
the subject with an ardor the more surprising, as he had King of France taking His biographer says, that the soul of the part in them.
before endeavored to dissuade the
Abbot
of St. Denis
was
no glorious
that, in
He feared much
consequence of the misfortunes of the expedition, the glory of the Christian name would be extinguished in the east, and
that the holy places would be trodden under foot by the infidels ; he had likewise received letters from the King of
Jerusalem and the Patriarch of Antioch, which entreated him to bring them aid, because Raymond, the Prince of
Antioch, was dead, and the city, unless promptly succored, was on the point of falli ag into the hands of the mfidels.
Emboldened by
the
his zeal,
'le
Abbot
and
the pious Louis YII., a worthy progenitor of St. Louis, was meetready to raise once more the standard of the cross.
464
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
method of delivering their brethren in the east but the coor age of both knights and clergy failed, and no result followed.
;
But
still
racteristic, did
nothing
less
Suger, with a perseverance which was his chanot give up his design ; and he resolved on than to raise troops in his own name, and march
His fortune was entirely con" secrated to the preparations for this undertaking ; but,* ** was of his he while departure, thinking says the chronicler,
at their head to Jerusalem.
and sighing
fever
;
his soul,
firm
some
but he was not time against the weakness of his frame slow to perceive that the hour was come in which he was to
God. Feeling himself, then, called to thci he selected from amongst the bravest Jerusalem, heavenly knights of the kmgdom a man of courage and experience,
-esign his soul to
whom
he caused to take an oath upon the cross, to repair in Jerusalem which is on earth ; and he charged
soldiers withjihe treasure
beforehand to Palestine."
fWhen
St.
he wrote him the following of God, to despoil yourself of not, of which incessantly draws you the your earthly man, weight down to the earth, and attracts you towards the abyss.
" Fear
was near
his end,
man
What
not,
have you
in
^you
who, on
can-
You
of God, return to your God until you have put off the clay in which you are enveloped, and have given back to the earth that which the earth had lent to you. I earn-
man
estly desire
blessmg
to behold you at this time, and to receive your but as none of us disposes of himself, I dare not promise you positively what I doubt whether I shall be able to perform ; but I will endeavor to make that possible
;
which
is
not so at present.
However
that
may
be, I
beg
havmg
465
our Lord
I do not lose you ; I only send you bemy soul will remain united to yours
;
an eternity of love. Remember me when you shall have arrived at that place to which you go before me, that God may grant me the grace soon to follow you, and enjoy the
and be convinced
that, notwith
remembrance of you."
noble type of an incorruptible justly styled by his contemporaries the father his of amntry expired, at the age of seventy years, the His death, like his life, was an act 13th of January, 1152.
minister,
the
of perfect Christian abnegation. St. Bernard, to whom he owed his glory before God and man, made his eulogium in these few words: "If," writes he to Eugenius, "there be
any precious
it is
vessel adornmg the palace of the King of kings, without doubt the soul of the venerable Suger." The
tomb which opened for this just man, was not long before it received the remains of others not less illustrious. History
mentions, at the same time, the death of Geoffrey Plantagenet, whose house had so glorious a destiny in England ;
also that of Thibault the Great,
during a reign of
own
person, mUitary bravery to the most sublime Christian virtues ; that of Ralph, Count of Yermandois, the inseparable
companion
in
Emperor of Germany, who was followed very soon afterwards to the grave by his young son, Henry, who had been crowned during the lifetime of his father. Germany and
France long
his
felt
166
St.
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Bernard himself approached the end of his career past, the servant of God had been detach-
much
all
world
his conversation
as possible, from all the cares of this was in heaven; and, amidst business
End troubles of
kinds, he lived
the beginnmg of the fatal year, 1152, he expenenced a return of his old maladies, and suffered from long fainting-fits, presages of his approaching dissolution ; but his
From
mind, ever calm and vigorous, commanded his enfeebled limbs, and he was still able to use them within the monastery in the service of God.
He
exhaustion, to celebrate the holy sacrifice daily ; saying to those who aided and supported him at the altar, that no act was more eflBcacious towards
the last passage than to offer oneself as a holocaust, in union with the adorable victim immolated for the salvation of maa
His words, more rare but more penetrating than ever^ breathed forth the sweet ardor which consumed his soul ;
and oftentimes, after celebrating the holy mysteries, so bright a fire from heaven encircled him, that no one could approach him without feeling within himself a double portion of love
and
fervor.
His brethren,
his
compassionated his
force of prayer,
sufferings,
all
the
and by every bond of tender love the whole night community asked of God, with
day and
tears, the
preservation of a father so dear to them. It appeared as if so many earnest supplications were granted, for the saint recov-
ered some strength. But he called his large family around him, and, with a touchmg and loving accent, he entreated
of them to let him die.
"Why,"
said he to them,
"would
you heep here on earth so wretched a man ? Your prayers have gained the victory over my desires show me greater
;
and
let
me
depart to God."
III.
467
Notwithstanding the acute sufferings to which he was a rictim, he wrote, with a trembling hand, to one of his dearest
friends,
it
the
Abbot
:
of Bonneval.
must be read
"I have
"with much
gratitude, the
marks of
affection
me
but nothing, henceforth, can give me pleasure. What joy can a man taste who is overwhelmed with suffering ? I have
no moment of
food.
respite,
I can say, with Job, that sleep has departed from lest the insensibility of sleep should hinder me from me,
feeling
my
sufferings.
it
My
and
any food,
and yet
causes
me
gether empty. my but, that I may conceal nothing from your heart, which interests itself in all that concerns me, I must confess, though,
feet
My
perhaps, somewhat imprudently, that amidst all these evils, my soul sinks not ; the spirit is ready in a weak frame.
me
at
my departure
;
this departure
out of this world, and not to delay me to die. Aid with your
prayers a man devoid of all merit ; that in this momentous hour the tempter may not triumph over me. In this, my extremity, I have yet desired to write to you with my own
how much I love you, and that when ycu recognize my handwriting, you may also recognize my heart ; but I should have been much better pleased to have spoken
than to have written."
Bernard received,
six
weeks before
his
own
death, the
This holy Ponafter the Universal tiff, having governed Church, for the and a with of the half, eight years ipace prudence and firm^
Pope Eugenius.
He had
triumphed over the most unplaca-ble enemies of the See; Holy by weapons of meekness aid love ; and under hii
468
HISTORY F
ST.
BERNARD.
violent crisis, both politi
iti
pontificate, agitated as it
was by a
cal
and
religious, the
The Ca^
by a
"We who
concluding in the following manner ; knew this great Pontiff perfectly well, are coa-
Tinced that he has been raised to the third heaven, without, however, leaving us orphans ; for he will mtercede for us
God who has called hun to share His glory. Yet do you, who are the head of that body whence he was taken to be placed upon the Apostohc chair, cease not to entreat God for him, that He may grant him an entire remission of his sins, and augment his happiness and hia crown in heaven." The annalist of Citeaux bears testimony,
beiore that
that though Eugenius III. has not been canonized according to the strict forms of the Church, yet he has not failed
to be beatified and canonized
Christendom.
of this Pope, whom Bernard loved and so tenderly, tore his heart and forced his tears to flow. This loss seemed to have taken from him his last consolation, and every day he became more and more
so deeply
estranged from
things which were passing around him. Godefroy, Bishop of Langres, had come to see him about this tune, to consult him upon some important affau* he ;
all
little
God
this
He
to him,
"Do not trouble me any more, I am no longer of world f and, in fact, he sought only to loosen the last
threads which bound him to this earthly life. All the rayg which darted from his soul were concentrated in God his
iove
and he had reached, on the wmgs of the of the immortal country. pure desire, joys But a miracle was destined to crown the life of this great
his delight
;
and
469
serrant of God.
relates his
"
He was
contemporary biographer, "and was ampkting of his earthly life, when the Archbishop of manfully Treves came to Clairvaux, and threw himself at the feet of
the courst
assist the
the saint, entreating and conjuring him to province of Metz, in which most lamentable scenes were passing. The nobles and the commonalty, who had been, for some time,
were carrying on a bloody war than 2,000 of the citizens had perished already more
in
open
hostility,
and
in the
wars."
The Archbishop of Treves, in his quality of Metropolitan of the country of Metz, had proceeded, with the pious care of a good pastor, to separate the combatants, and to prevent But they did not listen to his voice greater misfortunes.
they repulsed his mediation
this
;
and the
prelate,
deplormg
his
was to
call the
Abbot
and to commit to
ble spirits.
his
the aflfectmg recital of these troubles, which the archbishop mterrupted with his tears, Bernard felt himself interiorly
At
was reanimated,
for,
urged to reply with confidence to this appeal ^his zeal his bones seemed endued with fresh energy ; " the God held his soul between His hands chronicler, says
^
it
as
He pleased.^
Metz
!
He
The two
armies were encamped on the two banks of the Moselle on one side, the citizens, breathing nothing but hatred and fury ;
on the other, the nobles and their men of war, intoxicated with a first victory, and ready to commence the attack. Suddenly the man of peace, supported by some venerable
monks, presents himself in the midst of the combatants he is feeble, he cannot make himself heard, he is not even
listened to
j
470
msTORT or
st.
bernakd.
ing to calm their passions, without, humanly speaking, per His presence in the ceiving the least possibility of success. of has the effect suspending for a moment the camp only
shock of arms.
despair
Do the anxiety of the monks who surround him, saying, not fear ; for, notwithstanding the difficulties which cross our
In short, in tht path, you will see the restoration of order." middle of the night, he received a deputation from the principal nobles, declarmg that they would accept his mediation.
he calms "
In the morning he assembled the most considerable of both parties in a little islamd upon the river, whither came a crowd
of boats bringing the chiefs of the various troops.
Bernard
heard
all
then* griefs
all their
his
words
tri-
umphed over
the fighting
men
laid
all
down then*
the ranks
1
A
"
this
memorable journey.
There arrived," says a biographer, "by the order of Providence, a very poor woman, who had suffered for eight years a most acute disorder, and she presented herself to th
servant of God, and asked his blessing. This woman was constantly agitated by convulsive tremblings, the sight of
pity.
Bernard began to
pray, and, in an uastant, before the eyes of a crowd of witnesses, the woman^s agitations ceased, and she was restored
to perfect health.
it is
difficult
; present, even the most hardened men, beat then* breasts and declared the wonders of the power of God. This scene lasted for about half an " tears of admirahoTiPj during which," adds the historian,
who were
tion
But the man of God, surrounded by an immense concourse of peoj>le, and pressed upon by the crowds who threw then*-
4Tl
once before
in
was
in
danger of
life
losing, as
which
still
;
animated
hia
He
little
and, putting him into a ; The nobles and darted off boat, they precipitately. ** cannot fail,'* the magistrates followed to rejoin him.
We
said they,
"to hear favorably one who we see is so loved and heard by God and we will attend to his advice, because
;
God
But
the saint would not receive their praises, answering them, "It is not for me, but for you, that God has done
these things."
ftisnop's
St.
solid
house, where, by his care, all the conditions of <t and sincere peace were concluded and signed between the belligerent parties. This work was terminated
I
And
man
of
it
was the
1
God
it
which you achieved m this world, O was the last jewel with which the God of
last
brilliant
crown.
with the
depart in peace." As the mariner, on returning from a long voyage, lowers and folds up his sails when he sees the port in which he is
home
on
hi6
at Clairvaux
and
humbly to
upon a precious cross, he lay trai> his deliveranoe. the hcur of mlly awaitm^
bed of
suflfermg, as
4tS
msTOBT or
st.
birnabd.
CHAPTER
DBATH OF
Let us now
8T.
XLVII,
BEKNABD.
and
mingle amidst the dismayed disciples who surrounded the couch of their father, contemplating, with a holy fear, the
last shining of that bright star,
whose
rise
The gentle Bernard seemed like some ripe and perfect bound to this earthly life by a slight thread, which the least motion might break. He had received the sacraments
fruit
and
Church
hour, he was
children.
lovingly
employed
their grief ?
hoping against hope such is the blindness of love ! Fihal tenderness cannot comprehend the possibility of certain
separations
;
and
it
shuts
its
tomb of a mother
or a father, as the mother over the cradle of her infant. It would seem as if hearts, entwined around each other by so
pure an affection, can neither Hve nor die without each other. No reasoning, no consolation, not even the Christian faith,
has power to destroy this last illusion so much is it founded upon eternal truth 1 The apostles themselves were unable
;
the
still
carnal and
human
which they bore to their divine Master, bUnded their minds, and they could never understand the announce" We have ourselves ment of his death.
experienced,* writes one of the disciples of St. Bernard, "what the eva^ gelist tells us of the blessed apostles, who, when our Lord
BIS DIATH.
4t8
predicted His passion, knew not did not understand His words ;
believe that
what
it is
He
was
saying, and
which occasions
it
mo-
ment, a vain hope which concealed from their minds the too real prospect before them of losing their father. But he,
touched with pity in tJu bottom of his soul, did all he was able to soften their sorrow and strengthen their courage. He
them to abandon themselves with confidence to the divine goodness, and to persevere in heavenly charity. He promised
them that, even in leaving them, he would not depart from them, but would have a care for each of them after his death ; and then, with a sweetness which no wordi can describe, he
besought them earnestly to love one another, to advance in the holy path of Christian perfection, and to remam faithful to their vocation, in the fear and love of God. Then, addrosBlng
St. Paul,
spirit
My
brethren,
we beg and
Christ, that, as
us to live and to please God, you would continue so to walk, that you may advance more and more holiness ; for the
will of
. is, that you should become saints." 1 Thes. iv. 1, 3. Then he called to his bedside the Superior General of the Order of Citeaux, the venerable Abbot
God
Gozevin, and several other abbots and prelates arrived at Clairvaux to pay their last duties to him.
who had
Gozevin
melted into tears; for though, accordmg to the monastic hierarchy, he was placed above St. Bernard, he loved him with
filial
love,
his
master and
father.
voice,
hearts
tender father, beloved father," cried they, with sobs, "will you then leave thii
of his children
I
"
i14
monastery?
HI8T0RT OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Have yorf no pity upon us, your children, have nourished at your own bosom, whom you have brought up and led like a tender father? What will
whom you
become of the
will
fruits of all your labors and anxieties ? What become of the children whom you have loved so well ?''
These piteous exclamations moved the maternal heart of the " know servant of God, and he wept. I not," said he, casting
towards heaven a glance of angelic sweetness, " I know not to which I ought to yield the love of my children, which
urges
me
to stay here
or to the love of
my God,
which
draws me to Him."
These were his last words. The tolluig of the bells, ae companying the funeral chants, mtoned by TOO monks,
interrupted the deep silence of th desert, announcing to the world the death of St. Bernard. It was on the twentieth
of August, 1153, at about nine the morning. The samt was 63 years of age ; he had been for 40 years consecrated to Jesus Christ in the cloister, and for 38 he had exercised
the
office
of abbot.
He
left
Clah^aux, and 160 monasteries, founded in different countries of Europe and Asia.
shall not attempt to describe here the desolation, the groans of the pious cenobites, when they were deprived of Buch a father. Each one went to imprint a fond, farewell
kiss
We
suffering
nor death could deprive of its heavenly smile. They gazed on high as if they coulc^ behold the soul of Bernard, under
the form of a chaste dove, rising majestically towards " heaven. Father, O car of Israel I" cried one of his disciples, overpowered at once by grief, reverence, adnuration, mnd love, " my Father, harbor for the shipwrecked, buckler of the oppressed, eyes to the blind, support of the tottering.
You were, most tender Father, the model of perfeo the mirror of holiness, the type of all Christian virtiie 1 tioQ,
HIS DEATH.
th<}
4tA
age, the
glory of Israel, the joy of Jerusalem, the wonder of the ornament of the world, the fruitful olive, the abund*
pahn
ant vine, the cedar of a thousand branches, the magnificent the vessel of election, the vessel of honor in the tree
I
the holy candlestick, adorned with pearls and precious stones ; the high and immovable column of holy Church I the mighty trumpet of the mouth of God I the harmonious organ of the Holy Spu-it I You delighted all
house of
God
pious souls,
pious
1
you supported the weak, you cast down the unyour step was humble, your countenance modest,
full of
your aspect
of
God and
life
He
has passed
the tempests of
and has now reached the peaceful haven of the He has passed from labor to rest, heavenly Jerusalem. from hope to reward, from the promise to the crown, from
faith to light,
eternity,
God
Happy
;
passage
and sorrowful
in the desert."
Thus sighed these pious monks thus did they pour forth their love and their sorrow. And he, also, who writes these
lines,
will
become of bun
mingles his tears with those of these religious. What He loses, in the conclusion of this ?
work, the dear object which has employed his thoughts, consoled his leisure, and softened his griefs, through many a year
of suffermg. He has become habituated, by a voluntary illusion, to Uve with the saint, to follow him everywhere, to
in his
words, to take pride in his writings, he had been one of his chit
his disciples
And now
and
forces
his consolation,
away
holy
and beloved Bernard, receive my bless this book, and him who wrote
476
done
?
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Was
life ?
it
of your
merit,
Have
it
not a rash undertaking to write the history I not lessened the esthnation of your
glory,
by trying
is
to describe your
labors ?
much
for
it
impossible to relate aU
God shows
forth in
His
saints
and I and
have
himself,
then, deign to
make up
its
God wrought
St.
mere name of
Bernard
peace and piety, and, above all, charity without which life has no consolation
without
celestial charity
which
I
we
May
we
obtain these heavenly favors oy the mtercession of St Bernard. I implore them for all those who shall read this
book, and especially for those who, in then" turn, are wOling to say a prayer for the unworthy writer, and for those souls
which are united with him in God. " Now, these things happened," says the chronicler, "in the Bame year m which the blessed Pope Eugenius, who had been
one of the children of
St.
or, rather, passed from under the pontificate of
this darkness
head
filling
of the
Roman Church
German empire
Louis YII., son of Louis le Gros, signing happily in France ; Jesus Christ, the Son of God, holding the principality of the
universal Church,
visible
and
To Him
Holy
tnd.
and the sovereign monarchy of all creatures the year of the mcamation, 1153." who lives and reigns with the Father and the
invisible
;
Spirit
to the
Eng of
Amen.
onci
TO HIS gmriK.
4tt
ADVICE
OF
ST.
BERNARD TO
A FRAGMENT.*
ON FAITH
The Lord
possible to
all
faith,
Apostle Paul,
firmly,
To
believe
and to
belief; to
maintain
ourselves
by a good life, in the possession of a holy faith, is to possess beforehand the happiness and eternal rest of Without faith no one can please God. How, then, heaven. shall we cause this salutary faith to spring up in the heart ?
By word and by
tain this end
example. }< It is in vain that we try to obby fear and threats; and the submission which is produced by violence is seldom of long duration; as the branch of a tree, when bent by the effort of a vigorous arm
returns rapidly to
its
place as soon as
it is
set at liberty,
is
would add,
also, that,
like
a body
but a deplorable illusion to publish ostentatiously a faith which is not accompanied with works. If you bear the cross in reality,
it is
and
so,
by dying
to the world
and to yourself.
St.
* This \mting is believed to contain the rales whiob gmve to his sister, Hombeline.
Bernard
478
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
Mortification and contempt of the world, this is our true cross; and we shall well deserve to pass for imposters if we
pretend to bear
it
well,
Let us pray, and let our unsincere spirit of penance. changeable faith sustain our prayer, and we shall obtam of God whateyer we desire. Let us believe in the Son of God,
and eternal
life is
us.
Let those
are without this faith hold for a certainty, not only that they shall never see God, but that they will be for ever obAs a body without jects of His indignation and abhorence.
who
a soul
is
is
dead
also.
My very dear
also, that,
without charity,
and
preserve, then, with the greatest care, the precious gift Let this of true faith, pure faith, faith without reproach.
burning, fervent, and invincible faith, which obtained an immortal crown for the holy confessors, be the immortal
ornament of your
soul; speak not of Jesus Christ unless with the deepest reverence; let all your most penetrated tender and ardent feelings b directed towards God; reject,
is
always accompany your faith ^that is to say, let the holiness of your life correspond with the holy truths which penetrate
vour soul; and curse not, by your works, the same God whom you bless by faith. For your whole being would be corrupted by this mixture of good and evil, of vice and
virtue
ON HOPE,
Be
not
solicitous, says
trust in
God.
not what
we
see,
but what
is
4*79
find
man
it
and patience will help us to that we should seek Thus should we understand those words of the wise " The hope of the perverse is like the dust which the
;
wind carries away; the hope of the just is full of hnmortalWait, then, upon the Lord, my dear sister, be faith ity," ful oO His commandments; He will elevate your hope, and
Himself put you
in possession of
His kingdom.
Wait upon
upon Him by avoiding all sin. He will come, doubt it not; and in the approachmg day of His visitation, which will be that of your death and His judgment,
Him
patiently; wait
Himself crown your holy hope. Yainly do men, given up to corruption and sin, dare to implore the mercy
will
He
of
God;
let
gin to amend,
in evil,
them change their lives; let them, at least, beand their hope will not be vain. Overmuch
confidence in the goodness of God, causmg us to persevere draws down upon us His anger; overmuch appre-
hensii of His justice throws us into despair of His mercy. There is a middle course between these two extremes.
We
must always hope for the pardon of our sins; but, as much Thus the true as possible, we must strive to sin no more.
walks along, equally sustamed by fear and by hope; by hope exalted to heaven, and by fear abased to hell. No sin, however enormous, is so great as to despair
servant of
God
of
its
forgiveness.
it is
all your hope in the heart of Jesus, my dear sister; a safe asylum; for he who trusts in God is protected and sheltered by His mercy. To this firm hope join the
Place
practice of vu*tue, and even in this taste the meffable joys of Paradise.
life
you
will
begin to
We
very dear
sister,
have a hatred
for sin,
the mercy of God; we must detest our faults, never despair of salvation, do penance, and expect aU things from the goodness of this great God; and thus, renouncing a sinful life
ft
life
^believe,
with
peaceftU
480
confidence, that
msrroRY or
st.
Bernard.
I praj chosen
that you
we shall obtain eternal life; to which may be happily guided by Him who has
all eternity.
you from
ON CHARITY.
The Church, my dear
sister,
charged by
its
Divine
Hea
charity alone, but the various characteristics of charity She teaches us that we must not love even good things with
an equal love; that, according to what they are, they demand of us more or less affection; and to be ignorant of this order and just measure
knowledge of our
is
duties.
Ml
uch things as are worthy of love, if we attach ourselves to those which do not deserve it, there is disorder in our
charity.
if
If we love too well what is less worthy of love we do not sufficiently love that which is more deserving of
love
there
is
Well-ordered
charity requires that we should love God above all things; it requires that we should love Him with all our heart, with
our mind, with all our will; that He alone should occupy our thoughts who is the source and principle of all our thoughts; in one word, that He should fill our whole life,
all
and
love,
unbounded
we
should refer to
Hun
our souls.
sister, since God is the supreme good, can more be just than that we should love Him in all anything HiM love above all things ? Perfect beatitude conthings,
My
dearest
Bsts in loving the perfect good; the measure of our happiness vrill, then, be that of our love, since we cannot love
God
truly happy.
without being truly good, nor be good without being "Love," says the wise man, in the divine
for^
DVICS TO
HIS 8I3TIR.
48 i
Ten as death tears the soul violently to separate it from the body, so does the love of God altogether draw man with an
all
Ib
mvincible power from the world, and extinguish within him attachment to perishable things. Yes, the power of love
as great as that of death, and the victory which it obtains over our vices is not felt less by all the faculties of our soul
than death
is
it
penetrates into
sake, because
all ita
members.
God
own
He
is
supremely good, and the Creator of all things. And this is what charity teaches us love God, she says to us, for the love of God Himself; and your neighbor for the love of God.
Observe that, at
things, to prefer
first,
she
to
recommends us
all things,
to seek
God
m all
Him
commands us to seek and love our neighbor self, who is the source of all good.
God Him-
proposed to
ourselves
that
that which
we have
in loving
to say, that
life
for ourselves, a
good
should desire for him, as in this world, and in the next eter-
we
nal happiness.
ices
In our neighbor, we should love his virtues and not hifi to do otherwise, would be to hate and not love him. ;
Have you no
before you ?
charity towards your brother whom you see I doubt, then, whether you have any for God, Whom you do not see. are, then, under an obligation to love each other ; and God, Who has commanded it, is the
We
He is its beginning and are without love for our brethren, who are visible and manifest to the eyes of our body, it is in vain that
If
we
482
msTDsr ot
stf.
bebnibsl
we seek God and charity witt the eyes of the soul neithei The one cannot be there without of them dwell with ns. the other for God and charity are one and the same. We
;
if they be good people and servants of God ; if they be not so, we owe more affection to strangers in whom we may meet with those holy
^the bonds of nature not being so strong as those of grace, and the blood which flows in our veins less to be loved by us than the precious blood of Jesus Christ.
dispositions
It
is,
movements and
its
impossible that we should confer benefits equally upon aU, we should reserve our zealous care especially for those whom time, place, and a thousand othei
circumstances, appear to recommend most to our attention ; and we should desire, at the same time, for all, that they
may
life
because charity, in
its
mtense ardor, embraces the salvation of all men. As to works of mercy, we should perform them in just proportion,
giving
more or
less,
And
thus,
my
dear
order of true and perfect charity, we shall infaUibly arrive at the gate of everlasting salvation.
And
"
God we ought
also to
"
do good to those who hate you, pray for those who persecute you, that you may be truly the children of your Father, Who is in heaven." Those, then, do not love God wl^ hate
men
love
Him.
Charity
is
the source of
their
all
the virtues.
It
is
she alone
life, gives vain for us to try to cultivate them ; all our works will be dead works. I repeat here what I have already said Qc4
who
them
it is in
himself
thing.
48t
Where charity does not reign, the passions and thfe lusti f the flesh rule. The torch of faith, if it be not lighted by
the
fire
to eternal happiness.
himself.
it,
of charity, will never last long enough to guide ua He who loves not God cannot love
There is no true virtue without charity ; and with there grows up within us every perfection which can belong to a mere creature.
Unite yourself, then, dear
sister,
to Jesus Christ
by the
sweet bonds of charity, and never cease to nourish in your Boul this holy fire of His chaste love. Look with an eye of
contempt upon all the beauties of this visible word, upon all its vain amusements sigh after the happy moment which
;
will deliver
this exile in which you languish, this prison in which you are held captive, and reunite you to the Beloved object of your desh-es, of all your thoughts, of all
you from
your anxieties. Hearken, my pious and wise sister, to the *' words of the Heavenly Spouse Those who love Me," *' shall be loved Father. I also will love 8ays He, by My
:
them and
will
Let
us, then,
dear
we remain
in this
life, if
we
desire
SAINTS.
the courage of sinners and to fortify the courage of the just. From their falls and their repentance, we learn never to
allow ourselves to despair, however great may be the multitude of our sins ; and we gain this confidence that the same
precipice, is at all
times ready to give us aid, if we implore it with humility ; 80 that, even after having lost the grace of God, we should
not lose hope, calling to mind that His goodness, which ia Infinite, can, in one moment, repair all the evils of our soul,
4S4
HISTORY OF
ST.
BERNARD.
We
in
which we
have, also, before our eyes the image of their virtues, cannot go may find admirable models.
We
astray on the road wherein we have been preceded by such guides ; and, as heaven has been the end of their earthly pilgrimage, we have no excuse if we allow ourselves to lose
our way, by deviatmg from the route which they have These servants of God, having been, like
but, continuing always to
rest here
they never ceased for a single moment to sanctify themselves by the practice of good works, by vigils, fasts, and alms.
To whatever
their
extremities they
reduced,
by
continence,
meekness,
patience,
it
that riches of this world, being almost entirely hidit is very diflBcult to avoid
being lo&t if we seek for them that is, it is best to tread under foot this heap of perishable goods, that all our desires
may be
our reach
turned towards the true goods which are above that the earth was only given us as a place of
;
passage, and that heaven is our country. Such was the delicacy of conscience of these great saints, tiiat they thought it not enough to avoid hatred, quarrels,
anger, vainglory, envy, incontinence, and all such sins, which are mortal wounds to the soul, but they took care to enchain,
it were, their senses, to subject to rule the slightest acts of their minds, and the least movement of their bodies, which could trouble their timid consciences, and injure, in the least
as
over the body and the soul over the soul, to purge it from all vice ; over the body, to govern its appetites remembe^ " these words of St. Paul If you live according to tht ing
; :
They watched
equally
flesh,
you
by
mortification of
ADYIGS TO
mS
SIOTEB.
48ft
the
same time,
If
extinguished.
we
comiiHi
f aity of the Saints, let their lives be the constant model ours ; and, having before our eyes the picture of such \ng\
rirtues, shall
we not be inexcusable
is
if
we
and
equally binding upon all men, thus living, as it were, in our sight in the example of rach great saints, invite nay, constrain ^us to do good ?
If
it
we
fiod ourselves
strong enough to resist that of the good ? ftn4, being but too easy in yielding to evil, shall we only ihow ourselves
rebellious
and perverse
in refusing to f'^Jlow
what
is
good
my
dear
siste^,
nation.
Jelf
We
itot
had
should certainly be less criminal, if God himgranted ns so many living lamps to enlighten
our path ; and we cannot doubt that, accordingly as we shall have imitated, or disdained to follow, the great examples
which
He
we
has been pleased to place before our eyiw, life, the crowns which these faith-
ful imitators
we
shall find
His eternal
I pray of Him, with all the ardor of my soul, that with His mighty hand He would imprint deeply in your heart the image of all the virtues which have been manifested upon
earth.
ter,
The humility of Jesus Christ, the fervor of St. Pethe love of St. John, fhe obedience of Abraham, the patience of Isaac, the constancy of Jacob, the chastity of
Joseph, the meekness of Moses, the generosity of Joshua, Che clemency of Samuel, the mercy of David, the continence
of Daoiel
^in
one word,
may
all
that
is
most perfect
in tbt
486
BISTORT or
8T.
BSRVIBD.
sonl,
that you
may
obtain a share of
crowns.
Consider,
with life, what they did to please God what submission, what firmness, what austerity they walked in His ways. Let us follow the road which they have trod*
every day of your
den
*et
behind them
cence,
us seek attentively the traces which they have left leading, like them, a life of labor and inno-
and seductions
of the world
If
you
upon you, so that your actions may serve for an example, let them all be so holy, and let their light shine so brightly,
as to instruct and edify all those over whom you have received any authority. He who conceals his good hfe, resembles a fire which smoulders beneath the ashes
;
those,
on the
contrary,
who animate
others to virtue
by
their hfe
and con-
when he says : Let your hght so shine before men that they may be witnesses of your good actions, and render glory to your Father, who is in heaven."
But, take care never to attribute to yourself any share in
this glory
;
from
whom
belongs entirely to the Ahnighty Father, proceeds all the good you have ; and if men apfor
it
plaud any action which is visible to them, know that God will be more pleased with the mtention which is not visible
In repetition of
all
propose to yourself contmually the example of the Saints, in all your actions, words, and thoughts they are our masters,
;
we must
them.
life
they are our brothers, we our are fathers, we must imitate they be a model to ours ; let not then* ad;
mirable lessons be one day a subject of confusion to us, nor xpoee tis to a late repentance, for having disdained to fol-
481
low such snre and boly goidance. If you imitate them, the wicked themselves will be constrainiea to give testimony in
your favor, and you will thus add to the many benefits that you have gaimed from them, that of a good reputation ; for
the opinion of men, even though it may not always agree with that of God, must not be despised. It is sometunes a
misfortune to good people to have lost, even unjustly, the honor which they have acquired in the world. You should
preserve
terest
it,
in-
and glory of God, and take the greatest care to prevent your reputation from being sullied.
...
Dear
sister,
whom
imited with you on earth, by the bonds of a tender and I hope, also, that we may offfft spiritual friendship ^yes,
be ie{)arated throughoat
all
eternity