J&t. itfetnatto.
LIFE AND WORKS
OF SAINT BERNARD,
ABBOT OF CLA1RVAUX.
EDITED BY
DOM. JOHN MABILLON,
Presbyter and Monk of the Benedictine Congregation of S. Maur.
Translated and Edited with Additional Notes,
BY
SAMUEL J. EALES, M.A., D.C.L.,
Sometime Principal of S. Boniface College, Warminster.
SECOND EDITION.
VOL. I.
LONDON: BURNS & OATES LIMITED.
NEW YORK, CINCINNATI & CHICAGO: BENZIGER BROTHERS.
EMMANUBi
A
$ t fo je s :
SOUTH COUNTIES PRESS LIMITED.
.NOV 20 1350
CONTENTS.
I. PREFACE TO ENGLISH EDITION
II. GENERAL PREFACE... ... i
III. BERNARDINE CHRONOLOGY ... 76
IV. LIST WITH DATES OF S. BERNARD S LETTERS... gi
V. LETTERS No. I. TO No. CXLV ... ... 107
PREFACE
TO
THE ENGLISH EDITION.
THERE are so many things to be said respecting the career
and the writings of S. Bernard of Clairvaux, and so high are
the praises which must, on any just view of his character, be
considered his due, that an eloquence not less than his own
would be needed to give adequate expression to them.
He was an untiring and transcendently able labourer ;
and that in many fields. In all his manifold activities
are manifest an intellect vigorous and splendid, and a
magnetic attractiveness of personal character which never
failed to influence and win over others to his views. His
entire disinterestedness, his remarkable industry, the soul-
subduing eloquence which seems to have been equally
effective in France and in Italy, over the sturdy burghers
of Liege and the turbulent population of Milan, and above
all the wonderful piety and saintliness which formed the
noblest and the most engaging of his gifts these qualities,
and the actions which came out of them, rendered him
the ornament, as he was more than any other man, the
leader, of his own time, and have drawn upon him the
admiration of succeeding ages.
We have to look at S. Bernard in more than one capacity.
First and chiefly, he was a monk, for he lived in an age
when the most elevated religious enthusiasm inevitably
took the form of the monastic vocation. Nor is it difficult
viii PRFEACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION.
to see why this was necessarily the case. In the eleventh
and twelfth centuries war, public or private, was the chief
business of princes and nobles, and a constant incident of
the daily life of the masses of the common people. But
always when the world lives in a state of war, religion is
driven to take the incorporated or associate (i.e., the
monastic) form by a kind of unconscious reaction, and
indeed, in order to maintain its existence at all. Exagger
ated forms generate each other in turn ; and the idealized
unworldliness of the monastic theory was the virtual protest,
and a very needful one, against the coarseness and cruelty of
the world as it stood. Monastic institutions satisfied, in fact,
the conscience of the age, and were popular because they
did so. Even so gifted a man as Bernard, we may venture
to believe, would not have been nearly so influential had he
been anything but a monk ; because monachism was the
expression, and the necessary expression, of the religious
sentiment of those times. How deeply the monastic theory
was graven into the consciousness of the twelfth century is
shown by the practical paradox attempted, and actually
accomplished for a time, in the welding together of charac
ters absolutely contradictory the soldier and the monk,
in the Knights Templars, the Knights of Calatrava and
Alcantara, and other military Orders.
S. Bernard, then, was a monk and an ascetic, and as such
the foremost in power and influence of his time. He was
not only practically the founder of the great Cistercian
Order, which was frequently called by his name, 1 but to him
was owing in great measure, though not wholly, that
general reform of the monastic Orders which restored for a
time the austerity of the ancient discipline, and even sur-
1 The monks of Abbeys dependent upon Clairvaux, were frequently called
Hernardines.
PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. ix
passed it. So great was the enthusiasm which he inspired
that thousands of eager postulants, drawn from all classes,
crowded into the convents which were reorganized or
founded by him. Knights, nobles, ladies of the highest
rank, were among these ardent devotees, and that in large
numbers. Even reigning sovereigns, in not a few instances,
descended from their thrones before middle life was well
over and entered some convent. Clairvaux, while he pre
sided over it, sent out parties of its monks to found new
monasteries, at the average rate of four every year, as may
be noted in our Table of Bernardine Chronology. At the
death of S. Bernard the number of Cistercian Abbeys
exceeded five hundred, and to such a degree did this
enthusiasm grow that in 1142 the kingdom of Portugal
declared itself a fief of the Abbey of Clairvaux. Under
the influence of S. Bernard the endurance of austerities
became a passion to be eagerly sought, not a penance re
luctantly submitted to, and the heavier and sharper was the
Cross voluntarily borne, the greater was held to be its glory.
Not only was he the head of this great Order, but for a
whole generation his influence was paramount over the
Church. He was, more than any of the Popes who succeeded
each other at such short intervals, " the governing head of
Christendom," 1 to whom every subject of importance was
sure to be, in some form, referred, and the expression of
whose view was equivalent to a judgment upon it. He had
received, in the view of his contemporaries, unctio ilia qux
docet de omnibus. His voice was the most trusted and
authoritative in Europe, though he was no Bishop nor
Archbishop, but only a simple Abbot. When, at the Council
of Etampes, he opened his mouth to declare to King Louis
VI. and all the prelates of France that Innocent, and he
1 Milman, Latin Christianity, B. viii. p. 302.
X PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION.
alone, was the legitimate Pope, his words were taken as the
decision of the Holy Ghost, and unhesitatingly acted upon.
Henry I. of England, the Emperor Lothair of Germany, and
the Count of Aquitaine, yielded to the force of his argu
ments, or to the winning power of his remarkable per
sonality, and acknowledged Innocent as Pope, abandoning
his rival.
It is no wonder that to those who looked on at these
astonishing facts, occurring one after another, the character
and the powers of the Abbot of Clairvaux should have seemed
truly Apostolic. They saw what in that age seemed mar
vellous in the extreme a monk, poor, infirm, and obscure,
yet the counsellor, reverenced and obeyed, of sovereigns,
and even of Popes. Nor was there any adventitious or
worldly reason to account for this profound influence which
he exercised. In him the ascendency of a higher intellect,
of a nobler spiritual nature, a purer and more elevated
purpose, of a truly religious force, in short, was felt by all.
A halo of sanctity surrounded the head of the humble
Bernard, and whenever a difficult question of ecclesiastical
polity or of personal duty perplexed Prince, or Bishop, or
monk, the great Abbot of Clairvaux was constantly the
chosen referee. It would be easy to adduce instances of
this, even from the few specimens of letters to him which
are still extant, although the great mass of his correspond
ence has naturally perished.
As a theologian he was equally distinguished. Though
he was not unacquainted with the writings of the Fathers
and earlier commentators, his own expositions owe little to
these. They have an individuality that shows them to be
the utterances of a single mind. He treats all subjects on
the grand scale ; refers all actions to spiritual standards,
and both illustrates and determines the question he is
PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. xi
treating by principles and sanctions drawn from the most
unexpected quarters, and frequently from the most awful
heights of authority. He has the imagination of a poet ;
and his works are full of word-pictures which glow and
sparkle like gems, even at the present day, through the
medium of the stiff and scholastic Latin in which they are
set. In his writings there are not a few of those
jewels five-words-long
That on the stretched forefinger of all Time
Sparkle for ever.
Mysticism from his mouth drops most of its question
able tendencies, and becomes a thing to charm the de
votional mind, and to lift the thoughtful into new and
loftier regions of emotion. He is a mystic undoubtedly,
but after the manner of S. Ephrem Syrus and S. Gregory
the Great rather than of Eckart (b. 1260), Tauler (b. 1290),
or even of his contemporaries Hugo and Richard of S.
Victor, though these latter approach much nearer to him
than the former. It is essentially a pure and spiritual
mysticism that he inculcates, clear of all the actual sounds,
sights, and odours, celestial music, Elysian fragrance,
miraculous visitations, such as appear for example in the
writings of S. Theresa; though no doubt occasional ex
travagances of language may be found in his writings,
particularly in his Sermons on the Canticles. Once, indeed,
he relates that the Saviour came down from heaven, and
entered into his soul; but he relates even this great distinc
tion shown to him hesitatingly and with a reluctance and
modesty in every way honourable to him. And he takes
care to make it quite clear that this was a purely spiritual
event, attended by no outward manifestations : " Ita igitur
intrans ad me aliquoties Verbum Sponsus, nullis unquam
introitum suum indiciis innotescere fecit, non voce, non
Xll PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION.
specie, nonincessa. Nullis denique suis motibus compertum
est mihi, nullis meis sensibus illapsiim penetralibus meis :
tantum ex motu cordis sicut prscfatus sum, intellexi
prsesentiam ejus ; et ex fugd -vitiorum, carnaliumque
compress tone affectuum . . . percepi utcunque speciem
decor is ejus." *
To a certain extent it is no doubt the case that besides
being a mystical theologian, he was a mystic in another
sense, that of being a thcurgist, i.e., one who claimed to
exercise supernatural power. It is unquestionable that he
is said by his biographers to have performed vast numbers of
miracles. At some periods of his life, e.g., during his pro
gress through the cities of north Italy on behalf of Pope
Innocent, and his preaching of the Second Crusade in the
Rhineland, almost every action of his was regarded as
miraculous, and every word he spoke as a prophecy. The
possessed, the blind, the deaf and dumb, the fever stricken,
and even the dying, he cured by the laying on of his hands.
He worked marvellous cures with the sign of the Cross,
with the sacramental Elements, with the touch of his vest
ments. He is said to have once performed thirty-six
miraculous cures in a single day ; and it was calculated
that during this Rhineland mission he healed an average
of thirty persons daily. One of the most striking we had
almost written of the most awful instances in history of
the magnificent power of a firmly-rooted faith, is the
account of S. Bernard s confronting William, Count of
Aquitaine, bearing in his hands the sacramental species,
and thus breaking down his opposition to the religious
peace of the State.
But this subject of S. Bernard s miracles we have only
space just to mention here, and must hope to be enabled
i Serm. in Cantica, Ixxiv, 5, 6.
PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. xiii
to consider it at greater length in the Life of S. Bernard,
which will, it is hoped, conclude this edition of his
works.
For a similar reason we merely refer to Bernard in his
capacity as the antagonist of the brilliant and able Peter
Abaelard ; as the mission-preacher among the simple
countrymen of Languedoc ; or, lastly, as the Apostle of the
Second Crusade, that unfortunate enterprise in which so
many predictions were falsified, and so many lives hope
lessly thrown away.
Bernard being such as he was, it is a matter of surprise
that his works, almost alone among those of the Fathers,
have never yet appeared in the English language. To the
English reader the Sermons and Treatises of " The Last of
the Fathers " are a rich mine, as yet unworked and almost
unknown. Sundry versions of parts of the Works have
been published by various persons at long intervals.
The following will be found (it is believed) a tolerably complete English
bibliography of this subject :
1. The Meditatons of Saint Bernard, translated by a Student of the Unyversity
of Cambrydge. (Wynkyn the Worde [sic], Westmester, 1496, and again
in IS4S-) 1
2. An Epistle called the golden epistle (T. God fray, London), 1530. (?)
3. Edited by Robert Whetford (Wynkyn
de Worde, London), 1531. (?)
4. An Epistle called the golden epistle. (Rob. Wyer, London, 1531-)
5. A compedius and a moche fruytefull treatyse of well liuynge. Translated
by Thomas Paynell, London, Thomas Petyt. 8vo. 2
6. How to Live Well. Translated by C. B. Tyrwhitt. Oxford. 1886.
1 This is Meditationes piissimcE, not by S. Bernard.
2 The date of this may be gathered approximately from the fact that it contains
a dedication to the Princess Mary, daughter of K. Henry VIII., i.e., between 1526
and 1553. There is another edition by John Byddell, n. d. I2mo. This is the
Liber de mudo lene Vivendi, ad Sororem, which is probably not by S. Bernard.
Mabillon says of it that " it is consistent neither with the circumstances of
Bernard nor those of his sister Humbeline."
XIV PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION.
7. Devout Meditations of S. Bernard, Or, his Book of the Soul, made English
by G. Stanhope. 1701.
8. S. Bernard his Meditations, by W. P., M r. of Arts in Cambridge. 1631.
9. A Monomachie of Motives in the Mind of Man. A. Fleming. 1582.
10. A Hive of sacred Honicombes. Translated by A. Batt. Doway, 1631.
11. Christian Doctrine and Practice in the Twelfth Century. (Small Books on
Great Subjects.) London. 1841.
12. Flowers of S. Bernard, selected and translated. London. 1870.
13. The Virgin Mother of God. Selections from S. Bernard arr. and trans, by
a Secular Priest. London and Derby. 1886.
14. Sermon on Cant. I, 5, on the death of his brother Gerard. 1858.
15. Sermons for the Seasons of the Church. Trans, by VV. B. Flower.
London. 1861.
1 6. Four Homilies on the Incarnation. Edinburgh. 1843.
17. Glories of the Virgin Mother. By a Catholic Priest. Boston (U.S.). 1869.
1 8. S. Bernard on the Love of God. Transl. by M. C. and C. Patmore
London, ist ed. 1881 ; 2nd, 1884.
19. The Holy War. Trans, by S. R. M[aitland]. Gloucester. 1827.
20. Letter of S. Bernard to Thomas of Beverley, on Conversion. Trans, by
R. Collins. 1856.
21. The Mystic Vine. 1 Trans, by W. R. Brownlow. 1873.
22. ,, ,, Translated by Samuel J. Bales, D.C.L. London. 1889.
23. A Legendary Psalter of S. Bernard. London: Percy Society. 1842.
24. Rhythmical Prayer to the Sacred Members of Jesus. Rendered into Eng
lish Rhythm by C. M. Shapcote. London. 1879.
25. S. Bernard s Verses containing the unstable felicitic of this wayfaring
world. (R. Edwards, Poet) 1596.
26. The same. R. Collier. 1867.
27. A joyful ballad of the Name of Jesus. Trans, by T. G. Crippen. London.
1867.
28. The Jubilee Rhythm of S. Bernard. Trans, by Alfred Edersheim, D.D.
London. 1867.
BIOGRAPHIES.
29. Life of S. Bernard. Dublin. 1854.
30. Life of S. Bernard. Derby. 1858.
31. Biography of S. Bernard (Four Ecclesiastical Biographies), by J. H.
Gurney. S.P.C.K. 1864.
32. Bernard of Clairvaux. A Biography, by T. M. Lindsay. 1882.
33. The Life and Times of S. Bernard. By Dr. Augustus Neander. Trans.
from the German by Matilda Wrench. London. I2mo. 1843.
34. Life and Times of S. Bernard. By James Cotter Morison, M.A. London.
1884.
35. The Sweet Song of S. Bernard Cjesu ! dulcis memoria), newly translated
by the Rev. George Peirce Grar.tham. London: s.d, 1886. (?)
1 This is not by S. Bernard, though it has long been printed with his works.
PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. xv
It ought, however, to be mentioned here that it was
at one time proposed by the Rev. Frederick Oakeley,
then Fellow of Balliol College, Oxford, and the Rev. J. S.
Brewer, of Queen s College, Oxford, to translate and publish
a complete edition of the Works of S. Bernard. Their pro
spectus (which is now before the Editor) was issued, it is
believed, about 1844; but events which speedily followed
prevented its being carried out.
The present Edition may be regarded as a revival of that
plan. One single aim has been, and will be, pursued
throughout by the Editor: that of producing a translation
as faithful and complete as possible ; and the Notes have
been confined to elucidations or illustrations of the text
without any comment whatever from a doctrinal point of
view. The following observations made by the two scholars
just mentioned, in their original proposal, may be quoted
here, as they exactly express the position taken up in the
present Edition, and the reasons for it :
" It is to be distinctly understood that the various parties
who may be concerned in this undertaking pledge themselves
by the act no farther than to the opinion that it is, on the
whole, desirable to promote acquaintance with the writings
of this great Saint, and that in an unmutilated form. Any
omission would seem to involve an expression of opinion
both upon the part excluded and the part retained."
The Editor feels that the right course is : to avoid in
truding the expression of his personal view of S. Bernard s
writings, as they are one after another translated : to put
before readers, to the best of his power, the exact equiva
lent of what his author wrote : and then to leave it to speak
for itself. He can hardly hope that in so great a mass of
translation some inaccuracies will not have crept in ; but a
certain degree of consideration will no doubt be given to
xvi PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION,
one who presents these writings for the first time in Eng
lish. Letters 127-173 and 175-298 ( both inclusive), with
their appendant notes, have been translated by the Rev. W.
F. Cobb, B.A., T.C.D. All the rest, with the Prefaces,
Chronology, and Notes, by the Editor, and he is also re
sponsible for the whole. Notes which he has added are dis
tinguished by the letter [E.], or by [Trans.].
The references to Scripture have been made accordant
with the Authorized Version, and the wording of that Ver
sion has been generally adhered to. But S. Bernard, of
course, quotes the Vulgate; and the Vulgate has many
renderings peculiar to itself, upon which, not unfrequently,
he founds his exposition or his argument, which would be
deprived of much of its appropriateness, or even rendered
altogether meaningless, by the substitution of other words
in the quotation. When this is the case, a translation of
the text of the Vulgate is given, distinguished by the note
(VULG.).
Vols. I. and II. are occupied mostly with the General
Introduction and the Letters, which it seemed imperative to
give first. But the characteristic excellences of S. Ber
nard s writings will be put fairly before the reader in Vols.
III. and IV., which will contain a mass of S. Bernard s Ser
mons for the Christian year, and will, it is hoped, be issued
at the end of 1889.
SOLI DEO GLORIA.
SAMUEL J. EALES.
GENERAL PREFACE
OF DOM JOHN MABILLON
To HIS SECOND EDITION OF THE
WORKS OF S. BERNARD.
I. After I had given the first-fruits of my studies to the
works of S. Bernard, I never so far put out of my mind that
first edition of them as to cease to think of completing, of
perfecting, and if I saw the necessity, of entirely recasting
it. Since I was at that time very young, and an unskilful
beginner, when I set my hand to that first task, I did not
think the work so perfect and correct in all respects, as
that with longer experience and greater literary skill, I
should not be able to find many passages in Bernard of which
the text might be better established, and the meaning made
clearer by more laborious notes. Wherefore, although in
course of time, the direction of my studies had taken me
far away from that great Doctor, yet my memory of the
holy man and my affection for him remained so great, that
whenever in reading and studying other authors, anything
came before me which might later on be of use to me for
settling the text of his works, or illustrating it, I carefully
made note of it, and laid it aside in readiness for the pre
paration, in due time, of a second edition. During a long
period my other labours altogether absorbed my attention so
as to hinder my occupying myself with such a task ; but at
length the taste for other literary occupations weakened,
and in these times of continual wars, grew cold, and I was
left \vith my S. Bernard only on my hands, as the occupa
tion of that leisure which advancing age afforded, as it had
been of the first years of my manhood. Gladly then,
VOL. I. i
2 GENERAL PREFACE.
by the indulgence of my Superiors, did I devote this leisure
to throwing fresh light upon an author who so well deserves
his high repute ; and I cannot refrain from saying that my
coadjutors, and I myself, have devoted all our care and
diligence to make this edition, not so much a reissue of the
former, as an entirely new, and as far as we could make it,
a perfected edition.
II. There will, perhaps, be some who disapprove of these
repeated editions, and blame them as being of more incon
venience than advantage in study. Nor do I deny that it
would be very desirable that authors should, in the very
first edition, be presented in as near an approach to per
fection as is possible to be attained. But those who are
acquainted with that kind of labour are not ignorant of the
difficulty, not to say the absolute impossibility, of succeeding
in editing perfectly an author whose works are contained in
so great a number of ancient copies, scattered in places far
removed from each other, and presenting among themselves
so great a number of differences. So that after much and
o
long labour in getting together a great number of copies,
and not only of complete volumes, but of leaves scattered
here and there, there is sometimes need of an ^Idipus as
an interpreter to determine the text of the author in the
midst of a crowd of variant readings, to correct passages
which had been badly treated, to throw light upon obscuri
ties, and to distinguish between works which are authentic
and others which are not. To succeed in all these objects,
and to produce at the first attempt a perfect work, there
will be need of a genius and a degree of good fortune,
which I am far from possessing, nor do I know whether
anyone could claim to have it. However that may be, I
prefer to ask pardon for the fault of rashness (if the fact be
so) in attempting my first edition, than either to increase
my fault by making excuses, or to leave my former edition
imperfect. This is why I have thought it my duty to
GENERAL PREFACE. 3
undertake a new and more correct one, executed with
greater care. I have, then, collated anew the text of the
holy Doctor with the most ancient copies that I could
procure ; and lastly, have bound myself \vith my com
panions once more to the wearisome labours of the printing
office, being cheered by an assured confidence that those
who are wise will welcome not ungratefully my plan and my
new labours, especially when they shall know the reasons
which have prompted the undertaking of this new edition,
and have understood fully the advantages which, as I hope,
it will offer.
I. OF THE DIFFERENT EDITIONS OF THE WORKS OF
S. BERNARD : THE CAUSES, REASONS, ADVANTAGES,
AND USEFULNESS OF THIS NEW EDITION.
III. In the first place, nothing shows more the value and
the merit of the works of S. Bernard, than the number of
editions which have appeared of them, both before and after
the invention of printing. The number of these is a proof
how eagerly the works of Bernard were procured by many
persons, and how much they were read and admired by all ;
nor is this to be wondered at ; for in his writings shines
forth an intellect endued with nobility, power, and eleva
tion, united with gentleness, urbanity, and virtue. Elo
quence is natural to him, an eloquence unpretending and
unforced, though not without ornament. His style is
nervous, his discourse vigorous, his language appropriate,
his thoughts elevated, his sentiments pious, his humour not
laboured, his whole discourse breathing of God and heavenly
things. The fire of his zeal burns not to consume, but to in
flame with itself. He makes the point of his weapon felt, and
pierces, not to irritate but to move to action. He criticizes,
he blames, but so as to attract, not to excite antipathy.
He accuses, he threatens, he terrifies, but always in love,
never in anger. He soothes, but does not flatter; he
4 GENERAL PREFACE.
praises, but without extravagance. He urges, but with
kindness; he reproves, without being offensive ; he charms,
he pleases, and he delights. His discourse, says Sixtus of
Sienna, is everywhere sweet, and yet fiery; it so delights and,
at the same time, inflames, that honey and milk seem to flow
together from his persuasive tongue, while jets of fire and
flame burst from his heart of fire. As for his knowledge, it
was far beyond the common, and was fed with the sap and
the very words of the Holy Scripture; and he so took into
his heart the sayings of the Fathers as to make them entirely
his own. He writes with such originality of Divine things,
of grace and free-will, of the office and of the proper
character of Bishops, of clerks, of monks, or of lay people,
that his teaching shows him to be, as it were, a fountain,
not a river or canal. 1 Can we wonder if a man so gifted is
appreciated and his works sought out, read, and studied by
all the world ? If editions of them without number appear,
and if learned and experienced men employ their labour
to augment, illustrate, and restore them to their original
integrity ? If Rome herself, lady and mistress of the world,
which once received with veneration the instructions and
even the reprimands of Bernard ; if Rome, I say, herself
suffered the Books de Consideratione, which were first pre
sented to Eugenius III., which Nicolas V. caused to be
copied out with the greatest care, at length to be pub
lished from the Papal Press under Clement VIII., and
would have published the entire works of Bernard if Gerard
Voss had been willing to undertake to edit them ? What
is less to be wondered at after this, is that in the capital of
France, of which Bernard is one of the greatest lights, he
has deservedly received the honour of the Royal Press.
IV. There are, however, other causes, some of them
proper and even necessary, why so many editions and col
lations of the works of Bernard have been made. One,
1 Which borrows its stream from elsewhere. [E.]
GENERAL PREFACE. 5
and, indeed, the chief is, that the writings of the holy
Doctor have been very widely scattered in various and
very numerous MSS., of which not all could possibly find
place in a first edition. These are brought to the light
one after the other as fast as they fall into the hands or
come to the knowledge of scholars.
The first edition appears to have been that which Peter
Schoeffer issued at Mayence in 1475; it contained Sermons
de Tempore, those de Sanctis, also those de Diversis, and
the Book ad Milites Templi, with some others, rightly
attributed to Bernard.
About the same time appeared at Rouen, without any
date, three Treatises of the blessed Father, viz., the Books
de Consider atione, the Apologia to Abbot William, and
the Book de Prsecepto et Dispensatione.
In 1481 appeared at Brussels an edition, without name
of editor or printer, which contained the Sermons de Tern-
pore and de Sanctis, and certain of the Letters then pub
lished for the first time.
In 1494, at Paris, an edition containing three hundred
and ten Letters, with the Sermons in Cantica, edited and
corrected by Magister Rouald, Doctor in Theology.
The edition of Spires appeared in 1501. Two years
later appeared that of Venice, but without the Letters, and
already occupied to the extent of almost half by apocry
phal writings and works of other authors.
Possevin places that of Brescia in the year 1495 ; it con
tained the Homilies on the Missus est, and some other
Treatises.
The first edition of S. Bernard containing almost all his
collected works is that of Paris, in 1508, called the Seraphic
edition ; and is said at the commencement to comprise the
works of S. Bernard the Doctor, mellifluous and devoted,
compared then for the first time, and with the greatest care,
with the originals in the library of Clairvaux, and arranged
6 GENERAL PREFACE.
into a single volume by the care and industry of Magister
John Bocard, and at the cost of John Lepetit, sworn
librarian of the University of Paris.
Six years later, in 1515, Jodocus Clictoveus, of Nieu-
port, revised the preceding edition and republished it at
Lyons, the printer being a German, John Klein, adding to
it the Sermons in Cantica of Gilbert of Hoyland ; it was
then many times reprinted both at Paris and at Lyons. In
1520 appeared another edition at Lyons by two monks of
Clairvaux, Lambert Deschamps and Laurence of Dantzig,
much more correct than all the others.
After these appeared many other editions, which I pass
over without notice to come to that which Francis Comestor,
of Arnay-le-Duc, a fellow of the College of the Sorbonne,
undertook, to contain all the works of the holy Doctor, with
an Epistle Dedicatory to Louis de Rie, Bishop of Geneva,
in which he says that, in examining the ancient books, in
which the library of the College of the Sorbonne was then
very rich, he had happened upon an Appendix to the Book
de Diligendo Deo, which was not found in any preceding
edition, and afterwards upon a Treatise de Amore Dei ac
Dignitate Amor is ; he printed these books with the works
of S. Bernard, at the office of the Veuve Claude Chevallon
in 1547.
This edition was reprinted many times, which, however,
did not prevent Antoine Marcellin from publishing another
at Bale in 1552, which was printed by John Hervage. He
prepared it, he says, with the greatest care, after consulting
very ancient copies, and examined the whole works afresh
and gave them in a different order, so that the Sermons
were put in the first place, the Letters followed, then the
Treatises, and lastly the writings attributed to S. Bernard,
with some by other authors.
Before the edition of which we have just spoken, one
appeared at Venice, of which mention is made by John
GENERAL PREFACE. y
Guillot, of Champagne, in the preface he wrote for the
edition of Nivelles, published at Paris in 1572, and in which
he speaks of a collation of the various texts undertaken by
the theologians of the Faculty of Paris, who corrected the
latest editions as well according to their own knowledge as
with the help of all the MSS. they could draw from the
various libraries of France. So that, says Guillot, to
attempt to correct again after so many scholars, and those
of such mark, would be to try to cure a man already quite
well, which did not all the same prevent his declaring that he
had made many important corrections. He divided, also, into
chapters, with analytic titles, the Books de Consider atione,
addressed to Pope Eugenius, and the Book de Prxcepto et
Dispensatione, the text of which Henry Cuyck, of Gutten-
berg, had corrected by collation with seven MS. copies. He
takes great care, also, to separate the authentic works of S.
Bernard from those which are spurious, and to arrange the
former in a more reasonable and convenient order. Never
theless, Guillot leaves among the genuine works some
spurious, either already included, or added for the first
time; also Flowers collected from the works of S. Bernard.
But six years previously, in 1566, had appeared at Paris,
the publishers being William Merlin and Sebastian de
Nivelles, another edition; the Letter from the same Francis
Comestor, who was lately mentioned with praise, to the
Bishop of Geneva, being prefixed. It was enlarged by an
Appendix Hcrvagiana published at Bale by the successors
of John Hervage, under the care of James Pamelius, of
Bruges, who published also sixteen brief Sermons by S.
Bernard, the Parable concerning Christ and the Church, a
book of Soliloquies, and some other writings attributed to
Bernard.
The same year Louis le Mire, of Rosay, caused to be
printed at Paris, by Charlotte Guillard, another Appendix
which he had received from Francis Comestor.
8 GENERAL PREFACE.
I pass over a great many other editions which appeared
during this epoch. Indeed, scarcely a year passed without
its being signalized by the appearance of one. The finest
of all is that which appeared in 1586 under the sign of the
Ship, with a Letter Dedicatory from John Guillot, to the
Reverend Father Guy de Chartres, Abbot of Clairvaux, and
a preface from the same to the reader.
In 1575 Hubert Lescot, Regular Canon, made a transla
tion into French of the greater number of the Sermons
and Treatises of S. Bernard, but without the Letters. These
latter were added in 1622, having been translated by Philip
le Bel, Doctor of the Faculty of Paris, according to what is
stated in the latest version by the Reverend Father Gabriel,
de S. Malachi des Feuillants. 1
V. As for the editions of S. Bernard which have appeared
in our age, it would almost be a never-ending task to
enumerate them, nor is it at all necessary. Two only I am
glad to note, that of Edmund Tiraquellius, a monk of
Citeaux, in the year 1601, the other of Jean Picard in
1609, with notes, some additional Letters, and an Epistle
Dedicatory of Tiraquellius to R. P. Edmund de la Croix,
Abbot of Citeaux, and also a Letter and Preface of Guillot.
This edition of Picard appeared also in the same year at
Antwerp, printed by John Keerberg, and after that was re
printed many times ; until, in 1641, appeared the best and
most accurate of all, that of James Merlon Horst, a most
pious and learned man. That edition threw all others into
the shade, and was reprinted frequently.
VI. It will be well to say a few words respecting the
mode in which this worthy man has prepared his edition.
In the first place he expresses his wonder that since of all
the Fathers of the Church there is none whose works are
more frequently read than Bernard, he should be at the
1 This is a reformed Cistercian Order founded by Jean de la Barriere, Abbot
of Feuillans, with the permission of Gregory XIII. The habit is white. [E.]
GENERAL PREFACE. g
same time that one of whom the editions had been up to
that time most neglected, so that they seemed to become
worse and more defective the more they were multiplied,
as if that Father either did not need any care at all, or
was unworthy of it. He declares that this was the cause
which had moved him to set his hand to cure this evil. He
had submitted the whole of the works to exact and severe
criticism, and divided them into six volumes, of which the
first contained the Letters ; the second the Sermons de
Tempore and de Sanctis ; the third the Sermons in Cantica ;
the fourth various Treatises ; the fifth those writings which
are not by S. Bernard ; and the sixth, those of the two
disciples of the Holy Doctor, Gilbert and Guerric. It is he,
also, who divided the Treatises into chapters and sections,
and has prefixed analytical summaries to each Letter and
Treatise. He spared neither labour nor expense to procure
all the editions of S. Bernard which he could find in the
libraries of different countries, although he was not suc
cessful in obtaining some of the works of that Father, of
which Possevin and others have given a list. Besides
these a great many introductions are added, the life of S.
Bernard in seven books, with various Elogia of the Saint,
and a chronology. Finally, he has inserted lengthy Notes,
besides those shorter ones which are inserted in the margin
throughout the work, with very full Indexes of the places of
Scripture, of subjects, and of the names mentioned by S.
Bernard. The reader cannot help recognizing the immense
labour with which he has endeavoured to make his edition
absolutely accurate. Unfortunately the work of the printer
has not altogether corresponded to his wishes. This learned
man was preparing an edition more complete and more
careful still when he died, on the 2oth April, 1644.
VII. Nevertheless it cannot be questioned that Horst
was happily enabled to bring that first edition to a degree
of perfection as complete as was possible to a man who,
10 GENERAL PREFACE.
though learned, diligent, and most studious of his author,
was working alone: so that his edition was received with
both hands (as the saying is), approved and very often
reprinted in various countries and places. But our illus
trious Claude Cantelou, having collated, at the order of our
superiors, the text of Horst with many MSS. in France,
discovered in his work certain faults which required to be
corrected by the aid of our Codices, and he published the
corrected text of the Sermons de Tempore and de Sanctis
in a new form. He was preparing with the same care to
publish the rest of the works of S. Bernard, when he died,
and left his work for me to continue. I was then a young
man ; a novice and inexperienced in the literary art, and it
would never have occurred to me to put my labour and know
ledge into comparison with those of the learned Horst, if
our Superior General, the Reverend Abbot Bernard Aude-
bert, of pious memory, had not overcome my scruples and
my reluctance to continue the work of Cantelou after his
death. I obeyed, however, though unwillingly, and with
the useful and valuable help of James Lannoy, who put at
my disposal all the originals of S. Bernard s works which
existed in the library of Citeaux, of which he was abbot, I
succeeded at length in producing an edition in larger
and also in smaller size of S. Bernard, as perfect I do
not say as it might and ought to have been, but as good
as my young inexperience was able to make it, or rather
as the selfishness of the printer, who showed himself
more careful to serve his own interests than those of
the public, would allow it to be.
VIII. But with time and experience in that kind of labour,
I accumulated, day by day, more materials which would be
of use for another and much improved edition of Bernard,
and I continued, as I have said, diligently to collect these, in
order that when time and leisure should permit, I might
make such an edition more correct, more elegant, and more
GENERAL PREFACE. I I
perfect. But when I set myself to the work I found myself
confronted by another difficulty, arising from the unhappy
state of the laws which ruled the press, and from which I
extricated myself at last in any way I could, as if taking
refuge in any harbour attainable from a storm, and in a
manner which there is no need to detail here.
IX. Although it is entirely foreign to my habit and to my
intention to extol my own work, yet it is proper here to
show, in the first place, in what respects this latest edition
differs, as well from that of Horst as from my former
one. I have, first, had the advantage of being able to
collate a number of ancient MSS. which I had not seen at
the time of my former edition, both those which I consulted
and studied in the provinces that I traversed, and in the
Colbertine Library, where Stephen Baluze, a man born to
help and develop learned pursuits, had assembled a great
many copies since my first edition had appeared. I have
thus been able out of the various readings to select and
restore to the text those which seemed most to accord with
the manner and sentiments of Bernard, which pursuit
requires an extensive acquaintance with old books, a tact
acquired by habitude only, and a riper judgment than the
general run of educated persons suppose, who regard us as
collectors of spiders webs when they see the importance
that we attach to those things which they regard as trifles;
but, let that class of men think what they please respecting
me; I do not desire the applause of men for my work, but to
render service to the Church and to the literary fraternity.
X. Nor have I employed the resources of criticism only
in restoring the text, but also in separating the general
writings of Bernard from the suppositious and spurious
writings which had made their way among the genuine, as
well in the edition of Horst as in my former one. Thus
I have expunged two Letters of Bernard Brito which Horst
had placed among those of our Bernard; I have rejected
12 GENERAL PREFACE.
four or five Sermons from those de Tempore and de
Sanctis ; I have rejected also a Book of Declamations,
and some others which were shown by clear signs and
arguments not to be from the pen of Bernard.
XI. For that work of criticism I have found of great
assistance, not only the writers of the Lives of S. Bernard,
and chiefly Geoffrey, which contain a list of the principal
works of the holy Doctor, but also the old MSS., the cita
tions of ancient authors, and, most of all, the ancient
Collection from the writings of Bernard, which is called
Book of Flowers, Florilegium and Bernardinus, first edited
at Paris in 1503. It is much to be preferred to another
collection which was made in 1571 by a Canon Regular
named Hubert Scutepuits, and intruded by John Picard
into his edition of Bernard. That first Collection is far
more ancient, and an old MS. copy at Citeaux has supplied
to us the name of the author, for we find in it these words,
with an inscription following: "Here begins a prologue
of Bernardinus, which Dom Willermus, monk of S. Martin
of Tournay, has extracted and compiled from the books
and sayings of the holy Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux."
That prologue begins thus : " As I was not greatly
occupied in any pursuit," etc., as in the editions in
which the name of the author is wanting; but it is easily
inferred that he must have lived in the thirteenth century,
from the age of the MSS. in which this Collection is found.
The Collector does, indeed, praise certain Treatises as being
Bernard s, which are not his, viz., the Letter to the Brethren
of Mont Dieu, Meditations, and Book of Declamations ;
but, nevertheless, his authority is of considerable weight,
especially in recognizing the Sermons of Bernard. Thus
every time that a doubt arises on any passage of his
writings, as in the Sermons de Diver sis, it seemed advisable
to note these citations out of Bernardinus. Nor is it
wonderful that both the Letter to the Brethren of Mont
GENERAL PREFACE. 13
Dieu, the Declamations, and the Meditations are brought
forward in that Collection under the name of Bernard, since
S. Bonaventure makes the same mistake as to that much-
praised epistle, and the Books of Declamations and Medita
tions appear to be centos out of the writings of Bernard, as
I shall point out in the proper places.
XII. Besides criticism of the books, I have made some
changes in Horst s arrangement, both of the volumes and
of the treatises. He had placed the Sermons de Tempore
and de Sanctis after the Letters ; then came the Sermons
in Cantica and, lastly, the Opuscula and the Treatises. It
appeared to me better that the Opuscula and the Treatises
should follow the Letters, since the former are, for the
most part, written in the form of letters, or have even been
transferred out of that class to rank among the latter.
From this order it results that the Sermons de Tempore
and de Sanctis fall into the third place, and those in Cantica
into the fourth. In the fifth place I have added the
Sermons of Gilbert on the same subject, being a continua
tion of those of Bernard. As to the fifth and sixth volumes,
I will speak more at length in the Preface to Vol. v. or
even in those to the earlier volumes.
XIII. In order that all the genuine works of Bernard
might be contained in one volume, I have placed at the end
of Tome vi. or Vol. ii. the Books of his Life and Actions,
which Horst had put at the beginning of his first volume,
so that neither should the allied works of Bernard be
separated from each other, nor the size of the volumes be
made very unequal. At the end of the first and of the
second volume I have placed very full indexes, the former
of the genuine works of Bernard, the latter of those not by
him.
XIV. The more lengthy notes and observations with
which the Letters and other works of S. Bernard had been
enriched by Horst, or formerly by myself, have been thrown
14 GENERAL PREFACE.
together at the end of each Tome. To the first Tome a short
Chronology is prefixed, which may serve to throw light
upon the notes and provide a solid framework into which
they may be fitted. Such is the character of the improve
ments that I have introduced into this new edition of
Bernard.
XV. To come in particular to the examination of Tome
i., which contains the Letters of Bernard, I have devoted no
little labour to correcting, arranging, illustrating, and
adding to them.
For corrections I have consulted the MSS. in various
libraries ; of the Vatican, of the Colbertine, those of S.
Peter at Ghent, and of Orval in Belgium ; besides those
which I used in my former edition. From one MS. at
Corbey I have restored certain inscriptions of some
importance. By the aid of that MS., and of two others in
the Colbertine of good rank, bearing the numbers of 1410
and 2476, and containing the Opuscula of S. Bernard, with
which I have collated the same Opuscula, I have added for
each Letter marginal notes, which briefly explain any
historical facts referred to.
XVI. Respecting the order of the Letters, I have long
hesitated whether to retain the received order or to adopt a
new one. There were reasons for each course. The
antiquity of the existing order was a reason for retaining it,
for it appears to have been adopted while Bernard was
still living, at least as far as the first 310 Letters, of which the
last is addressed to Arnold, Abbot of Bonneval ; while as
for the others, which were scattered here and there, it was
not until later that they were united to the great body of
Letters ; nor all at once, but only at intervals, as they came
to the knowledge of the editors or collectors. Then one
other reason was in favour of the ancient order, viz., that in
it the order of time was, on the whole, preserved ; whereas
it was to be feared that more inconvenience than usefulness
GENERAL PREFACE. 15
would follow any change of the received order, because of
the numerous citations of the Letters numbered on that
ancient method, without mentioning the fixed and solemn
order of the ancient copies. What, on the contrary, strongly
made for the opposite course was the intolerable confusion
of certain Letters which were arranged at a considerable
distance before those to which they were the replies.
From this results the farther inconvenience that the parts
of a subject are by this faulty arrangement detached from
each other. In these difficulties it seemed best, on the
whole, to take a middle way, and while retaining the
received order for the first 310 Letters, to arrange the re
mainder in order of time, noting in the margin the number
by which each had previously been marked. When in con
sequence of this new arrangement it happens that a Letter
ought to follow some other, we warn the reader to defer it
until the other has been first read ; in that manner we have
both respected the old order, and avoided the confusion
that a new one would have caused.
We have said that the old order, in which we read the
Letters of S. Bernard, seems to have been established even
in the lifetime of their author ; we find the proof of this
in William, formerly Abbot of S. Thierry, who died before
Bernard. For he, in the first book of his Life of the Holy
Doctor, evidently written during the life of Bernard, reports
that his Letter to his relative Robert (n. 50), which had not
been wetted in the midst of a shower of rain, " was not
unjustly placed first by his brethren in the volume of his
Letters because of so great a miracle." The author of the
third Life, who is no other, as we think, than Geoffrey, his
secretary, relates that that arrangement was made by him.
XVII. The order of the Letters is, nevertheless, not quite
uniform in all the old copies, although in most of them
there is no great difference up to Letter 310. There are
not quite so many as this in some copies, from which we
l6 GENERAL PREFACE.
gather that there were, not one collection of the Letters
only, but many. In the three Vatican MSS. these Letters
are included. Of these the finest, No. 662, contains 296, in
nearly the same order as that of the editions ; the last
of these is the Letter addressed to the Irish Brethren on
the death of the blessed Malachi. In another MS., No.
664, there is the same order in 282 Letters ; of which the
last is that to Hugh, Knight of the Temple. The third,
No. 663, contains 240 Letters, arranged in an order entirely
different ; so that the first of that collection, addressed to
Cardinal Haimeric, is the 3i3th in previous editions, and
the last, addressed to Pope Eugenius on the subject of the
Bishop of Autun, is the 275th. In all the other MSS. the
order is pretty nearly the same as in the printed collections,
with the exception of the MS. at S. Peter of Ghent, in
which the collection is divided into three parts, the first
containing 100 Letters, the second 164, the third 76; in
which the last is from John of Casa Mario to Bernard, and
that preceding it, from Bernard to Rorgon of Abbeville.
And perhaps in no other MS. are more Letters of Bernard
collected than in that of Ghent ; and Willermus, the monk
of Tournay, must have had this MS., or one similar to it,
under his eyes in writing his Bernardinus, which was just
now praised, since he quotes the Letters as of the first,
second, or third part. But in the MS. at Clairvaux of the
Cistercian Order there are 307 Letters, and in that at Orval
306 ; each of these having in the last place the Letter to
Abbot Arnold, which was certainly the last which Bernard
wrote. It was without doubt the former of these two
collections that John of Salisbury (Letter 96) begged
Peter de Celles to send to him, as he thanks him "for the
Letters of the blessed Bernard " in the following one.
XVIII. To speak now of the Letters added in this edition
(which are in the last place to be treated of), we ought to
premise that in the first edition of the Letters of Bernard,
GENERAL PREFACE. 17
which appeared at Brussels in 1481 and at Paris in 1494,
there were only 310 Letters, of which the antepenultimate
is that to Arnold, Abbot of Chartres, the penultimate to the
Irish Brethren on the death of the holy Bishop Malachi, and
the last to Guy, Abbot of Moustier-Ramey. But the edition
of 1520, executed by two monks of Clairvaux, as we have
said above, contained in all 351 Letters, of which the last is
addressed to the novice Hugh, who was afterwards Abbot
of Bonneval. The Letter to Arnold is the 3ioth, and that
to the Irish the 3iith. The reason for this difference is
that in the former edition two Letters are wanting, viz., the
84th, which is the second to Simon, Abbot of S. Nicholas,
and the i47th, to Peter, Abbot of Cluny. Jodocus Clictoveus,
in his edition of 1515 and those following, has only 350
Letters in all ; he has omitted that to the novice Hugh,
which was inserted by Antonio Marcellino into the edition
of Bale of 1552, and in all those which followed up to that
of John Picard. This last editor added seventeen new
Letters to those already known, but without arranging them
in order. Two of these Letters are placed at the head of
those which he drew from the MS. of Pithon ; the others
were not published till long after. He had found them in
his library at S. Victor.
Horst omitted certain Letters which had been wrongly
included, and so reduced the number to 366; to which he
added two spurious Letters of Bernard de Brito, seventeen
genuine from certain English MSS., and one of the Abbot
Fastred to finish his volume, which brought the number to
386.
I had myself included eleven new Letters in my first
edition, and in this the number has risen to 482. This
includes not only the twenty-eight Letters of Bernard
recently discovered in Germany, and added in the form of
an Appendix to an edition of Horst published at Cologne,
but also some other Letters of the Saint found elsewhere,
VOL. I. 2
1 8 GENERAL PREFACE.
and some Letters addressed to him, or written concerning
him, which seemed necessary for full understanding of
those which he himself wrote.
I have divided all these Letters into three parts, of
which the first comprises the 310 former Letters retaining
their ancient and common order; the second to the 454th
comprises the rest of the genuine epistles of Bernard ; the
third the doubtful, the spurious, and those written by others.
These are the chief matters which have occupied my atten
tion in editing the first Tome ; other things the diligent
Reader will easily observe.
XIX. I may state here that the Works of Bernard, which
Horst complained were lying hidden in various libraries, are
not from the pen of the Saint ; a fact which I have been
able to ascertain. Thus the book on the Hexaemeron is by
Arnold, Abbot of Bonneval in the Chartrain ; the Com
mentary on the Penitential Psalms by Innocent III. ; the
Exposition of the Psalm Afferte (Ps. xxix) by Richard of
S. Victor; another upon Ps. 1. by Urban II. A Commentary
on the Epistles of S. Paul is, according to Possevin, by
Bernard of Clavone, an Augustine monk. A Commentary
on the Apocalypse has been wrongly attributed by Caramuel
to Bernard, which Commentary, being placed in a MS.
next following some works of Bernard, under the title of
" cujusdam " (of a certain author), Caramuel read " ejus-
dem " (of the same author), and so ascribed it to Bernard,
like the preceding. I am convinced that with the exception
of certain Letters which have not been yet brought to light,
there remain no important works of Bernard unpublished.
These are : A Letter to Hugh, Abbot of Pontigny, as
appears from the first paragraph of Letter 33, addressed to
the same Abbot ; two to Innocent II. against Peter of
Besanfon, from Letter 195 ; one to the same on behalf of
Peter of Pisa, from the end of Letter 213. We learn also
from the commencement of Letter 253 that he had addressed
GENERAL PREFACE. ig
many Letters to the same Pontiff on behalf of the introduc
tion of Premonstratensian monks into the Monastery of S.
Paul at Verdun. There is also in Letter 203, to Atto,
reference made to a Letter to Ansellus, sub-deacon of
Troyes; in the beginning of Letter 223, to Joscelin, to an
apologetic Letter to Suger; in Letter 233, to the same, to
two Letters to John de Buzay ; in the end of Letter 284 to
Pope Eugenius, to another addressed to the same Pope in
favour of the Bishop of Claremont. The monk Hermann
of Tournay speaks also of a Letter which Bernard wrote to
Pope Eugenius on behalf of a monastery at Tournay (No.
H5). 1 The Letter formerly numbered 358, now 376, makes
mention of an encyclical Letter against duels, addressed to
the Archbishops of Rheims and Sens, the Bishops of
Soissons and Autun, and the Counts Theobald and Raoul.
Furthermore, Peter the Venerable repeats, in his Letter num
bered 388 among those of Bernard, some words of a Letter
which the holy Doctor had written on behalf of a certain
English abbot, "as if judgment were subverted," etc., which
I do not remember to have read in any of Bernard s Letters.
XX. Ordericus Vitalis also mentions a Letter of Bernard
to Natalis, Abbot of Rebais, on behalf of the monks of
Utica, whose abbot, named Guarin, was begging for the
relics of S. Evroult from Abbot Natalis : " Geoffrey de
clared that he had the intention of going to Clairvaux, and
asked him to go thither with him, to which he consented
willingly. They came them both together to Clairvaux
with all their attendants. They w r ere received hospitably by
the brothers of that community, who strictly observe the
Rule of S. Benedict. They asked to see Dom Bernard,
the Abbot of that monastery, and having spoken with him
and asked of him many questions, they found in him great
wisdom. He replied to all their questions, treated
eloquently of the Holy Scriptures, and satisfied all their
1 Spicileg, Tom. ii. p. 483.
20 GENERAL PREFACE.
wishes. When he heard of the cause of the Religious of
Utica, he kindly came to the aid of Abbot Guarin, and
wrote a persuasive Letter to the community of Rebais. . . .
Abbot Guarin presented this Letter of the venerable Ber
nard to these Religious, who received it with pleasure, and
willingly determined to comply with the request made."
Thus writes Ordericus in his sixth book.
XXI. Furthermore, Ademar of Angouleme says in his
Chronicle, when treating of the origin of the Carthusians :
This Order, as Bernard bears witness, holds the first
place among ecclesiastical Orders, not on account of its
antiquity, but by the power of its sanctity. Wherefore he
calls it the most beautiful column of the Church," which
words are not found in any of the published works of S.
Bernard.
XXII. Finally, John Picard cites from John de Manburg
in his treatise Concerning the manner of life of Regular
Canons, a letter addressed by Bernard to Fulk, from which
Manburg has quoted these words: "Instead of wearing
black or grey furs round the neck, they wear furs coloured
purple like women." If these words were quoted from any
Letter of Bernard it has not been yet published, but in the
second Letter from Bernard to Fulk, par. 1 1 , there are to be
found expressions similar in sense, although not exactly
alike in words. It is the same in the passage which Picard
cites also from Manburg as being still inedited. It is con
tained in substance in the de Consideratione, B. iv. n. 12,
concerning the qualities requisite for a Cardinal.
This is all that it seems necessary or interesting to say
by way of preface to this new edition of the Letters of S.
Bernard.
II. OF THE SANCTITY AND LEARNING OF BERNARD,
AND HIS AUTHORITY IN THE CHURCH.
XXIII. Before proceeding farther it will be well to
consider the two titles which are commonly bestowed upon
GENERAL PREFACE. 21
Bernard, viz., that he is called Doctor Mellifluus (the
sweet-tongued or honied-worded Doctor), and the Last of
the Fathers, though not unequal to the first. The title of
Doctor has been yielded by the Church to those whose
teaching has been approved by its general voice, particu
larly when that teaching is united with sanctity of life.
She gives the name of Fathers to those whom their
sanctity, their teaching, and at the same time their
antiquity, unite to distinguish ; teaching, I mean, of the
Holy Scripture and of the tradition of the Church, rather
than of philosophical reasonings.
Therefore holy men illustrious by their teaching may be
called Doctors immediately after their death, but the name
of Fathers is reserved for those whom a certain antiquity
long since acknowledged renders venerable, at the same
time that they are distinguished by a method of treating
the subjects on which they have touched, quite different
from the method of philosophical deduction. Each of these
titles of honour Bernard has deservedly obtained.
As for the first, it was bestowed upon him by Pope
Alexander III., even in the very Mass of his canonization,
when he read the Gospel reserved exclusively for the holy
Doctors, and commencing by these words: " Yc are the
salt of the earth" etc. (S. Matt. v. 13). Pope Innocent
III. confirmed that title of honour in eloquent words in the
Collect which he composed for the Festival of S. Bernard,
and in which he is called " The Blessed Abbot Bernard and
Illustrious Doctor." 1
The appellative of Mellifluus (whose words are sweet as
honey) is more recent, and the holy Doctor was first called
by it by Theophilus Reynauld in a singular little book
which is entitled the " Gallic Bee " (Apis Gallicana]. The
first editors of his works who gave him that title on the
first page of their volumes are first, the editor of the
1 Doctor Egregiw.
22 GENERAL PREFACE.
edition of Lyons in 1508, then Jodocus Clictoveus in 1515,
and also the two monks of Clairvaux, whom I have already
highly praised ; and Horst restored the use of the same
name after it had fallen into neglect ; but among all his
praises the very best is this : That merely his name at the
head of his works is a title sufficient to recommend them.
There can be no praise beyond that for an author ; but if
there is any other epithet that befits Bernard, it is surely
this of OeoSiSafcros (taught of God), bestowed upon him by
other authors ; since the knowledge with which he was
endued seems to have been not so much acquired by
human powers as infused into him from above.
XXIV. That he was, notwithstanding, wanting neither in
labour nor industry in reading and studying both sacred and
profane authors is clear from the manner in which he some
times quotes them. Without doubt, he had learned and
studied profane authors in his youth and when he was still
in the world ; and these would sometimes come back to his
memory in his old age. As to theological subjects, he
studied them with care and industry when he became a
monk. How extensive and profound his knowledge of them
was may be gathered, in the first place, from two of his
Sermons in Cantica, the 8oth and 8 ist, where he discourses
in terms so just and so elevated upon the image of God, in
the word and in the soul, and on the homogeneity of the
Divine Nature, that no one before or after him has sur
passed them. A similar remark must be made upon his
Letter (190) to Pope Innocent, in which he sets forth
wonderfully the satisfaction which Christ has obtained for
us by His suffering ; and his knowledge of the Canons, as
shown in those famous Books de Consideratione, is incom
parable. Hence is confirmed that saying of Leo the Great:
" The true love of that which is just contains within itself
both the precepts of Apostles and the authority of Canons."
Finally, the holy Doctor was versed in the Holy Scriptures,
GENERAL PREFACE. 23
by continual perusal of them, to such a degree, and his
writings show so plainly everywhere his use of that know
ledge, that, to employ the words of Sixtus of Sienna, they
may be called truly centos from the sacred volumes, so
studded are they everywhere with phrases drawn from the
Old and New Testament as to form a jewelled mosaic, so
skilfully and aptly introduced, that they might be thought
to be suggested by the subject. And if it is not becoming
to make use of the Holy Scripture in that way at all times,
and upon every subject, yet it can hardly be disapproved
when treating of sacred things. Upon this point may be
adduced the words of the Apostle Peter: If any man speak
let him speak as the oracles of God (i S. Peter iv. n). It
may be said, indeed, that Bernard sometimes employs
various texts of Scripture in a sense unfounded and far
from literal, so that he seems rather to play upon the words
quoted, than to expound their real sense ; but it is easy to
reply that, there being in Scripture manifold senses, the holy
man believed that he might choose that sense which seemed
to him proper to edification, especially when he was not
treating of any doctrine of the faith, but only proposed to
himself to enlarge upon some pious thought, and thereby
to attract the attention and delight of his hearers.
XXV. That S. Bernard was not only versed in Holy
Scripture, but also had a knowledge of the writings of the
holy Fathers, as extensive as his numerous occupations had
permitted him to obtain, no one will doubt who has
diligently perused his writings. He names them from time
to time, and praises their sayings ; and their teaching is
to be found throughout all his works. Thus, when he says
that he has only had " the oaks and beeches of the forest
for masters" (Life, B. i. n. 23), he must be understood to
speak in the sense that he himself suggests to Cardinals in
the fourth Book de Consideratione, n. 12, viz., that "in every
matter we ought to count more upon prayer than upon
24 GENERAL PREFACE.
one s own industry or labour," which Geoffrey has rightly
applied to Bernard in this very matter (Life, B. iii. i). But
how greatly he profited from the reading of the Fathers,
especially from S. Augustine, is shown easily by his Treatise
de Gratia et Libra Arbitrio, which is a kind of learned and
able summary of Augustine s teaching on that subject. He
joins Ambrose to Augustine in his Letter n, or rather his
Treatise addressed to Hugo of S. Victor ; and he adds that
from these two columns of the Church he will not easily be
drawn away. He praises Athanasius in his tenth Treatise
against Peter Abaelard ; and not unfrequently Gregory the
Great also. Finally, in terminating his Homilies de Laudi-
bus Virginis, he acknowledges that he has borrowed many
things from the Fathers. It is a wonderful thing indeed that
the holy man, though suffering under so many complaints
and such weak health, though distracted by so many cares
and duties, not only those belonging to the community (and
these could have been neither few nor light in so numerous
a household of monks as that over which he presided), but
also, and chiefly, public affairs, about which he was con
sulted, should yet have been able either to read so many
books or to succeed in the composition of works so eloquent
and so learned ; so wonderful indeed that no one can doubt
that, beyond the noble nature and rare intelligence with
which he had been gifted at his birth, a certain assistance of
Divine wisdom must have been bestowed upon him to enable
him to speak, act, teach, and write as he did. Thus Geoffrey
reports that he had " sometimes acknowledged that when in
meditation or prayer he had seemed to see the whole Scrip
ture placed and opened before his eyes " (Life, B. iii. n.
7). But he was accustomed to say that he ascertained
better the meaning of the Scriptures " by drinking from
the original fountain itself, than from the streams running
from it, that is, the expositions of the text ; yet he used
to peruse pious and orthodox expositors, not with the idea
GENERAL PREFACE. 25
of preferring his own opinion to theirs, but in order to form
his own upon theirs ; and following faithfully the track
made by them, he too used to quench his thirst at the
fountain whence they had drank before him" (Ibid. i. 24).
This reverence of the holy Doctor towards the ancient
Fathers shines forth everywhere in his writings, as in Letter
98, n. i, Serm. v. in Cantica, n. 6, and elsewhere. He had
leisure to devote himself to the study of them, during
the long continued malady under which he suffered, and
which obliged him during the early years of his office of
Abbot to withdraw himself from the society of his
brethren, and to live as a private person in the monastery.
He only did this at first, according to the account of Abbot
William, in obedience to the express command of William,
Bishop of Chalons, and of the Abbots of his order; but
afterwards the progress of the disease made it impossible
for him to do otherwise (Ibid. i. 33, 40). Abbot William
saw him when he was relieved of the management, internal
and external, of the monastery, " rejoicing to be able to
think of nothing but God and the salvation of his own soul,
and enjoying, as it were, the delights of Paradise." Then
the holy man discoursed to him of the Canticles, as he did
at greater length later on. When Bernard had recovered
a little health, he devolved a part of the administration of
the monastery upon his brother Gerard, which left him
sufficient leisure for the study of the Holy Scripture, and in
his twenty-first Sermon in Cantica he attributes to that
leisure all the progress that he had made in his spiritual
studies. We learn from Sermon 51, n. 3, on the same
subject, that these were his occupations ; prayer, reading,
composition, meditation, and such like. It was in such
pursuits that the blessed Father spent the fifteen years of
his life which elapsed from the foundation of Clairvaux to
the schism of Peter Leonis, at which period, being brought
into connection with great public events and questions of
26 GENERAL PREFACE.
considerable difficulty, he so acquitted himself with regard
to them as to excite the admiration with which the whole
of Europe, not to say the whole world, afterwards regarded
him.
XXVI. It was not without reason, therefore, that Nicholas
Lefevre, a great man and preceptor of Louis the Just, was
accustomed to say, as we are told by Francis Balbus in his
Life, that while he had the highest admiration for all the
Fathers, he especially admired the divine (divus] Augustine,
whose works he habitually read, and among more recent
writers the divine Bernard, whom he called the Last of the
Fathers, and certainly as there is none of the ancients who
went before him who merited better than Bernard the
praise of being second to Augustine, so there is none of
those who came after him ; since in none is there either a
sanctity made more illustrious by actions and even by
miracles, a doctrine more pure, a severer respect for
tradition, an eloquence more splendid in speech and in
writing, or finally, an influence more widely diffused or
more powerful. To use the words of William, " What man
is there to whose will as well the highest secular
authority, as the highest ecclesiastical, deferred, and to
whose advice it humbled itself? Proud kings, princes, and
tyrants, soldiers, and even robbers so fear and even rever
ence him, that the saying may seem to have been fulfilled,
which we read in the Gospel that the Lord spoke to His
disciples : Behold I give you power to tread upon serpents
and scorpions, etc. (S. Luke x. 19). But among spiritual
persons . . . there is in him an authority of quite a
different kind. For just as it is said by the Prophet con
cerning those sacred Living Beings, that when there was a
Voice from the firmament that was over their heads, they
stood and let down their wings, so at the present time
everywhere in the world, men of spiritual faculty when they
hear him speak or teach are silent themselves, and yield
GENERAL PREFACE. 27
the precedence to him, submitting their senses and their
intellect to his. One sees a proof of this in his writings,
etc." (Life, B. i. n. 70). Rightly, therefore, says the
Monk Caesar Heisterbach, that his authority was so great
" that the purple-clad Fathers of the Church, the kings and
princes of the world, used to speak through the mouth of
Bernard alone, as through an oracle recognized by the whole
world (De Miraculis, B. xiv. c. 17). This estimation in
which the holy Doctor was held has continued even to our
own day, as is shown by the testimonies of illustrious men
concerning him, among whom Bartholomseus a Martyribus,
the pious Bishop of Braga, a student and admirer of
Bernard, ought to hold no small place.
XXVII. What drew to him, in his life -time, so great
authority in the eyes of all, was his extraordinary humility,
even in the midst of honours. He himself ranked this
virtue higher than any (De Laudibus Virg., Horn. iv. n. 9).
This is what Ernald says : " His life is full of things
admirable and worthy of praise. Some admire his teaching,
others his character, others his miracles, and I," he says,
" render honour to all these. But there is something
which I place above them all, and to which I render more
willing admiration ; it is that being a vessel of election, and
boldly upholding the Saviour s name before nations and
kings, seeing himself obeyed by all the princes of the world,
and the Bishops in every nation listening for his opinion,
his advice, by a singular privilege, reverenced by the
Roman Church herself ; nations and kingdoms being sub
jected to him, as if by a general delegation ; and when his
actions and his words were supported even by miracles,
which is a thing still more glorious, he was never thrown
off his balance, never thought of himself more highly than
he ought. On the contrary, he always thought humbly of
himself, considered himself not the author, but the in
strument, of mighty works ; and when in the universal
28 GENERAL PREFACE.
judgment he was raised above all, he was the lowest of all
in his own" (Life, B. ii. n. 25). " His heartfelt humility
overcame in him the elevation forced upon him, nor was the
whole world able to do so much to exalt him, as he to keep
himself humble" (Ibid., in. 22). Nor did such profound
sentiments of humility lower him in the opinion of others,
but on the contrary raised him the more, and " the more
modest and humble he show r ed himself, the more important
were the services he rendered to the people of God in the
knowledge of their salvation" (Ibid., iii. n. 8).
XXVIII. To the sanctity of the Father Abbot responded
in his sons the sentiments of piety and perfection of life,
which redounded to his glory. The entire Roman Court
was a witness to this, when it accompanied Pope Innocent
to Clairvaux. " The Bishops wept and the Pontiff himself.
All wondered at the gravity of demeanour in that com
munity on an occasion so solemn, so happy for them.
Their eyes were fixed upon the ground, nor wandered in
curiosity around the assembly. It might have been thought
that their eyes were closed ; they saw no one, although
they were themselves seen by all. The Roman 1 saw
nothing that was precious in that monastery ; no costly
furniture met the eye. They saw nothing in the chapel
but the bare walls. The only thing that ambition could
envy was the characters of the brethren, and this was not a
costly treasure for the brethren, since piety is not diminished
when it is shared by another" (Ibid., B. ii. 6). It was on
these columns that the authority of Bernard was reared,
and by these guards that it was protected. " But the
sweetness of his character tempered the austerity of his
life, and his sanctity preserved his authority, as if he had
brought from heaven to make visible among men a marvel
of purity more than human, and sought for in the presence
of God" (Life, B. iii. 21 ; B. i. 28). His sanctity and purity
Pontiff.
GENERAL PREFACE. 29
were attested by miracles which were so remarkable and
famous that his enemies themselves acknowledge them, so
numerous and frequent that Bernard himself w r as struck
with wonder, as Geoffrey testifies (Life, B. iii. 20).
XXIX. As his influence was so great we cannot wonder
that he was able, as William reports, " to revive the ancient
religious fervour in the monastic order" (Life, B. i. 42),
and, according to the narrative of Geoffrey, " to correct the
corrupted manners of Catholics, to restrain the violence of
schismatics, and to confound the error of heretics " (Life,
B. iii. 12). With what power he did all these things is
shown by the history of his life, by his own writings, and,
most of all, by his Letters.
III. WITH WHAT SUCCESS BERNARD LABOURED IN
REFORMING THE LIVES OF THE CLERGY, THE MONKS,
AND THE LAY PEOPLE.
XXX. This holy man grieved over and deplored the
morals of his age, which were everywhere corrupted, and
particularly those of the ministers of the Church, of whom
he brought many to a better life. Such was the influence
of his words and of his preaching that he altogether
renewed the appearance of the Church and of the clergy,
particularly in France, and restored it to its ancient virtue
and earnestness. It was to him that the elevation of
Eugenius, a very holy man, to the See of Rome was due;
and he instructed and animated in him all Roman Pontiffs
to the right and legitimate administration of the duties of
their charge by the admirable books which he put forth de
Consider atione. Among Bishops he recalled Henry of
Sens and Stephen of Paris from living as courtiers, to a
manner of life worthy of their Episcopal order; many also
of his own Religious he caused to be elevated to the
Episcopate to serve as an example to other Bishops (Life,
B. ii. 49). To all of the clerical order he has given salu-
30 GENERAL PREFACE.
tary warning in his sermon addressed to clerics de Conver-
sione.
Concerning the Episcopal office and character, Letter 42,
to Henry, Bishop of Sens, may first be consulted. It is
counted among the Treatises and placed now in Vol. ii.
Rightly, therefore, in the History of the Bishops of Verdun,
is Bernard spoken of as " he on whose counsels the Church
of France, and the Realm of France, too, are firmly founded
at the present day" (Spicileg., Vol. ii. p. 311).
XXXI. He had, in speaking, an extraordinary charm, " of
which his pen, however elegant it might be, could not repro
duce the warmth and sweetness." God had bestowed upon
him the gift of speech, equally learned, pleasing, and
persuasive. " He knew how to adapt what he had to say
to the need of the hearer, whether consolation was needed
or entreaty, exhortation or blame ; he knew when and by
whom each was required, and this is apparent even now in
reading his writings, though they are far from having the
same effect as his words had upon those who heard them "
(Life, iii. 7). If his writings are able to produce such an
impression upon the reader, how much greater must his
words have done upon those who heard them ? It is not
wonderful, therefore, that God should have done so many
and such great things by his means for the salvation of men
of his time.
XXXII. But who could possibly recount all the efforts
that he made to resuscitate the ancient fervour of the
monastic orders ? Some idea of this may be formed by
going through his admirable letters and writings upon this
subject, his Book de Prascepto et Dispensatione, his Apology
to Abbot William, and various Sermons. In these he
encourages monks to retain with care, and to re-establish
with zeal, the original institutions of the Fathers of
monachism, that is, works of penitence, mortifications,
modesty and humility, poverty, contempt of the world, love
GENERAL PREFACE. 31
of solitude and silence, and zeal for continual advance, upon
which he saw that the whole monastic life turned and
depended. Hence Peter the Venerable calls him, not un
deservedly, " the strong and milk-white column, on which
the edifice of the monastic order is supported," and " the
brilliant star, whose glowing and luminous rays give light,
as it were that is, by his example and his preaching not
only to monks, but the whole of the Latin Church in his
time " (Letter 228, n. 30).
XXXIII. Laurence of Liege, in his Lives of the Bishops
of Verdun, compares the Orders of Citeaux and of Pre-
montre to the two Cherubim which shadowed the Mercv
j
Seat ; one of those, that of Citeaux, under the guidance of
Bernard, that Abbot of holy memory, recalled to the original
rule of Apostolic life the monastic Order w r hich in his time
had almost lapsed. That Order of Citeaux," he continues,
" spread, in the space of three years, into as many as two
hundred abbeys of great reputation, merit, and number of
Religious, and began to be diffused even among the
barbarous Sarmatians and the farthest Scythians " (Spicileg.,
V. xii. p. 325). So powerful and widespread was the repu
tation of Bernard for sanctity and that of his disciples !
Hence it came about that Bernard himself was held to be,
as it were, the founder of the Cistercian Order, of which he
was, in fact, the child and scholar. In his time the Cistercian
Order took the name of Clairvaux from his monastery, and
men began afterwards even to call the Order by the name
of S. Bernard, although Innocent VIII. had forbidden that in
his letter of union between the two monasteries of Clairvaux
and Citeaux. Hence in the letter of Albero, Bishop of
Verdun, cited by Laurence of Liege, of whom we have
spoken above, the abbots of Trois-Fontaines, and of
Caladia are regarded as being of the Order of Clairvaux
(loc. cit., p. 222), and Peter de Celles speaks of " the Order
of Citeaux or Clairvaux" in B. i. Letter 24. So in a letter
32 GENERAL PREFACE.
of Samson, Bishop of Rheims, he makes mention more than
once of the Order of Clairvaux (Letter 435). It is true
that by these words, " the Order of Clairvaux," the single
monastery at Clairvaux with those dependent upon it is
intended rather than the whole Order.
XXXIV. It does not seem necessary to explain in this
place how austere and rigorous was the life of the
Religious of Citeaux or Clairvaux under Bernard, since that
is shown with the greatest exactness in the letters and
writings of Bernard, as well as in his Life, especially in
B. i. 5, in which the first inhabitants of Clairvaux are said
to have served God " in poorness of spirit, in hunger and
thirst, in cold and nakedness, and in many watches ; fre
quently they had no food except the leaves of the beech tree
boiled, and bread made of barley, vetches, and millet."
Bernard himself in his Letter to Robert (n. i.) says that the
delicacies of the Monks of Citeaux were " vegetables, beans,
pottage, and coarse bread with water." Fastred makes
similar statements in his Letter, which may be read among
those of Bernard. Stephen of Tournay declares (Letter 72)
that "so great is their frugality in food that they use only
these two dishes either beans or pulse from the field, cab
bage or vegetables from the garden. As for fish they use
it so rarely that scarcely more than the name of it is known
among them." Many more details are given by the same
author and by Peter of Celles. This austerity of the
Order was kept up not only to the end bf the twelfth
century, as appears from Peter of Blois (Letter 82), but
even beyond the middle of the thirteenth, according to
James de Vitry, who says of them : " Meat they do not eat
except in severe illness, and they commonly abstain even
from the use of fish, eggs, milk, and cheese." (Hist.
Orient, et Occid. c. 13.) We see the same severity of life
revived even in our own day in France in the pious monks of
Notre Dame de la Trappe, and in those who have imitated
GENERAL PREFACE. 33
them, who by the purity and austerity of their life, by
their love of solitude, their silence, their labour, and other
religious virtues, show that to be possible in fact, which we
read of, but scarcely believe, of Bernard and his disciples.
XXXV. James deVitry adds in the following chapter that
women, who by reason of the weakness of their sex had
not dared "from the beginning of the Order" to carry
austerity to such a degree of severity, did at length
imitate this example. Even in the lifetime of Bernard the
female sex was not altogether a stranger to the rigorous
observance of the Rule ; as we learn from Hermann, a
monk of Laon, who says in his Book of the Miracles of
the B. Virgin (B. iii. c. 17) that there was near Laon a little
convent of virgins of the Cistercian observance, which the
Bishop Bartholomew had founded, in which the nuns,
under their Abbess Guiberga, " had renounced the use of
garments of linen and the use of furs, and used only tunics
of wool, which they had spun and woven themselves ; "
and that they cultivated the earth, clearing the woodland
with axe and hoe, tearing out brambles and thorns,
labouring with their own hands, seeking in silence their
daily bread, and imitating in all respects the life of the
monks of Clairvaux.
XXXVI. It would be too long to adduce the names of all
the illustrious persons, of both one and the other sex,
whom we know to have been induced by Bernard to enter
the monastic life. Of such were Henry, son of Louis VI.
King of France, Ermengarde Duchess of Brittany, Adelais,
Duchess of Lorraine, and innumerable men and women
besides, but it is no less true and admirable that he
persuaded men who remained in the world to adopt a pious
and religious habit of life. Beyond all princes Count
Theobald attached himself to him, put himself and all his
resources at the disposal of the monastery of Clairvaux,
put his very soul into the hands of the Abbot, and, laying
VOL. I. 3
34 GENERAL PREFACE.
down his princely dignity, showed himself among the
servants of God as a fellow-servant and not a lord, so that
he would obey in all things whatsoever the lowest in the
house had demanded of him (Life, ii. 52.) Abbot Ernald,
from whom we have quoted these words, is a witness how
much so great a prince was able to do at the advice and
entreaty of Bernard, both in constructing, endowing, and
assisting monasteries, in relieving the poor, and in the
discharge of his high duties as sovereign, and Bernard s
Letters testify to the same thing. We learn also from the
1 1 8th Letter of Bernard that Beatrice, a lady as dis
tinguished by her piety as her birth, was glad to emulate
the pious example of Theobald. Lastly, I may cite as an
example how great was the influence which Bernard
exercised in correcting the lives of men ; the con
version of William, Duke of Aquitaine, whom he changed
from a determined schismatic to be a most obedient
and pious prince. To sum up all in a few words
with Geoffrey : " What crimes has he not condemned ;
what hatreds has he not composed ; what scandals has he
not put an end to ; what schisms has he not extinguished ;
what heresies has he not confuted ! " But these two last
subjects, viz., the schisms and the heresies, require from us
special description.
IV. OF THE SCHISM OF ANACLETUS, WHICH WAS
PUT AN END TO BY S. BERNARD.
XXXVII. Although Baronius and other ecclesiastical
historians have written much concerning the schism which
after the death of Honorius II., in 1130, arose between
Innocent and Anacletus, there still remain points requiring a
fuller explication, which I shall endeavour to supply from
my reading of ancient documents, so as to illustrate the
Letters of Bernard upon this subject. And that we may
proceed in due order we have first to inquire who or what
GENERAL PREFACE. 35
before the schism were Gregory, Cardinal of S. Angelo,
and Peter Leonis (for these were the original names of
Innocent and Anacletus). Then we will examine with care
the election of Innocent, its circumstances and conditions,
and the opposition of Anacletus, and, lastly, the con
sequence following from all these facts.
XXXVIII. Peter Leonis, a Roman of the Leonine family,
was at first a monk at Cluny, and was by Paschal II. (if we
may believe Onuphrius) created Cardinal deacon, with the
title of SS. Cosmas and Damian ; afterwards he was created
by Callistus II. Cardinal presbyter of S. Maria trans Tiberim,
title of Callistus, in 1120. We learn from the Chronicle of
Maurigny "that this Peter was son of Peter who was son of
Leo. But Leo, when he made his passover^ that is when
he was converted from Judaism to Christianity, was baptized
by Leo (Leo. IX.) and had the honour to receive his name."
"This man," that is to say the convert Leo, "because he
was very learned, attained to great honour in the Court of
Rome. He had a son named Peter who afterwards acquired
great power and reputation. About that time began
between the Sovereign of Germany, who was by succession
from Charles the Great Patrician of Rome, and the Roman
Church, that most violent quarrel respecting investitures.
In the war which followed that man Leo showed himself so
strenuous in arms, so provident in counsel, and so faithful
to the Roman Church that the Pope honoured him with a
particular friendship, and confided to him, with the defence
of the other fortifications of Rome, the guard of the Tower
of Crescentius, a kind of strong castle which resembled a
second Rome, and which is constructed on the right bank
of the Tiber and at the head of the bridge which is thrown
across the river. From thence his greatness was wonder
fully increased ; his reputation became every day higher,
and he grew continually in riches, possessions, and honours."
1 Pascha. There is a kind of play upon the word here. [E.]
36 GENERAL PREFACE.
I have quoted this passage in full, since our view of what
was done will depend in great measure upon the descent
of Peter, his Jewish origin, his power, and to recall the
name of the tower of Crescentius (which they call the
Castle of S. Angelo), in which Anacletus found a safe
asylum. The author of this Chronicle continues : " Among
the numerous children of each sex of which this kind of
Antichrist boasted must be counted this Peter of whom we
are speaking now ; he is reported in a letter to have been
called by some the precursor of Antichrist. ): I believe,
however, that he was not called thus until after the great
event of his life and the consequences which followed from
it. " He repaired," continues our author, " to France, and
pursued his studies in Paris ; and when he was returning
into his own country he assumed the monastic habit at
Cluny, that very rich and holy community. After having
practised there for a certain time the rules of a religious
life, he was recalled to the Court of Pope Paschal II. at the
request of his father ; and was made Cardinal in the time
of Pope Callistus with the same Gregory who afterwards
became Pope Innocent II. Then he was sent into France
to hold councils at Chartres and Beauvais." There is no
mention here of the title of Cardinal deacon, which, accord
ing to Onuphrius, he had received from Pope Paschal. On
this matter the authority of the Chronographer of Maurigny
is the better, as he was a contemporary of Peter Leonis.
XXXIX. Gregory was, it is said, created Cardinal deacon,
with the title of S. Angelo, by Urban II., then sent into
Gaul as Legate by Callistus II. with Peter Leonis in
1124, and proceeded with him to Seez, in Neustria, as
Ordericus reports. 1 This is how Vincent describes the
legation : " The most excellent Cardinals, Gregory and
Peter Leonis, between whom later on there was a schism
as to the Papacy, having been sent into France, performed
1 Ord., xii. p. 877.
GENERAL PREFACE. 37
their commission at Limoges, and during that time made a
visit to the man of God, Stephen." 1 Duchesne reports
that they both attached their signatures to the constitution
of Abbot Suger in 1125 as Legates in these terms : "I,
Peter, Cardinal presbyter and Legate of the Apostolic See,
approve and confirm. I, Gregory, Cardinal deacon of S.
Angelo and Legate of the Apostolic See," etc. 2 At the
same time Bernard wrote many epistles to a certain
Cardinal deacon named Peter, who was also Legate ; they
are numbered 97 and following. This Peter I once
supposed, with Manrique, to have been Peter Leonis. But
since that Peter to whom Bernard writes appears to have
been Cardinal deacon, not presbyter, these letters cannot
have been addressed to Peter Leonis, who was at that time
Cardinal priest, as we gather from the story of Onuphrius
and from some other writers, as well as from the signature
of Peter himself, which I have reported above, and from the
testimony of Suger, which I am about to adduce. Perhaps
this Peter, Cardinal deacon and Legate, to whom Bernard
addressed the Letters we have referred to, was the same
who came into Gaul by the command of Pope Honorius
against Pontius, the deposed Abbot of Cluny, and his
supporters ; of which step Peter the Venerable speaks
thus : " The venerable Pope Callistus of whom I have
written above had then departed this life, and Pope
Honorius was his worthy successor. He at the news of
the violent disputes at Cluny sent as Legate de latere the
lord Cardinal Peter, with whom was joined Hubald, Primate
of Lyons, and he condemned with a terrible anathema
Pontius and all his supporters, who were then called
Pontians." But it is not easy to decide of what title this Peter
was Cardinal, for there were more Cardinals of that name
about that time besides Peter Leonis, namely, Peter, Bishop
of Porto ; Peter of Pisa, of the title of S. Susanna ; Peter
1 Life of Stephen de Grandmonl, B. ii. 49. 2 Chesnius, iv. p. 547.
38 GENERAL PREFACE.
of Burgundy, of the title of S. Marcellus ; Peter, Cardinal of
S.^quitius, who was promoted in 1125 in the first creation
of Cardinals by Honorius ; Peter, Cardinal presbyter of S.
Anastasia in the following year ; and, lastly, Peter, Cardinal
deacon, of the title of S. Adrian, two years later. But the
Letters of Bernard seem to have been written before the
creation of these two. 1
XL. In the meantime Pope Honorius died, in the middle
of February, 1130. The Chronicle of Maurigny makes this
date 1 1 29, since it counts the year in the French manner,
beginning from Easter. " Then," says the same author,
" the Cardinals who were present at Rome with the
Chancellor Haimeric, and had been present at the last
moments of Honorius, set over themselves a certain
Gregory," him, that is to say, whom we have just now
mentioned, " a man distinguished for knowledge and piety,
and clothe him, a little too hastily as is said by some, in
the Pontifical insignia. They say that this w r as done by a
dispensation, so that they might frustrate the intrigues of
a certain Peter who seemed to be aspiring to the Papacy
by secular means. This was Peter, son of Peter, son of
Leo," and so on as I have related above concerning him.
Suger explains the circumstances very clearly in his Life of
Louis the Fat, where he says : " At the death of Honorius
the elder and wiser dignitaries of the Roman Church, for
the purpose of avoiding any tumult in the Church,
agreed that this important election should take place in
common, according to the Roman custom, in the Church of
S. Mark, and not elsewhere." But "those Cardinals whom
duty or personal intimacy retained around Honorius, not
daring to assemble in that place through fear of the Roman
population, who were in a state of tumult, elected as
Pontiff, before the decease of Honorius was generally
known, Gregory, Cardinal deacon of S. Angelo, a person of
1 Milman (Lat. Christ, iv. 300 note) expresses a doubt whether S. Bernard s
correspondent was not, after all, Peter Leonis, notwithstanding Mabillon s
argument : but apparently without reason. [E.]
GENERAL PREFACE. 39
high character. But those who favoured the party of
Peter Leonis, having invited others according to the agree
ment in the Church of S. Mark, assembled there ; and
when the death of the lord Pope was known they elected
by vote the same Peter Leonis, Cardinal presbyter, with the
consent of many Bishops, Cardinals, clergy, and Roman
nobles, and thus was this pernicious schism caused. The
election of Innocent was, therefore, the first in date,
but it was made hastily and without the attendance of all
the electors. But," continues Suger, " as the party of
Peter Leonis prevailed at Rome, both by the influence of
his family and by the favour of the Roman nobility," Innocent
left Rome, embarked for France, and " sending messengers
to King Louis," entreated his assistance. Therefore Louis
summoned at Etampes " a Council of Archbishops, Bishops,
Abbots, and Religious in order to inquire not so much
concerning the election as concerning the person elected."
This Council declared for Innocent, under the influence of
Bernard, in whose judgment the whole of the Council
coincided by their vote, as Ernald declares (Life, B. ii. c.
i). In consequence of this Suger, as he himself reports,
was commanded by the King to go to meet Innocent at the
Abbey of Cluny, whose Abbot, Peter the Venerable, had,
with his monks, declared for Innocent, although Anacletus
had formerly been a monk there, as I shall note afterwards
upon Letter 126. The King himself, with the Queen and
his children, went to meet the Pope as far as the Benedic
tine Abbey of Fleury, where " he prostrated himself at his
feet, as if doing reverence at the sepulchre of Peter."
Following his example, Henry, King of England, came like
wise "to Chartresto meet Innocent, and devoutly prostrated
himself at his feet " and promised him obedience for him
self and his subjects. But Innocent "in the course of his
visitation to the Church of France arrived in Lorraine.
The Emperor Lothair came to meet him in the city of
Liege with an enormous attendance of Archbishops,
40 GENERAL PREFACE.
Bishops, and dignitaries of his realm, and in the midst of
the great square before the cathedral church, as if he had
been the Pope s equerry, approaching him respectfully on
foot in the midst of his procession, he kept off with one
hand the crowd with a rod, and with the other he led by
the bridle the white horse on which the Pope was mounted,
like a servant conducting his lord. Then, as the ground
was sloping, he supported and almost carried him, and thus
greatly increased the dignity of His Paternity (the Pope)
in the eyes of all." All this took place in 1130. Although
Suger says nothing here of Bernard, we know from Ernald
that he was a constant companion of Innocent s journey
throughout France.
XLI. Before going on to other subjects it will not be out
of place to remark here what took place at Liege. The
Annals of Magdebourg, or Saxon MSS., inform us under
the year 1131: "The Sunday before Mid-Lent, March
22nd, was held at Liege a very distinguished assembly of
Bishops and Princes, thirty-six in number, in presence of
the Apostolic lord Innocent, of the Emperor Lothair, with
the Empress, where many wise decisions were made for the
good both of the Church and of the State. There also
Otto, Bishop of Halberstadt, who had been deprived of his
See three years before, was restored to it by the interces
sion of the Emperor and the Princes. Ernald reports that
in that assembly was brought forward also the question of
investitures, which at length Lothair, by the influence of
Bernard, restored to the Church. This Council was preceded
by a synod at Wissembourg, as one of the authors of the
Annals of Magdebourg contemporary with these events
asserts. There was in the month of October a Council of
sixteen Bishops assembled at Wissembourg by the Emperor,
at which was present the Archbishop of Ravenna, as Legate
of the Apostolic See, where Gregory, who as Innocent had
prevailed over Peter Leonis in the election of a Pope, was
GENERAL PREFACE. 41
recognized and confirmed by the Emperor Lothair, and all
there present.
XLII. After the assembly at Liege Innocent returned
into France (as Suger relates) and passed the feast of
Easter at S. Denis. " Three days after Easter he went to
Paris, and then when he had spent some time in visiting
the churches of France, and in supplying his penury from
their abundant wealth, he chose to take up his abode at
Compiegne." Some time after (Suger declares) he held
a Council at Rheims, the opening of which Dodechin
fixes on October igth, and in which Louis the Younger
received on the 25th of the same month the insignia of
royalty from the hands of Innocent, as Robert, who has
continued the Chronicle of Sigebert, states. The Saxon
MS. Annals report under 1131, "Pope Innocent on the
Feast of S. Luke having again assembled together many of
the clergy and laity," that is after the Synod at Liege,
" held at Rheims another assembly for some days, over
which he presided." Suger adds that having dismissed
this Council the Pope made some stay at Autun, and at
length returned into Italy with Lothair.
XLIII. Ernald (Life, \\.c. i) places the Council at Rheims
before that at Liege, and writes that Innocent proceeded
from Liege to Clairvaux, and after a short delay in France
returned to Rome in the company of Lothair. But it is
quite clear that the synod at Rheims was later than that at
Liege, as well from the narrative of Suger as from the Saxon
Annals, and especially from the Chronicle of Maurigny, in
which the journey of Innocent is carefully described. The
chronicler, in fact, relates that Innocent, after having been
recognized at Chartres as legitimate Pope by King Henry
of England, " resolved to proceed to the Court of Lothair,
Patrician of Rome, Emperor, and as his first stage on leaving
Chartres was at Maurigny," which is a Benedictine Abbey
in the neighbourhood of Etampes, and in his company, besides
42 GENERAL PREFACE.
Bishops and Cardinals, was " Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux,
who was the most famous preacher of the Divine Word at
that time in the whole of France," and Peter Abaelard,
Monk and Abbot, who is called " a religious man, who holds
an excellent school of theology." When the Pope had
consecrated the Church of Maurigny, " on the third morning
he departed with his company and proceeded to his con
ference, which was at Liege . . . then, returning to Gaul,
he remained a long time at Autun until the time drew near
for the meeting of the Council, which had been summoned
to assemble at Rheims on the Festival of S. Luke the
Evangelist ; then having gained over to his cause Geoffrey
Martel of Tours ... he returned to Paris, passing by
Orleans and Etampes." In the meantime he heard of the
death of Philip, whom his father had associated with him
in the kingdom. Profoundly grieved by this news he sends
as his legates a latere to console the King two venerable
Bishops, " Geoffrey of Chalons, and Matthew of Albano."
Then proceeding to Rheims he solemnly anointed Louis as
King in a fully-attended synod. He received at the same
time letters of obedience and fidelity from the Emperor
Lothair and from Henry, King of England, as well as from
Hildefonso the Elder, King of Hither Spain, and Hildefonso
the Younger, King of Farther Spain. Besides this, it filled
the Pontiff with great joy to receive " a letter from the most
excellent hermits of the Chartreux, which was borne by a
certain venerable Abbot of the Cistercian Order, and read
in full Council by Geoffrey, Bishop of Chartres." This
Abbot was Hugo, of Pontigny, as the letter bears witness,
which the same Chronicler inserts at the end of his second
volume. At the commencement of the third he adds that "a
little after the Council of Rheims Innocent returned to Rome,
but because Peter, his unjust rival, had drawn to his own
side the greater part of the city, Innocent was able to
obtain only the Church of S. Peter, which is the seat of the
GENERAL PREFACE. 43
dignity of the holy priesthood, but Peter occupied as his
residence the palace of the Lateran, to which belongs
Imperial dignity." Upon this matter there is a letter of the
Emperor Lothair in the Spicilegium, Vol. vi., in which
Norbert, Archbishop of Magdebourg, has the title of
Chancellor. He was acting as the deputy of Bruno, of
Cologne, who had not proceeded into Italy with the Emperor
(Chron. Saxon.) But Innocent for the sake of the City of
Rome withdrew to Pisa, where he remained until the death
of Peter, which took place in 1137.
XLIV. In the meantime Peter, or Anacletus, left no means
unattempted to bring over persons of influence to his side.
Among Bishops, Gerard of Angouleme adhered to him,
who since he had fulfilled the functions of legate under the
two last Popes had it much at heart to obtain the same
honour from Anacletus also. He gained over to Anacletus
William, Count of Poitou. Furthermore, Anacletus, in
order to bring over Roger, Duke of Apulia, to his party,
gave him his own sister in marriage and crowned him
King of Sicily, as Ordericus states (B. xii. p. 498).
Among the letters of Peter Leonis, in which he takes upon
him the name of Pope, which have been preserved in the MS.
of Casinum, and published in part by Baronius, there is
one in which he complains vehemently of the Abbot of
Farfa, whom, because he was opposed to himself, he has,
as he says, " stricken w r ith the sting of the Church," i.e.,
"condemned with a sentence of excommunication."
XLV. All these troubles and divisions which we have
detailed, perhaps at greater length than was necessary,
gave much occupation to Bernard, who wrote letter after
letter in every direction to bring over schismatics to
Innocent and to keep those who were faithful to their duty.
He undertook various journeys also for the same cause, as
we infer from the following epistles and from his Life
(B. ii. 6 and 7).
44 GENERAL PREFACE.
XLVI. We now have to speak of Gerard, Bishop of
Angouleme, of whom Arnulf, then Archdeacon of Seez, and
afterwards Bishop of Lisieux, has left us a portrait in the
treatise which he wrote against him, and which our brother
Achery has published in Vol. ii. of the Spicilegium. "He
was Norman by birth ; the poverty of his parents obliged
him to leave his father s house, and was at length elected
Bishop of Angouleme by a chance," as there was a
division among the electors, and his election offered " a
certain means of escape" from the difficulty in which they
were. Then he began to confer the dignities of his Church
upon his nephews, born in a low condition, 1 to shut his eyes
to crimes and leave them unpunished, to seek and to obtain
the dignity of legate from the Pontiff, to act haughtily, to
convoke Councils and synods in a spirit of ostentation.
Arnulf adds that when Innocent was elected, Gerard at first
favoured him, but not having been able to obtain the
dignity of legate from him he threw himself into the party
of Peter Leonis, by whom a new commission as legate was
granted to him, embracing all the countries between the
Alps and the ocean of the west. And it was added that
" wherever he should set his foot there he should have the
power of legate." When he was reinvested with this
dignity he endeavoured to gain over the Kings of England
and the two Spains to the party of Anacletus, but without
success. He deposed the Bishops of Poitiers and Limoges
and replaced them by unworthy men. He imposed himself,
Gerard, upon the See of Bordeaux, being at once Bishop and
Archbishop, which Ernald also states (Life, B. ii. c. 5).
Then Arnulf says, addressing Gerard, and enumerating .the
partisans of Anacletus, "that unbelieving troop whom you
follow compose all the supporters of Peter Leonis ; it is not
yet purged from the leaven of Jewish corruption, and that
tyrant, whom Sicily, the nurse of tyrants, sustains ... it
1 Obscuro loco.
GENERAL PREFACE. 45
has in its ranks only the Count of Poitou, a man devoted to
pleasures, a man sensual, not capable of comprehending
spiritual mysteries, given over to the error because of the
refusal of a request unlawful to be granted." These are the
supporters of Anacletus. "While to our side," continues
Arnulf, " we have the adhesion of the Emperor, every king,
every prince, every man almost who is worthy to bear the
Christian name. But in that universal consent, those whose
adhesion is most significant to my eyes, whose authority
strikes me, influences me, and commands my obedience, are
the men to \vhom it has been given to know the mysteries
of the kingdom of God, and whose conversation seems to be
already in heaven ; such are they in truth who dwell among
the perpetual snows of the Chartreuse, and they who,
shining forth from Citeaux or Cluny, fill all the world with
the rays of their light." Thus speaks Arnulf to Gerard,
whom, nevertheless, others praise, but the authority of
Arnulf ought to weigh most with us. " I have written
nothing," he says, " but what I either myself knew person
ally or have received on good authority, or which is not, at
least, affirmed by public report." There is more respect
ing Gerard in the notes to Letter 127. Gerard died in
1136. Then Geoffrey, Bishop of Chartres, received the
command of Innocent to traverse the whole of France, and
especially Aquitaine, and to destroy with his own hands all
the altars which Gerard, the author and supporter of that
rebellion, or which Gilo, Bishop of Tusculum, or their
accomplices had consecrated in the time of the schism,
"with benediction and unction of chrism," as we read in the
Chronicle of Maurigny, B. iii. But we are lingering too
long upon these matters. Those who wish to learn more
respecting the sentiments, life, and character of Innocent
and Anacletus may consult the treatise of Arnulf just
quoted. There is a letter of Paschal II. respecting the
Legation of Gerard to be found in Spicileg., B. iii., and in
46 GENERAL PREFACE.
B. iv. an account of the Synod of Laon, at which he pre
sided in 1 109.
XLVII. It may be seen (as we have already said) by the
Life and in the Letters of Bernard how many journeys he
accomplished, and how T much trouble he went through in
the long and unhappy time of that schism. Thus he thrice
travelled into Italy upon this account, and it was thanks to
his efforts, that the schism was terminated by the death of
Anacletus in 1138. For although the schismatics gave him
a successor in the anti-pope Victor, it was " not so much in
order to prolong the division as to find, by delay, a suitable
opportunity to reconcile themselves with Pope Innocent,"
and, in fact, Victor himself came by night " to the holy
man" that is, to Bernard "and he induced him to lay
aside the insignia of Papal dignity which he had assumed,
and conducted him to the feet of Innocent" (Life, ii. 47).
Such was the end of this long and calamitous schism.
XLVIII. In sign of gratitude for so great a service, which
was due principally to Bernard, Innocent freed by his own
authority the possessions of the Cistercian Order from the
tithes payable upon them, without even consulting those to
whom the tithes belonged. From these new divisions arose,
which caused no little trouble and annoyance to Bernard.
The monks of Cluny, in particular, complained loudly against
this exemption, which deprived them, without compensa
tion, of a great part of their revenues, and their irritation
rose to such a point that the monks of Gigny destroyed to
the very ground a neighbouring monastery of the Cistercians
named Moiremont. The detailed account of this melan
choly event will be found in two Letters numbered 229 and
283, the former from Peter the Venerable, and the latter
from Bernard, and in the notes upon these. Nor was this
contest immediately closed, but in process of time extended
into other countries also.
XLIX. We may infer this from Letter 82, which Peter of
GENERAL PREFACE. 47
Blois wrote in the name of Richard, Archbishop of Canter
bury, " To the Abbot and the Convent of Citeaux ; " for in
this letter, after beginning with praises of the Cistercians,
he goes on to say that " their reputation is in one respect
stained by their refusal to pay to other monks and to the
clergy the tithes which are due from them," the writer con
tinues, " and whence comes this injurious exemption that
you should be freed from the payment of tithes, to which
your lands were liable before they came into your hands,
and which have hitherto been paid, not w r ith respect to the
persons holding them, but by the necessary liability of the
land ? If those lands had passed into your possession,
wherefore is the right of another person over them in this
respect to be endangered ? For, in common fairness, when
the lands passed to you they passed with the burden that
was upon them." And when the privilege accorded to the
Cistercians by Pope Innocent was brought forward as an
argument against him, he replies that such a privilege
might be borne with for a while, since necessity had been
the cause of its introduction at a time when the Order"
that is, of Citeaux " was happy in its poverty, and gladly
shared with the poor its scanty resources." But now that
its possessions were multiplied, " even beyond all measure,"
such a privilege must be considered rather to minister to
the ambition of the Order than to be a means of assistance
to piety. " Furthermore, whatever may be the extent of the
privileges of the Roman Church, they cannot be made use
of to usurp unjustly that which belongs to another." At
length, if the Cistercians shall show themselves pertinacious
and unyielding in this matter, Richard threatens that he
will bind in the bond of anathema all persons "who shall
either give or sell anything to the Cistercians " to the
hindrance of the right of tithes, and that he will appeal to
the throne of the Supreme Judge " that none may absolve
from the bond of this excommunication." He goes even
48 GENERAL PREFACE.
farther still, since he threatens to invoke the help of the
secular arm in favour of the spiritual power, and to confis
cate all that shall have been sold or given to the Cistercians
against the decree which he has pronounced. This is what
we read in the letter of Peter of Blois.
L. Geoffrey, Prior of Vigeois, makes similar complaints
on the same subject in his Chronicle (Labbe, Biblioth. ii.
p. 328), in which, after praising the Cistercians because
they gave many alms from the proceeds of their own labour,
because they sang their offices in choir, according to the
Rule, and for many other good actions, he yet notes this
against them, that they took the lands and refused to pay
the tithes due to others ; without counting this, that they
indiscreetly threw into obscurity the memory of certain
saints. He wrote this about the close of the twelfth cen
tury, at which time the tempest raised by the exemption
from tithe decreed by Innocent in favour of the Cistercians
had not yet subsided.
V. CONCERNING THE ERRORS OE PETER ABAELARD
AND OF GILBERT DE LA PORREE, AND S. BERNARD S
REFUTATION OF THEM.
LI. This circumstance added no little to the glory of
Bernard, that he had no others as adversaries than the
partisans of error or heresy, nor did he attack the men so
much as their errors. Chief among the former class must
be reckoned Peter Abaelard and Gilbert or Gislebert de la
Porree. Among heretics, the worst was Henry and his
followers, who were called Henricians from him. We shall
treat here of the two former, and of Henry and his followers
in the next paragraph.
LI I. Peter Abaelard gives a vivid description of himself
in his history of his calamities ; afterwards Otto, Bishop of
Frisingen, has sketched him with a kindly pen. You have
an epitome of his life in my Notes to Letter 187 of Bernard,
GENERAL PREFACE. 49
where the defenders and supporters of Abaelard are refuted.
Here we need only give a summary of what Bernard did
against him. Then we shall show by the words of his
defenders themselves how unjust those are towards the
truth, who declare themselves in his favour in the con
troversy, rather than in that of S. Bernard.
LIII. First, we will commence by observing that long
before his collision with Bernard he had been cited by
Conon, Legate of the Holy See, to the Council held at
Soissons in 1121; and in it, his Book on Theology, in which
erroneous propositions were contained, was committed to
the flames, the author being confined in the monastery of
S. Medard. When he was dismissed thence, he proceeded
to disseminate his views in all directions, and grievously
resenting the imputation of being a heretic, which was
thrown upon him by many people, and of which lie
suspected that Bernard was the origin, he cited him to the
Council of Soissons, in 1140, or it might be said, dragged
him thither, so unwilling was Bernard to come.
There, in presence of the Bishops and other illustrious
clergy of the second order, Abaelard himself was heard a
second time and confuted by Bernard, his doctrine ex
amined and again proscribed, but the author was left
unpunished, because he had appealed to the Apostolic See.
But as he heard that the sentence of the synod had been
approved by Innocent II., he desisted from his appeal, and on
the advice of Peter the Venerable retired into the monastery
of Cluny, and at last made a pious ending of his days in a
monastery at Chalons sur Saone.
LIV. Bernard wrote against Abaelard various Letters, of
which the most important is one to Pope Innocent (Letter
190), which is placed eleventh among the Treatises. In this
letter Bernard names briefly the chief heads of the errors
which he had found in the writings of Abaelard, and
logically refutes them. In this edition I place, following
VOL. I. 4
50 GENERAL PREFACE.
the Vatican MS., at the head of this Letter, or rather
Treatise, fourteen propositions extracted by Bernard from
the writings of Abaelard which were submitted to Innocent
at the same time as the Letter. I shall treat at length the
whole of this controversy in an Admonition prefixed to this
particular Treatise. For the present I content myself
with adding some particulars respecting the defenders of
Abaelard.
LV. In the first place must be quoted Abaelard himself,
who in his Apology complains that many errors had been
imputed to him " by malice," and particularly that he had
said " the Father is all powerful, the Son powerful, and the
Holy Spirit without power," which words he repudiates as
not merely heretical, but diabolical," and affirms that they
cannot be found in his writings. But of this and other
heads of accusations I shall speak in observations on
Treatise n. Abaelard confesses, however, in the course of
his Apology, that he had written " some things that he
ought not, by error;" but protests that he had written
nothing "through malice or through pride," and adds that
if through his much speaking, some expressions had escaped
him which were to be regretted, he was always prepared
" to correct, or altogether retract, what he had spoken ill ; "
and finally, that he was a son of the Church, and " received
what she receives, and rejected what she rejects." Well
and good ; I have no wish to prove Abaelard to have been
a heretic; it is sufficient for the cause of Bernard to show
that he erred in certain respects, and this indeed he himself
does not deny.
LVI. But how far does the testimony of Otto of Frisingen
tell against the holy Doctor or in favour of Abaelard ? He
says that " Bernard had a fervent jealousy for the Christian
religion, and was credulous from his habitual gentleness of
character," so that he had little love for those Professors who
attached too much importance to their human reasonings
GENERAL PREFACE. 51
and their worldly wisdom, " and if anything was reported
of such persons which seemed to show that they were out
of harmony with the Christian faith, he listened willingly to
it" (Otto, B. i. c. 47). But this judgment is rather praise
than blame for the holy Doctor, since there is nothing
more in the duty of a Catholic Doctor than to repress as
soon as possible men of that class, who attach too much
value to their philosophical reasonings, especially when
they devise new terms of philosophy, w r hich may easily lead
into error incautious persons. I may adopt the words of
William, that "the excess of zeal which is blamed in him will
be itself praiseworthy to pious minds . . . happy is he to whom
the only crime which can be imputed is that which others
are accustomed to consider as doing them honour" {Life,
B. i. 41). But Otto himself, although he favours Abaelard,
yet acknowledges that he had weakened too much the
distinctions between the Three Persons of the holy Trinity,
not having followed good precedents, " and that because of
this he was considered a Sabellian heretic in the provincial
synod of Soissons." How then can it be wondered at, if
repeating the same errors a second time he was regarded
with extreme suspicion by lovers of the orthodox faith ?
LVII. I need not say much of Berengarius of Poitiers,
who wrote an Apology for Abaelard, who had been his
teacher, against the synod of Soissons and against Bernard
himself; as well because he was a man of little or no
authority, as because he, when he returned to a better mind,
was unwilling to continue to be " the defender of the pro
positions objected to Abaelard because, although they might
not be unorthodox, yet they sounded distinctly suspicious,"
and he would have suppressed his book if he had been able,
as he declares in his letter to the Bishop of Mende. And
although we have no longer all the books of Abaelard in
which he had disseminated his errors, yet in those which
remain there is no lack of "difficult and dangerous"
52 GENERAL PREFACE.
passages, as the Paris theologians have detected, and have
placed at the head of his works a kind of antidote to
destroy the effect of the more dangerous of these. It
would have been very desirable that the Apologetic Preface
should have been expunged from thence. But enough has
been said of Abaelard.
LVIII. The condemnation of Gilbert de la Porree, Bishop
of Poitiers, excited no less angry feeling against Bernard
than that against Abaelard. According to Otto of Frisingen,.
Gilbert "was born at Poitiers, studied there, afterwards-
became a teacher, and from a teacher he finished by being
Bishop of the same city. From his youth he subjected
himself to the training of the most renowned masters, and
relying more on their knowledge than his own intellect, he
acquired from them learning solid and profound " (Otto,.
B. i. c. 46), w r hile praise of his knowledge was enhanced
by the gravity of his character. These masters were, " first r
Hilary of Poitiers, then Bernard of Chartres, and finally
two brothers named Anselm and Ralph, both of Laon."
This Hilary was no other, I think, than the great Bishop
Hilary of Poitiers, whose authority, as Geoffrey declares,
Gilbert abused. Bernard of Chartres is not otherwise
known to me than by the testimony of Otto ; as for Ralph
of Laon, he was well known to Guibert, to a monk
named Hermann, of Laon, and to Geoffrey, the secretary
of S. Bernard, as was also his brother Anselm, Dean of
Laon. In his Commentaries on the Psalms, on the
Epistles of S. Paul, and upon Boethius, he indulges in
philosophical speculations concerning the Divinity and
other truths of religion beyond w-hat is permissible. Otto
states that " there were among other opinions which were
objected to him four propositions concerning the Divine
Majesty, namely: That the Divine Essence is not God;
that the properties of the Persons are not the Persons
themselves; that the Divine Persons cannot be predicated in
GENERAL PREFACE. 53
any proposition ; that the Divine Nature is not incarnate."
I will speak more fully upon these in later chapters. Minor
errors also were objected to him, namely, that "no one
except Christ had any merit, that no one should be baptized
except those ordained to salvation," and other opinions of
that kind which Geoffrey reports. (Treatise against the
opinions of Gilbert, in the Appendix.)
LIX. Gilbert having given utterance to all these errors
in a sermon which he preached to an assembly of his
clergy, his two Archdeacons, Arnold and Calo, report the
matter to Eugenius III., who was then at Sienna, in
Tuscany, and was coming into France. He remitted the
examination of the cause to France. In the meantime
the Archdeacons obtain the support of Bernard for their
side. An examination was made of the accused doctrines
at Auxerre and at Paris, and they were condemned at a
Council at Rheims in 1148. Otto reports briefly what was
done in each of these assemblies, but Geoffrey, the secretary
of Bernard, gives a more detailed account. He even wrote
a short history of the proceedings respecting them at the
Council of Rheims, and forty years later he wrote a letter
on the subject to Henry, Cardinal Bishop of Albano.
Both his letter and this history will be found at the end of
Vol. vi.
LX. I have found no particulars respecting this assembly
at Auxerre, of which only Otto makes mention ; but there
are, on the contrary, many details given of the proceedings
of that at Paris. Geoffrey states that it was held " at the
Festival of Easter," and therefore it must have been in
1147 ; since we learn from Otto that the Council assembled
at Rheims "during the Lent" of the following year,
and the Appendix to Sigebert fixes it as the 22nd
March. " Gilbert appeared then before the Pope, the
Cardinals, the Bishops, and other venerable and learned
men, to explain himself on the points upon which he
54 GENERAL PREFACE.
was accused. The debate lasted for several days. There
appeared against him two celebrated doctors, Adam de
Petit-Pont, a very acute reasoner, and recently made
Canon of the Cathedral of Paris, and Hugh de Champ-
fleury, Chancellor of the King, who affirmed upon their
oath that they had heard from the mouth of Gilbert
certain of the incriminated propositions. In the midst of
the discussion which followed upon this, it was declared
that Gilbert had said amongst other things that I confess that
God the Father is God in one sense, and Father in another
sense ; yet not both God and Father in the same sense.
Joscelin, Bishop of Soissons, was particularly indignant at
this declaration. All this took place on the first day.
Another time he was accused of having in a prosa 1 con
cerning the Holy Trinity said that the three Persons were
three individuals. The Archbishop of Rouen (Hugh the
Third of that name) made the matter worse by saying that
it would have been better to say that God is one individual."
This is the account which Otto, Bishop of Frisingen, gives
of the Council of Paris (Otto, B. i. c. 51-52).
LXI. Geoffrey relates it a little differently, and makes the
synod at Viterbo which was held upon the same subject to
have preceded it. He mentions but one informer against
Gilbert to the Pope, the Archdeacon Arnold, upon whom
he bestows the cognomen Pince-sans-rire [= gut non
ridet, i.e., a dry joker]. But in the meeting at Paris he
opposes Bernard to Gilbert as his only adversary, "whose
concern it was wherever he might be to defend every
interest of our Lord Christ. When Gilbert was required
to produce his Commentary on Boethius, in which were
contained some suspected propositions, he replied that he
had it not at hand. But he denied that he had ever taught
or believed that the Divine Nature was not God, etc., and
1 Sequence, i.e., a species of rhythmical introduction to the Gospel in the
Liturgy. The laws of metre were not strictly observed in it. [E.j
GENERAL PREFACE. 55
he called in witness of this two of his disciples, Rotold,
then Bishop of Evreux, and afterwards Archbishop of
Rouen, and the Magister Ivo of Chartres, another person
without doubt than the illustrious Bishop of Chartres of
that name." I think that this man was a regular Canon
of the Abbey of S. Victor, near Paris, and afterwards
created Cardinal by Innocent II., to whom Bernard s Letter
193 was addressed. To put an end to these altercations
the Pope orders that the book in question should be brought
to a future Council " which he proposed to hold during the
same year at Rheims ; " and although it was deferred to
mid-Lent of the following year, it was none the less held
within a year from the meeting at Paris, since that was
held, as we have said above, during the preceding Easter.
LXII. " In the meantime the Exposition of Boethius by
Gilbert was, by order of the Pope, sent to Godescalc, then
Abbot of Mont S. Eloi, near Arras, and afterwards Bishop
of the same town, in order that he might examine it; he
noted in it many suspicious propositions, to each of which
he opposed the teaching of the holy Fathers extracted from
their works. Alberic, Bishop of Ostia and Legate in
Aquitaine, would have brought forward the most ample
information regarding the life and conduct of Gilbert if he
had not been removed by a premature death a little before
these discussions. At length, at the Council of Rheims/
came on the discussion of the propositions noted by Gode
scalc ; but as he was not a practised speaker the book of
Gilbert, and also the passages of the holy Fathers noted by
Godescalc, were delivered by the lord Pope to S. Bernard.
The Council contained Bishops from the four realms of
France, Germany, England, and Spain. Among these were
personages of great renown and of no little learning,
Geoffrey de 1 Oratoire, Archbishop of Bordeaux, whose
suffragan Gilbert was ; Milo, Bishop of Terouanne ; Joscelin,
Bishop of Soissons ; and Suger, Abbot of S. Denis, to whom
56 GENERAL PREFACE.
Louis, King of France, when setting out for Jerusalem, had
committed the administration of his entire realm ; and,
indeed, says Otto, he did this according to the prerogative
of that community (Otto, B. i. c. 55). Geoffrey, although
he did not approve the teaching of Gilbert, was favourable
to his person.
LXIII. At the first session of the Council Gilbert called his
clerks to bring in various enormous volumes, complaining
that his adversaries had quoted against him only mutilated
texts. Then Bernard spoke thus: "What need is there to
delay longer about expressions of that kind ? The origin
of this scandal arises from nothing else but this that a
great many persons believe that you think and teach that
the Divine Essence or Nature, the Divinity, Wisdom,
Goodness, Greatness are not God, but the Form in which
God is. If this is what you believe, avow it openly or deny
it." He dared to affirm, that all this was the Form of God and
not God Himself. Then Bernard replied : " Behold ! here we
have what we were seeking ; let that confession be written
down." So the supreme Pontiff directed ; and then Dom
Henry of Pisa, who was then sub-deacon of the Roman
Church, and who at a later time became a monk at Clair-
vaux, the Abbot of S. Anastasius, and finally Cardinal priest,
with the title of SS. Nereus and Achilles, brought at his
command pen, ink, and paper. But while he was drawing
up the record of that avowal of Gilbert, the latter cried out,
addressing himself to Bernard : " And do you write also
that the Divinity is God." To this Bernard replied: "Let
it be written with an iron pen, with a point of diamond."
After much disputation on one side and the other, the
Cardinals declared that they would reserve their judgment.
At this the Bishops murmur greatly because the Cardinals
reserved to themselves alone the decision of the cause, and
charged Bernard that he should draw up articles of faith in
an opposite sense to those for which Gilbert was accused,
GENERAL PREFACE. 57
fearing lest (since there were many supporters of Gilbert
among the Cardinals) the Council should be dissolved with
out any decision. Therefore Bernard did this. Then the
Bishops subscribed these articles, and sent them by Hugh,
Bishop of Autun, Milo, Bishop of Terouanne, and Abbot
Suger to the Pope, begging him to confirm them, which
Eugenius did without difficulty. At length Gilbert, being
summoned before the assembly which had met in the noble
palace called Tau (the palace of the Archbishop of Rheims
was thus called because of the shape of the battlements,
which recalled the form of the Greek letter T), he abjured
spontaneously all the errors contained in each of his pro
positions. The Pope condemned them all likewise, with
the book of the author of them, and strictly forbade that
anyone should dare to read or transcribe that book until
the Roman Church had corrected it. Gilbert having said
that he would make the corrections that the Pope required,
the Pope refused permission for him to do so. This is in
brief summary the account of Geoffrey.
LXIV. The account of Otto gives some details which are
wanting in that of Geoffrey, and in some respects does not
agree with it. Thus, he places the examination of Gilbert
as having been entered upon " when the synod was finished
and the decrees promulgated ; " then he says that it was
"after the week of Mid-Lent, and when the time of the
sacred Passion of the Lord was beginning to draw on, that
Gilbert was brought up for judgment; and that when he
had read from the books of the orthodox Fathers passages
in his defence, it was Pope Eugenius, who was fatigued with
all these quotations, and not Bernard, as Geoffrey asserts,
who required that Gilbert should say simply " whether he
believed that the supreme Essence was God," and that he,
wearied by the lengthened reading, replied, without con
sideration, " Not," which avowal the secretary of the
Council immediately caught up from his mouth. After the
58 GENERAL PREFACE.
dismissal of the assembly he says that Gilbert employed the
rest of the day and the following night in assuring himself
of the support of his friends among the Cardinals, of whom
he had no small number.
LXV. The next morning the record of the proceedings
was read, and the Bishop was called upon to reply ; but he
at length so explained his view that, if the Name of God
were taken to denote His very Nature, he allowed that it
was God ; but if it were understood to denote a Divine
Person, then he could not subscribe to that, for fear (he
said) that if he did so, without qualification, he might be led
to allow that, whatever might be affirmed of either Person,
the same might equally be affirmed of the Divine Essence ;
and so "be led on to say that as the Person of the Son had
become incarnate and had suffered, so the Divine Essence
had also been incarnated and had suffered/ He supported
this distinction by passages drawn from the works of the
Fathers Theodoret and Hilary, and also by the authority of
a Council of Toledo : il and when the Abbot of Clairvaux
wished to determine the sense of this last authority, and
employed certain words which were not pleasing to the
Cardinals," Gilbert demanded that they might be written
down, to which Bernard agreed, using the words which
Geoffrey records, " Let them be written with a pen of iron
and point of diamond." At length the holy Abbot assem
bled with the Bishops, and, together with them, drew up a
profession of faith opposed to the propositions of Gilbert,
which act of the clergy of France so grievously offended
the sacred college of Cardinals that they complained of the
matter to the Pope, both against the Bishops and against
Bernard himself, because they had ventured by drawing up
their profession of faith without even consulting the
Cardinals, to put the last touch, as it were, to the final
sentence, which office belonged to the Roman See. Ber
nard being at length called upon by the Pontiff to give
GENERAL PREFACE. 59
satisfaction to the Cardinals, replied, with deference and
humility, that neither he himself, nor the lords the Bishops
had made any definition with respect to the articles in
question ; but having been challenged by the same Bishop
of Poitiers to write down his profession of faith, he had not
been willing to do that alone, but had simply taken the
Bishops as witnesses of his views to give more authority by
their witness to that which was asked of him. At this
explanation so full of humility and modesty, the previous
indignation of the Cardinals was appeased, on condition,
however, that the writing just read having been drawn up
without reference to the Curia, should not be taken for a
Creed in the Church, as being deficient in the needful
weight of authority. "And thus no decision could be
arrived at concerning the three propositions, because of
the excitement which had before been raised." Otto
declares that this was not strange, and he adds that Gilbert
differed from the other Bishops on a fourth point also,
" since they professed that the Divine Nature was Incarnate
but in the Son." But Gilbert, "that the Person of the
Son was incarnate not without his Nature. The Roman
Pontiff spoke only on the first point, and defined that in
theology no separation can be made between the Nature
and the Person, and that the Divine Essence should be
called God not only in an ablative sense, 1 but also in a
nominative sense." 2 Gilbert reverently accepted the de
cision of the Pope, restored his Archdeacons to favour, and
returned to his diocese " in full honour, and in the com
pleteness of his powers."
LXVI. In all these accounts it is evident that Otto
strongly favoured Gilbert, therefore it is not to be wondered
at that at the end of his account he should add that it is
doubtful whether " in this matter the Abbot of Clairvaux,
being subject as a man to the weakness of human nature,
1 ?.e., by way of abstraction or predicate apparently. [E.] 3 Nomen.
60 GENERAL PREFACE.
was not deceived, or whether the Bishop, being a very
learned and accomplished man, did not simply escape the
judgment of the Church by cleverly concealing his real
meaning." But Radevic relates that Otto, when very near
his death, caused his book to be brought in which he had
written this, and delivered it to certain religious men,
" that whatever he had said on behalf of the opinions of
Magister Gilbert which might do harm to anyone might
be corrected according to their judgment." 1
Rightly does Geoffrey refer his readers with respect to
the whole of this disputation to the Sermons of Bernard in
Cantica, especially to Sermon 80, in which the holy man
does not hesitate to declare that those are heretics who
persist in defending the opinion of Gilbert, although he
refrains from mentioning the name of the author because of
his submission.
VI. OF THE HENRICIANS AND OF OTHER HERETICS
WHO WERE REFUTED BY BERNARD.
LXVII. Gilbert and Abaelard, who had fallen into theo
logical errors by a perverse employment of philosophy,
Bernard overcame by reason and authority. He overcame
equally by his actions and his example many heretics who
at that time infested the various provinces of France.
These were, in Flanders, Tanchelm, a native of Antwerp ;
in Provence, Peter de Bruys, whose followers were called
Petrobrusians ; and in Aquitaine Henry. Others there
were, but without any well-known leader, in Lorraine and
in the districts about Cologne, whom we will therefore call
Colognians. To these may be added all the followers of
Arnold of Brescia.
LXVIII. It appears from the Life of S. Norbert that he
opposed Tanchelm and his eager assaults, and that
Frederick, Bishop of Cologne, " hindered their advance and
1 Radevicus, B. ii. c. 1 1.
GENERAL PREFACE. 6l
their attacks " in the diocese of Maastricht : and on this
subject there is a letter in Tengnagel from this Church to
the same Frederick about " the seducer Tanchelm," which
gives an account of his heresy and its origin. Peter the
Venerable also laboured against the Petrobrusians, and
wrote a treatise in order to refute them. The zeal of
Bernard for the Christian cause was exercised chiefly
against the heresy of the Henricians, which he industriously
harassed by speech and writing. His Letters 240 and 241
should be read on this subject, and the Life of Bernard, by
Geoffrey, B. iii. c. 6, to all of which we will add some
further information from other sources.
LXIX. Henry, whom the holy man, and Geoffrey after
him, calls " an apostate monk," is also called " a false
hermit" in the Acts of the Bishop of Mans (Analecta,
Vol. iii.), where his character and his perverse actions are
accurately described. In what place he was born the words
used do not indicate precisely. "About the same time,"
that is to say, under Bishop Hildebert, " a certain hypocrite
appeared on the confines of these regions whose depraved
character and whose detestable doctrines rendered him
worthy of the punishment of being thrown to scorpions in
the manner of parricides." He under a feigned show of
learning and sanctity committed horrible excesses. He
was wont to boast that he could recognize at the first
glance the faults of all men, even those which were un
known to anyone. He sent to Mans two of his disciples,
who arrived in the suburbs of the city on Ash Wednesday.
" They bore, according to the custom of their master,
staves and a banner of the Cross, and resembled penitents
in all respects by the colour of their garments, and by
their kind of life. The inhabitants of Mans, being deceived
by these appearances, welcomed them as if they had been
angels. Even the Bishop Hildebert received them kindly,
and as he was on the point of setting out " on a journey to
62 GENERAL PREFACE.
Rome," he " enjoined his archdeacons amongst other things
to permit the pseudo-hermit, Henry, to enter peaceably into
the town and to preach to the people/ which he had after
wards reason bitterly to repent. Perhaps it may be inferred
from this that Henry was originally from the neighbourhood
of Mans, where he commenced to disseminate the venom
of his perverse doctrine. If he had made himself known
elsewhere already, Hildebert, who was a prelate both
learned and vigilant, would not so easily have given him
access into his city. But it may possibly be the case that
he had come from a distant region, perhaps from Italy, as I
am about to explain.
LXX. Scarcely had Henry entered into the city than
" the common people, as they were accustomed to do,
applauded his novelties." Many of the clerks also supplied
him with food, and prepared for him a platform from
whence he might address the great crowds of people,
which he did with " marvellous eloquence." The effect of
his addresses was to excite the anger of the people against
the ecclesiastics of the town. They were treated " like
heathens and publicans, so that great threatenings were
uttered against their domestics, nor would anyone buy any
thing from them or sell anything to them." They even
went so far as "to determine not only to pull down their
houses and pillage their goods, but also to stone them or
to hang them to the gibbet, had not the sovereign and the
nobles resisted their wicked intentions."
LXXI. When the turn which things had taken was but
too late perceived, the clergy of Mans forbade, by a written
notice, the preaching of Henry and his followers. Where
fore Henry, the return of Hildebert being made known,
"retired into the village of S. Carileph," by no means desist
ing from his endeavours, but breaking out into more violent
proceedings day by day. When Hildebert, on his return
from his Roman journey, wished to give his benediction to
GENERAL PREFACE. 63
the people, they being led away by the preaching of the
heretic, treated him with great disrespect. Then he went
to meet the deceiver, demanded of him " whether he had
received sacred Orders, and if so, what ? " He replied that
he was a deacon ; and having been bidden to depart out of
that province, "he fled secretly, and would have spread his
serpentine venom and troubled other regions in like
manner, but that happily his reputation preceded him." All
that we have said upon this subject is from the Acts of
Hildebert.
LXXII. During this time, two disciples of Henry, Cyprian
and Peter, renounced their errors, as an encyclical letter of
Hildebert (n. 78) declares. In this their master is thus
depicted: This was Henri, a principal snare of the devil
and well-known soldier of antichrist. Taken captive by
his appearance of religion and knowledge, these two
brothers long adhered to him, until both the turpitude of
his life and the errors of his doctrine became evident to
them. When they had become convinced that his ways
were not right, their eyes were opened as to their condition,
and they came to present themselves to us. He had so
infested our diocese with his doctrines, that our clergy had
scarcely the liberty to oppose and confute them even within
the walls of their Churches." It was thus that Hildebert
was convinced, though very late, of the danger to which he
had exposed himself by an incautious approbation of un
known teachers, who under an appearance of piety corrupt
the minds of their hearers.
LXXIII. It is clear from what precedes, that this Henry
infested the diocese of Mans long before he approached the
neighbourhood of Toulouse, whence Bernard expelled him :
since the journey to Rome, which Hildebert undertook
while he was yet Bishop of Mans and during the time of
which that wicked deceiver sowed the tares among the
people of Mans, must have taken place before 1125, in
64 GENERAL PREFACE.
which year Hildebert became Archbishop of Tours. But
Bernard, on the other hand, did not go into the neighbour
hood of Toulouse before 1147. In his Letter 241, which he
wrote from Toulouse to Count Hildefonsus, the holy man
expresses himself in these terms : " Inquire if you please, in
what manner he has departed from the city of Lausanne, from
Mans, from Poitiers, and from Bordeaux." It appears that
such was the itinerary of that apostate in his wanderings.
He began to preach at Lausanne, from whence he went to
Mans ;^ perhaps he had come to Lausanne from Italy, from
which rubbish of this kind, relics of the Manichaeans, passed
over into every part of France. Such were those heretics
called Cameracenses who had come out of Italy and were in
1025 condemned at the Council of Arras. About the same
time some of them were burnt at Orleans, and indeed the
Exordium Cisterciense (Life, B. vii. c. 17) calls the
Henricians by the name of Manichaeans, where it is
reported that the legate of the Pope and other Bishops
assembled at Toulouse with our Saint, " in order to confute
the heresy of the Manichaeans." The most illustrious Bishop
of Meaux, in the excellent work which he has written con
cerning the Variations of Heretics, has clearly shown (B. xi.)
in what manner these heretics and their followers merited
the name of Manichaeans since they shared their errors.
LXXIV. The same Henrician heretics spread also in the
diocese of Perigueux, under the leadership of a certain
Pontius, as I learn in a letter from Heribert, in Vol. iii. of
my Analecta, where the peculiar tenets of those Pontians
are set out. This explains why Bernard repaired to the
people of Perigord or to Perigueux, as appears from Part iii.
of Book vi., which is that of his miracles ; it is related in
Par. 4, that he found many Arians at Toulouse, and put them
to flight as he had done the heretic Henry. Not only this,
but the same Henry having been previously condemned in
a Council at Pisa, is said to have been committed to
GENERAL PREFACE. 65
Bernard in order that he might become a monk at Clairvaux.
But he, after he had received a letter from Bernard to the
inmates of Clairvaux, preferred to persist obstinately in the
error which he had once taken up, rather than to return in
this brief and easy manner to the way of salvation.
LXXV. Bernard depicts Henry in vivid colours in his
Letter 251 already quoted. He represents him as a man
well-educated and having an appearance of piety, but given
over to gaming and to bad women. He enumerates as his
errors these : He made no account of priests and persons in
holy Orders, he abolished sacraments and festivals, and
refused baptism to infants. Of another class was that
heretic, who is mentioned by Hildebert in his Letter 51,
who rejected intercessions of saints, and endeavoured,
without success, to draw Hildebert himself into giving
patronage to his sect. But whether those heretics whom
Bernard addresses himself to confute in his Sermons 65 and
66, super Cantica, are the same as the Henricians we must
now inquire.
LXXVI. I was myself at one time of the opinion that
they were the same, but the discovery of a letter of Ever-
vinus, Abbot of Steinfeld, which was the occasion of these
two Sermons, made me change my opinion. Those heretics
were, in fact, from Cologne, and, though they shared in
some points the errors of the Henricians, they differed from
them in many respects. Evervinus divided the heretics
from Cologne into two classes. One class pretended that
they alone constituted the Church, since they only walked
in the footsteps of Christ. In respect of food they forbade
the use of milk and whatever was made of it. In their
sacraments they covered themselves with a veil. They
asserted that they consecrated every day their food and
their drink to be the Body and Blood of Christ, and that
other people in their sacraments were far distant from the
truth. Besides the baptism of water they employed another
VOL. I. 5
66 GENERAL PREFACE.
in fire and the spirit by the imposition of hands alone. Our
baptism they rejected, as also marriage. Finally they
declared that whomsoever was chosen or baptized among
them had the power of baptizing others whom he thought
worthy, and of consecrating upon their altar (mensa] the
Body and Blood of Christ.
LXXVII. The others refused to the priests of the Church
as living in a worldly manner the power of consecrating and
of administering the other sacraments, baptism excepted,
which latter they used to confer, not on children, but on
adults alone. Every marriage contracted between persons
who had ceased to be virgin they regarded as fornication.
Lastly, they rejected the prayers of saints, fasting, and
other bodily mortifications ; also purgatory and prayers for
the dead.
LXXVIII. The Henrician heretics and those of Cologne,
therefore, were of similar views, inasmuch as they held in
hatred the ministers of the Church, the sacraments, the
baptism of infants, and marriage. They differed only in a
few particulars which arose from a certain variety of dis
position than from opposing principles. In one word, they
were different branches, but they sprang from the same
root. I have no doubt that these heretics of Cologne were
produced from the workshop of Tanchelm. He was a lay
man, as Abaelard asserts, who disseminated his errors in
Flanders, and especially at Antwerp, and at length arrived
at such a point of madness that he used to call himself the
Son of God, and caused a temple to be built to himself, it
is said, by the people whom he had seduced. For this
reason there was founded by the Bishop of Tournay, under
whose jurisdiction that place then was, a company of twelve
clerics in the Church of S. Michael at Antwerp, in order
that they should combat these impious dogmas, which
church was afterwards given over to S. Norbert. What
were the perverse dogmas of Tanchelm I learn from a Letter
GENERAL PREFACE. 67
of the Church at Maastricht to Frederick, Bishop of Cologne,
" Concerning the seducer, Tanchelm." He used to say
that " the Churches of God ought to be considered places
of prostitution ; that what was done by the priest s office at
the table of the Lord was absolutely nothing ; that the sacra
ments ought to be called pollutions, and that their efficacy
came to them from the holiness and the merits of the
ministers who performed them," all of which agree per
fectly well with the wild fancies of the heretics previously
named. A certain presbyter, Evervacher, " apostatizing
from his priestly dignity, adhered to the service of that
execrable man and followed him to Rome." The same
person did much harm afterwards to the Church at
Maestricht. The whole clergy of that city returned thanks
to Frederick because "he hindered the progress and success"
of Tanchelm, from which it is to be inferred that his errors
had penetrated even into the diocese of Maestricht, and as
far as Cologne, as is evident from the Letter of Evervinus,
and that those heretics of Cologne arose from the same
author.
LXXIX. Hugo Metellus, who was then a canon regular
<of Toul, is a witness in his Letter to Henry, Bishop of that
city, that a scourge of the same kind had crept in upon the
:soil of Toul. " There are hiding in your diocese," he says,
" or rather are beginning to show themselves, men who are
destructive, who would be more truly called by the name of
.savage beasts, since they live in a similar way, for they
condemn Marriage, they abhor Baptism, they make a
mockery of the Sacraments of the Church, and they abhor
the very name of Christian." These were, without doubt,
the miserable and ill-omened disciples of the heretics of
Cologne.
LXXX. To the Henricians succeeded, or rather were
.added, men of the same stamp, who called themselves
Cathari, that is to say, the pure ; whose errors Bonacursus,
68 GENERAL PREFACE.
who was at first their master at Milan, has laid bare and
confuted in a book which has been published in Spicilegium,
B. iii. These have much affinity with the tenets of the
Manichaeans, as also with those of the other heretics whom
we have mentioned above. It is to the Cathari that Gilbert
of Hoiland seems to make allusion in his Sermon 36, in
Cantica, n. 6. " There shoot up," he says, " in these days
certain trees which our Heavenly Father hath not planted,
trees whose origin is not from our Libanus. These are the
men who boast of their endurance in labour, their patience
under injuries, and their endurance of poverty. They seem
to be cedars, but they are not those of Libanus. Their
heart and conscience is defiled." Ecbert, Abbot of Schonoue,
also wrote Sermons against the Cathari, which still remain.
LXXXI. Bonacursus associates the Passagiens and the
Arnoldists with the Cathari, the former because they declared
that all the rites of the Mosaic Law ought to be observed.
They equally denied the divinity of the Son and of the
Holy Ghost, and rejected the authority of all the Doctors of
the Catholic Church, as they did also and chiefly that of the
Roman Church. The latter that is, the Arnoldists
thought that " the Sacraments of the Church ought to be
avoided because of the corruption of the clergy."
LXXXII. They took this name, I imagine, from that
factious man Arnold, who, under pretext of restoring
liberty and the Republic at Rome, desired all the temporal
rights of the Pontiff to be abrogated, and to leave him only
the power over spiritual things with tithes and free will
offerings. He was born at Brescia, and was a clerk of the
Church of that town. He had been a disciple of Peter Abae-
lard, and had a strong liking for new and singular opinions,,
as Otto of Frisingen testifies. After having studied in
France he returned to Italy, and assumed the habit of the
Religious, the better to deceive the unwary ; which, how
ever, did not prevent him from being a hater of monks, and
GENERAL PREFACE. 69
especially of the clergy. While he flattered laymen, he
used to say that neither clerks who had property, nor
Bishops who had rights of temporal lordship, nor monks
who held lands, could possibly be saved, but that all these
things pertained to the sovereign. Besides this, he is said
not to have held correct opinions respecting the Sacrament
of the Altar, nor the Baptism of infants" (Otto Fris., B.
ii. 20). Thus he was infected with the errors of the
Petrobrusians and Henricians. Innocent II. expelled him
from Italy and obliged him to retire to Zurich in Switzer
land. Having heard of the death of Innocent, he returned
to Rome at the beginning of the pontificate of Eugenius,
and, finding the city ill-disposed towards the new Pontiff, he
blew upon the flame of sedition. This reached so great a
height that the Cardinals were maltreated, some of them
wounded, and Eugenius himself driven from Rome.
Bernard undertook the cause of the Pontiff, and wrote to
the Romans a magnificent Letter on this subject (Letter 243).
He addressed another in the same sense to the Emperor
Conrad, whom the Romans had endeavoured without
success by a Letter, given by Otto (B. i. 28), to draw over
to their side. Thus our Saint was never found wanting to
any needful work, nor to any necessity of the Church ; he
seemed to have been born only to labour for the common
interest of the Christian Republic. At last Arnold was
.apprehended, attached to a post by order of the prefect of
that Rome which he had so greatly flattered, and his body
reduced to ashes, " so that his remains might not be held in
veneration by the foolish populace." Much more respecting
him may be read in Otto and in the Notes from that author
to Letter 195 of Bernard.
VII. OF THE CRUSADE PREACHED BY S. BERNARD
AND ITS UNHAPPY ISSUE.
LXXXIII. One of the last labours of Bernard was the
preaching of an expedition into the Holy Land, which
JO GENERAL PREFACE.
enterprise was for him the source of great labour and
anxiety, as may be easily understood both from his Life and
his writings. Otto of Frisingen attributes to Louis the
Younger, King of France, the idea of this expedition. He
felt himself strongly influenced by the idea of making a
voyage to the Holy Places, as his brother Philip, who was
" bound by the same vow," had been prevented by death
from fulfilling it. He imparted his design to the chief
noblemen of his court, and they determined to take the
advice of Bernard on that subject. The holy abbot being
then summoned, was of opinion that a matter of such
great importance should be referred " to the consideration
of the Roman Pontiff." Eugenius sanctioned and greatly
approved the project, and "committed to the Abbot of
Clairvaux full power of preaching and of exciting the zeal
of all to this enterprise, since he was regarded as a prophet
or apostle among all the peoples of France and Germany."
Bernard obeyed the Apostolic letter, "and having raised the
minds of very many persons to a high pitch of enthusiasm
for the expedition beyond the sea, he gave the Cross at
Vezelay to King Louis, to Thierry, Count of Flanders, to
Henry, son of Theobald, Count of Blois, and to other barons
and nobles."
LXXXIV. In the meantime a certain monk, named
Ralph, whilst preaching the Crusade also in Germany,
excited the Christians to commence by the murder of the
Jews. Bernard repressed his zeal by a Letter, and he himself
undertook to preach the Crusade in the east of France,
that is to say, in that region of Germany which borders on
the Rhine. Then the Emperor Conrad summoned a general
assembly at Spires, whither Bernard proceeded, and, "by the
working of many miracles, both in private and public, he
persuaded the Emperor Conrad and his nephew Frederick
and other princes and illustrious persons to take the Cross."
Frederick, Duke of Suabia, whom his son had greatly
GENERAL PREFACE. 71
displeased by taking the Cross, he succeeded in appeasing;
he ordered the monk Ralph to return to his cloister, and in
his place he gave to Conrad, who was travelling through
Bavaria, Adam, Abbot of Eberach, to help him in urging on
the departure of the expedition. There is extant a Letter of
Bernard (n. 363) on this subject addressed to the peoples
of the East of France ; it is followed by a Letter addressed
to Henry, Archbishop of Mayence, to beg him to repress
the zeal of Ralph. " Thus," continues Otto, " not only the
whole of the Roman Empire, but also the neighbouring
realms, Western France, England, Pannonia, and many
other peoples and nations, rose to take the Cross on hearing
of this expedition, and almost the entire West became
peaceful, so that it was regarded as a crime not only to
excite private quarrels, but also for any one to bear arms in
public."
LXXXV. So great an impression upon the whole of the
West is to be ascribed to the preaching of Bernard ; but
when the success of the expedition did not answer to the
hopes and prayers of the people, all the obloquy of the ill-
success was thrown upon him also, as is customary with
mortals who judge of things according to their issue; nor
was there anything that ever caused greater grief to
Bernard than that, not for his own sake, but for the cause of
God. Thus he says at the commencement of Book ii. Of
Consideration : " If it is needful for one of two things to
o
happen, I prefer that the murmurs of the multitude should
be against me rather than against God It would be a
happy thing for me if the world would deign to use me for a
shield to ward off blows directed against Him. Willingly
do I accept the detraction of evil tongues," etc. The
unfortunate issue of that enterprise threw such a gloom
over the minds of almost all that the holy Doctor pro
nounced him happy " who had not been scandalized by it."
But how great was the sorrow of Bernard himself appears
72 GENERAL PREFACE.
both from Letter 288, which he wrote upon that subject
from his bed of suffering, caused probably by grief of mind,
and from the Letter of John, Abbot of Casa Mario, to
Bernard himself, which is now numbered 386 among those
of Bernard, in which the author tries to console our Saint,
whom he had heard was deeply afflicted on account of the
unfortunate issue of the expedition.
LXXXVI. Yet there were not wanting those who came
forward to defend Bernard, among whom must be reckoned,
and not in the last place, Otto, Bishop of Frisingen, who
was not in the habit of greatly favouring Bernard. Hr
makes a digression in his Book de Gestis Friderici (chap.
Ix.) to excuse the failure of that expedition, in which he
himself had taken part. At the end of an excursus, philo
sophical rather than historical, he thus concludes in favour
of Bernard : "Yet if we should say that that holy Abbot
was inspired by the Spirit of God to rouse us to that enter
prise, but that we, disobeying the salutary commandments
of God by our pride and our licence, have deservedly com
promised both the success of the undertaking and the safety
of those engaged in it, we should say nothing contrary
to ancient examples and arguments." Yet one thing, he
adds, namely, that " the spirits of the prophets are not
always subject to the prophets," desiring, no doubt, to
indicate by these words that it is not absolutely certain that
Bernard had spoken by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit
respecting that expedition, when he conjectured what the
event of it would be.
LXXXVII. And yet Bernard himself, at the beginning of
B. ii. de Consideratione, written to Pope Eugenius, when
trying to defend that enterprise from calumny, does not
hesitate to say that he was impelled from above to what he
did. "We have spoken of peace," he says, "and there is
no peace ; we have promised success, and behold con
fusion." Then he adds these words in his own defence :
GENERAL PREFACE. 73
" Can it be said that I acted rashly or lightly in that matter?
1 have run, indeed, in it not (as the Apostle says) as un
certainly, but at your bidding, or rather at the bidding of
God, through you." And a little farther on he supposes his
adversaries to reproach him thus : " How do we know that
your word comes from the Lord ? What sign doest thou
that we may believe thee ? " And addressing himself to
Eugenius he replies thus : " I have nothing to reply to that ;
modesty constrains me to be silent. Do you reply for me
and for yourself according to what you have heard and seen."
In which words he, without doubt, makes a modest refer
ence to the miracles done by him for the confirmation of his
preaching.
LXXXVIII. But of all his apologists Geoffrey, his disciple,
best vindicates his master from reproaches (Life, B. iii. c.
4). He first remarks that Bernard was not the original
author of the enterprise ; "in fact, the proved necessity of
the Crusade had already won over the minds of many
persons when he was called into counsel once and again by
the King of France, and entrusted with the matter also,
by letters from the Pope ; nor did he consent to open his
mouth upon this subject nor to give advice to the people
until he was bidden by the express communication of the
Pontiff himself to lay the matter before peoples and princes
as the tongue of the Roman Church." His preaching,
undertaken by him as a matter of obedience, \vas at length
confirmed from on high by so many and so great miracles
and signs that " it would be very difficult to relate them or
even to enumerate them." Finally, that if the Eastern
Church did not obtain freedom by that expedition, at all
events the Church on high attained a joy proportioned to
the number of those who, by their death, " rendered up
their souls to Christ in the fruit of penitence and purified
by many tribulations." And, indeed, this was the very
truth which John, the holy Abbot of Casa Mario,
74 GENERAL PREFACE.
signified to Bernard had been made known to him by
revelation.
LXXXIX. But why do we delay in justifying Bernard ?
His authority has long been so great in the eyes of all, even
of the heterodox, that his life, his extraordinary sanctity,
and his teaching are approved by the general opinion and
praise of all.
XC. So much it seemed proper to me to say by way of
Preface to this new edition of the Works of S. Bernard. It"
it shall seem careful and accurate to the learned, my friends
and the companions of my studies, Dom Michael Germain,
D. Thierry Ruinart, and also D. Edmond Martene, who
have expended their labour upon this edition with much
love and industry, will have the praise. For myself I ask
but one reward, as I have proposed to myself but one end,
that the fruit of my labour should be, if only in some small
degree, serviceable and useful to the admirers of S.Bernard,
to the Church, and to the entire Christian world.
To this preface in the fourth edition, from which \ve have trans
lated, the following note is appended :
Such, with the exception of a few words, were the prefatory
observations made by D. John Mabillon to his second edition of
S. Bernard, which we reproduce in preference to others, inasmuch
as it is considered of higher value by the studious. In the year
1719 appeared a third edition, with various additions, respecting
which we read at the end of Mabillon s preface as follows :
" D. Massuet had made a beginning of labour upon this edition,
and would have proceeded with it had not an untimely death put a
period to his studies. To him are owing, in Vol. i., two recently
discovered Letters, Nos. 418 and 419, a third drawn from the
Miscellanea of Baluze, No. 425, and also two charters, whereof the
former is for the monasteries of Lisieux and S. Evre, and the other
for the monastery of S. Amand de Boisse. In the second volume
there will be found new : The third book of the Epistle to the
GENERAL PREFACE. 75
Brethren of Mont Dieu, and the Adtnonitio of D. Massuet, in which
he claims the entire Epistle, which was ascribed to William of
S. Thierry, as having been written by Guigo, fifth Prior of the
Grande Chartreuse. Also another Observatio of the same writer
which assigns the Treatise de Contemplando Deo, and that de Natura
d Dignitate Amoris to William of S. Thierry. Lastly, the Letter
of Tromund, monk of Clairvaux, respecting the canonization of
S. Bernard, which has not before been published."
In this fourth edition we have not omitted these additions, and
we have furthermore included thirty-six Letters of S. Bernard which,
after the above editions were completed, D. Martene transcribed
from MSS., viz., thirty-four from the Vedastine, one from that of
Anchin, and another spurious one from Verdun, and first made
public in his Amplissima Collectio Veterum Scriptorum, etc.,
Tom. I., pp. 725-744. Of these the first is numbered in the
common order of the Letters, 420, and the thirty-fifth,
454, the spurious one, 455. Also a Hymn of the holy Doctor,
which in the same Collection (Tom. i. p. 746) D. Martene has
brought forward from the Aldenberg MS., and as it is in the praise
of S. Malachi, it finds an appropriate place in Vol. ii., after the
Life of that Bishop. In order that this new edition might be the
more correct,! have consulted not only three examples of Mabillon,
but also some older copies.
BERNARDINE CHRONOLOGY.
A.D.
1091. The fourth year of Pope Urban II., the 35th of the
Emperor Henry IV., the 3ist of Philip I., King of
France, BERNARD was born in the castle called Fon
taines, near Dijon, in Burgundy. His father was
Tescelin Sorus, lord of Fontaines ; his mother Alith,
daughter of Bernard, lord of Montbar. His paternal
house was lately, by the gift of Louis XIII., King of
France, granted to the Feuillant Fathers for a convent.
1098. B. Robert, Abbot of Molesmes, taking with him
twenty-one monks of the same house, withdrew into
the desert of Citeaux, and there founded a new
monastery, in the Diocese of Chalons, about five
leagues from Dijon, with the approval and help of
Walter, Bishop of Chalons, and Hugh, Archbishop of
Lyons.
1099. Death of Urban II. He is succeeded by Paschal
II., who had been a monk of Cluny.
B. Robert, on the complaints of the monks of
Molesmes, is commanded by the Pope to return to
Molesmes. He is succeeded at Citeaux by Prior
Alberic. This year the Church is dedicated to the
honour of B. V. M.
noo. This year the monks John and Ilbodus are sent to
Rome with commendatory Letters. Paschal II. con
firms the foundation of Citeaux, and confers privileges
upon it.
1101. Abbot Alberic institutes a stricter observance of the
Rule of S. Benedict.
1 1 02. Odo, Duke of Burgundy, founder of Citeaux, dies,
and is buried in the Abbey Church. In the same year
his son Henry puts on the monastic habit there.
BERNARDINK CHRONOLOGY. 77
A.D.
1 103. The Cistercians are believed to have changed from a
black habit to a white ; and they propose to recite
daily the office of the B. V. M.
i 105. Alith, mother of S. Bernard, is believed to have died
this year.
1109. B. Alberic, second Abbot of Citeaux, died this year,
having sat 9^ years. He is succeeded by B. Stephen
Harding, of a noble English family, and formerly
Prior.
i no. In this year died B. Robert, Abbot of Molesmes, and
first founder of Citeaux.
1113. Is to be noted for the conversion of B. Bernard. He
entered the community at Clairvaux, then under Abbot
Stephen, with thirty companions, and thereby made it
well known. The Cistercian Order begun from that
time to flourish greatly.
In the same year Ferte (Firmitas], the eldest
daughter-house of Citeaux, was founded in the Diocese
of Chalons. The first Abbot was Bertrand.
114. Bernard prays for and obtains the ability to reap,
which his weakness of body had hitherto prevented.
Pontigny, the second daughter-house of Citeaux, is
founded four leagues from Autun. The Church of this
community was afterwards built by Theobald, Count of
Champagne, who was styled the founder. The first
Abbot was Hugo of Macon, afterwards Bishop of
Autun, to whom Bernard wrote many Letters.
1115. In this year were founded Clairvaux and Morimund,
third and fourth daughter-houses of Citeaux. The
former not by Theobald, as some think (confounding
the translation of Clairvaux in 1135 with its founda
tion), but by Hugo, Count of Troyes, and Bernard was
made Abbot of it, being then in his twenty-fourth
year.
Morimund was in the same diocese, and was founded
by Odalric d Egremont, and Adeline, his wife, Lords of
Choiseul. These four abbeys were the daughter-
.7 8 BERNARDINE CHRONOLOGY.
A.D.
houses of Citeaux in the first degree, as it were, and it
was from them that in after-time others arose.
Arnold was first Abbot of Morimund, to whom
Letter 4.
1116. The first general chapter of the Cistercian Order
called together by B. Stephen. It was to be summoned
each year afterwards on the i3th September.
1117. Bernard, being enfeebled by illness, is by the inter
position of William, Bishop of Chalons, committed to
a country doctor for medical treatment. In the same
year, or about that time, is believed to have taken
place the conversion of Tescelin, father of Bernard,
who died not long after in the reputation of sanctity.
1118. In this year began the Order of the Soldiers of the
Temple, founded by Hugh de Payen and Geoffrey
d Aldhemar, and confirmed in a Council at Treves,
1128.
There was also founded the monastery of Trois
Fontaines, in the Diocese of Chalons, first daughter-
house of Clairvaux. The first Abbot was Roger, the
second Guy, to whom Letters 69, 70.
Also Fontenay, a second daughter-house, in the
Diocese of Autun. The first Abbot was Godfrey, a
relative of Bernard. He afterwards returned to Clair
vaux, where he became the third Prior, and at length
Bishop of Langres.
1119. In this year was completed the thirty articles or
chapters, fixing the usages of the Cistercian Order,
and commonly called the Charter of Charity. It was
drawn up by B. Stephen, Abbot of Citeaux, with the
assent of his co-abbots, twelve in all, and approved by
Pope Callistus II.
1 120. S. Norbert, whom Bernard calls " the reed-pipe of the
Holy Spirit" (Letter 56), founds the Praemonstraten-
sian Order in a spot of the territory of Laon, commonly
known as Premontre.
1 1 21. A Synod is held at Soissons against Peter Abaelard,
BERNARDINE CHRONOLOGY. 79
A.D.
under the presidency of Conon, Bishop of Praeneste,
Legate of the Holy See, in which Peter himself was
obliged to commit his book on the Trinity to the
flames. William of Champeaux, Bishop of Chalons,
died this year.
The monastery of Foigny founded, in the Diocese of
Laon, to whose Abbot, Rainald, Bernard wrote Letters
72-74.
1 122. Peter Maurice de Montboisier, called the Venerable,
an Auvergnat, and a very dear friend of Bernard, was
made Abbot of Cluny.
1123. About this year Peter, Abbot of Ferte, was chosen
to be Bishop of Tarentum, being the first of the
Cistercian Order to become a Bishop, and was suc
ceeded by Bartholomew, brother of Bernard.
Suger elected Abbot of S. Denys in succession to
Abbot Adam.
1125. Death of the Emperor, Henry V., and a disputed
succession.
In the same year a severe famine in France and
Burgundy, which gives extensive exercise to the charity
of Bernard.
1126. Otto, afterwards Bishop of Frisingen, a well-known
chronicler, enters upon the monastic state in the com
munity of Morimund.
1127. About this time Stephen, who from having been
Chancellor had become Bishop of Paris, was reclaimed
by the admonitions of Bernard from living the life of a
mere courtier to a more faithful fulfilment of the duties
of his office. He was harshly treated and persecuted by
King Louis, but was at length restored to favour by the
efforts of Bernard. Henry, Archbishop of Sens, who
not long after fell under the royal displeasure for a
similar cause, was also defended by him. See Letter
45 and notes.
The monastery of Igny, fourth daughter-house of
Clairvaux, was founded in the Diocese of Rheims. The
80 BERNARDINE CHRONOLOGY.
A.D.
first Abbot was Humbert, who not long after resigned
his post through love of quiet, and returned to Clair-
vaux, for which Bernard, then in Italy, wrote him a
letter of severe reprimand (Letter 141). The second
Abbot was Guerric, a man famed alike for his piety
and his writings.
1128. A Council held at Troyes, under Matthew, Bishop of
Albano, at which were present Stephen, Abbot of
Citeaux, Bernard, of Clairvaux, and other Abbots of the
same Order. In it a white habit (to which Eugenius
III. afterwards added a red cross) was prescribed for
the Knights of the Temple, and a Rule drawn up to
govern the Order.
O
Regny founded in Diocese of Auxerre.
1129. The same Legate holds a Council at Chalons; where
by the advice of Bernard, Henry, Bishop of Verdun,
was deposed from his See and another Bishop ap
pointed.
Monastery of Ourcamp (He de France), in the
Diocese of S. Cloud, founded by the Bishop Simon.
1130. Death of Pope Honorius II. and schism in the
Church, caused by an election to the Papacy disputed
between Gregory (Innocent) and Peter Leonis (Ana-
el etus). Bernard energetically supported the cause of
Innocent for eight years.
In the same year Bernard firmly refused the vacant
Archbishopric of Genoa. Also Baldwin, in a Council
held at Clermont, was admitted to the College of
Cardinals ; he was the first Cistercian to be raised to
that rank.
1131. Pope Innocent is magnificently received at Liege,
having come into France late in the former year.
Bernard induces Lothair to abandon his demand for
the cession of investitures, and the Pope crowns him
King of Germany in the same place. The Imperial
diadem is to be conferred in Rome two years later.
After this he crowned the young Prince Louis in place
BERNARDINE CHRONOLOGY. 8l
A.D.
of his dead brother ; then consecrated a church at
Cluny ; and after that visited Clairvaux and other
churches, Bernard accompanying him everywhere. In
this year also Bernard was elected to the Bishopric
of Chalons, but firmly declined it.
In this year was the murder of Thomas, Prior of S.
Victor, at Paris, by the nephews of Theobald Notier,
Archdeacon of Paris. In this year were founded the
following daughter houses :
Moreruela, in Castile.
S. John of Tarouca, in Portugal.
Longpont, in the Diocese of Soissons.
Charlieu, in the Diocese of Besanfon.
Bonnemont, in Savoy ; Diocese of Geneva.
Rievaulx, in England ; Diocese of York.
1132. Bernard proceeded into Italy after departure of Pope
Innocent ; reconciled the Pisans and Genoese, and
modestly but decidedly rejected the Archbishopric of
Genoa, once more offered to him.
At this time arose that great controversy between
the Cluniacs and Cistercians, arising out of the
exemption of the latter from tithes by Pope Innocent.
See Letters 228, 283.
In this year were founded :
Vaucelles, in Diocese of Cambrai (Letter 186).
Fountains (Tres fontes], in England, Diocese of
York (Letters 92, 94).
1133. S. Bernard, since the forces of Innocent \vere not
sufficient for taking Rome (the Emperor Lothair had
supplied him with 2,000 soldiers only), wrote to
Henry, King of England, to beg help. But at length
Innocent obtained entrance into Rome, and crowned
Lothair in the Lateran Church. When Lothair returned
home Innocent was obliged to retire to Pisa, whence
Bernard was sent into Germany to reconcile Conrad
to the Emperor Lothair. At this time the holy Abbot
sent the congratulatory Letter to the Pisans, because
VOL. I. 6
82 BERNARDINE CHRONOLOGY.
A.D.
they had resisted the attempts of Anacletus to win
them over to his party (Letter 130). On this journey
took place the conversion of Mascelin (Life, iv. 3),
and also of the Duchess of Lorraine.
1 134. A Council was held at Pisa, at which Bernard attended
by command of Pope Innocent, having made peace
between Lothair and Conrad. He had great difficulty
to avoid accepting the Archbishopric of Milan, which
was pertinaciously pressed upon him.
He founded a monastery of his Order at Chiaravalle
(Chara-Vallis], near Milan. Then he proceeded to
Paris and Cremona to reconcile those cities ; but not
having succeeded at Cremona, he notified their ob
stinacy to Innocent (Letter 318).
In the meantime, after the Council, Norbert, founder
of the Praemonstratensian Order, departed this life ;
also Stephen, Abbot of Citeaux, who was at length
succeeded by Raynald, son of Milo, Count of Bar-sur-
Seine.
There were founded this year Hemmerode, in the
Diocese of Treves, and Vauclaire (Vallts-Clara), in
that of Laon. The first Abbot (of the latter) was Henry
Murdach, to whom Letter 321.
1135. Bernard, after his return through Milan from Italy,
was enabled to accomplish the transfer of Clairvaux to
a more convenient site (Life, ii. 5). Scarcely had he
settled there than he was sent, with Geoffrey, Bishop
of Chartres, into Aquitaine, to reclaim William, Count
of Poitou, and other schismatics led away by Gerard,
Bishop of Angouleme (c. 6). A little after his return
he undertook his Exposition of the Canticles, at the
request of another Bernard, viz., Desportes, Prior of
the Chartreuse (Letters 153, 154).
This year were founded :
Buzay, in the Diocese of Nantes, by Ermengarde,
Countess of Brittany, whom he had recalled from
worldly vanity during his journey just mentioned
BEKNARDINE CHRONOLOGY. 83
A.D.
(Letters 116, 117). The first Abbot was John, to
whom Letter 232.
Hautecombe, in the Diocese of Geneva.
Grace de Dieu, in Diocese of Saintes.
Eberbach, in Diocese of Mentz.
1 136. Guy, the eldest of Bernard s brothers, died away from
Clairvaux, according to his brother s prediction (Life,
ii. 12), namely, at Pontigny.
This year were founded :
Balerne, Diocese of Besancon ; first Abbot, Burchard,
to whom Letter 146.
Maison Dieu, on the Cher, in Diocese of Bourges ;
the first Abbot was Robert, cousin of Bernard, to
whom Letter i.
Auberive, Diocese of Langres.
There was also adopted the Abbey des Alpes, in the
Diocese of Geneva ; Guarine, the Abbot, and
afterwards Bishop of Sion, urging the transfer
(Letter 253).
1137. Bernard is summoned into Italy for the third time by
Innocent, the cause of Anacletus being still supported
by his great partisan Roger of Sicily.
In this year were founded :
Di Columba, Diocese of Placentia, in Italy.
Bocchia, Diocese of Vesprin in Hungary (although
this is referred by some to 1153).
There was also adopted the monastery of Valparaiso
(formerly Bellus-Fons], in Spain.
1138. The Emperor Lothair II. died this year, and was
succeeded by Conrad, Duke of Franconia, his former
rival.
Also the Antipope Anacletus. The successor to him
elected by the Cardinals of his party, Cardinal Gregory,
called Victor, resigned the Papal insignia into the hands
of Bernard, and submitted to Innocent, thus closing
the schism, in great measure through the zeal and
prudence of Bernard. " But the holy Abbot, leaving
84 BERNARDINE CHRONOLOGY.
A.D.
the Roman Court without delay, returned into France,,
nor would he bring back anything with him by way
of gift or recompense, beyond a tooth of S. Caesarius,
and other relics of saints" (Life, iv. i). His brother
Gerard died this year. He now resumed his work on
the Canticles, which had been interrupted.
In this year Rainald, Archbishop of Rheims, died ;.
and after two years Samson, Bishop of Chartres, was
made his successor, Bernard himself having declined
the dignity.
This year was founded the monastery of Nisors,
Diocese of Lyons, over which was set Alberic, to whom
Letter 173.
There was adopted also that of Dunes, Diocese of
Bruges. The first Abbot was Robert, who afterwards
succeeded Bernard at Clairvaux. To him Letter 324.
1139. Lateran Council assembled at Rome. In this year
Malachi, Primate of Ireland, visited Clairvaux on his
way to Rome. He left there six of his companions to
be trained in the Cistercian Rule, that they might
introduce it into Ireland.
1 140. A Council held at Sens, in which the errors of Abaelard
are condemned. He retired to Cluny, and two years
later died at the monastery of S. Marcellus, Chalons,,
where he had gone for medical treatment.
There were founded this year :
Clairmarais, Diocese of S. Omer.
Blancheland, Diocese of S. David s, Wales.
Ossera, Diocese of Orense, Gallicia.
Rivour, Diocese of Troyes, over whom was set Alan,
afterwards Bishop of Autun, compiler of a Life of
S. Bernard.
Also Pope Innocent handed over to the monks of
Clairvaux for reorganization the monastery of S.
Anastasius, at Aquae Salviae ; and there was set over it
Bernard of Pisa, a disciple of S. Bernard, who after
wards was called to the Roman See as Eugenius III.
BERXARDINE CHRONOLOGY. 85
A.D.
Also were adopted that of Benchor, 1 conveyed by
Archbishop Malachi ; and of Casamaria in Veroli, Italy.
1141. Pope Innocent laid King Louis under an interdict
because he refused to receive the Archbishop of
Bourges, whom, however, he did at length receive, and
then was absolved from an oath which he had un
reasonably taken (Letter 218 onwards).
In this year the same King Louis attacked Theobald,
Count of Champagne, and laid waste his territories
(Letters 217, 220, 222, 223).
At this time occurred the death of Humbeline, sister
of Bernard (Life, i. 6).
This year was founded the Abbey of Mellifont, in
the Diocese of Armagh, Ireland, by the efforts of Arch
bishop Malachi. It consisted of the companions whom
he had left at Clairvaux for training, with some others
(Letters 356, 357).
.1 142. Ivo, cardinal presbyter, was sent into France to pro
nounce sentence against Ralph, Count of Vermandois,
who having repudiated his former wife Eleanor, niece
of Count Theobald, had married Petronilla, the daughter
of William, Duke of Aquitaine, sister of the Queen
(Letters 216, 217, 220, 221).
Alfonso, King of Portugal, gave himself as tribu
tary, and his realm to be a fief of the Abbey of
Clairvaux, and assigned to it a payment of fifty double
Marabotines of fine gold. 3
In this year died Hugo of S. Victor, called a second
Augustine for his own age, an intimate friend and
admirer of Bernard (Letter 70).
About this time were founded :
Melon, Diocese of Tuy, in Gallicia.
Sobrado, Diocese of Compostella.
Haute Crete, Diocese of Lausanne, in Savoy.
1 Ancient name of Bangor co. Down.
2 The Abbey actually tried in \" t % to make good its claim "under this charter.
-[E.]
86 BERNARDINE CHRONOLOGY.
A.D.
1143. Pope Innocent died in this year, and was succeeded
by Guido de Castello, called Celestine II., to whom
Letters 234, 235.
Founded this year :
Alvastern, Diocese Linkoping, Sweden.
Nidal, in the same (some writers put this four years
later).
Belle Perche, Diocese of Montauban.
Meyra, in Gallicia; Diocese of Lucon.
1144. Pope Celestine died.
Bernard succeeded in making peace between King
Louis and Count Theobald (Letters 220 and onwards
should be read).
In this year died Bartholomew, Abbot of Ferte,
brother of S. Bernard. Also Stephen of Chalons,
Cardinal Bishop of Praeneste, a member of the
Cistercian Order, a man of great sanctity, to whom
Bernard wrote various Letters.
Founded :
Beaulieu, in Diocese of Rhodez.
1145. Pope Lucius died this year, and was succeeded by
Bernard, Abbot of Aquas Salvias, as Eugenius III.
(Letter 237 and onwards). At this time Bernard was
consulted by King Louis respecting a Crusade, and
devolved the decision upon the Pope.
Founded :
La Pres, in Diocese of Bourges.
1146. Council held at Chartres to consider of the Crusade,
to which Peter the Venerable was invited (Letter 364),
but was not able to come, as we collect from his reply
(B. vi., L. 1 8). Bernard was, by the direction of Euge
nius, chosen as chief advocate of this warfare. He
exhorted the peoples of Germany, of Eastern France,
the Bavarians, the English, etc., both by letters and
by preaching, to take the Cross, and was greatly
assisted by many miracles (Letters 363-365, and Book
of the Miracles of S. Bernard).
BERNARDINE CHRONOLOGY. 87
A.D.
Founded :
Boxley, in Diocese of Canterbury, England.
Villars, in Diocese of Namur, Brabant. This founda
tion the Auctarium Gemblacense fixes in the
following year in these words : " Twelve monks
with their Abbot, Laurence, and five lay brethren
(conversi), sent by B. Bernard from Clairvaux into
Brabant, erected the monastery at Villars."
1147. Pope Eugenius was driven from Rome by Arnold
(Letter 242), and took refuge in Gaul, being received
in Paris with great honour by King Louis, who had
taken the Cross in the previous year, on Palm Sunday,
and with him his brother, Robert and Geoffrey, Count
of Mellent. The King set off into Syria against the
Saracens on June 14.
In a Synod at Etampes the administration of France
was committed to Suger, Abbot of St. Denys, Gilbert
being present.
Bernard, with Alberic, Cardinal Bishop of Ostia and
Legate, and Geoffrey, Bishop of Chartres, proceeded
into Aquitaine against the heretic Henry (General
Preface, and Letter 241).
In this year Alfonso, King of Portugal, having taken
the city of Santarem by the intercessions of S. Bernard,
sent letters asking for monks to be sent that he may
found a monastery of the Cistercian Order in his
kingdom.
Founded :
Alcobaca, Diocese of Lisbon, in Portugal, by the
before-mentioned king.
Vauricher, in Diocese of Bayeux.
Margan, in Wales.
Espina, in Diocese of Palancia, in Castile, by Sanchia,
the sister of King Alfonso (Letter 301).
Also the monastery of Grandselve, in Diocese of
Toulouse, of the Order of S. Benedict, was adopted, its
Abbot, Bernard, passing over himself with the whole
house (Letter 242).
88 BERNARDINE CHRONOLOGY.
A.D.
1148. This year Pope Eugenius was present at a general
council of the Cistercian Order, and consecrated a new
cemetery for them. Taking leave of the brethren, not
without tears, he returned into Italy.
After the departure of Eugenius from France,
S. Malachi, Primate of Ireland, who was on his way
to Rome, to apply to the Pontiff for the pallium,
happily departed this life at the place he most wished,
namely, Clairvaux, and at the time also, namely, on the
very day of the solemn commemoration of all the
departed. His memory began to be held famous
immediately upon his death (see the Epistle Consola
tory, 374, to the Irish ; also his Life, by S. Bernard ;
and two Sermons delivered at the time of his burial).
The new building for the Abbey of Clairvaux was com
pleted at the very time that S. Malachi was lying at
the point of death, and the bones of the venerable
Fathers which at first had slept in the old monastery
were translated from the old cemetery to the new on
the Festival of All Saints (Sermon i. on S. Malachi, n.
i). His canonization is in the Chronicle of Clairvaux
(given by Chifflet), referred to 1192.
In the same year died the blessed Humbert, Abbot
of Igny. (For proof of this date see note on a Sermon
delivered by Bernard on his death.)
Founded :
Cambroane, in the Diocese of Cambray. The first
Abbot was Fastrade, from Clairvaux, which latter
Abbey he was the head of after Robert.
Also was adopted Alne, in the Diocese of Liege, pre
viously a Benedictine Abbey, and afterwards a house
of Regular Canons.
Also in this year Serlo, Abbot of Savigny, submitted
his own abbey and thirty other monasteries depending
upon it ; viz., the Benedictine Abbey of Savigny, in
the Diocese of Avranches, to Clairvaux, during the
meeting of the great Chapter of Citeaux ; and four also
BERNARDINK CHRONOLOGY.
A.D.
were adopted from Stephen, the founder and father of
the rising community of Obazin, in the Diocese of
Limoges.
1149. In this year King Louis returned to France after the
unsuccessful issue of the Crusade (see Letter 386 ;
Lib. de Consideratione, ii. i ; and Life, iii. 4). When
making preparations for a new expedition he was dis
suaded by the Cistercians, as Abbot Robert reports in
his Chronicle, under A.D. 1150.
In the same year Henry, brother of King Louis
(Chronicle of Tours), who had before been Treasurer
of S. Martin at Tours and afterwards had put on the
monastic habit at Clairvaux, was made Archbishop of
Beauvais (see Letter 307 and notes).
Founded this year :
Font-Morigny, Diocese of Bourges.
Aubepierre, Diocese of Limoges.
Lonway, Diocese of Langres.
Looz, Diocese of Tournay.
Also adopted, Boulancourt, a house of Regular
Canons, in the Diocese of Troyes.
1150. Bernard sends Book ii. of his de Consider atione to
Pope Eugenius, now, after many conflicts, in posses
sion of Rome, and makes it include an apology for the
recent design of a Crusade. He receives a consolatory
letter from John, Abbot of Casa Maria, in the town of
Veroli (now Letter 386 among those of Bernard).
1151. Abbot Rainald, of Citeaux, died towards the end of
the preceding year, and was now succeeded by
Goswin, Abbot of Bonnevaux, in Poitou (Letter 270).
This year died Hugo, Bishop of Auxerre. Respect
ing the election of his successor, see Letters 261, 274,
and onwards.
Also Suger, Abbot of S. Denys, to whom, when on
his death-bed, Bernard wrote Letter 266.
Founded the Monastery of Hesron, in Diocese of
Roskild, Denmark.
9 BERNARDINE CHRONOLOGY.
A.D.
1152. This year died Theobald, Count of Champagne, a
man of distinguished piety, the friend and patron of
S. Bernard. He was buried in the monastery of
Lagny, on the Marne, of which he was patron (advo-
catus}. Bernard wrote to him Letter 271 not long
before his death.
Adopted this year the Abbey of Moreilles, in
Diocese of Maillezais. Also (about this time) Armen-
tera, in Diocese of Compostella, Gallicia.
Founded :
Abbey of Clermont, in Diocese of Mans.
JI 53- Pope Eugenius died this year.
Not long after died the holy Doctor Bernard, worn
out with many labours for God and the Church. Though
his strength was consumed by violent disease since
the middle of the winter, as he writes in Letters 288,
307, 308, he had succeeded in making peace between
the townsmen of Metz. He rested in peace himself at
length, on the i8th of August, at nine o clock a.m., in
his sixty-third year, in the fortieth year of his monastic
profession, and in the thirty-eighth year of office as
Abbot. Bernard was succeeded by Robert, Abbot of
Dunes.
In this very week Ascalon, the strongest city in
Palestine, was taken by the Christians, according to
the frequently repeated promise of the Saint (Life, iii.
4)-
Founded this year monasteries at :
Peyrouse, Diocese of Perigueux.
Mores, Diocese of Langres.
And adopted :
Abbey of Monte Ramo, in Diocese of Orense, in
Gallicia.
LIST AND ORDER OF THE
LETTERS OF S. BERNARD, ABBOT.
II.
DATE.
ing.
1120.
V.
VI.
VII.
1125.
1125.
1126.
VIII.
1131.
IX.
1132.
X.
XI.
1132.
1125.
XII.
XIII.
1125.
1126.
XIV.
1126.
XV.
1126.
XVI.
1 126.
XVII.
XVIII.
XIX.
1127.
1 127.
1127.
PAGE
To his cousin Robert, who had
withdrawn from the Cister
cian Order to the Cluniac ... 107
To a youth named Fulk, who
afterwards was Archdeacon
of Langres ... ... ... 120
To the regular Canons of
Horicourt 131
To Arnold, Abbot of Mori-
mond 133
To a monk, Adam ... ... 137
To Bruno, of Cologne ... 138
To the monk Adam ... ... 140
To Bruno, Archbishop elect of
Cologne ... ... ... 159
To the same, then Archbishop
of Cologne ... ... ... 162
To the same ... ... ... 163
To Guigues the Prior, and the
other monks of the Grand
Chartreuse ... ... ... 164
To the same ... ... ... 175
To Pope Honorius ... ... 176
To the same ... ... ... 177
To Haimeric, the Chancellor. .. 178
To Peter, Cardinal Presbyter. . . 179
To Peter, Cardinal Deacon ... 179
To the same ... ... ... 181
To the same . 18^
LIST AND ORDER OF THE
XX.
XXI.
XXII.
XXIII.
XXIV.
XXV.
XXVI.
XXVII.
XXVIII.
XXIX.
XXX.
XXXI.
XXXIII.
XXXIV.
XXXV.
XXXVI.
XXXVII.
XXXVIII.
XXXIX.
XL.
XLI.
XLII.
XLIII.
XLIV.
XLV.
XLVI.
XLVII.
DATE.
1127.
1127.
1128.
1128.
1130.
1130.
1130.
H35-
H35-
1 126.
1126.
1125.
XXXII. 1 1 20.
1 1 20.
1 1 20.
1128.
1128.
1128.
1128.
1127.
1127.
1127.
1127.
1128.
1128.
1127.
1127.
1127.
195
196
PAGE
To Haimeric, the Chancellor 186
To Matthew, the Legate ... 186
To Humbald, Archbishop of
Lyons, and Legate... ... 188
To Atto, Bishop of Troyes ... 188
To Gilbert, Bishop of London,
Universal Doctor ... ... 192
To Hugo, Archbishop of Rouen 193
To Guy, Bishop of Lausanne... 195
To Ardutio, or Ardutius, Bishop
Elect of Geneva
To the same when Bishop
To Stephen, Bishop of Metz... 198
To Albero, Primicerius of Metz 199
To Hugo, Count of Champagne,
who had become a Knight of
the Temple... ... ... 200
To the Abbot of S. Nicasius, at
Rheims ... ... ... 202
To Hugo, Abbot of Pontigny. . . 205
To Drago, or Drogo, a monk... 207
To Magister Hugo Farset
To the same ...
To Theobald, Count of Cham
pagne 211
To the same
To the same ...
To the same ...
To the same ...
To Henry, Archbishop of Sens 1 218
To the same ... ... ...218
To the same ... ... ...219
To Louis, King of France ... 219
To Pope Honorius II. ... 221
To the same Pope in the name
208
2IO
213
215
217
217
1 This is the Treatise De Moribus et Officio Episcoporum.
LETTERS OF S. BERNARD, ABBOT.
93
XLVIII.
XLIX.
L.
LI.
LII.
LIII.
LIV.
LV.
DATE.
1130.
1128.
1128.
1128.
1128.
1128.
1136.
1128.
LVI.
1128.
LYII.
1128.
LVIII.
1126.
LIX.
1129.
LX.
1128.
LXI.
1125.
LXII.
1 129.
LXIII.
1128.
LXIV.
1 129.
LXV.
1 129.
LXVI.
1129.
LXVII.
1125.
LXVIII.
1125.
LXIX.
1125.
LXX.
1125.
LXXI.
1 127.
LXXII.
1127.
LXXIII.
1127.
PAGE
of Geoffrey, Bishop of Char-
tres ... ... ... ... 222
To Haimeric, the Chancellor... 224
To Pope Honorius, on behalf
of Henry, Archbishop of
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
237
238
Sens.
To the same ...
To Haimeric, the Chancellor...
To the same ...
To the same ...
To the same ...
To Geoffrey, Bishop of Char-
tres ...
To the same ...
To the same ...
To Ebal, Bishop of Chalons-
sur-Marne ...
To Guilencus, Bishop of Lan-
gres ... ... ... ... 240
To the same ... ... ... 241
To Ricuin, Bishop of Toul ... 242
To Henry, Bishop of Verdun...
To the same ...
To Alexander, Bishop of Lin
coln ...
To Alvisus, Abbot of Anchin 247
To Geoffrey, Abbot of S.
Medard
To the Monks of Flay
To the same ...
To Guy, Abbot of Trois Fon
taines
To the same ...
To the Monks of the same
place ... ... ... 264
To Rainald, Abbot of Foigny. . . 264
243
244
245
250
252
255
258
261
To the same
269
94
LIST AND ORDER OF THE
LXXXIII. II2Q.
DATE. PAGE
LXXIV. 1127. To the same ... ... ... 271
LXXV. 1127. To Artaud, Abbot of Prully ... 272
LXXVI. 1127. To the Abbot of the Regular
Canons of S. Pierremont ... 273
LXXVII. 1127. ToMagisterHugo, of S.Victor 1 275
LXXVIII. 1127. ToSuger, Abbot of S.Denys... 275
LXXIX. 1130. To Abbot Luke 288
LXXX. 1130. To Guy, Abbot of Molesmes... 290
LXXXI. 1130. To Gerard, Abbot of Pottieres 292
LXXXII. 1128. To the Abbot of S. John, at
Chartres ... ... ... 293
To Simon, Abbot of S. Nicho
las ... ... 295
To the same ... ... ... 297
To the same William... ... 299
To the same ... ... ... 303
To the Regular Canon Oger. . . 304
To the same ... ... ...314
To the same ... ... ...318
To the same ... ... ... 320
To the Abbots assembled at
Soissons ... ... ... 322
XCII. 1132. To Henry, King of England... 325
XCIII. 1132. To Henry, Bishop of Winches
ter ... ... ... ... 326
XCIV. 1132. To the Abbot of a certain
monastery at York, from
which the Prior had de
parted, taking several Re
ligious with him ... ... 327
XCV. 1132. To Thurstan, Archbishop of
York... ... ... ... 330
XCVI. 1132. To Richard, Abbot of Foun
tains, and his companions,
who had passed over to the
LXXXIV.
1 129.
LXXXV.
1125.
LXXXVI.
1130.
LXXXVII.
1126.
LXXXVIII.
1 127.
LXXXIX.
1 127.
XC.
1 127.
XCI.
1130.
1 Placed amonir the Treatises.
LETTERS OF S. BERNARD, ABBOT.
95
DATE.
XCVII. II 3 2.
XCVIII. II 3 2.
XCIX. 1132.
C. 1132.
CI. 1132.
CII. 1132.
cm. 1132.
CIV. 1132.
CV. 1132.
CVI. 1132.
CVII. 1132.
CVIII. 1132.
CIX. 1132.
CX. 1132.
CXI. 1132.
CXII. 1132.
CXIII. 1132.
CXIV. 1132.
CXV. 1132.
CXVI. 1132.
CXVII. 1132.
PAGE
331
333
334
34i
342
342
343
345
347
350
Cistercian Order from
another
To the Duke Conrad ...
Concerning the Maccabees, but
to whom written is unknown
To a certain Monk
To a certain Bishop ...
To certain Monks
To a certain Abbot
To the brother of William, a
Monk of Clairvaux . . .
To Magister Walter, of Chau-
mont.
To Romanus, sub-deacon of
the Roman Curia ...
To Magister Henry Murdach 352
To Thomas, Provost of Bever
ly 354
To Thomas, of S. Omer, after
he had broken his promise
of adopting a change of life 364
To the illustrious youth, Geof
frey de Perrone, and his
comrades
A consolatory letter to the
parents of Geoffrey ...
In the person of Elias, a monk,
to his parents
To Geoffrey of Lisieux
To the Virgin Sophia.
To another holy Virgin
To another holy Virgin, of the
Convent of S. Mary, of
Troyes ... 385
To Ermengarde, formerly
Countess of Brittany ... 387
To the same ... ... ... 388
368
37 1
372
375
376
382
LIST AND ORDER OF THE
DATE.
CXVIII. 1132.
CXIX. II 3 2.
CXX. 1132.
CXXI. 1132.
CXXII. 1130.
CXXIII. 1130.
CXXIV. 1131.
CXXV. 1131.
CXXVI. 1131.
\
CXXVII. 1132.
CXXVIII.
CXXIX.
cxxx.
CXXXI.
CXXXII.
CXXXIII.
CXXXIV.
1132.
1133-
1133-
1135-
"34-
1134-
1134-
CXXXV. 1135.
CXXXVI. 1134-
CXXXVII. 1134.
CXXXVIII. 1133.
CXXXIX. 1135.
CXL. 1135.
PAGE
To Beatrice, a noble and reli
gious lady ... ... ... 389
To the Duke and Duchess of
Lorraine ... ... ... 390
To the Duchess of Lorraine ... 391
To the Duchess of Burgundy. . . 392
To Abbot Bernard, from Hilde-
bert, Archbishop of Tours... 393
To Hildebert, Reply of Abbot
Bernard 395
To the same, who had not yet
acknowledged the lord Inno
cent as Pope ... ... 396
To Magister Geoffrey, of
Loretto 399
To the Bishops of Aquitaine,
against Gerard of Angou-
leme... ... ... ... 400
To William, Count of Poictiers,
and Duke of Aquitaine, in
the person of Hugo, Duke
of Burgundy ... ... 416
To the same ... ... ... 418
To the citizens of Genoa ... 419
To the citizens of Pisa ... 422
To the citizens of Milan ... 423
To the clergy of Milan ... 426
To all the citizens of Milan ... 427
To the novices lately converted
at Milan ... ... 428
To Peter, Bishop of Pavia . . . 429
To Pope Innocent ... ... 430
To the Empress of the
Romans ... ... ... 431
To Henry, King of England 433
To the Emperor Lothair ... 434
To the same ... ... ... 437
LETTERS OF S. BERNARD. ABBOT.
97
CXLI.
CXLII.
CXLIII.
CXLIV.
CXLV.
CXLVI.
CXLVII.
CXLVIII.
CXLIX.
CL.
CLI.
CLIII.
CLIV.
CLY.
CLVI.
CLVII.
CLVIII.
CLIX.
CLX.
CLXI.
CLXII.
CLXIII.
VOL. I.
DATE.
II 3 8.
II 3 8.
"35-
"37-
"37-
1138.
1138.
1138.
"33-
"33-
CLII. 1135.
1136.
H35-
"35-
"33-
"33-
H33-
"33-
"33-
PAGE
To Humbert, Abbot of Igny... 438
To the Monks of the Abbey of
the Alps ... ... ... 440
To his monks of Clairvaux ... 442
To the same ... ... ... 444
To the Abbots assembled at
Citeaux ... ... ... 447
To Burchard, Abbot of Balerne 468
To Peter, Abbot of Cluny . . . 469
To the same ... ... ... 472
To the same ... ... ... 472
To Pope Innocent ... ... 473
To Philip, intrusive Arch
bishop of Tours ... ... 478
To Pope Innocent, on behalf
of the Bishop of Troves . . . 479
To Bernard Desportes ... 480
To the same ... ... ... 482
To Pope Innocent on behalf of
the same when elected ... 483
To the same, on behalf of the
clergy of Orleans ... ... 484
To Haimeric, on behalf of the
same ... ... ... 485
To Pope Innocent, on the
murder of Magister Thomas,
Prior of S. Victor, at Paris 486
To the same, in the name of
Stephen, Bishop of Paris ... 491
To Haimeric, in the name of
the same Bishop ... ... 492
To Pope Innocent, on the
murder of Archembald ... 493
To Haimeric, on the
subject
same
To John of Crema, Cardinal
Presbyter, on the same ... 495
7
LIST AND ORDKR OF THK
CLXIV.
CLXV.
CLXVI.
CLXVII.
DATE.
1138.
II 3 8.
II 3 8.
II 3 8.
PAGE
CLXVIII. 1138.
CLXIX,
CLXX.
CLXXI.
CLXXII.
CLXXIII.
CLXXIV.
CLXXV.
CLXXVI.
CLXXVI I.
CLXXVI II.
CLXXIX.
CLXXX.
CLXXXI.
CLXXXII.
CLXXXIII.
CLXXXIV.
CLXXXV.
1138.
1138.
H39-
"39-
1 140.
"35-
H35-
"39-
"39-
1136.
495
500
501
53
510
To Pope Innocent, in the matter
of the Church of Langres . . .
To Falco, Dean, and Guido,
Treasurer, of the Church of
Lyons
To Pope Innocent
To the same, on the same
business
To the Bishops and Cardinals
of the Roman Curia
To Pope Innocent
To Louis the Younger, King
of France
To Pope Innocent
To the same, in the name of
Godfrey, Bishop of Langres 510
To Falco ... 511
To the Canons of Lyons, upon
the Conception of S. Mary 512
To the Patriarch of Jerusalem 518
To Pope Innocent, in the
person of Albero, Archbishop
of Treves ... ... 520
To the same, in the person of
the same ... ... ... 522
To the same, on behalf of the
same 5 2 3
To the same, on behalf of the
same
To the same, on behalf of the
same ... ...
To Haimeric, the Chancellor... 529
To Henry, Archbishop of Sens 530
To Conrad, Kingof the Romans 531
To Pope Innocent ... ... 532
, To Eustace, the occupier of the
See of Valence ... ... 532
527
LETTERS OF S. BERNARD, ABBOT.
99
DATE.
CLXXXVI. 1140.
CLXXXVII. 1140.
CLXXXVIII. 1140.
CLXXXIX. 1140.
CXC. 1 140.
CXCI. 1140.
CXCII. 1140.
CXCIII. 1140.
CXCIV. 1140.
CXCY. 1140.
CXCVI. 1140.
CXCVII. 1141.
CXCVIII. 1141.
CXCIX. 1141.
CC. 1140.
CCI. 1140.
537
541
PAGE
To Simon, son of the Castellan
of Cambray . . . ... ... 536
To the Bishops of the Pro
vince of Sens, to call them
to an assembly against
Peter Abaelard
To the Bishops and Cardinals
of the Curia, on the same
subject
To Pope Innocent, on the same
subject
To Pope Innocent, upon
certain heads of Abaelard s
errors
To Pope Innocent, in the
person of the Archbishop of
Rheims
To Magister Guido Du Chatel,
on the matter of Peter Abae
lard ...
To Cardinal Ivo, on the same
subject
549
593
The rescript of Pope Innocent,
on the same subject
To the Bishop of Constance,
about Arnold of Brescia ...
To the Legate Guido, on the
same subject
594
595
598
60 1
To Peter, Dean of Besancon 603
To Pope Innocent ... ... 604
To the same ... ... 606
To Magister Ulger, Bishop of
Angers, on the quarrel be
tween him and the Abbess
of Fontevraud
To Baldwin, Abbot of Rieti ..
100
LIST AND ORDER OF THE
DATE.
CCII. 1144.
CCIII. 1140.
CCIV. 1140.
CCV. 1140.
CCVI. 1140.
CCVII. 1139.
CCVIII. 1139.
CCIX. 1139.
CCX. 1139.
CCXI. 1139.
CCXII. 1139-
CCXIII. 1139.
CCXIV. 1140.
CCXV. 1140.
CCXVI. 1142.
CCXVII. 1142.
CCXVIII. 1143.
CCXIX. 1143.
CCXX. 1143.
CCXXI. 1142.
CCXXII. 1142.
PAGE
To the clergy of Sens ... 612
To Atto, the Bishop of Troyes
and his Clergy 613
To the Abbot of S. Aubin ... 614
To the Bishop of Rochester... 614
To the Queen of Jerusalem ... 616
To Roger, King of Sicily ... 617
To the same ... . .. 618
To the same ... ... 619
To Pope Innocent, on behalf
of Samson, Bishop of
Rheims ... 620-
To the same, on behalf of the
Archbishop of Canterbury,
and the Bishop of London... 621
To the same, on behalf of the
deposed Bishop of Sala
manca
To the same, in protest
To the same, on behalf of
Nicholas, Bishop of Cam-
bray, and Abbot Godeschalc 624
To the same, on behalf of the
Bishop of Auxerre... ... 625
To the same, about Count
Ralph and his wife ... 626
To the same, on behalf of
Count Theobald
His last letter to the same, in
self-defence. . .
To three Bishops of the Curia,
and to Gerard the Chancellor 630
To Louis, King of France ... 634
To the same ... . 635.
To Joscelyn, Bishop of Sois-
sons, and Suger, Abbot of
S. Denys .
LETTERS OF S. BERNARD, ABBOT.
101
CCXXIII.
CCXXIV.
ccxxv.
CCXXVI.
CCXXVII.
CCXXVIII.
CCXXIX. 1143.
ccxxx.
1143-
CCXXXI.
1143-
CCXXXII.
1143-
CCXXXIII.
CCXXXIV.
"43-
"43-
ccxxxv.
"43-
CCXXXVI.
"43-
CCXXXVII.
1 145.
CCXXXVII I.
CCXXXIX.
"45-
To the Bishop of Soissons . . .
To Stephen, Bishop of Prae-
neste
To the Bishop of Soissons . . .
To Louis, King of France
To the Bishop of Soissons . . .
To Peter, Abbot of Cluny,
complaining that he did not
write to him ... ... 651
A letter of Peter the Vener
able, Abbot of Cluny, to
Abbot Bernard ... ... 654
To three Bishops : of Ostia,
Tusculum, and Praeneste . . . 682
To the same, on behalf of the
Abbot of Lagny 683
To the same, against the Abbot
of S. Theofred 686
To John, Abbot of Buzay ... 687
To Herbert, Abbot of S.
Stephen of Dijon ... ... 689
To Pope Celestine, about the
contested election at York. . . 690
To the whole Roman Curia, on
the same subject ... ... 693
To the same, when the Abbot
of S. Anastasius was elected
Pope Eugenius ... ... 695
First letter to Pope Eugenius 698
To the same, about the con
tested election at York ... 703
To the same, on the same
subject ... ... ... 705
To Hildefonsus, Count of S.
Eloy, on the subject of the
heretic, Henry ... ... 707
102
LIST AM) ORDER OF THE
DATE.
CCXLII. 1147.
CCXLIII. 1146.
CCXLIV.
CCXLV.
CCXLVI.
CCXLVII.
CCXLVI 1 1.
CCXLIX.
CCL.
CCLI.
CCLII.
CCLIII.
CCLIV.
CCLV.
CCLVI.
CCLVII.
CCLVIII.
CCLIX.
CCLX.
CCLXI.
CCLXII.
CCLXIII.
7 I2
717
PAGE
To the people of Toulouse,
after his return ... ... 710
To the Romans, when they
revolted against Pope
Eugenius
To Conrad, King of the
Romans
To Pope Eugenius, on behalf
of the Bishop of Orleans ... 719
To the same, on behalf of the
same Bishop when deposed 721
To the same, on behalf of the
Archbishop of Rheims
To the same ...
To the same ...
To Bernard, Prior of Portae ...
To Pope Eugenius
To the same, about the con
tested election at York
To the Abbot of Premontre ...
To Warren, Abbot of the
Abbey in the Alps
To Louis, King of France
To Pope Eugenius
To the same, on behalf of
brother Philip
To the same, on behalf of
brother Rualene
To the same, on behalf of the
same...
To Abbot Rualene
To Pope Innocent, on behalf
of the Abbot of S. Urban ...
To the same, on behalf of the
monks of S. Mary sur Meuse 757
To the Bishop of Soissons, on
behalf of the Abbot of Chezy 758
723
727
729
729
732
733
735
752
754
755
756
757
LETTERS OF S. BERNARD, ABBOT.
103
DATE.
CCLXIV. 1149.
CCLXV. 1149.
CCLXVI. 1151.
CCLXVII. 1151.
CCLXVIII. 1151.
CCLXIX. 1151.
CCLXX. 1151.
CCLXXI. 1151.
CCLXXII. 1152.
CCLXXIII. 1150.
CCLXXIV. 1151.
CCLXXV. 1151.
CCLXXVI. 1151.
CCLXXVII. 1146.
CCLXXVIII. 1150.
CCLXXIX. 1152.
CCLXXX. 1152.
CCLXXXI. 1152.
CCLXXXII. 1152.
CCLXXXIII. 1150.
.PAGE
Letter of Abbot Peter, of
Cluny, to Abbot Bernard... 759
To Peter of Cluny, reply of
Bernard
To Suger, Abbot of S. Denys
To the Abbot of Cluny
To Pope Eugenius
To the same ...
To the same, on behalf of the
Carthusians... ... ... 765
To Theobald, Count of Cham
pagne ... ... 768
To the Bishop of Laon ... 770
Epistle of Pope Eugenius to the
Cistercian Chapter, prefixed
to Letter 273 ... ... 770
To Pope Eugenius ... ... 773
To Huo, Abbot of Trois
O *
Fontaines, when he was at
Rome ... ... 775
To Pope Eugenius, to support
the election at Auxerre ... 776
To the same, to reverse the
will of the Bishop of Auxerre 777
To the same, on behalf of the
Abbot of Cluny 779
To the same, on behalf of the
Bishop of Beauvais ... 780
To Count Henry ... ... 7^ 2
To Pope Eugenius, on the
trouble at Auxerre... ... 782
To Abbot Bruno, of Charavalle 786
To Louis, King of France, on
behalf of the Bishop-elect of
Auxerre ... ... ... 787
To Pope Eugenius, on behalf
of the monks of Moiremont 788
104
LIST AND ORDER OF THE
DATE. PAGE
CCLXXXIV. 1151. To the same, on behalf of the
Archbishop of Rheims and
others ... ... ... 790
CCLXXXV. 1153. To the same, on behalf of Odo,
Abbot of S. Denys... ... 791
CCLXXXVI. 1153. To the same, on behalf of the
same ... ... ... 793
CCLXXXVII. 1153. To the Bishop of Ostia, on
behalf of the same Abbot ... 794
CCLXXXVIII. 1153. To his uncle Andrew, a Knight
of the Temple ... ... 794
CCLXXX1X. 1153. To the Queen of Jerusalem ... 797
CCXC. 1152. To the Bishop of Ostia, about
Cardinal Jordan ... ... 799
CCXCI. 1152. To Pope Eugenius, on behalf
of the church of S. Eugendus,
in the Jura ... ... ... 800
CCXCII. 1152. To a certain secular who endea
voured to dissuade Peter, his
relative, from takingthe vows 801
CCXCIII. 1150. To Peter, Abbot of Moustier-
la-Celle, on behalf of a monk
of Chezy, who had passed
over to Clairvaux ... ... 802
CCXCIV. 1150. To Pope Eugenius, on behalf
of the Bishop of Le Mans... 803
CCXCV. 1150. To Cardinal Henry, on behalf
of the same Bishop ... 804
CCXCVI. 1150. To the Bishop of Ostia, on
behalf of the same Bishop... 804
CCXCVII. 1150. To the Abbot of Montier-
Ramey, on behalf of a run
away monk... ... ... 805
CCXCVIII. 1151. To Pope Eugenius, about his
secretary, Nicolas ... ... 805
CCXCIX. 1150. To the Count of Angouleme, on
behalf of the monks at Boissy 807
LETTERS OF S. BERNARD, ABBOT.
105
DATE. PAGE
CCC. 1152. To the Countess of Blois ... 807
CCCI. 1149. To Sanchia, sister of the Em
peror of Spain ... ... Hog
CCCII. 1149- To the Legates of the HolySee,
on behalf of the Archbishop
of Mayence.. . ... . .. 811
CCCIII. 1 149. To Louis the Younger, King of
France ... ... ... 812
CCCIV. 1153- To the same ... ... ...813
CCCV. 1153- To Pope Eugenius ... ... 814
CCCVI. 1151. To the Bishop of Ostia, respect
ing the election of Thorold,
Abbot of Trois Fontaines ... 815
CCCVII. 1153. To the same ... ... ... 820
CCCVIII. 1153. To Alfonso, King of Portugal 823
CCCIX. 1153. To Pope Eugenius ... ... 824
CCCX. 1153. To Arnold of Chartres, Abbot
of Bonneval.. . ... 825
CCCXI. 1125. To Haimeric, Chancellor of the
Roman Curia ... ... 827
CCCXII. 1130. To Raynald, Archbishop of
Rheims ... ... ... 830
CCCXIII. 1132. To Geoffrey, Abbot of S. Mary
at York ... ... ...831
CCCXIV. 1134. To Pope Innocent ... ... 835
CCCXV. 1134. To Matilda, Queen of England 837
CCCXVI. 1134. To Henry, Archbishop of Sens,
and the Chancellor Haimeric 838
CCCXVII. 1138. To his Prior, Godfrey ... 839
CCCXVIII. 1138. To Pope Innocent 840
CCCXIX. 1138. To Thurstan, Archbishop of
York ... ... ... 840
CCCXX. 1138. To Alexander, Prior of Foun
tains, and his brethren ... 842
CCCXXI. 1138. To Abbot Henry Murdach ...844
CCCXXII. 1138. To Hugo, a novice ... ... 845
CCCXXIII. 1139. To Pope Innocent ... ... 847
io6
LIST AND ORDKR OF THK
CCCXXIV.
CCCXXY.
DATK.
(Circn)
1139-
1139-
CCCXXVI. 1139.
CCCXXVII.
CCCXXVIII.
1 140.
CCCXXIX.
1 140.
cccxxx.
1 140.
CCCXXXI.
1 140.
CCCXXXII.
1 140.
CCCXXXIII.
1 140.
CCCXXXIV.
1140.
cccxxxv.
1 140.
CCCXXXVI.
1 140.
CCCXXXVII.
1 140.
CCCXXXVIII. 1140.
To Robert, Abbot of Dunes . . . 850
To the same, about the novice
Idier .--851
From Abbot W T illiam to Geoff
rey, Bishop of Chartres, and
Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux 851
Reply of Bernard to Abbot
William ... 855
To the Roman Pontiff ... 856
To the Bishop of Limoges . . . 858
To Pope Innocent ... ... 859
To Stephen, Cardinal,
Bishop of Palestrina
To Cardinal G.
To Cardinal G.
To Guy, Abbot of Pisa
To a certain Cardinal Presbyter 865
To a certain Abbot ... ... 866
To Pope Innocent, in the name
of the Bishops of France . . .
To Haimeric, Cardinal and
Chancellor .
and
867
871
CCCXXXIX.
1 140.
To Pope Innocent ... ... 873
CCCXL.
1 140.
To the same ... ... ... 875
CCCXLI.
1 140.
To Malachi, Archbishop of
Ireland ... ... ... 875
CCCXLII.
1 140.
To Joscelyn, Bishop of Soissons 877
CCCXLI 11.
1 140.
From Abbot Bernard of Italy
to Pope Innocent ... ... 879
CCCXLIV.
1 140.
From the same Bernard to
Abbot Bernard of Clairvaux 88 1
CCCXLV.
1 140.
To the brethren of S. Anasta-
sius ... ... 883
(Circa)
CCCXLVI.
II4I.
To Pope Innocent ... ... 885
CCCXLVII.
II4I.
To Pope Innocent ... ... 886
LETTERS OF S. BERNARD, ABBOT.
DATE.
CCCXLVIII. 1141.
CCCXLIX. 1141.
CCCL.
CCCLI.
CCCLII.
CCCLXIV.
CCCLXV.
CCCLXVI.
CCCLXVII.
CCCLXVIII.
CCCLXIX.
CCCLXX.
CCCLXXI.
CCCLXXII.
1141.
1 141
1131.
(Circa)
CCCLIII. 1141.
CCCLIY. 1142.
CCCLV. 1142.
CCCLVI. 1141.
CCCLVII. 1142.
CCCLVIII. 1142.
CCCLIX. 1143.
CCCLX. 1143.
CCCLXI. 1144.
CCCLXII. 1145.
CCCLXIII. 1146.
1 146.
1 146.
1 146.
1147.
1147.
1147.
1147.
1147.
1147.
To Pope Innocent
To Pope Innocent
To Pope Innocent
To Pope Innocent
Privilegium granted by Pope
Innocent II. to S. Bernard
PAGE
, 887
. 889
. 890
. 890
891
To William, Abbot of Rievaulx 893
To Milisendis, Queen of Jeru
salem
To Milisendis, Queen of Jeru
salem ... ... ... 896
To Malachi, Archbishop of
Ireland ... ... ... 897
To Malachi, Archbishop of
Ireland ... ... ... 897
To Pope Celestine ... ... 900
The Brethren of Clairvaux to
Pope Celestine ... ... 900
To William, Abbot of Rievaulx 902
To Theobald, Archbishop of
Canterbury ... ... 903
To Robert Pullen, Cardinal
and Chancellor
To the Clergy and people of
Eastern France
To Peter, Abbot of Cluny . . .
To Henry, Archbishop of
Mayence ...
To the Abbess Hildegarde ...
To the Chancellor G.
To the Cardinal Deacon G. ...
To Abbot Suger
To Abbot Suger
To Abbot Suger
To P., Bishop of Palencia in
Spain ... ... ... 922
904
906
911
913
917
917
919
920
921
I06B LIST AND ORDER OF THE LETTERS OF S. BERNARD.
DATE. PAGE
CCCLXXIII. 1147. The Abbot of Sp. to S.Bernard 925
CCCLXXIV. 1 148. To the Brethren in Ireland, on
the death of B. Bishop
Malachi 926
CCCLXXV. 1148. To Ida, Countess of Nevers... 929
CCCLXXVI. 1149. To Abbot Suger ... ... 930
CCCLXXVII. 1149. To Abbot Suger ...931
CCCLXXVIII. 1149. To Abbot Suger . .. 933
CCCLXXIX. 1149. To Abbot Suger .-934
CCCLXXX. 1149. To Abbot Suger ... ... 934
LETTER I. (Circa 1119.)
To HIS COUSIN ROBERT, WHO HAD WITHDRAWN FROM
THE CISTERCIAN ORDER TO THE CLUNIAC.
He recalls, with wonderful gentleness, and affection more
than fatherly, Robert, his relative ; -who, induced either by
shrinking from a very severe Rule, the attraction of a freer
life, or the blandishments and cunning suggestions of
others, had withdrawn from the Cistercian Order to the
Cluniac.
i. I have waited long enough, my dear son Robert, per
haps too long, [hoping] that the grace of God might deign
to visit both your soul and mine, inspiring you with salutary
contrition and me with joy for your repentance. But since
my hope is so far not fulfilled, I am no longer able to hide
my grief or express my anxiety. Thus, though wounded, I
am obliged to call upon my assailant ; despised, to ask for
the pity of him who contemns me ; though injured, to make
satisfaction to my injurer; and in fine, against all rule, to
beseech him who ought to beseech me. Extreme grief
does not deliberate or observe limits, is not ashamed, does
not fear loss of dignity; it disregards measure, and rule,
and order. The powers of the mind are wholly occupied in
relieving itself, by any means, of what causes it pain, or in
obtaining what it suffers to be without. But you say : I
have not injured nor despised anyone, but rather, being
scorned and injured in many ways, I have fled from my
enemy. Whom have I injured in fleeing from injuries? Is
it not better to withdraw from the persecutor than to resist
him ?- to fly the striker than to strike back ? Truly, I allow
it. Not to contend have I begun to write, but to bring con-
108 LETTKR I.
tention to an end. The pursuer not the fugitive is to be
blamed for a flight from persecution. I pass over what has
been done. I do not ask why or how. I do not discuss
whose is the fault, and I wish to bury all remembrance of
wrongs. Such [discussions] are wont to arouse, not to
soften, differences. I speak only of what is more to my
heart unhappy that I am to be deprived of you, and not
to see you, death for whom would be to me life, and
without whom life is death ! I do not ask why you went
away. I complain only because you have not returned. I
speak not of the causes of your departure, but of the delay
of your return. Return only, and there shall be peace.
Return, and it shall suffice, and I will sing with joy, He was
dead and is alive again ; he was lost and is found!
(S. Luke xv. 32).
2. Surely it was my fault that you departed. I was rigid to
a delicate youth ; I was severe, and treated harshly a sensi
tive mind. When you were here you were wont, as far as
I remember, to murmur against me, and since, as I have
heard, you do not cease to blame me, though absent. It
shall not be laid to your charge. I might, perhaps, allege
that it was my duty to restrain the passions of petulant
youth, and that those harsh beginnings of strict discipline
are needful in early years, as the Scripture bears witness :
Chasten thy son with a rod, and thou shalt deliver his soul
from death (Prov. xxiii. 13) ; and, again, Whom the Lord
loveth lie chasteneth, and scour geth every son whom lie
receiveth (Heb. xii. 6), and that More wholesome are the
wounds of a friend t/ian t/ie kisses of an enemy (Prov.
xxvii. 6). But let it be, as I said, that it was by my fault
you went away ; only let there be no contention about
the offence to hinder the amends for it. I have, perhaps,
sometimes and in some matters acted unwisely towards
you, but never have I been ill-disposed. Therefore, spare
the penitent, or at least have consideration for one who
speaks frankly to you. If you fear for the future you shall
find me not what I was, because I think that you are not
what you were. A changed person yourself, you shall find
LKTTKR I. log
me changed, and him whom you before feared as a master
you may safely embrace as a companion. Therefore,
whether you withdrew by my fault, as you think and I do
not dispute, or by your own, as many think, although I do
not maintain it, or by our common fault, as I incline to
think, if for this reason you demur to return, you alone shall
be without excuse. Would you be free from all blame?
Return. If you acknowledge your fault, I forgive it. Do
you also forgive me where I acknowledge mine, otherwise
either you are too indulgent to yourself, when you are
conscious of your fault and yet will not acknowledge it, or
you are too unmerciful to me, whom you will not forgive
even when I make amends.
3. Now, if you are unwilling to return, seek some other
excuse wherewith to flatter your conscience, for henceforth
there will be no reason lor you to dread the severity of my
rule. You need not fear that I shall be too severe to you
J
when you are here, seeing that I abase myself with my whole
heart to you when absent, and am bound to you by entire
.affection. I practise humility, I promise love, and do you still
fear? You have fled from a stern [ruler] ; return to a gentle
one. Let my lenity recall you, since my severity drove you
away. See, my son, how I wish to recall you not in fear
again and in the spirit of servitude, but in the spirit of filial
adoption, in which you may call and not be disappointed,
Abba, Father . (Rom. viii. 15). Though you have caused me
so great grief I use not threats and terrors, but caresses and
entreaties. Others would, perhaps, employ different means ;
would lay before you your offence, would remind you
of your vow, and awake in you the fear of judgment-
They would reproach you with disobedience, with apostacy
in abandoning a coarse garment for a fine habit, a diet of
vegetables for dainties, and, in fine, poverty for riches. But
I know that you are more easily induced by love than com
pelled by fear, and I have not thought it needful to goad
the unresisting, to terrify the frightened, to confound still
more him who blushes. But would it not seem an unheard-
of thing that a youth, modest, simple, and retiring, should
110 LETTER I.
have dared to violate his vow, to leave the place of his pro
fession against the will of his brethren, the authority of his
master, the obligation of his rule ? Yet it is not more strange
than that the piety of David should have been beguiled
(2 Sam. xi.), the wisdom of Solomon mocked (i Kings xi.),
the strength of Samson rendered vain (Judges xvi.). What
wonder that he who deceived our first parents and expelled
them from Paradise should have seduced an inexperienced
young man in the midst of a desert solitude ! Add to this
that he has not been led away by beauty, as the elders of
Babylon (Hist, of Susan., 8), nor by the love of money, as
Gehazi (2 Kings v. 20), nor by ambitious desires, as Julian
the Apostate, but holiness deceived him, religion seduced
him, the authority of his elders led him astray. Do you ask
how ?
4. A certain great Prior was sent forth by his superiors :
and he, a wolf disguised in sheep s clothing, was admitted
into the sheepfold. He attracts, he allures, he flatters ;
the preacher of a new Gospel, he commends drunkenness,
condemns frugality; voluntary poverty he calls misery;
fasts, vigils, silence, the labour of the hands, he styles
folly ; but, on the contrary, sloth he names contempla
tion ; gluttony, loquacity, inquisitiveness, in short, every
kind of excess, he calls discretion. What, he says, does
God delight in our sufferings? Where does Scripture
bid anyone to slay himself ? W hat sort of religion is
it to dig the earth, to cut wood, to carry manure? Is it
not the declaration of the Truth, / will have mercy and
not sacrifice (S. Matt. ix. 13, Ezek. xxxiii. n, S. Matt.
v. 7). Why has God created food if it is not permitted to
eat it ? or given us bodies if we must not sustain them ?
o
And then, He that is evil to himself, to whom will he be
good (Ecclus. xiv. 5). What wise man ever hated his own
flesh ? (Eph. v. 29).
5. Thus with such pleadings a too credulous youth is
seduced ; he follows his deluder, he is led to Cluny ; he is
shorn, shaven, washed ; in place of his worn, cheap, rustic
clothes he is clad in new, fashionable, and costly ones, and
LETTER I. Ill
thus he is taken into the convent. And with what honour,
triumph, and observance ! He, a youth, is set above his
equals, above his seniors ; the entire brotherhood favours,
compliments, congratulates him ; they all rejoice as victors
when they divide the spoil. O, good Jesus ! how many
things are done for the destruction of one poor soul !
Whose heart, however firm, would not grow soft? whose
inner eye, however spiritual it might be, would not be con
fused ? Among such distractions who could consult his
conscience, who could either recognize truth, or maintain
humility ?
6. Application is made on his account to Rome.
Apostolic authority is approached ; and that the Pope may
not refuse his consent, it is suggested to him that [the youth
when] an infant was offered to that monastery by his parents.
There was no one to contradict this ; judgment was given
upon a mere statement, and against the absent. Those who
did the injury are justified, those who suffered it put off alto
gether, and the offender absolved without making satisfac
tion. Too mild a sentence of absolution is confirmed by a
cruel privilege, which, when reported, encouraged and
rendered secure the ill-assured victim of bad advice. And
among these things a soul may perish for which Christ died,
because the Cluniacs choose ! Profession is made upon
profession, vows which will not be loosed and cannot be
kept, and since the first agreement is made invalid, a
pretext is found for a second, and sin heaped upon sin.
7. May He speedily come who will right wrongs judicially
done and put to shame unlawful oaths, who will right those
that suffer wrong, will judge the poor in justice, and
contend with equity for the meek of the earth ! To Thy
tribunal, O, Lord Jesus, I appeal ; to Thee I commit my
cause, O, Lord God of Sabaoth, who judgest justly, and
triest the reins and the hearts (Jer. xi. 20), whose eyes, as
they cannot deceive, so they cannot be deceived. Thou
seest who seeks the things which are Thine, and who seeks
his own (i Cor. xiii. 5). Thou knowest with what gentle
ness I have succoured him in all his temptations, with what
112 LETTER I.
groanings I have wearied for him the ears of Thy Holiness,
how troubled I used to be by his faults and escapades.
And now I fear that it was in vain. For I think, as far as I
have tried, that it is for the profit neither of the mind or
body of a young man, by himself sufficiently eager and
inexperienced, to apply to the one such stimulants, to the
other such incentives to vanity. Therefore, Lord Jesus, be
Thou my judge ; let my sentence come forth from Thy
presence, let Thine eyes look upon the thing that is equal
(Ps. xvii. 2).
8. Let them see and judge which ought rather to stand
good, the vow of a father respecting his son or that of the
son respecting himself, especially when he has made the
vow even more perfect. Let them see how Thy servant,
our law-giver Benedict, 1 would have decided; whether what
was done respecting a young infant, without his knowledge,
or what he himself afterwards did advisedly of his own
accord, when he was of an age to speak for himself, should
hold good. It is clear that he was promised only, not
given. The petition which the Rule prescribes was not
made on his behalf by the parents, nor his hand with the
petition folded in the covering of the altar, so that he might
be offered before witnesses. A [piece of] ground is shown
which is said to have been given with him and for him.
But if they received him with the ground, why did they not
keep him as well as the ground ? Did they, perhaps,
require more than its fruit, or value the land more than
this soul ? Otherwise, if offered to the monastery, what
was he seeking in the world ? If he were to be brought up
for God, why was he abandoned to the devil ? Why was
Christ s sheep found a prey to the wolf? From the world
you came, Robert, yourself being witness, not from Cluny,
when you came to Citeaux. You requested admission, you
1 According to the Rule of S. Benedict (Cap. lix.) the simple promise of the
parents to devote a child to the Order was not binding. There must have been
a solemn offering of the child, according to prescribed forms, during which he
was clad in the monastic habit.
It does not appear whether there had been any such formal offering of the
young Robert. [E.]
LETTER I. 113
begged, you entreated ; but were put off for two years, on
account of your tender age, though you were most un
willing to wait. Which time being patiently and blame
lessly fulfilled, you begged with many prayers and even (if
you remember) tears, and at length obtained, the wished-for
favour and the entrance [into the Order] which you had so
desired. After this, being patiently proved for a year,
according to the Rule, and your demeanour being resolved
and without reproach, you were professed at your own
\vish ; then first you discarded the secular dress and put
on the religious habit.
9. O, foolish boy ! who has enchanted you that you should
not fulfil the vows of your ow r n lips ? Shall you not be
justified or be condemned out of your own mouth? Why
are you careful about your parent s vow and forgetful of
your own, forgetting that out of your mouth, not of his, you
will be judged? Who can flatter you with talk about an
apostolical absolution, while the Word of God itself holds
your conscience bound ? No one, He says, putting his
hand to the plough, and looking back, is Jit for the kingdom
of God (S. Luke ix. 62). Question your own heart, your
intention ; let your conscience answer you why you fled,
why you deserted your Order, your brethren, your place,
and me; me, who am near you in blood and still nearer in
spirit. If you are now living more severely, more correctly,
more perfectly than before, then you may be confident that
you have not looked back, and glory with the Apostle who
says : Forgetting the things that are behind and pressing
forward unto the things that are before, I press unto
the mark (Philipp. iii. 13). But if it is otherwise, be not
high-minded, but fear ; because whatever indulgence you
give to yourself in food, in unnecessary dress, in idle words,
in unregulated and inquisitive licence, beyond what you
have promised and have observed here, this beyond doubt
is a looking back, a wandering from the path ; in short, an
apostacy. 1
1 A stern declaration indeed against monks who, seeking greater laxity, held
lightly the obligations of their Rule. See Letters 313, 382, and Serm. iii. on Ps. xc.
VOL. I. 8
114 LETTER I.
10. And these things I say to you, my son, not to distress
you, but to warn you, for though you have many teachers
in Christ, you have not many fathers (i Cor. iv. 14). For
(if you should deem it of any value) both by word and by
my example have I begotten you to religion. Does it
please you that another person should glory in you, who
has laboured not at all for you and in you ? Like as to the
harlot before Solomon, so it has happened to me : namely,
to her whose little son had been secretly taken away by
another, who had overlaid and destroyed her own (i Kings
iii. 20).
1 1 . Now for what advantage to you, or for what need of
yours, have our friends endeavoured to do this ? For as for
me, if I had ever offended them in anything (which I am
not conscious of having done), I would at once have made
full amends. But it is strange if I have not sustained the
worse reprisal ; if (that is to say) I have been able to do
them some such injury, as I have now endured from them.
For I protest that they have taken, not the bone of my bones
nor flesh of my flesh, but the very joy of my heart, the fruit of
my spirit, the crown of my hope, and (as I verily feel) the half
of my soul. And why ? Perhaps they pitied you, and not
bearing to see the blind leading the blind, they took you to
their own leading, that you might not perish under mine.
But could not you be saved, unless I were despoiled ? And
would that you maybe saved even without me ! But is your
salvation likely to be more advanced by nicety of dress, and
abundance of dainties, than by frugality of dress and living ?
If soft and warm garments, fine and costly cloths, full
sleeves, an ample hood, a thick and soft coverlet, and fine
linen 1 make a saint, why should not I also follow the
1 Bernard notes here the different kinds of clothing which were in use among
the Cluniacs, and which the Cistercians had rejected as contrary to the Rule. We
may see in the little " Exordium Cisterciense " that they had rejected " frocks,
furred tunics, linen shirts, drawers, cowls ; also mattresses, and bed-clothes."
Also in " The Book of Institutes," c. 15, " hoods lined with wool " are rejected.
We see in the MS. Customs of CLuny, by Bernard of Cluny, c. 30, that among
other things it was permitted to a monk of that monastery to have as articles
of dress "two frocks, two hoods, two shirts, and three furred tunics, "and for the
LETTER I. 115
example ? But these are the comforts of the sick, not the
weapons of combatants. For those who wear soft clothing
are in kings houses (S. Matt. xi. 8). Wine and fine flour,
mead and fat things, fight for the body, not the soul. With
broiled meats the flesh, not the soul, is made fat. Many
brethren in Egypt long served God without using even
fish. 1 Pepper, ginger, cumin, sage, and a thousand
kinds of things pickled, delight indeed the palate, but
inflame the passions. And do you place security in these
things ? or suppose that you can spend your youth safely
thus ? Salt, with hunger, is sufficient condiment to one
who lives soberly and prudently; but if hunger is not
waited for, it becomes needful to excite it with I know not
what potions.
12. But what shall he do, you say, who cannot live other
wise ? I know that you are delicate and would not be able
bed " a pillow, a sheet, a counterpane, a blanket, and a rug." The frocks
differed from the hoods both in form and material, because the hood had only a
narrow cowl, and either no sleeves at all or very narrow ones. The frock, on
the contrary, had very ample sleeves and hood, and it was made of costly cloth,
which was called froccu* or Jl occ us (whence the name fn>c k). Among our
selves the hood is still commonly calledyZoccfw. The Cistercians call it generally
coulle (say cowl), because of their repugnance to frocks. The " coopertorium
silvestre" of which S. Bernard speaks was a kind of outside wrap made of the
skins of animals hunted in the forest. In his Apology, addressed to William,
n. 24, Bernard of Cluny attacks the " cattinum " and "coverings which do not
permit you to remain uncovered, either of lamb s skin or cat s skin, that of hares,
nor in short, of any other kind of higher price." See Life, B. iv. c. 36.
1 It appears by this that the monks of Citeaux used fish only rarely, and
when upon a journey (see Life, B. vii. c. 20), nor eggs, as will be seen from
what follows. We learn the practice with regard to eggs from a Letter of Abbot
Fastred, printed at the end of those of S. Bernard. A novice, in distaste of all
food during his last illness, " felt a desire for a cooked egg," but he observed
abstinence to the end. The same author tells us that " vegetables were cooked
without oil or fat," and Bernard himself speaks of " broths made with flour
.... with oil and honey added," not butter, which he eat " with scruple" to
warm his stomach. In this letter and the following one, which is from Peter
di Roya, we see that the monks of Clairvaux drank a kind of beer, sometimes
pure water, " rarely wine," and even then mixed with much water, which
Humbert used for his infirmities, but only out of obedience (Bernard, Serm. on
Saints, n. 4; Life, B. i. n. 46; Serm. 30 on the Canticles). Joannes Eremita
(Lift of Bernard, B. ii. n. 10) speaks of the vine as being held under malediction
at Clairvaux.
Il6 LETTER I.
to endure a harder life, but that is only because you are
accustomed to these things. But what if you could make
yourself able ? Do you ask how ? Rise, gird yourself, shake
off sloth, use your powers, move your arms, open those
folded hands, do something useful, and you will soon find
that you have appetite for what takes away hunger without
pampering the palate. Many things which, when idle,
you turn from, after labour you will take with relish.
Cabbage, beans, pottage, coarse bread, 1 with water, are little
appetizing, I allow, to an idle person, but they seem great
delicacies to one who has laboured. Having become
unaccustomed to tunics, 2 you are perhaps afraid to take
to wear them again, as being too cold in winter and too
hot in summer ; but have you ever read, He who fears the
hoar frost the snow shall fall upon him ? (Job vi. 16).
Idleness produces distaste, exercise, hunger. You fear
watchings, fastings, and the labour of the hands ; but
these things are trifles to him who meditates on the
everlasting burnings. Then the remembrance of the outer
darkness causes you not to shudder at solitude. If you
remember that every idle word shall be called in question
(S. Matt. xii. 36), silence will not greatly displease you.
That eternal weeping and gnashing of teeth, if brought
before the eyes of the heart, will render hard mat or soft
couch the same thing to you. Finally, if you have faithfully
kept watch the whole time of the night which the Rule
prescribes, with Psalms (Rule of S. Bened., cap. ix. seqq.),
hard indeed will be the couch on which you will not sleep
soundly.
13. Rise, soldier of Christ, shake off the dust, return to
the battle whence you have fled, fight more bravely after
your flight, and you shall conquer the more gloriously. Christ
has indeed many soldiers who have set out bravely, stood
1 The Life (B. ii. n. 6) shows us what kind of bread was used at this time
at Clairvaux. Fastred, in his letter cited above, says that it was made of oats.
- The monks of Citeaux wore their tunics immediately upon the skin, without
any garment of wool or linen between, but not the goats hair cilicium (Life t
B. i. n. 39).
LETTER I. Iiy
fast and overcome, but few, who having turned back from
flight and dared anew the peril which they had evaded, have
put to flight the enemies from whom they had fled. And be
cause every rare thing is precious, I rejoice that you should be
of those who shall appear the more glorious the rarer they
are. But do not think that because you have fled from the
fight, you have escaped from the hands of the enemy. The
adversary overtakes you with more pleasure when flying
than he resists you when combating, and strikes more
boldly at your back than he attacks face to face. Are you
securely taking your morning slumbers, when at that time
Christ rose from the dead; and thus unarmed, at once more
timid yourself and less formidable to enemies ? A multitude
of armed ones have surrounded your house, and you are sleep
ing? Already they ascend the mound, they pull down the
palisade, they rush in at the postern door. Is it safer for
you that they should find you alone than with others
naked in your bed than armed and in the field ? Rise up,
seize your arms, and fly to your fellow soldiers whom you
have deserted. Let fear itself join you again to those from
whom it parted you. Why do you, O, effeminate warrior,
shrink from the weight and hardness of your weapons ? The
adversary pressing on you and the darts flying around will
make the shield, the cuirass, and the helmet seem to be no
burden. Even the bravest soldiers have fears when the
trumpet sounds before the combat, but when they are in the
thick of the fight, the hope of victory and the fear of being
overcome renders them intrepid. But what can you fear
when the unanimity of your brethren and fellow combatants
fortifies you on all sides, when the Angels stand beside you,
when Christ, the leader of the war, will go before you,
cheering His own on to victory, and saying, Be of good
cheer ; I have overcome the -world ! (S. John xvi. 33). If
Christ be for us, who can be against us? (Rom. viii. 31).
You can fight safely when you are sure of victory. Safe,
indeed, is warfare with and for Christ, for, though wounded,
prostrate, trampled on, killed, if possible, a thousand times,
yet, if only you do not fly, you shall not lose the victory.
Il8 LETTER I.
Flight, flight alone can take it from you. Woe to you if, in
declining the fight, you lose at once the victory and the
crown ; which may God avert from you, my dearest son,
since your condemnation will be the greater, if I have
rightly charged you in this my letter. 1
1 This Letter was dictated by Bernard in the open air, " in the midst of rain
without rain," as says William, Abbot of S. Thierry (Life of S. Bernard, B. i.
c. 2), and because of this marvel was placed before the other Letters. The place
where this took place, close to Clairvaux, was marked by a little oratory in
memory of it. It was written by William, afterwards first Abbot of Rievaulx,.
in England, to whom some refer, but wrongly, those praises with which Gilbert
of Holland, in his Sermon 41 (in Cantica), commemorates a certain Abbot of
Rievaulx, without doubt the successor of William, by name Aelred, who died,
according to Pitsaeus, in 1 1 66. For it can hardly be the case that this William of
Rievaulx, who died 1 146, was praised by Gilbert in that sermon, which is in
the form of a funeral oration, as if he were recently dead. Now Gilbert himself
undertook the continuation of his explanation of the Canticles only after the
death of S. Bernard, which happened in 1153, and in Sermon 30 he mentions
the schism excited by the Emperor Frederick against Alexander III. in 1159.
Robert, to whom this Letter was addressed, is called a relative of Bernard in
this Letter, n. 9, and in Letter 32, n. 3. Joannes Eremita, an author of that
time, speaks thus of him in his Life <>f S. Bernard, B. i. c. 2, n. 5 : " He was
nephew of the same matron," namely, Alith, mother of S. Bernard, " of whom
we are going to speak, and son of her sister. It was to him that the blessed
Bernard addressed the first of his Letters. He is said to have lived sixty-seven
years as a monk. Peter ChifHet, a monk of the Society of Jesus, in an appendix
to his dissertation on the illustrious origin of S. Bernard, suggests that the
mother of Robert was Diana, wife of Otho de Chatillon de Montbar, and in that
case Robert would have been called the nephew of S. Bernard, either by the
mere fancy of the person who collected his Letters, or by a mode of speaking once
common, which allowed the children of two brothers or of two sisters, as well as
those of a brother and of a sister, to be called nephew, provided that it was the
younger alone who received that title from his cousin older than himself. And
it is sufficiently clear that this was the relation of Robert to S. Bernard, as well
from this Letter as from B. i. of the Life, c. 2.
As to the date of this Letter, it seems to have been written about 1119. It
would appear that Robert made his solemn profession among the Cistercians in
1113. When the monks of Cluny heard of this they had recourse to an under
hand proceeding to bring him back to them. The Exordium Cisterc. Dis. 3,
c. 9, thus refers to this : In the meantime the Cluniac brothers, hearing that
the young man had given himself to the Cistercian Order, were exceedingly
indignant. ... As they did not presume to demand him publicly, being over
awed by the reputation of the blessed Bernard, they resorted to a more crafty
proceeding. A certain Prior was sent," etc. In the meantime S. Bernard long
concealed his feelings, as he says in the commencement of this Letter, but at
LETTER I. 119
length, not being able to restrain his grief, he wrote this Letter, which did not,
however, bring Robert back, as he complains in Letter 32, until he was sent
back by Peter the Venerable.
That Robert made his profession in 1 1 16 is apparently shown thus : Almost
all writers, both within and without our Order, think that Robert was one of
those thirty friends whom Bernard withdrew from the world and took with him
to Citeaux, which, indeed, Bernard himself seems to indicate in these words of
this Letter: " For (if you should deem it of any value), both by word and my
example, have I begotten you to religion." Then, on account of his extreme
youth, his admission to Citeaux was put off for two years, after which he was
received to make his novitiate, as Bernard asserts also in n. 8, and Bernard
entered Citeaux in 11 (3, to which date, if the two years of waiting and one of
probation be added, we have 1116 as the date of Robert s profession.
This argument is much strengthened by the authority of the Exordium already
cited, where it is said that Robert was admitted to his probation at Citeaux before
Bernard was set over Clairvaux, that is to say, before 1115, in which year
Clairvaux was founded, for the Exordium speaks thus: " Dom Robert,
formerly Abbot of Maison Dieu and a relative of the blessed Bernard according
to the flesh, in his youth had taken upon him the light and easy yoke of the
Lord at Citeaux. But afterwards, when that most reverend man of God,
Bernard, was made Abbot of Clairvaux, he was trained up under him in that
monastery in spiritual discipline. From this it appears that the departure of
Robert from Clairvaux, or rather his being decoyed away, is to be attributed to
the design and the influence of Pontius, Abbot of Cluny from i 109 to 1 122, and
that it was not under the government of Peter the Venerable, who succeeded
Pontius after Hugo II. had been abbot for three months only, as appears from
the Chronicle of Cluny. It is very certain that Peter, who was a great lover of
peace and uprightness, would not have been likely to send a prior to Clairvaux
to draw away a young man, or, even if that be thought possible, the sending
back of Robert would not have been counted among the benefits and offices of
charity which he had done to S. Bernard, for he would not have been able to
confer a benefit in repairing an injustice, for he writes thus in a certain epistle
to Bernard (B. 6, ep. 35): " Why, then, my dear friend, do you not wish to
give me, at least for a month, one of your monks, when I have given up to you,
induced by love towards you, Robert your relation, .Gamier, and certain
others, not for a month, but permanently ? " from which it is to be remarked
in passing, not only that Robert returned to Clairvaux, but that he was sent
back by Peter in the beginning of his abbacy at Cluny. He was sent later on
by Bernard as Abbot to Maison Dieu, in the Diocese of Dijon.
120 LETTER II.
LETTER II. (Circa A.D. 1120.)
To A YOUTH NAMED FULK, WHO AFTERWARDS WAS
ARCHDEACON OF LANGRES.
He gravely -warns Fulk, a Canon Regular, whom an
uncle had by persuasions and promises drawn back to the
world, TO obey God and be faithful to Him rather than to
his uncle.
To the honourable young man Fulk, Brother Bernard, a
sinner, wishes such joy in youth as in old age he will not
regret.
i . I do not wonder at your surprise ; I should wonder if you
were not surprised that I should write to you, a countryman
to a citizen, a monk to a scholastic, 1 there being no apparent
or pressing reason for so doing. But if you recall what is
written / am debtor both to the wise and to the unwise
(Rom. i. 14), and that Charity seeketh not her own (i Cor.
xiii. 5) perhaps you will understand that what it orders is
not mere presumption. For it is Charity which compels me
to reprove you ; to condole with you, though you do not
grieve ; to pity you, though you do not think yourself
pitiable. Nor shall it be unserviceable to you to hear
patiently why you are compassionated. In feeling your pain
you may get rid of its cause, and knowing your misery
begin to cease to be miserable. O, Charity, good mother
who both nourishest the weak, employest the vigorous, and
blamest the restless, using various expedients with various
people, as loving all her sons ! She blames with gentleness,
and with simplicity praises. It is she who is the mother of
men and angels, and makes the peace not only of earth but
of heaven. It is she who, rendering God favourable to
man, has reconciled man to God ; she, my Fulk, makes
those brethren, with w r hom you once shared pleasant
bread, to dwell in one manner of life in a house (Ps.
1 Either a canon holding a prebend of theology or simply a student here
probably the former. But see n. 7. [E.]
LETTER II. 121
Ixviii. 6). Such and so honourable a parent complains of
being injured, of being wounded by you.
2. But in what have I injured, you reply, or wounded her?
In this, without doubt, that you whom she had taken in her
maternal bosom and nourished with her milk, have untimely
withdrawn yourself, and having known the sweetness of the
milk which can train you up for salvation, have rejected
and disdained it so quickly and carelessly. O, most
foolish boy ! boy more in understanding than in age ! who
has fascinated you to depart so quickly from a course so
well begun ? My uncle, you will say. So Adam once
threw the blame of sin upon his wife, and his wife upon the
serpent, to excuse themselves ; yet each received the well-
deserved sentence of their own fault. I am unwilling to
accuse the dean ; I am unwilling that you should excuse
yourself by this means, for you are inexcusable. His fault
does not excuse yours. But what did he do ? Did he use
violence ? Did he take you by force ? Nay, he begged,
not insisted ; attracted you by flatteries, not dragged you
by violence. Who forced you to yield to his flatteries ?
He had not yet given up what was his own. What wonder
that he should reclaim you, who wast his ! If he demands
a lamb from the flock, a calf from the herd, and no one
disputes his right, who can wonder that having lost you,
who are of more value in his sight than many lambs or
calves, he should reclaim you ? Probably he does not aim
at that degree of perfection of which it is said, If any one
has taken away thy goods, seek them not again (S. Luke
vi. 30). But you, who had already rejected the world, what
had you to do with following a man of the world ? The
timid sheep flies when the wolf approaches ; the gentle
dove when she sees the hawk ; the mouse, though hungry,
dares not leave his hole when the cat is prowling around ; and
yet you, when thousawesta thief thou consent edst with him
(Ps. 1. 18). For what else than a thief shall I call him who
has not hesitated to steal that most precious pearl of Christ,
your soul ?
3. I should wish, if it were possible, to pass over his fault,
122 LETTER II.
lest the truth should obtain for me only hatred and no
result. But I am not able, I confess, to pass a man
untouched, who up to this very day is found to have
resisted the Holy Spirit with all his power. For he who
does not hinder evil when he can, even although the evil
purpose may be frustrated, is not clear of that purpose.
Assuredly he tried to damp my fervour when it was new,
but, thanks to God, he did not succeed. Another nephew
of his, Guarike, your kinsman, he much opposed, but what
harm did he do? On the contrary, he was of service. For
the old man at length unwillingly desisted from persecution,
and as the youth, his nephew, remained unsubdued, he was
the more meritorious for his temptation. But, alas ! how
was he able to overcome you, who was not able to overcome
him ? Was he stronger or more prudent than you ?
Assuredly those who knew both before preferred Fulk to
Guarike. But the event of the combat showed that men s
judgment had erred.
4. But what shall I say concerning the malice of an uncle
who withdraws his own nephews from the Christian warfare
to drag them with himself to perdition ? Is it thus he is
accustomed to benefit his friends ? Those whom Christ
calls to abide with Him for ever this uncle calls back to burn
with him for evermore. I wonder if Christ is not reproving
him when he says, How often would I have gathered thy
nephews as a hen gathers her chickens under her wings and
thou wouldest not ? Behold thy house is left unto thee
desolate (S. Matt, xxiii. 37). Christ says, Suffer the little
children to come unto Me, for of such is the kingdom of
heaven (S. Matt. xix. 14). This uncle says, Suffer my
nephews to burn with me. Christ says, They are Mine;
they ought to serve Me. But their uncle says, They ought
to perish with me. Christ says, They are mine, I have
redeemed them. But I, says the uncle, have brought them
up. You, indeed, says Christ, have fed them, but with My
bread, not thine ; while I have redeemed them not with
thy blood, but Mine own. Thus the uncle, according to the
flesh, struggles against the Father of spirits for his nephews.
LETTER II. 123
whom he disinherits of heavenly possessions while he
desires to load them with earthly. Yet Christ, not con
sidering it robbery to draw to Himself those whom He has
made and redeemed with His own blood, has done when
they came to Him, what He had before promised, Him who
cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out (S. John vi. 37).
He opened gladly to Fulk, the first who knocked, and made
him glad also. What more ? he put off the old man and
put on the new, and showed forth in his character and life the
canonical function which had existed in name alone. The
report of it flies abroad, to Christ, a sweet savour ; and
the novelty of the thing diffused on all sides brought it to
the ears of his uncle.
5. What then did the carnal guardian, who lost the carnal
solace of the flesh which he had brought up and loved after
a carnal fashion ? Although to others the event was a
savour of life unto life (2 Cor. ii. 16), not so to him.
Wherefore ? Because the carnal man receiveth not the
things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto
him (i Cor. ii. 14). For if he had the spirit of Christ he
would not so greatly lament on account of the flesh that which
he rejoiced over on account of the spirit. But because he
relishes earthly things, not those which are above, he is sad
and troubled, and reflects thus within himself : What do I
hear? Woe is me ! from what hope have I fallen ! Ought he
to do anything without my advice and permission ? What
right, what law, what justice, what reason is it, that him,
whom I have nourished up from infancy, another person
should have the good of when grown up ? Now that my
head is white, alas ! I shall spend the remainder of my life
in grief, because the staff of my old age has deserted me.
Woe is me ! if this night my soul is required of me, whose
shall those things be which I have prepared ? My store
houses are full, disgorging this one into that, my sheep
fruitful, abounding in their goings forth ; my oxen fat, and
for whom shall these remain ? My lands, my meadows,
my houses, my vases of gold and of silver, for whom have
they been amassed ? Certain of the richer and more
124 LETTER II.
profitable honours of my Church I had acquired for myself ;
the rest, although I could not have them, I hoped that Fulk
should. What then shall I do ? Because of him shall I
lose so much ? For whatever I possess, without him, I
reckon as lost. Rather than that I will both retain them,
and recall him if I can. What is done cannot be undone ;
what is heard cannot be concealed. Fulk is a Canon Regular,
and if he returns to the world will be remarked and dis
graced. But it is better to hear that about him than to live
without him. Let integrity yield to convenience, shame to
necessity. I prefer not to spare the ingenuousness of a
youth, rather than to undergo miserable melancholy.
6. Adopting then this counsel of the flesh, forgetful of
reason and law, as it were a lion prepared for prey, and as a
lioness robbed of her whelp, raging and roaring, not
respecting holy things, he burst into the dwelling of the
saints, in which Christ had hidden his young soldier from
the strife of tongues, who was one day to be adjoined to the
company of Angels. He demands that his nephew be
restored to him ; he loudly complains that by him he had
been wrongly deserted ; while Christ resists, saying, Un
happy man, what are you doing? Why do you rob?
Why persecute Me ? Is it not enough that you have taken
away your own soul from Me, and the souls of many others
by your example, but you must tear him also from My
hand with impious daring ? Do you not fear the
coming judgment, or do you despise My terrors ?
Upon whom do you wage war ? Upon the terrible One,
who takes away the spirit of princes (Ps. Ixxvi. 12). Mad
man, return to thyself. Remember thy last end and sin
not, call to mind with salutary fear what you are.
And thou, O youth, He says, if thou dost assent and
agree to his wishes thou shalt die the death. 1 Remem
ber that Lot s wife was, indeed, delivered from Sodom
1 Bernard usually shows himself very doubtful of the salvation of those who,
having been called by God to the religious state, had not yielded to their voca
tion, and much more of those who, having entered it, though not made profes
sion, had returned to the world. See Letters 107 and 108. But Fulk had
actually made profession.
LETTER II. 125
because she believed God, but was transformed in the
way because she looked back (Gen. xix. 26). Learn in
the Gospel that he who has once put his hand to the plough
to him it is not permitted to look back (Luke ix. 62). Your
uncle, who has already lost his own soul, seeks yours. The
words of his mouth are iniquity and guile. Do not learn,,
my son, to do evil (Ps. xxxvi. 4). Do not turn aside to
vanities and falsehoods (Ps. xl. 4). Behold in the way in
which you walk he hides snares he has stretched nets..
His discourses are smooth as butter, and yet they are sharp
spears (Ps. Iv. 21). See, my son, that you are not taken
with lying lips and a deceitful tongue. Let divine fear
transfix your flesh, that the desire of the flesh may not
deceive you. It flatters, but under its tongue is suffering
and sorrow ; it weeps, but betrays ; it betrays to catch the
poor when it has attracted him (Ps. x. 9). Beware, I say,
My son, that you do not confer with flesh and blood (Gal. i.
1 6), for My sword shall devour flesh (Deut. xxxii. 42).
Despise entreaties and promises. He promises great things,
but I greater ; he offers more, but I most of all. Will you
throw away heavenly things for earthly, eternal for temporal ?
Otherwise it behoves you to dissolve the vows which your
lips have pronounced. He is rightly required to dissolve
who was not forced to vow, for, although I did not repulse
you when you knocked, I did not oblige you to enter.
You cannot, therefore, put aside what you promised of
your own accord. Behold each of you I warn, and
to each give salutary counsel. Do not you, He says
to the uncle, draw back a regular to the world, for in so
doing you make him to apostatize. Do not you, a regular,,
follow the secular life, for in so doing you persecute
Me. If you seduce a soul for which I died you make your
self an enemy of My cross. He who does not gather with
Me scatters (S. Matt. xii. 30). How much more he who>
scatters what has been gathered ? And you, if you consent
to him you dissent from Me, for he who is not with Me is-
against Me (ibid.}. How much more is he who was with
Me against Me if he deserts ? You, if you lead astray a boy
who has come to Me, shall be adjudged a seducer and pro-
126 LETTER II.
faner, but you, if you destroy what you had built, shall make
yourself a deceiver. Both of you must stand at My tribunal
and by Me be judged the one for his prevarication, the
other for the leading astray ; and if the one shall die in his
iniquity his blood shall be required at the hand of his
seducer (Ezek. iii. 18). These and similar warnings Thou,
Christ, didst invisibly thunder to each, I appeal to their
conscience as witness. Thou didst knock at the doors of
the mind of each with kindly terrors. Who would not fear
them and recover wisdom in fearing, unless it were one
like the deaf adder, that stoppeth her ear and refuseth to
hear the -voice of the charmer, charm he never so -wisely
(Ps. Iviii. 4, 5), who either does not hear, or pretends that
he hears not ?
7. But how far do I draw out this letter, already
too long, before speaking of a thing that is worthy
only of silence ? In what circuitous paths do I ap
proach the truth, fearing to draw the veil from shame !
1 say with shame. That what is known to many I
cannot conceal if I would. But why with shame ? Why
should I be ashamed to write what it did not shame them
to do ? If they are ashamed to hear what they shame
lessly did, let them not be ashamed to amend what they were
reluctant to hear. Alas ! neither fear nor reason could keep
back the one from seduction, nor shame or his profession
the other from prevarication. What more ? A deceitful
tongue fits hasty words ; it conceiveth sorrow, and brings
forth iniquity. Your Church received its scholar, whom it
had better have been without. So formerly Lyons recovered,
without credit, by the zeal and pertinacity of its dean, its
canon whom it had well lost, the nephew of the same dean.
Just as the one snatched Fulk from S. Augustine, so the
other Othbert from S. Benedict. How much more beautiful
that a religious youth should draw to himself a worldly old
man, and so each should be victorious, than that the worldly
should draw back to himself the religious, in which each is
vanquished ! Oh, unhappy old man ! Oh, cruel uncle ! who,
already decrepit and soon about to die, before dying have
slain the soul of your nephew, whom you have deprived of
LETTER II. 127
the inheritance of Christ in order that you might have an
heir of your sins. But he who is evil to himself, to whom
is he good ? He preferred to have a successor in his riches
rather than an intercessor for his iniquities.
8. But what have I to do with Deans, who are our in
structors, and have acquired authority in the Churches. They
hold the key of knowledge, and take the highest seats in the
synagogues. They judge their subjects at their will, they re
call fugitives, and when they are recalled scatter them again
as they choose. What have I to do with that ? I confess
that because of you, my Fulk, I have exceeded somewhat the
degree proper to my humility in speaking of these, since I
wished to be indulgent to your fault, and make your shame
little in comparison. I pass over these that they may not
have ground to rail, not at the blame, but at him who blames,
for they would rather find fault with my presumption than
occupy themselves with their own correction. At all events
it is not a prince of the Church that I have undertaken to
reprimand, but a young student, gentle and obedient.
Unless, perhaps, you show yourself to be a child in sense,
not in malice, and object to my boldness, saying, What has
he to do with me ? W r hat do the faults which I commit
matter to him ? Am I a monk ? And to this I confess I
have nothing to answer, except that I counted, in addressing
myself to you, on the sweetness of character with which
you are endowed by nature, and that I was actuated by the
love of God, to which I appealed in the first words of my
letter. It was in zeal for Him that, pitying your error and
your unhappiness, I was moved to interfere beyond my
custom in order to save you, although you were not mine. 1
Your serious fall and miserable case has moved me thus to
presume. For whom of your contemporaries have you seen
me reprimand ? To whom have I ever addressed even the
briefest letter ? Not that I regarded them as saints, nor
had nothing to blame in them.
9. Why, then, you will say, do you blame me especially,
when in others you see what you might, perhaps, more
1 i.e., not owing me obedience as a monk.
128 LETTER II.
justly find fault with ? To which I reply: Because of the
excessiveness of your error, of the enormity of your fault,
for although many others live loosely, without rule and dis
cipline, yet they have not yet professed obedience to these.
They are sinners indeed, but not apostates. But you, how
ever honourably and quietly you may live, although you
may conduct yourself chastely, soberly, and religiously, yet
your piety is not acceptable to God, because it is rendered
valueless by the violation of your vow. Therefore, beloved,
do not compare yourself with your contemporaries, from
whom the profession which you have made separates you,
nor flatter yourself so much because of your self-restraint
in comparison with men of the world, since the Lord says
to you, / would thou wert hot or cold (Apoc. iii. 15, 16).
Here is plainly shown that you please God less, being luke
warm, than if you were even such as those are, entirely cold
towards Him. For them God waits patiently until their
cold shall pass into heat, but you He sees with displeasure
to have fallen away to lukewarmness, after having been
fervent in warmth. And because I have found thee luke
warm, He says, / will vomit thee from My mouth (ibid.},
and deservedly, because you have returned to your vomit
and rejected His grace !
10. Alas! how have you so soon grown weary of the
Saviour, of whom it is written, Honey and milk are under
His tongue (Cantic. iv. u). I wonder that nourishment so
sweet should be distasteful to you, if you have tasted how
sweet the Lord is. Or perhaps you have not yet tasted and
do not know how sweet is Christ, so that you do not desire
what you have not tried; or if you have, then your taste is
surely depraved. He is the Wisdom of God who says : He
who eats of Me shall always hunger, and he who drinks of
Me shall never cease to desire to drink again (Ecclus. xxiv.
29). But how can he hunger or thirst for Christ who is full
of the husks of wine? You cannot drink of the cup of
Christ and of the cup of demons (i Cor. x. 21). The cup of
demons is pride, detraction, envy, debauch, and drunkenness,
with which when your mind and body are saturated, Christ
LETTER II.
129
will find in you no place. Do not wonder at what I say. In
the house of your uncle you are not able to drink deep of the
fulness of the house of God. Why, you say ? Because it is a
house of [carnal] delights. Now, as fire and water cannot be
together, so the delights of the spirit and those of the flesh
are incompatible. Christ will not deign to pour His wine,
which is more sweet than honey and the honeycomb, into
the soul of him whom He finds among his cups breathing
forth the fumes of wine. Where there is delicate variety of
food, where the richness and splendour of the service of the
table delights equally the eyes and the stomach, the food of
heaven is wanting to the soul. Rejoice, O, young man, in
thy youth ! but then, when temporal joy departs in time to
come, everlasting sorrow will possess thee ! May God pre
serve you, His child, from this. May He rather destroy the
deceiving and perfidious lips of those who give you such
advice, who say to you every day, Good, good ! and who
seek your soul ! They are those with whom you are dwell
ing, and who corrupt the good manners of a young man by
their evil communications (colloquia : otherwise counsels,
consilia}.
ii. But now how long before you will come out from
their midst ? What do you in the town who had chosen the
cloister, or what have you to do with the world which you
had renounced ? The lines have fallen to you in pleasant
places, and do you sigh after earthly riches ? If you wish
to have both together, it will be said to you soon, Remember,
my son, that you have received your good things when you
were in life (S. Luke xvi. 25). You have received, He said,
not you have seized ; so that you may not shelter yourself
under the vain excuse, that you are content with what is
your own, and do not seize what belongs to another. And,
after all, what are those goods which you call yours ? The
benefices of the Church ? Certainly ; you do well in
rising to keep vigil, in going to Mass, in assisting at the
day and night offices, so you do not take the prsebend
of the Church without return. It is just that he who
serves the Altar should live from the Altar. It is granted
VOL. I. 9
130 LETTER II.
therefore to you that if you serve well at the Altar you
should live from it, but not that you should live in luxury
and splendour at its expense, that you should take its
revenues to provide yourself with gilded reins, ornamented
saddles, silver spurs, furs of all kinds, and purple ornaments
to cover your hands and adorn your neck. Whatsoever
you take from the Altar, in short, beyond necessary food
and simple dress, is not yours, and it is rapine and even
sacrilege. The Wise man prayed for necessary sustenance,
not for things superfluous (Prov. xxx. 8). The Apostle says,
having food and clothing (i Tim. vi. 8), not food and mag
nificent dress. And a certain other saint says, if the Lord
shall give me bread to eat and raiment to cover me (Gen.
xxviii. 20). Take notice, to cover me. So then let us too
be content with raiment to cover us, not with luxurious and
costly clothing which is worn to please women, and makes
the wearers like them. But you say: Those with whom I
associate do this ; if I do not do as others, I shall be re
marked for singularity. Wherefore I say, go forth from the
midst of them; that you may not either live with singularity
in the eyes of the town or perish by the example of others.
12. What do you do in the town at all, O effeminate
soldier? Your fellow soldiers whom you have deserted by
flight are fighting and overcoming; they knock and they
enter in, they seize heaven and reign while you scour the
streets and squares, sitting upon your ambling courser,
and clad in purple and fine linen. These are the orna
ments of peace, not the weapons of war. Or do you say,
Peace, and there is no peace (Ezekiel xiii. 10). The
purple tunic does not put to flight lust, and pride, and
avarice, nor does it protect against other fiery darts of
the enemy. Lastly, it does not ward off from you the
fever which you more fear, nor secure you from death.
Where are your warlike weapons, the shield of faith,
the helmet of salvation, the breast-plate of patience? Why
do you tremble ? there are more with us than with our
enemies. Take your arms, recover your strength while yet
the combat lasts; Angels are spectators and helpers, the
LETTER II. 131
Lord himself is your aid and your support, who will teach
your hands to war and your ringers to light (Psalm cxliv. i).
Let us come to the help of our brothers, lest if they fight
without us they vanquish without us, and without us enter
into heaven; lest, last of all, when the door has been shut it
be replied from within to us knocking too late, Verily I
say unto you, I know you not (S. Matthew xxv. 12). Make
yourself known then and seen beforehand, lest you be
unknown for glory and known only for punishment. If
Christ recognizes you in the strife, He will recognize you in
heaven, and as He has promised, will manifest Himself to you
(S. John xiv. 21). If only you by repenting and returning
will show yourself such as to be able to say with confidence
Then shall I know even as also I am known (i Corinthians
xiii. 12). In the meantime I have by these admonitions
knocked sufficiently at the heart of a young man modest
and docile ; and nothing remains for me now than to knock
by my prayers also, for him, at the door of the Divine
Mercy, that the Lord may finish my work if my remon
strances have found his heart ever so little softened, so
that I may speedily rejoice over him with great joy.
LETTER III. (Circa 1120.)
To THE CANONS REGULAR OK HoRRicouRT. 1
Their praises inspire him with more fear than satis
faction. They ought not to put any obstacle in the way of
the religious profession of certain regular canons of S.
Augustine, whom he has received at Clairvaux.
To the Superior of the holy body of clerics and servants
of God who are in the place which is called Horricourt, and
to their disciples: the little flock of the brothers of Clairvaux,
and their very humble servant, Brother Bernard, wish health,
and power to walk in the Spirit, and to see all things in a
spiritual manner.
1 The title of this letter follows a MS. at Corbty. It does not appear who
these regular canons were.
132 LETTER III.
Your letter, in which you have addressed to us an ex
hortation so salutary and profitable, brings us convincing-
proof of your knowledge and charity, which we admire, and
for which we thank you. But that which you have so
kindly prefixed by way of praise of me is, I fear, not
founded on experience, although you have thus given me an
excellent occasion to practise humility if I know how to
profit by it. Yet it has excited great fear in me, who know
myself to be far below what you imagine. For which of us
who takes heed to his ways can listen without either great
fear or great danger, to praises of himself so great and so
undeserved ? It is not safe for any one to commit himself to
his own judgment or even to the judgment of another ; for
He ivho judgeth us is the Lord (i Corinthians iv. 4). As
to the brothers concerning whose safety we recognize that
your charity has been solicitous, that we should return them
to you unharmed ; know that by the advice and persuasion
of many illustrious persons, and chiefly of that very distin
guished man William, Bishop of Chalons, 1 they have taken
refuge with us, and have begged us with earnest supplica
tion to receive them, which we have done. Though they
have quitted the rule of S. Augustine for that of S. Bene
dict in order to embrace a stricter life, yet they do not de
part from the rule of Him, who is the one Master in heaven
1 This was William of Champeaux, a friend of S. Bernard, who died in 1121.
He had given up teaching before he was a Bishop in order to withdraw into the
Monastery of S. Victor, near Paris. Hildebert, then Bishop of Mans, congratu
lates him on this in a Letter which has been printed without a title, but which in
the MS. of S. Taurinus of Evreux is inscribed to William of Champeaux. In
the Chronicle of Maurigny it is said that " when the Cardinal legate Conon came
in 1 1 20 to that monastery, near Etampes, he had with him as helper the great
William of Chalons, who had presided over schools of the highest rank (that is
of theology), and then, having a zeal for God, shone in the knowledge of the
Divine Scriptures above all the bishops of Gaul. 1 He attained to the see of
Chalons in the year 1113. It was this William who consecrated S. Bernard
abbot, and had such a high regard for him, that when the Saint had fallen into
serious illness he undertook his cure. Robert Hoveden, in the first part of his
Annals, writes thus under the year 1121: " William of Champeaux, Bishop of
Chalons, eight days before his death having put on the monastic habit (that is,
when taken with mortal illness, according to the custom of those times), departed
this life." He was buried at Clairvaux in a chapel which he had built.
LETTER III. 133
and in earth ; nor do they make void that first faith which
they promised among you, and which, indeed, they pro
mised, first of all, in baptism. They being such, therefore, and
having been so received, we are far from thinking that your
sense of right will be injured by our having received them,
or that you ought to take it ill if we retain them ; yet if
they desist from their resolution during the year of proba
tion which the Rule requires, and desire to return to you, be
assured that we shall not detain them against their will. In
any case, most holy brethren, you would be wrong to resist,
by an ill-considered and useless anathema, the spirit of
liberty which is in them ; unless, perchance (which may
God avert !), you study more to promote your own interests
than those of Jesus Christ.
LETTER IV. (Circa 1127.)
To ARNOLD, ABBOT OF MoRiMOND. 1
He recalls Abbot Arnold, who had rashly left his monas
tery and was wandering abroad, to the care of it.
To the Lord Abbot Arnold, Brother Bernard, Abbot of
Clairvaux, desires the spirit of compunction and prudence.
i. First of all I have to inform you that the Abbot of
1 Morimond was the fourth (or, as some writers say, the third) daughter
house of Citeaux. It was in the Diocese of Langres, and was founded in 1115.
The first abbot was this Arnold, a young man of great promise, of a noble
family of Cologne, and brother of Frederick, then Archbishop of Cologne. After he
had been at the head of it for ten years, being molested by his secular neighbours
and harassed by the disobedience of his monks, he deserted the monastery,
taking some monks with him. The four chief of these were Adam (to whom
Letter V. was addressed), Everard, Henry, and Conrad. At this time Stephen,
Abbot of Citeaux, was detained in Flanders by the affairs of the Order; but
Bernard exerted himself to recall the fugitives by letters to Arnold, Adam
(L p. vi.), and also to Bruno, a nobleman of Cologne, who afterwards succeeded
Frederick, to beg him to take steps for their return. But to no purpose, for
Arnold died in Belgium in 1126. After this Bernard wrote again to Adam,
threatening him with excommunication unless he submitted, which he seems
happily to have effected ; and the Cistercian writers commonly suppose this man
to be the Adam who presided over a monastery of the Order and died at length
in the odour of sanctity.
134 LETTER IV.
Citeaux has not yet returned from Flanders, whither he had
gone, passing by this place a little before your messenger
came to us, and because of this he has not yet received the
letter which you charged to be presented to him, and
hitherto is ignorant of the great novelty which you have
presumed to undertake. He would be happy, I consider,
to be ignorant of such deplorable rumours as long as
possible. As for yourself, that you should forbid me to write
to you, and should declare useless the efforts I should have
made to try to dispose you to return, because you say that
your course is irrevocably taken, makes me despair. Per
haps, indeed, I ought not in reason to obey you in this; but
in truth, the grief I feel will not suffer me to keep silence ;
and more, if I knew for certain where I should meet you, I
would rather have come to you, than have sent this letter, to
try if I should have more success in person than my letter
is likely to obtain. Perhaps you smile at my unfounded
confidence, inasmuch as you are conscious of your own
strength of purpose, and hope that no force, no prayers, no
persistence would be able to bend it. But I am not dis
trustful of His power who said: All things are possible
to him that believeth (S. Mark ix. 22). And I do not
hesitate to apply to myself that saying : / can do all
things in Him who strengtheneth me (Philip, iv. 13).
Although I myself am not ignorant of the obstinacy of
your stony heart, yet would that I could now take you
aside to plead with you, whether successfully or not. Then
I would put before you face to face not only in words but
in looks and in countenance what I have in my heart
against you, whether uselessly or not, I cannot tell. Then
I would fall at your feet, I would embrace your knees ;
and falling upon your neck would kiss that head which is
so dear to me, and which has borne many years with me
the gentle yoke of Christ. Weeping, I would beg and
entreat you with all my energy, by Jesus Christ, to spare
His Cross by which He has redeemed those whom you, as
far as in you lies, are destroying ; has collected those whom
you are dispersing. You are destroying, I say, those whom
LETTER IV. 135
you desert, and dispersing those whom you take with you,
for each of whom I fear an equal peril, though of a different
kind. And, lastly, spare also us your friends to whom
you have left nothing but grief and tears, although un
deserved. If it had been permitted to me, I could have
influenced you, perhaps, by the feelings of the heart, though
not by reason ; and the tenderness of a brother would,
perhaps, have softened that iron heart which now refuses
to yield even to the fear of Christ. But, alas ! even this
opportunity you have taken away from us.
2. O, powerful support of our Order! Listen patiently,
I beg, to your friend, though absent, who cannot bear your
entire departure, and who feels with you to the very
marrow your sufferings and dangers. Do you not fear, O,
great support of our Order, that by your fall its entire
ruin will surely and speedily follow ? But I, you say, do
not fall ; I know what I am doing, I have a good con
science. Be it so. I believe you in what you say of
yourself, but what of us, who by your departure must groan
under the heavy weight of scandal, and trembling expect
still heavier perils to come ? Or do you know all that, and
yet pretend not to know ? How do you pretend that you
have not made ruin for yourself when you have drawn ruin
upon many others ? You were not placed in this post to
do what was useful to yourself, but rather that which was
useful to others ; then ought you not to seek not the things
which are your own, but those which are for Jesus Christ?
How, I ask, will you depart in safety, who have taken away
by your departure every kind of security from the flock
committed to you for ever? Who will protect them from
the attacking wolves, who will console them in tribulations,
provide for them in temptations, and resist for them the
roaring lion who seeks whom he may devour ? They will
be exposed, without doubt, to the bites of the wicked, who
devour the flock of Christ as bread. Alas ! what will be
the fate of those new plantations of Christ, which, by your
hands, He had set in divers places, in the spots of horror
and solitude ? Who will dig around, who nourish them,
136 LETTER IV.
surround them by a hedge, and cut back with care the greedy
shoots which exhaust their strength ? Either, when the
\vind of temptations shall blow, these ill rooted ones shall
easily be rooted up, or growing up among thickets of
thorns will be choked by them, as there is none to clear
them away, and thus will bring forth no fruit.
3. This being so, consider what is this good which you
have done, and whether it can be called good, in the midst
of such evil consequences. However worthy the fruits of
penitence that you flatter yourself you will make, will they
not be necessarily choked in the midst of thorns ? Do you
not, in fact, sin, even if you offer rightly, if you do not
rightly divide the victim P 1
Will you say that you rightly divide when you trouble
yourself only about your own soul, and deprive those sons
who were committed to you of a father s care? O, un
happy ones, and to be pitied ; the more that they see them
selves orphaned even while their father lives ! Then,
iarther, ought you not to have doubted whether you were
doing well, even for your own soul, to venture on a step so un
exampled without the advice of your brethren and co-abbots,
without the permission of your father and master ? It must
also raise against you the indignation of many, that you have
led away withyou weak youths and delicate young men. Or, if
they were strong and robust, then they were indispensable to
the house now desolate ; but if (as I have said) weak and
delicate, they will not be fit to endure the fatigues of a
hard and laborious journey. And we cannot believe that
your remaining over them is because you wish still to direct
their souls, since we know that you propose to lay down the
burden of the pastoral charge of them, and henceforth to live
for yourself alone. And, furthermore, it would be unfitting
that without being called you should presumptuously
resume in one place a burden which against rule you have
rashly laid down in another. But you know all these
1 In Gen. iv. 7 the i,xx. reads: oiix iav opQlas Trpoffevtyxys opOHs St fj-fj citXys
^1/j.apres ; if thou didst, offer rigktli/, but didst nut rightly divide, hast thou nut
sinned [E.]
LETTER IV. 137
things, and I do not wish to press upon you superfluous
words ; but, in conclusion, I faithfully promise that if you
ever give me the opportunity of converse with you I will
strive to find for you a means of doing as far as may be
with permission, and therefore in peace of mind, what you
are now attempting lawlessly and with peril. Farewell.
LETTER V. (A.D. 1125.)
TO A MONK ADAM.
Bernard exhorts him not to adhere to Arnold, the
Abbot of Morimond, nor make himself the companion of
his journey , or rather wandering.
1. Your humility, which is well known to me, and the
circumstances of peril in which you stand, oblige me to
address you earnestly and reprehend you in plain words.
O, foolish one ! who has bewitched you to withdraw so
hastily from the salutary rule of life in which you equally
with me (God is witness) were lately agreed ? Consider
your ways, O foolish one, and turn your steps towards the
testimonies of the Lord. Do you not remember that you
first dedicated the first fruits of your conversion at
Marmoutiers j 1 then that you were put under my poor
direction at Foigny, 2 and that you made your final pro
fession at Morimond ? Was it not there again that at my
suggestion you frankly renounced the journeying, or rather
wandering, suggested to you by Abbot Arnold, and you
saw clearly that company with him was forbidden to you
if he himself was not able to go forth lawfully ? What
then ? Can you say that he departs in a lawful manner
who has left a lamentable scandal amongst those committed
to him, not waiting for the licence of his superior ?
2. But to what purpose, you may ask, are all these
details ? That I may show you your manifest inconstancy ;
1 The monastery of Marmoutiers was near Tours. See Letter 397.
- In the Diocese of Laon. See Letter 72.
138 LETTER V.
that I may show you clearly that you say both Yes and No ;
that I may force you to recognize and blush for your errors,
and to learn, though late, from the Apostle that we must
not believe every spirit (i S. John iv. i). Learn from
Solomon to have many friends, but to choose one counsellor
among a thousand (Ecclus. vi. 6) ; learn from the ex
ample of the Forerunner of the Lord not to wear soft
clothing nor to be blown about with every wind of doctrine,
like a reed shaken with the wind (S. Matt. xi. 7, 8) ;
learn from the Gospel to build thy house upon a rock
(S. Matt. vii. 24) ; learn also with the disciples not to
forget the wisdom of the serpent with the simplicity of the
dove (S. Matt. x. 16) ; and both from these as from a
great many other testimonies of Scripture you may get to
understand how greatly that seducer has deceived you,
who, since he was not able to arrest the beginning of good
in you, envied your perseverance, considering without
doubt that it would be sufficient for his malicious purpose
if he could take away from you this one and only virtue
which would assure you the crown. I beg you, therefore,
by the bowels of the mercy of Christ, that you wander
abroad no more, or at least not before you come to speak
with me at a place convenient to us both, and consider
what remedy may be found for the very great evils which
from your departure we either feel have happened or feel
will happen. Farewell.
LETTER VI. (A.D. 1125.)
TO BRUNO OF COLOGNE. 1
Bernard begs him to take means for bringing back
certain wandering monks of Morimond to their monastery ~
To the very dear and most illustrious lord Bruno, Brother
Bernard, called Abbot of Clairvaux, wishes health, and
whatever good the prayers of a sinner can bring.
1 Afterwards Archbishop of Cologne. See Letters 8, 9.
LETTER VI. 139
Since the day when we had the pleasure to become
acquainted at Rheims I trust I have retained some small
share in your remembrance ; and because of this I do not
write to you timidly, as to a stranger, but freely and
confidently, as to a well-known and familiar friend.
1. Arnold, Abbot of Morimond, has lately quitted his
monastery and scandalized our entire Order by his breach
of rule, because he neither waited for the advice of his
brother abbots before carrying out a plan of so doubtful a
nature, nor for the licence or assent of the Abbot of
Clairvaux, under whose authority he was. But being a
man under authority and having soldiers under him, while
he proudly threw off the yoke of his superior, he still more
proudly kept his own yoke upon those subjected to him.
Thus of a great multitude of monks, whom uselessly
traversing sea and land he had gathered together, not for
Christ, but for himself, abandoning a few only, and those
the simpler and least fervent, he has taken the better and
more perfect as sharers of his error. Among whom, three
whose withdrawal has much troubled me, he has dared to
win over and take away with him, namely, Everard our 1
brother, Adam, whom you have known well, and that noble
youth Conrad, whom some time ago, not without scandal,
he carried off from Cologne. Whom, if you would kindly
take the trouble, I feel sure that you would be able to
recover.
2. Concerning Arnold himself, I have long known his
obstinacy and unbending mind, and I do not wish to
trouble you with useless efforts to recall him. But I have
heard that Everard, Adam, and some of the other brethren
of the same company, are now staying in your neighbour
hood. If that is the case, it would be well if you would go
yourself at once to see them, would win them over by
entreaty, convince them by reason, and strengthen in them
the simplicity of the dove with the wisdom of the serpent.
Make them understand that obedience should not hold
them to a man who has not himself been obedient ; that
1 Otherwise, ytmr.
140 LETTER VI.
they cannot lawfully follow a superior who is unlawfully
\vandering abroad ; nor be drawn away to desert the Order
they have professed for the sake of a man who has dis
regarded its Rule ; that the Apostle bids us not to hesitate
to declare anathema even an angel from heaven, who
should preach another gospel ; and that by the same
Apostle they are taught to withdraw themselves from any
brother that ivalketh disorderly (2 Thess. iii. 6). Who
may teach you also to be not high-minded nor trust in
uncertain riches (i Tim. vi. 17), until Christ shall claim for
Himself His true disciple, proved by his renunciation of all
things. Farewell.
LETTER VII. (A.D. 1126.)
To THE MONK ADAM. 1
I. If you remain yet in that spirit of charity which I either
knew or believed to be with you formerly, you would
certainly feel the condemnation with which charity must
regard the scandal which you have given to the weak.
For charity would not offend charity, nor scorn when it
feels itself offended. For it cannot deny itself, nor be
divided against itself. Its function is rather to draw-
together things divided ; and it is far from dividing those
that are joined. Now, if that remained in you, as I have
said, it would not keep silent, it would not rest uncon
cerned, nor pretend indifference, but it would without doubt
whisper with groans and uneasiness at the bottom of your
pious heart that saying, Who is offended, and I burn not
(2 Cor. xi. 29). If, then, it is kind, it loves peace, and
rejoices in unity; it produces them, cements them,
strengthens them, and wherever it reigns it makes the
bond of peace. As, then, you are in opposition to that
true mother of peace and concord, on what ground, I ask
1 The MS. iii the Royal Library is inscribed : De Discretions Oledientice : Of
Discernment in OL-edicnce. This Letter was written affr the death of Abbot
Arnold, which took place in Belgium in the year 1 1 26.
LETTER VII. 141
you, do you presume that your sacrifice, whatever it may
be, will be accepted by God, when without it even
martyrdom profiteth nothing (i Cor. xiii. 3) ? Or, on what
ground do you trust that you are not the enemy of charity
when breaking unity, rending the bond of peace, you
lacerate her bowels, treating with such cruelty their dear
pledges, which you neither have borne nor do bear? You
must lay down, then, the offering, whatever it may be,
which you are preparing to lay on the altar, and hasten to
go and reconcile yourself not with one of your brethren
only, but with the entire body. The whole body of the
fraternity, grievously wounded by your withdrawal, as by
the stroke of a sword, utters its complaints against you and
the few with you, saying : The sons of my mother have
fought against me (Cant. i. 5). And rightly ; for who is not
with her, is against her. Can you think that a mother, as
tender as charity, can hear without emotion the complaint,
so just, of a community which is to her as a daughter?
Therefore, joining her tears with ours, she says, / have
nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled
against me (Isa. i. 2). Charity is God Himself. Christ is
our peace, who hath made both one (Eph. ii. 14). Unity is
the mystery even of the Holy Trinity. What place, then,
in the kingdom of Christ and of God has he who is an
enemy of charity, peace, and unity?
2. My abbot, perhaps you will say, has obliged me to
follow him ought I then to have been disobedient ? But
you cannot have forgotten the conclusion to which we came
one day after a long discussion together upon that scanda
lous project which even then you were meditating. If you
had remained in that conclusion, now it might have been
not unfitly said of you, Blessed is the man who hath not
walked in the counsel of the ungodly (Ps. i. i). But let it
be so. Sons ought, no doubt, to obey a father; scholars a
teacher. An abbot may lead his monks where he shall
please, and teach them what he thinks proper ; but this
is only as long as he lives. Now that he is dead, whom you
were bound to hear as a teacher and to follow as a guide,
142 LETTER VII.
why are you still delaying to make amends for the grave
scandal that you have occasioned ? What hinders you now
to give ear, I do not say to me when I recall you, but to our
God, when He mercifully does so by the mouth of Jeremiah,
Shall they fall and not arise ? Shall he turn away and
not return ? (Jer. viii. 4). Or has your abbot, when dying,
forbidden you ever to rise again after your fall, or ever to
speak of your return ? Is it necessary for you to obey him
even when dead to obey him against charity and at the
peril of your soul ? You would allow, I suppose, that the
bond between an abbot and his monks is by no means
so strong or tenacious as that of married persons, whom
God Himself and not man has bound with an inviolable
sacrament as the Saviour says : What God hath joined
together let no man put asunder (S. Matt. xix. 6). But the
Apostle asserts that when the husband is dead the wife is
freed from the law of her husband (Rom. vii. 2), and do you
consider yourself bound by the law of your dead abbot, and
this against a law which is more binding still, that of
charity?
3. These things I say, yet I do not think that you ought
to have yielded to him in this even when living, or that thus
to have yielded ought to be called obedience. For it is of
that kind of obedience that it is said in general : The Lord
shall lead forth with the workers of iniquity those who
deviate in their obedience (Ps. cxxv. 5, VULG.). And that
no one may contend that obedience to an abbot, even in
things evil, is free from that penalty, there are words else
where still more precise : The son shall not bear the
iniquity of the father, and the father shall not bear the
iniquity of the son (Ezek. xviii. 20). From these, then, it
appears clearly that those who command things evil are not
to be obeyed, especially when in yielding to wrong com
mands, in which you appear to obey man, you show your
self plainly disobedient to God, who has forbidden every
thing that is evil. For it is altogether unreasonable to
profess yourself obedient when you know that you are
violating obedience due to the superior on account of the
LETTER VII. 143
inferior, that is, to the Divine on account of the human.
What then ? God forbids what man orders ; and shall I be
deaf to the voice of God and listen to that of man ? The
Apostles did not understand the matter thus when they
said, We must obey God rather than men (Acts v. 29).
Does not the Lord in the Gospel blame the Pharisees : Ye
transgress the com?nandment of God on account of your
traditions (S. Matt. xv. 3). And by Isaiah: In vain they
worship Me, he says, teaching the commands and doctrines
of men (Is. xxix. 13). And also to our first father. 1
Because thou hast obeyed thy wife rather than Me, the
earth shall be rebellious to thy work (Gen. iii. 17). There
fore to do evil, whosoever it be that bids, is shown not
to be obedience, but disobedience.
4. To make this principle clear, we must note that some
actions are wholly good, others wholly evil : and in these no
obedience is to be rendered to men. For the former are
not to be omitted by us, even if they are prohibited [by
men] : nor the latter done, even though they are commanded.
But, besides these, there are actions between the two, and
which may be good or evil according to circumstances of
place, time, manner, or person, and in these obedience has
its place, as it was in the matter of the tree of the know
ledge of good and evil, which was in the midst of Paradise.
When these are in question, it is not right to prefer our
own judgment to that of our superiors, so as to take no
heed of what they order or forbid. Let us see whether it
be not such a case that I have condemned in you, and
whether you ought not to be condemned. For clearness, I
will subjoin examples of the distinction which I have just
made. Faith, hope, charity, and others of that class are
wholly good ; it cannot be wrong to command, or to practise
them, nor right to forbid them, or to neglect the practice of
them. Theft, sacrilege, adultery, and all other such vices are
wholly evil ; it can never be right to practise or to order them,
nor wrong to forbid or avoid them. The law is not made for
i Protoplastus, the first formed. Tertullian, E.ihurt. ad Castil., cap. 2, an 1
Adv. Jiid., c. 13. calls Adam arU Eve Proloptasti. [E.J
144 LETTER VII.
things of this kind, for the prohibition of no person has
the power to render null the commandments given, nor the
command of any to render lawful the things prohibited.
There are, finally, things of a middle kind which are not in
themselves good or evil ; they may be indifferently either
prescribed or forbidden, and in these things an inferior
never sins in obeying. Such are, for example, fasting,
watching, reading, and such like. But some things which
are of this middle kind often pass the bounds of indiffer-
ency, and become the one or the other. Thus, marriage is
neither prescribed nor forbidden, but when it is made may
not be dissolved. That, therefore, which before the nuptials
was a thing of the middle kind obtains the force of a thing
wholly good in regard to the married pair. Also, it is a
thing indifferent for a man in secular life to possess or not
to possess property of his own ; but to a monk, who is not
allowed to possess anything, it is wholly evil.
5. Do you see now, brother, to which branch of my
division your action belongs ? If it is to be put among
things wholly good it is praiseworthy : if among those
wholly evil it is greatly to be blamed : but if it is to be
placed among those of the middle kind you may, perhaps,
find in your obedience an excuse for your first departure,
but your delay in returning is not at all excusable, since
that was not from obedience. For when your abbot was
dead, if he had previously ordered anything which was not
fitting, the former discussion has shown you that you were
no longer bound to obey him. And although the matter is
now sufficiently clear by itself, yet because of some who
seek for occasion to object when reason does not support
them, I will put the matter clearly again, so that every
shade of doubt may disappear, and I will show you that
your obedience and your leaving your monastery were
neither wholly good nor partly good, but plainly wholly
evil. Concerning him who is dead, I am silent ; he has
now God alone for his judge, and to his own Lord he
either stands or falls; that God may not say with righteous
anger, " Men have taken away from me even the right to
LETTER VII. 145
judge." However, for the instruction of the living I dis
cuss, not even what he has done, but what he has ordered ;
whether, that is to say, his order ought to have been obli
gatory, inasmuch as a widespreading scandal has followed
upon it. And I say this first ; that if there are any who
followed him when he wrongly left his cloister, but who
followed in simplicity, and without suspecting any evil,
supposing that he had license to go forth from the Bishop
of Langres and the Abbot of Citeaux (for to each of these
was he responsible) ; and it is not incredible that some of
those who were of his company may so have believed ; this,
my censure, does not touch them, provided that when they
knew the truth, they returned without delay.
6. Therefore my discourse is against those only, or rather
for those, who knowingly and purposely put their hands into
the fire ; who being conscious of his presumption, yet fol
lowed him who presumed, without caring for the prohibition
of the Apostle, and his precept, to withdraw from every
brother who walks disorderly (2 Thess. iii. 6). Despising also
the voice of the Lord himself, He u<ho gathercth not with
me scattereth (S. Matt. xii. 30). To you, brethren, belongs
clearly and specially that reproach spoken by Jeremiah,
which I recall with grief : This is a nation that obeyeth not
t/ie voice of t lie Lord their God (Jer. vii. 28). For clearly
that is the Voice of God pointing out His enemy from the
work that he does, and, as it were, showing him with a
stretched ringer to ward off simple souls from his ungodly
example : He who is not with Me, He says, scatters ; ought
you to have followed a disperser ? And when God invites
you to unite with Him, ought you rather to follow a man
who wishes to disperse you ? He scorned his superiors, he
exposed his inferiors to danger, he deeply troubled his
brethren, and yet ye seeing a thief joined yourself with him !
I had determined to be silent concerning him who is dead,
but I am obliged, I confess, to proceed still a little further,
since I cannot blame your obedience, if his command is not
shown to be altogether improper. Since the orders and the
actions of the man were similar to each other, it seems
VOL. I. 10
146 LETTER VII.
impossible to praise or to blame the one without the other.
Now it is very clear that orders of that kind ought not to
have been obeyed, since they were contrary to the law of
God. For who can suppose that the institutions of our
Fathers are not to be preferred to those of lesser persons,
or that the general rules of the Order must not prevail over
the commands of private persons ? For we have this in the
Rule of S. Benedict. 1
7. I should be able, indeed, to bring forward the Abbot
of Citeauxasa witness, who, as being superior to your abbot
as a father to a son, as a master to a disciple, and, in a word,
as an abbot to a monk committed to his charge, rightly
complains that you have held him in contempt because of
the other. I might speak also of the Bishop, whose consent
was not waited for, a contempt which was inexcusable,
since the Lord says of such and to such : He who despises
you despises Me (S. Luke x. 16). But as to both these
might be opposed and preferred the authority of the
Roman Pontiff as more weighty : by whose license it is
said that you have taken care to secure yourselves (the
question of that license shall be discussed in its proper
place), [see below, No. 9], I rather bring forward such
an one as you dare not set yourself against. Most
surely He is the Supreme Pontiff, who by His own
blood entered in once and alone into the Holy Place
to obtain eternal redemption (Heb. ix. 12), and de
nounces with a terrible voice, in the Gospel, that none
should dare to give scandal to even the least of His little
ones (S. Matt, xviii. 6). I should say nothing if the evil
had not proceeded farther. An easy forgiveness would
follow a fault which has no grave consequences. But at
present there is no doubt that you have preferred the
commands of a man to that of God, and have thus
scandalized very many. What man of any sense would say
that such an audacious act was good, or could become good,
by the direction of any man, whatever his dignity? And if
it is not good, nor can become good, without doubt it is
1 Reg. Cap. 71.
LETTER VII. 147
wholly evil. Whence it follows that since your withdrawal
was to the scandal of many, and by this contrary to the law
of God, since it is neither wholly good nor even of a middle
kind, it is, therefore, wholly and altogether evil ; because
that which is wholly is always such, and that of a middle
kind can become so.
8. How then can either the permission of your abbot
avail to make that permissible which is (as we have already
shown beyond question) wholly evil, since (as we have said
above) things of this kind, that is things purely evil, can
never be rightly ordered nor permissibly done ? Do you
see how futile is the excuse you draw from obedience to
a man when you are convicted of a transgression against
God ? I hardly suppose that you would resort to that reply
of the Lord respecting the scandal given to the Pharisees,
Let them alone, they be blind leaders of the blind (S. Matt,
xv. 14), and that as He attached no value to their objections,
so you attach no value to ours ; for you know that there is
no comparison in this respect between Him and you. But
if you make comparison of persons, you find that on one
side it is the proud Pharisees who are scandalized, on the
other the poor of Jesus Christ ; and as to the cause of the
scandal, in the one case it is presumption, in the other
truth. Again, as I have shown above, you have not only
preferred a human to a Divine command, but that of a
private person to a public rule, and this alone would suffice
for proof ; but the custom and Rule, not only of our Order,
but of all monasteries, seems to cry out against your
unexampled innovation and unparalleled presumption.
9. You had then just reason to fear, and were rightly dis
trustful of the goodness of your cause when, in order to still
the pangs of your consciences, you tried to have recourse to
the Holy See. O, vain remedy ! which is nothing else than
to seek girdles, like our first parents, for your ulcerated
consciences, that is, to hide the ill instead of curing it. We.
have asked and obtained (they say) the] permission of the
Pope. Would that you had asked not his permission, but
his advice ; that is to say, not that he would permit you to do
LETTER VII.
it, but whether it was a thing permitted to you to do !
Why, then, did you solicit his permission ? Was it to render
lawful that which was not so? Then you wished to do
what was not lawful; but what was not lawful was evil.
The intention, therefore, was evil, which tended towards
evil. Perhaps you would say that the wrong thing which
you demanded permission to do ceased to be such if it was
done by virtue of a permission. But that has been already
excluded above by an irrefragable reason. For when God
said, Do not despise one of these little ones -who believe in
Me, He did not add also, Unless with permission; nor
when He said, Take care not to give scandal to one of these
little ones (S. Matt, xviii. 6-10), did He limit it by adding,
Without licence. It is then certain that except when the
necessary interests of the truth require, it is not permitted
to anyone to give any scandal, neither to order it, nor to
consent to it. Yet you think that permission is to be
obtained to do so. But to what purpose ? Was it that you
might sin with more liberty and fewer scruples, and, there
fore, with just so much the more danger? Wonder
ful precaution, marvellous prudence! They had already
devised evil in their heart, but they were cautious
not to carry it out in action except with permission. They
conceived in sorrow, but they did not bring forth iniquity
until the Pope had afforded his consent to that unrighteous
birth. With what advantage? or, at least, with what
lessening of the evil ? Is it likely that either an evil will
cease to be or even be rendered less because the Pope has
consented to it ? But who will deny it to be a bad thing to
give consent to evil ? Which, notwithstanding, I do not in
any way believe that the Pope would have done, unless he
had been either deceived by falsehood or overcome by
importunity. In fact, unless it had been so, would he
weakly have given you permission to sow scandal, to raise
up schisms, to distress friends, to trouble the peace of
brethren, to throw into confusion their unity, and, above all,
to despise your own Bishop ? And under what necessity he
should have acted thus I have no need to say, since the issue
LETTER VII. 149
of the matter sufficiently shows. For I see with grief that
YOU have gone forth, but I do not see that you have profited
in doing so.
10. Thus, in your opinion, to give assent to so great
and weighty evils is to show obedience, to render assist
ance, to behave with moderation and gentleness. Do you*
then, endeavour to whitewash the most detestable vices
under the name of virtues ? Or do you think that you can
injure virtues without doing injury to the Lord of virtues ?
You hide the vainest presumption, the most shameful
levity, the cruellest division under the names of obedience,
moderation, gentleness, and you soil those sacred names
with the vices hidden under them. May I never emulate
this obedience : such moderation can never be pleasing
to me, or rather seems to resemble molestation ; may
gentleness of this kind ever be far from me. Such
obedience is worse than any revolt : such moderation
passes all bounds. Shall I say that it goes beyond them or
does not come up to them ? Perhaps it would be more
adequate to say that it is altogether without measure or
bound. Of what kind is that gentleness which irritates the
ears of all the hearers ? And yet I beg you to show some
sign of it now on my behalf. Since you are so patient that
you do not contend with anybody, even with one who tries
to drag you away to forbidden ground, permit me, too, I
beg of you, to treat with you now somewhat more un
restrainedly. Otherwise I have merited much evil from
you if you think that you must resent from me alone what
you are accustomed to resent from no one else.
11. Well, then, I call your own conscience to witness.
Was it willingly or unwillingly that you went forth? If
willingly, then it was not from obedience. If unwillingly,
you seem to have had some suspicion of the order which
you carried out with reluctance. But when there is
suspicion, there consideration is necessary. But you,
either to display your patience or to exercise it, obeyed
without discussion, and suffered yourself to be taken away,
not only without your own volition, but even against your
150 LETTER VII.
conscience. O, patience worthy of all impatience ! 1
cannot, I confess, help being angry with this most ques
tionable patience. You saw that he was a scatterer and
yet you followed him ; you heard him directing what was
scandalous and yet you obeyed him ! True patience con
sists in doing or in suffering what is displeasing to us, not
what is forbidden to us. A strange thing ! You listened
to that man softly murmuring, but not to God openly pro
testing in such words as these, like a clap of thunder from
heaven, Woe to him through whom scandal cometh (S. Matt.
xviii. 7). And to be the better heard, not only does the
Lord Himself cry aloud, but His Blood cries with a terrible
voice to make even the deaf hear. Its pouring forth is its
cry. Since it was poured forth for the children of God who
were scattered abroad that it might gather them together
into one, it justly murmurs against the scatterers. He whose
constant duty it is to collect souls together hates without
doubt those who scatter them. Loud is His voice and piercing
which calls bodies from their graves and souls from Hades.
That trumpet blast calls together heaven and earth and the
things that are with them, giving them peace. Its sound
has gone out unto the whole world, and yet it has not been
able to burst through your deafness ! What a voice of
power and magnificence when the words are spoken :
Let the Lord arise and let His enemies be scattered (Ps.
Ixviii. 2). And again: Disperse them by Thy power, O
Lord, my protector, and put them down (Ps. lix. 12). It
is the blood of Christ, brother Adam, which raises its voice
as a sounding trumpet on behalf of pious assemblies
against wicked scatterers ; it has been poured forth to
bring together those who were dispersed, and it threatens
to disperse those who scatter. If you do not hear His
voice, then listen to that which rolls from His side. For
how could He not hear His own blood who heard the blood
of Abel ?
12. But what is this to me? you say. It concerns one
whom it was not right for me to contradict. The disciple
is not above his master ; and it was to be taught, not to
LETTER VII. 151
teach, that I attached myself to him. As a hearer, it
became me to follow, not to go before, my preceptor.
O, simple one, the Paulus of these times ! If only he had
shown himself another Antony, 1 so that you had no occa
sion to discuss the least word that fell from his lips, but
only to obey it without hesitation ! What exemplary
obedience ! The least word, an iota, which drops from the
lips of his superiors finds him obedient ! He does not
examine what is enjoined, he is content because it is
enjoined! 2 And this is obedience without delay. If this
is a right view of duty, then without cause do we read in
the Church : Prove all things, hold fast that which is
good (i Thess. v. 21). If this is a right view, let us blot
out of the book of the Gospel Be ye wise as serpents,
for the words following would suffice, and harmless as
doves (S. Matt. x. 16). I do not say that inferiors are
to make themselves judges of the orders of those set
over them, in which it may be taken for granted that
nothing is ordered contrary to the Divine laws, but I
assert that prudence also is necessary to notice if any
thing does so contradict, and freedom firmly to pronounce
against these. But you reply, I have nothing to do with
examining what he orders; it is his duty to do that before
ordering. Tell me, I pray you, if a sword were put into
your hand and he bade you turn it against his throat, would
you obey ? Or if he ordered you to fling yourself headlong
into the fire, or into the water, would you do it ? If you
did not even hinder him from such acts as these to the best
of your ability, would not you be held guilty of the crime
of homicide ? Come, then, see that you have done nothing
1 Antony, who was called by S. Athanasius " the founder of asceticism," and
" a model for monks," is called " Abbas, 1 though he was more properly a
hermit, and always refused to take oversight of a monastery. He was born at
Coma, in Upper Egypt, about A.D. 250. The Paulus here mentioned was a
disciple of Antony. He was remarkable for his childlike docility, on account
of which he was surnamed Simplex, and notwithstanding a certain dulness
of intellect seems to have shown sometimes remarkable discernment of
character. [E.]
2 This clause is wanting in some MSS.
152 LETTER VII.
but co-operate in his crime under the pretext of obedience.
Do you not know that it has been said by a certain person
(for you would not, perhaps, give credence to me) that it
would be better to be sunk in the depths of the sea than to
give scandals (S. Matt, xviii. 6). Why has He said this
unless that He wished to signify that in comparison to the
terrible punishments that are reserved for the scandalous,
temporal death would seem scarcely a punishment but an
advantage ? Why, then, did you help him to make a
scandal ? For you did so in following and obeying him.
Would it not have been better, according to the declaration
of the Truth I have quoted, to hang a millstone from his
neck and so to plunge him in the depth of the sea ? What
then ? You that were so obedient a disciple, who could not
bear that he, your father and master, should be separated
from you for a single instant, for a foot breadth (as it is
said), you have not hesitated to fall into the ditch behind
him with your eyes wide open, like another Balaam ? Did
you think that you were labouring for his happiness when
you showed toward him an obedience more hurtful for him
than death ? Truly, now, I experience how true is that
saying : A man s foes shall be they of his own household
(Micah vii. 6). If you see and feel this, do you not groan
if you perceive what you have done ? And if you do per
ceive, do you not tremble? For, indeed, your obedience (it
is not my judgment, but that of the Truth Himself) has
been worse for him than death.
13. If you are now convinced of this, I do not know how
you can help trembling and hastening to repair your fault.
Otherwise what conscience of wrong will you carry hence
to that terrible tribunal where the Judge will not need
witness, where the Truth will scan even purposes, and
penetrate in search of faults to the hidden places of the
heart, where, in short, that Divine look will try the most
secret recesses of minds, and at the sudden shining of that
Sun of justice all the windings of human souls will be spread
open and give to the light whatever, whether good or evil,
they were hiding? Then, brother Adam, those who commit
LETTER VII. 153
a sin, and those who consent to it will be punished with equal
chastisement. Then thieves and the associates of thieves
will listen to a similar sentence ; the seducers and the seduced
will undergo an equal judgment. Cease, then, to say
again, What is it to me ? Let him see to it. Can you touch
pitch and say I am not defiled ? Can you hide fire in your
bosom and not be burned ? Can you have your portion
with adulterers without resembling them in some respect ?
Isaiah did not think so, for he reproached himself not only
because he was himself unclean, but also because he was
the companion of the unclean : Because, he says, / am a
man of unclean lips and I dwell in the midst of a people of
unclean lips (Isaiah vi. 5). For he blames himself not
because he dwelt among sinners, but because he has not
condemned their sins. For, so he says : Woe is me because
I have been silent (Isaiah vi. 5, VULG.). But when did he
consent to the doing of evil, that he blames himself not to
have condemned it in others ? And did not David also feel
that he was defiled by the contact of sin when he said :
With men that work iniquity, and I will not communicate
with their chosen friends (Ps. cxl. 4, VULG.). Or when
he made this prayer : Cleanse me O Lord from my secret
sins, and spare Thy servant from the offences of others
(Ps. xix. 12-13, VULG.). Wherefore he strove to avoid
the society of sinners in order not to share in their faults.
For he says farther : / have not sat in the council of vanity,
and I will not enter into the company of those who do
unjustly (Ps. xxv. 4-5, VULG.). And then he adds : 7
have hated the congregation of evil doers, and will not sit
with the wicked (ibid.}. Finally, hear the counsel of the
wise man : My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not
(Prov. i. 10).
14. Have you, then, against these and innumerable other
and similar testimonies of the truth, thought that you ought
to obey anybody ? O, odious perversity ! The virtue of
obedience which always wars on behalf of truth, is arrayed
against truth. Happy the disobedience of brother Henry,
who soon repenting of his error and retracing his steps, has
154 LETTER VII.
the happiness of not persisting longer in such an obedience.
The fruits of disobedience are sweeter and to be preferred
[to this] ; and now he tastes them with a good conscience
in the peaceable and constant practice of the duties of his
profession in the midst of his brethren, and in the bosom
of the Order to which he has devoted himself ; while some
of his former companions are breaking the hearts of their
ancient brethren by the scandals they are making ! Whose
disobedience of slackness and omission, if the choice were
given me, I would even prefer, with his sense of penitence,
than the punctilious obedience of such as these, with
scandal. For I consider that he does better for the keeping
unity in the bond of peace who obeys charity, though dis
obedient to his abbot, than those who so defer to a single
man as to prefer one to the whole body. I might boldly
add even this, that it is preferable to risk disobedience to
one person than to endanger the vows of our own pro
fession and all the other advantages of religion.
15. Since, not to speak of other obligations, there are
two principal ones to be observed by all dwellers in a
monastery, obedience to the abbot and stability or
constancy. But one of these ought not to be fulfilled to the
prejudice of the other, so that you should thus show your
self constant in your place as not to be above being subject
to the superior, and so obey the superior as not to lose
constancy. Thus if you would disapprove of a monk, how
ever constant in his cloister, who was too proud to obey the
orders of his superior, can you w r onder that we blame an
obedience which served you as the cause or occasion for
deserting your place, especially when in making a religious
profession constancy is vowed in such a way as not to be at
all subordinated to the will of the abbot under whom a
monk may be placed.
1 6. But perhaps you may turn what I say against me,
asking what I have done with the constancy which ought to
have kept me at Citeaux, whereas I now dwell elsewhere.
To which I reply, I am, indeed, a Cistercian monk professed
in that place, and was sent forth by my abbot to where I
LETTER VII. 155
now dwell, but sent forth in peace without scandal, without
disorder, according to our usages and constitutions. As
long, therefore, as I persevere in the same peace and
concord in which I was sent forth, as long as I stand fast in
unity, I do not prefer my private interests to those of the
community. I remain peaceful and obedient in the place
where I have been posted. I say that my conscience is at
peace, because I observe faithfully the stability I have
promised. How do I compromise my vow of stability when
I do not break the bond of concord, nor desert the firm
ground of peace ? If obedience keeps my body far distant
from Citeaux, the offering of the same devotions and a
manner of life in every way similar hold my spirit always
present there. But the day on which I shall begin to live,
according to other laws (which may God avert), to practise
other customs, to perform different observances, to introduce
novelties and customs from without, I shall be a transgressor
of my vows, and I shall no longer think that I am observing
the constancy that I promised. I say, then, that an abbot
ought to be obeyed in all things, but saving the oath of the
Order. But you having made profession, according to the
Rule of S. Benedict, where you promised obedience, you
promised also constancy. And if you have, indeed, obeyed,
but have not been constant by offending in one point, you
are made an offender in all, and if in all, then in obedience
itself.
17. Do you see, then, the proper scope of your
obedience ? How can it excuse your want of constancy,
which is not even of weight to justify itself? Everyone
knows that a person makes his profession solemnly and
regularly in the presence of the abbot. That profession is
made, therefore, in his presence only, not at his discretion
also. The abbot is employed as the witness, and not the
arbiter of the profession ; the helper of its fulfilment, not an
assistant to the breach of it ; to punish and not to authorize
bad faith. What, then ? Do I place in the hand of the
abbot the vows that I have taken, without exception ratified
by my mouth and signed by my hand in presence of God and
156 LETTER VII.
His Saints? Do I not hear out of the Rule (Rule of S.
Benedict C. 58) that if I ever do otherwise I shall be con
demned by God, whom I have mocked ? If my abbot or
even an angel from heaven should order me to do some
thing contrary to my vow, I would boldly refuse an
obedience of this kind, w T hich would make me a transgressor
of my own oath and make me swear falsely by the name of
my God, for I know, according to the truth of Scripture,
that out of my own mouth I must either be condemned or
justified (S. Luke xix. 22), and because The mouth which
lies slays the soul (Wisd. i. u), and that we chant with
truth before God, Thou wilt destroy all those who speak
falsehood (Ps. v. 6), and because everyone shall bear his
own burden (Gal. vi. 5), and everyone shall give account
of himself to God (Rom. xiv. 12). If it were otherwise
with me, with what front could I dare to lie in the presence
of God and His angels, when singing that verse from the
Psalm : / will render unto Thee my vows, which my lips
have uttered (Ps. Ivi. 13, 14).
In fact, the abbot himself ought to consider the advice
which the Rule gives, addressing itself to him in particular,
"that he should maintain the present Rule in all respects,"
and also, which is universally directed, and no exception
made, "that all should follow the Rule as guide and
mistress, nor is it to be rashly deviated from by any "
(Rule of S. Bened. capp. Ixiv. 3). Thus I have determined
to follow him as master always and everywhere, but on the
condition never to deviate from the authority of the Rule,
which, as he himself is witness, I have sworn and determined
to keep.
1 8. Let me, briefly, treat another objection which may
possibly be made to me, and I will bring to a close an
epistle which is already too long. It seems that I may be
reproached with acting otherwise than I speak. For I may
be asked, if I condemn those who have deserted their
monastery, not only with the consent of their abbot, but at
his command, on what principle do I receive and retain
those who from other monasteries, who, breaking their
LETTER VII. 157
vow of constancy and contemning the authority of their
superiors, come to our Order? To which my reply will be
brief, but dangerous ; for I fear that what I shall say will
displease certain persons. But I fear still more lest by
concealing the truth I should sing untruly in the Church
those words of the Psalmist : / have not hid my righteous
ness within my heart : my talk hath been of Thy truth and
of Thy salvation (Ps. xl. 12). I receive them, then, for this
reason, because I do not consider that they are wrong to
quit the monastery, in which they were able, indeed, to
make vows to God, but by no means to perform them, to
enter into another house where they may better serve God,
Who is everywhere, and who repair the wrong done by the
breach of their vow of constancy by the perfect performance
of all other duties of the religious life. If this displeases any
one, and he murmurs against a man thus seeking his own
salvation, the Author of salvation Himself shall reply for
him: Is thine eye evil because, he is good? (S. Matt. xx.
15). Whosoever thou art who enviest the salvation of
another, care rather for thine own. Dost thou not know
that by the envy of the devil deat/i entered into the world ?
(Wisd. ii. 24). Take heed, therefore, to thyself. For if
there is envy there is death ; surely, thou canst not both be
envious and live. Why seek a quarrel with thy brother,
since he seeks only the best means of fulfilling the vows
which he has made ? If the man seeks in what place or in
what manner he may best discharge what he has promised
to God, what wrong has he done to you ? Perhaps, if you
held him your debtor for a sum of money, however small,
you would oblige him to compass sea and dry land until
he rendered you the whole debt, even to the last farthing.
What, then, has your God deserved from you that you are
not willing for Him, too, to receive what is due? But in
envying one you render two hostile ; since you are trying
both to defraud the lord of the service due from his
servant, and to deprive the servant of the favour of his
lord. Wherefore do you not imitate him, and yourself
discharge what is due from you ? Do you think that your
158 LETTER VII.
debt, too, will not be required of you ? Or do you not
rather fear to irritate God against you the more by wickedly
saying in your heart, He will not require it ?
19. What, you say to me, do you then condemn all who
do not do likewise? No; but hear what I do think about
them, and do not make futile accusations. Why do you
wish to make me odious to many thousands of holy men,
who, under the same profession as I, though not living in
the same manner, either live holily or have died blessed
deaths ? I do not fail to remember that God has left to
Himself seven thousand men who had not bowed the knee
before Baal (i Kings xix. 18). Listen to me, then, man
envious and calumnious. I have said that I think men
coming to us from other monasteries ought to be received.
Have I blamed those who do not come ? The one class I
excuse, but I do not accuse the other. It is only the
envious whom I cannot excuse, nor, indeed, am I willing to
do so. These being excepted, I think that if any others
wish to pass to a stricter Rule, but fear to do so because of
scandal, or are hindered by some bodily weakness, do not
sin, provided that they study to live a holy, pious, and
regulated life in the place where they are. For if by the
custom of their monastery relaxations of the Rule have
been introduced, either that very charity, in which they
hesitate to remove to a better on account of causing
scandal, may, perhaps, be an excuse for this ; according
to that saying Charity covers a multitude of sins (i Peter
iv. 8), or the humility in which one conscious of his
infirmity regards himself as imperfect, for it is said God
gives grace unto the humble (S.James iv. 6).
20. Many things I have written, dear brother, and,
perhaps, it was not needful to use so many words, for an
intelligence such as yours, quick in understanding what is
said, and a will well-disposed to follow good counsel.
But although I have written specially to you, yet so many
words need not have been written on your account, but for
those for whom they may be needful. But I warn you, as
my own former and intimate friend, in few words and with
LETTER VII. 159
all confidence, not to keep longer in suspense, at the great
peril of your own soul, the souls of those who are desiring
and awaiting your return. You hold now in your hands (if
I do not mistake) both your own eternal life and death, and
theirs who are with you ; for I judge that whatever you
decide or do they will do also. Otherwise, announce to
them the grave judgment which has been rightly passed
with respect to them by all the Abbots of our Order.
Those who return shall live, those who resist shall die.
LETTER VIII. (A.D. 1131.)
To BRUNO, 1 ARCHBISHOP ELECT OF COLOGNE.
Bernard having been consulted by Bruno as to whether
he ought to accept the See of Cologne, so replies as to hold
him in suspense, and render him in awe of the burden of
so great a charge. He advises him to seek counsel of God
in prayer.
i. You seek counsel from me, most illustrious Bruno, as to
whether you ought to accept the Episcopate, to w r hich it is
desired to advance you. What mortal can presume to
decide this for you ? If God calls you, who can dare to dis
suade you, but if He does not call you, who may counsel you
to draw near ? Whether the calling is of God or not who
can know, except the Spirit, who searcheth even the deep
things of God, or one to whom God Himself has revealed
it ? That which renders advice still more doubtful is the
humble, but still terrible, confession in your letter, in which
you accuse your own past life gravely, but, as I fully believe,
in sincerity and truth. And it is undeniable that such a life
1 Bruno, son of Engelbert, Count of Altena, was consecrated, in 1 132, by
William, Cardinal Bishop of Praeneste, and succeeded Frederick in the See of
Cologne. In the year 1136 he proceeded into Italy with the Emperor Lothair,
and died in that year. He was buried in the church of S. Nicholas, at Bari, in
Apulia A short time after his death his tomb was \iolated, as was that of
Duke Raoul, by Roger, Prince of Sicily ; their bodies were dragged through the
street, and mutilated with cruelty more than barbarous. The chronicler Otto
of Frisingen calls him " a learned man."
l6o LETTER VIII.
is unworthy of a function so holy and exalted. On the
other hand, you are very right to fear (and I fear the same
with you) if, because of the unworthiness you feel, you
fail to make profitable use of the talent of knowledge com
mitted to you, unless you could, perhaps, find another way,
less abundant, perhaps, but also less perilous, of making
increase from it. I tremble, I confess it, for I ought to say
to you as to myself what I feel : I tremble, I say, at the
thought of the state whence, and that whither, you are
called, especially since no period of penitence has inter
vened to prepare you for the perilous transition from the
one to the other. And, indeed, the right order requires
that you should study to care for your own conscience
before charging yourself with the care of those of others.
That is the first step of piety, of which it is written, To pity
tliine own soul is pleasing unto the Lord (Ecclus. xxx.
23). It is from this first step that a well-ordered charity
proceeds by a straight path to the love of one s neighbour,
for the precept is to love him as ourselves. But if you
are about to love the souls that would be confided to
you as you have loved your own hitherto, I would prefer
not to be confided rather than be so loved. But if you
shall have first learned to love yourself then you will know,
perhaps, ho\v you should love me.
2. But what if God should quicken His grace and multiply
His mercy upon you, and His clemency is able more quickly
to replace the soul in a state of grace than daily penitence ?
Blessed, indeed, is he unto whom the Lord will not impute
sin (Ps. xxxii. 2), for who shall bring accusation against the
elect of God? If God justifies, who is he that condemns?
This short road to salvation that holy thief attained, who
in one and the same day both confessed his iniquities and
entered into glory. He was content to pass by the cross
as by a short bridge from the religion of death 1 unto the
land of the living, and from this foul mire into the paradise
of joy (S. Luke xxiii. 43). This sudden remedy of piety
that sinful woman happily obtained, in whose soul grace of
1 Unlikeness.
LETTER VIII. l6l
a sudden began to abound, where offences had so abounded.
Without much labour of penitence her sins were pardoned,
because she loved much (S. Luke vii. 37-50), and in a short
time she merited to receive that amplitude of charity which,
as it is written, covers the multitude of sins (i S. Peter iv.
8). This double benefit and most rapid goodness also that
paralytic in the Gospel experienced, being cured first in the
soul, then in the body.
3. But it is one thing to obtain the speedy forgiveness of
sins, and another to be borne in a brief space from the sins
themselves to the badges (fillets) of high dignities in the
Church. Yet I see that Matthew from the receipt of
custom was raised to the supreme honour of the Aposto-
late. But this again troubles me, because he did not hear
with the other Apostles the charge, Go yc into all the world
and prcacJi the Gospel to every creature (S. Mark xvi. 15),
until after lie had done penitence, accompanying the Lord
whithersoever He went, bearing long privation and remain
ing with Him in His temptations. I am not greatly reassured,
though S. Ambrose was taken from the judge s tribunal to
the priesthood, because he had from a boy led a pure and
clean life, though in the world, and then he endeavoured to
avoid the Episcopate even by flight and by hiding himself
and many other means. Again, if Saul also was suddenly
changed into Paul, a vessel of election, the Doctor of the
Gentiles, and this be adduced as an example, it entirely
destroys the similarity of the two cases to observe that he,
therefore, obtained mercy because, as he himself says, he
sinned ignorantly in unbelief. 1 Besides, if such incidents,
done for good and useful purposes, can be cited, it should
be, not as examples, but as marvels, and it can be truly
said of them, This is the change of the right hand of the
Hig/iest (Ps. Ixxvii. 10).
4. In the meantime let these provisional replies to your
1 i Tim. i. 13. But surely the inference that the writer should have drawn
was that S. Paul s sudden transformation was combined with and to be attri
buted to his Baptism : " cui prorsus innovate per Baptismum omnia veterasint
dimissa." [E.J
VOL. I. II
162 LETTER VIII.
queries suffice. If I do not express a decisive opinion, it is
because I do not myself feel assured. This must needs be
the case, for the gift of prophecy and of wisdom only could
resolve your doubt. For who could draw clear water out of
a muddy pool ? Yet there is one thing that I can do for a
friend without danger, and with the assurance of a good
result ; that is to offer to God my petition that He will
assist you in this matter. Leaving, therefore, to Him the
secret things of His Providence, of which we are ignorant,
I will beg Him, with humble prayer and earnest supplica
tion, that He will work in you and with respect to you that
which shall be for His glory, and at the same time for your
good. And you have also the Lord Norbert, 1 whom you may
conveniently consult in person on all such subjects. For
that good man is more fitted than I to explain the myste
rious acts of Providence, as he is nearer to God by his
holiness.
LETTER IX. (A.D. 1132.)
To THE SAME, THEN ARCHBISHOP OF COLOGNE.
He exhorts Bruno, then recently created Archbishop of
Cologne, to fear.
I have received with respect the Letter of your Grace,
and have attended with care to what you have enjoined. If
I have succeeded, you will have proof. But enough respect
ing that. Permit me in the same spirit of charity to say what
follows. If it is certain that all those who are called to the
ministry, are chosen also to the Kingdom, certainly the
Archbishop of Cologne is secure of his own salvation. But
if Saul was chosen to the kingdom, and Judas to the priest
hood, by no other than God Himself, and it cannot be dis
proved that Scripture asserts this, then it is needful for even
the Archbishop of Cologne to fear. But if that declaration
holds good even in our own time (and it is true that it does)
1 The founder of the Prcemonstratensian Onkr. See respecting him Letter
LETTER IX. 163
that not many noble, not many powerful, not many wise
are called by God (i Cor. i. 26), has not the Archbishop of
Cologne a triple cause for fearing ? Let us, then, who are
raised to high dignities, study not to be high-minded, but
to fear, and condescend to those of low estate. Have they
made you chief ? it is said, be among them as one of the
rest (Ecclus. xxxii. i) ; and again, The greater tliou art,
the more humble thyself in all things (Ecclus. xxx. 18). It
is the counsel of the wise, and listen to that of Wisdom
Himself, who says He that is greatest among you, let him
be as the younger (S. Luke xxii. 26). We know from other
passages that those who have authority will have to meet a
strict judgment (Wisd. vi. 5). Fear, then, ye that are
powerful. The servant, also, that knoweth his Lord s will,
and doeth it not, he shall beat with many stripes (S. Luke
xii. 47). FYar, then, ye that are learned. Let the noble
fear, for the Judge of all is not an acceptor of persons.
That triple bond of necessary reason for fear will be very
difficult to break through. Do I seem hard because I do
not flatter, because I inculcate fear, which is the beginning
of wisdom, upon a friend ? May it be granted to me always
so to benefit my friends ; that is, by inspiring into them a
salutary fear, rather than to deceive them by flattery. To
that He incites me who says : Happy is the man who feareth
alway (Prov. xxviii. 14); and He deters me from flattery
who says : O My people, they ivho flatter t/iee cause thee
to err (Is. iii. 12, VuLG.).
LETTER X. (A.D. 1132.)
To THE SAME.
He incites Bruno to a just zeal for the punishment of
crime.
The duty of your office, and the injunction of the Holy
See, lay upon you a double obligation to punish a crime so
enormous. Yet I think it not superfluous that the admoni-
164 LETTER X.
tion of a friend should be added in a matter of such import
ance. I wish the one whom I regard as father and friend
to be admonished of this, to punish in every case that
requires it, and with a due degree of severity ; so that you
should not only visit an offence that is before you with a
just chastisement, but should also restrain the hearer from
rashly imitating it.
LETTER XI. (Circa A.D. 1125.)
TO GUIGUES, 1 THE PRIOR, AND TO THE OTHER MONKS OF
THE GRAND CHARTREUSE.
He discourses much and piously of the law of true and
sincere charity, of its signs, its degrees, its effects, and of
its perfection which is reserved for Heaven (P atria}.
Brother Bernard, of Clairvaux, wishes health eternal to
the most reverend among fathers, and to the dearest among
friends, Guigues, Prior of the Grande Chartreuse, and to
the holy Monks who are with him.
i. I have received the letter of your Holiness as joyfully
as I had long and eagerly desired it. I have read it, and the
letters which I pronounced with my mouth, I felt, as it
were, sparks of fire in my heart, which warmed my heart
within me; as coming from that fire which the Lord has sent
upon the earth (S. Luke xii. 49). How great a fire must
glow in those meditations from which such sparks fly forth !
1 His name was de Castro, and he was a Frenchman by birth. He was the
fifth General Prior of the Grand Chartreuse from B. Bruno, and the first writer
of the Statutes. He was held in much affection by Bernard, as appears both
from this Letter and from Book III. of the Life of St. Bernard, c. i. Peter
the Venerable speaks of him in Letter 388 thus : <: He was in his time the flower
and glory of religion." In the fortieth Letter of Book IV., addressed to Basil,
successor of Guigues in the rule of the Grand Chartreuse, he says : " I had
determined to renew with you those old and sacred meetings of your predecessor,
Guigues, of happy memory, held frequently with me, in which I used to be so
fired by the flashes, as it were, of wisdom proceeding from his mouth that I was
of necessity almost lost to the perception of all human things." He rendered
his soul to the Lord, not without report of sanctity, in (or about) the 2jthyear of
his priorate, the year 1 137, but in the 53rd year from the founding of the Order.
LETTER XI.
165
This, your inspired and inspiring salutation, was to me, I
confess, not as if coming from man, but like words descend
ing surely from Him who sent the salutation to Jacob. It
is not for me, in fact, a simple salutation given in passing,
according to the custom and usage of men, but it is plainly
from the very bowels of charity, as I feel, that this benedic
tion, so sweet and so unhoped for, has come forth. I pray God
to bless you, who have had the goodness to prevent me with
benedictions of such sweetness, that confidence is granted
to me, your humble servant, to reply, since you have first
written ; for though I had meditated writing, I had hitherto
not presumed to do so. For I feared to trouble, by my
eager scribbling, the holy quiet which you have in the Lord,
and the religious silence which isolates you from the world.
I feared, also, to interrupt, even for a moment, those
mysterious whispers from God, and to pour my words into
ears always occupied with the secret praises of heaven. 1
feared to become as one who would trouble even Moses on
the mountain, Elias in the desert, or Samuel watching in
the temple, if I had tried to turn away ever so little, minds
occupied with divine communion. Samuel cries out : Speak,
Lord, for Thy servant hearctJi (i Sam. iii. 10). And should
I presume to make myself heard? I feared, I say, lest
presenting myself out of season before you, as it were to
David engaged in flight, or abiding in solitude, you might
not wish to listen, and might say, " Excuse me, I cannot
hear thee now ; I prefer rather to give ear to words sweeter
than thine." I will hear what the Lord God will say unto
me ; for He shall speak peace unto His people, and to His
saints, and to those who are converted at heart (Ps. Ixxxiv.
9, VULG.). Or, at least, this : Depart from me, ye evil-
disposed, and I will study the commandments of my God
(Ps. cxix. 115). For could I be so rash as to dare to arouse
the much-loved spouse sweetly resting in the arms of her
bridegroom as lone; as she will ? Should I not hear from
o o
her on the instant : Do not be troublesome to me ; / am for
My Beloved, and My Beloved is for Me ; He feedeth among
the lilies (Cant. ii. 16).
1 66 LETTER XI.
2. But what I do not dare to do, charity dares, and with
all confidence knocks at the door of a friend, thinking that
she ought by no means to suffer repulse, who knows
herself to be the mother of friendships ; nor does she fear
to interrupt for an instant your rest, though so pleasant, to
speak to you of her own task. She, when she will, causes
you to withdraw from being alone with God ; she, also,
when she willed, made you attentive to me; so that you did
not regard it as unworthy of you, not merely to benignantly
endure my speaking, but more, to urge me to break the
silence. I esteem the kindness, I admire the worthiness, I
praise and venerate the pure rejoicing with which you glory
in the Lord, for thejidvances in virtue which, as you suppose,
I have made. I am proud of so great a testimony, and
esteem myself happy in a friendship so grateful to me as
that of the servants of God towards me. This is now my
glory, this is my joy and the rejoicing of my heart, that not
in vain I have lifted up mine eyes unto the mountains
whence there has now come to me help of no small value.
These mountains have already distilled sweetness for me;
and I continue to hope that they will do so until our valleys
shall abound with fruit. That day shall be always for me a
/
day of festival and perpetual memorial, in which I had they
honour to see and to receive that worthy man, by whom it has
come about that I should be received into your hearts. And,
indeed, you had received me even before, if I may judge by
your letter ; but now with a more close and intimate friend
ship, since, as I find, he brought back to you too favourable
reports concerning me which, doubtless, he believed, though
without sufficient cause. For, as a faithful and pious man,
God forbid that he should speak otherwise than he believed.
And truly I experience in myself what the Saviour says :
He -who receives a righteous man in tlie name of a righteous
man shall receive a righteous man s reward (S. Matt. x. 41).
I have said, the reward of a righteous man, because I am
regarded as righteous, only through receiving one who is
righteous. If he has reported of me something more than
that, he has spoken not so much according to the truth of
LETTER XI. 167
the case as according to the simplicity and goodness of his
heart. You have heard, you have believed, you have
rejoiced, and have written, thereby giving me no little joy,
not only because I have been honoured with a degree of
praise and a high place in the estimation of your Holi
ness, but also because all the sincerity of your souls has
made itself known to me in no small measure. In few words,
you have shown to me with what spirit you are animated.
3. I rejoice, therefore, and congratulate you on your
sincerity and goodness as I congratulate myself on the
edification which you have afforded to me. That is,
indeed, true and sincere charity, and must be considered
to proceed from a heart altogether pure and a good
conscience and faith unfeigned, with which we love our
neighbour as ourself. For he who loves only the good
that himself has done, or, at least, loves it more than that of
others, does not love good for its own sake, but on account
O
of himself, and he who is such cannot do as the prophet
says : Give thanks unto the Lord , because He is good (Ps.
cxviii. i). He gives thanks, indeed, perhaps, because the
Lord is good to him, not because He is good in Himself.
Wherefore let him understand that this reproach from the
same prophet is directed against him : Tliey will praise
thee when thou doest well unto thy own soul (Ps. xlix. 18).
One man praises the Lord because He is mighty ; another
because He is good unto him ; and, again, another simply
because He is good. The first is a slave, and fears for him
self ; the second mercenary, and desires somewhat for him
self; but the third is a son, and gives praise to his Father.
Therefore both he who fears and he who desires are each
working for his own advantage ; charity which is in him
alone who is a son, seeketh not her own. Wherefore I
think that it was of charity that was spoken, The law of the
Lord is pure, converting the soul (Ps. xix. 7), because it is
that alone which can turn away the mind from the love of
itself and of the world and direct it towards God. Neither
fear nor selfish love converts the soul. They change some
times the outward appearance or the actions, but never
1 68 LETTER XI.
affect the heart. No doubt even the slave does sometimes
the work of God, but because he does it not of his own free
will he remains still in his hardness. The mercenary
person does it also, but not out of kindness, only as drawn
by his own particular advantage. Where there is distinc
tion of persons, there are personal interests, and where there
are personal interests there is a limit of willingness, and
there, without doubt, a rusting meanness. Let the very
fear by which he is constrained be a law to the slave, let
the greedy desire, with which the mercenary is bound, be a
law to him, since it is by it that he is drawn away and
enticed. But of these neither is without fault or is able to
convert the soul. But charity does convert souls when
it fills them with disinterested zeal.
4. Now, I should say that this charity is faultless in him
who has become accustomed to retain nothing for himself
out of that which is his own. He who keeps nothing for
himself gives to God quite certainly all that he has, and that
which belongs to God cannot be unclean. Thus that pure
law of the Lord is no other than charity, which seeks not
what is advantageous to herself, but that which profits
others. But law is said to be of the Lord, either because
He Himself lives by it or because no one possesses it except
by His gift. Nor let it seem absurd what I have said, that
even God lives by law, since I declared that this law was no
other than charity. For what but charity preserves in the
supreme and blessed Trinity that lofty and unspeakable
unity Avhich it has ? It is law, then, and charity the law of
the Lord, which maintains in a wonderful manner the
Trinity in Unity and binds It in the bond of peace. Yet let
no one think that I here take charity for a quality or a
certain accident in God, or otherwise to say that in God
(which God forbid) there is something which is not God ;
but I say that it is the very substance of God. I say nothing-
new or unheard of, for S. John says God is lo~ce (i S. John
iv. 1 6).
It is then right to say that charity is God, and at the same
time the gift of God. Therefore Charity gives charity, the
LETTER XI. 169
substantial : gives the accidental. Where the word signifies
the Giver it is a name of the substance, and where the thing
p-iven, it is a name of the accident. This is the eternal law,
O
Creator and Ruler of the Universe. Since all things have
been made through it in weight and measure and number,
and nothing is left without law, not even He who is the Law
of all things, vet He is Himself none other than the law
O *
which rules Him, a law uncreated as He.
5. But the slave and the mercenary have a law, not from
God, but which they have made for themselves the one by
not loving God, the other by loving something else more
than Him. They have, I say, a law which is their own and
not of the Lord, to which, nevertheless, their own is sub
jected ; nor are they able to withdraw themselves from the
unchangeable order of the divine law, though each should
make a law for himself. I would say, then, that a person
makes a law for himself when he prefers his own will to the
common and eternal law, perversely wishing to imitate his
Creator; so that as He is a law unto Himself, and is under
no authority but His Own, so the man also will be his own
master, will make his own will a law to himself. Alas !
what a heavy and insupportable yoke upon all the sons of
Adam, which weighs upon and bows down our necks, so that
our life is drawn near to the grave. Unhappy man that
I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death?
(Rom. vii. 24) with which I am so weighed down
that unless the Lord had helped me, my soul would almost
have dwelt in the grave (Ps. xciv. 17). With this load was
he burdened who groaned, saying : Why hast Thou set me
as a mark against Thee, so that I am a burden to myself?
(Job vii. 20). Where he says, / am made a burden to
myself, he showed that he was a law unto himself, and the
law no other than he himself had made it. But when,
speaking to God, he commenced by saying, Thou hast set
me as a mark against Thee, he showed that he had not
escaped from the Divine law. For this is the property of
that eternal and just law of God, that he who would not be
1 Mabillon reads sittstantica, but another reading is sut-stuntia. [E.]
170 LETTER XI.
ruled with gentleness by God, should be ruled as a punish
ment by his own self; and that all those who have willingly
thrown off the gentle yoke and light burden of charity
should bear unwillingly the insupportable burden of their
own will.
6. Thus the everlasting law does in a wonderful manner,
to him who is a fugitive from its power, both make him an
adversary and retain him as a subject; for while, on the
one hand, he has not escaped from the law of justice, by
which he is dealt with according to his merits, on the other
he does not remain with God in His light, or peace, or
glory. He is subjected to power, and excluded from
happiness. O Lord, my God, why dost T/wit not take away
inv sin, and pardon my transgression ? (Job vii. 21). So
that throwing down the heavy weight of my own will, I
may breathe easily under the light burden of charity ; that
I may not be overborne any longer by servile fear, nor
allured by selfish cupidity, but may be impelled by Thy
spirit, the spirit of liberty, which i-; that of Thy children.
Who is it who witnesses to inv spirit that I, too, am one of
Thy children, since Thy law is mine, and as Thou art, so
am I also, in this world? For it is quite certain that those who
do this which the Apostle says owe no one anything except
t) love one another (Rom. xiii. 8) are themselves as God is
in this world, nor are they slaves or mercenaries, but sons.
Therefore neither are sons without law, unless, perhaps,
some one should think the contrary because of this which is
written, the law is not made for a righteous man (i Tim..
i. 9). But it ought to be remembered that the law promul
gated in fear by a spirit of slavery is one thing, and that
given sweetly and gently by the spirit of liberty is another.
Those who are sons are not obliged to submit to the first.
O
but they are always under the rule of the second. Do you
wish to hear why it is said that law is not made for the
righteous ? You have not received, he says, the spirit of
slavery again in fear. Or why, nevertheless, they are
always under the rule of the law of charity? But ye have
received the spirit of tJic adoption of sons (Rom. viii. 15)..
LETTER XI. iyi
Listen, now, in what manner the righteous man confesses
that at the same time he is and is not under the law.
/ became, he says, to those which were under the law as
being under the law, although I myself was not tinder the
law : but to those u /io were without law, I was as being
without law, since I was not without the law of God -but in
the law of Christ (i Cor. ix. 20, 21). Whence it is not
accurately said the righteous have no law, or the righteous are
without law, but that the law was not made for the righteous;
that is, it is not, as it were, imposed upon unwilling
subjects, but given freely to willing hearts by Him to
whose sweet inspiration it is due. Wherefore the Lord
also beautifully says, Take My yoke upon you (S. Matt. xi.
29). As if He would say, I do not impose it upon you
against your will, take it if you are willing; otherwise you
will find not rest, but labour, for your souls.
7. The law of charity, then, is good and sweet, it is not
only light and sweet to bear, but it renders bearable and
lio-lit the laws even of slaves and mercenaries. But it does
o
not destroy these, but brings about their fulfilment, as the
Lord says, / am not come to destroy the law, but to fulfil
(S. Matt. v. 17). The one it moderates, the other it
reduces to order, and each it lightens. Charity will never
be without fear, but that fear is good ; it will never be
without any thought of interest, but that a restrained and
moderated one. Charity, therefore, perfects the law of the
slave when it inspires a generous devotion, and that of the
mercenary when it gives a better direction to interested
wishes. So, then, devotion mixed with fear does not
annul those last, but purifies them, only it takes away the
fear of punishment which servile fear is never exempt from;
and this fear is clean and filial, enduring for ever (Ps.
xix. g). For that which is written, perfect love takes away
fear (i S. John iv. 18), is to be understood of the fear of
punishment, which is never wanting, as we have said, to
slavish fear. It is, in fact, a common mode of speech
which consists in putting the cause for the effect. As for
cupidity, it is then rightly directed by the charity which
172 LETTER XI.
is joined with it, since ceasing altogether to desire things
which are evil, it begins to prefer those which are better,
nor does it desire good things except in order to reach
those which are better; which when, by the grace of God,
it has fully obtained, the body and all the good things
which belong to the body will be loved only for the sake
of the soul, the soul for the sake of God, and God alone for
Himself.
8. However, as we are in fleshly bodies, and are born
of the desire of the flesh, it is of necessity that our desire,
or affection, should begin from the flesh ; but if it is rightly
directed, advancing step by step under the guidance of
grace, it will at length be perfected by the Spirit, because
t/iat is not first which is spiritual, but that which is
natural , and afterwards that which is spiritual ; and it is
needful that we should first bear the image of the earthly
and afterwards t/iat of the heavenly (i Cor. xv. 46, 49).
First, then, a man loves his own self for self s sake, since
he is flesh, and he cannot have any taste except for things
in relation with him ; but when he sees that he is not able
to subsist by himself, that God is, as it were, necessary to
him, he begins to inquire and to love God by faith. Thus
he loves God in the second place, but because of his own
interest, and not for the sake of God Himself. But when, on
account of his own necessity, he has begun to worship Him
and to approach Him by meditation, by reading, by prayer,
by obedience, he comes little by little to know God with a
certain familiarity, and in consequence to find Him sweet
and kind ; and thus having tasted how sweet the Lord is,
he passes to the third stage, and thus loves God no longer
on account of his own interest, but for the sake of God
Himself. Once arrived there, he remains stationary, and I
know not if in this life man is truly able to rise to the
fourth degree, which is, no longer to love himself except for
the sake of God. Those who have made trial of this (if
there be any) may assert it to be attainable ; to me, I
confess, it appears impossible. It will be so without doubt
when the good and faithful servant shall have been brought
LKTTKR XI. 173
into the joy of his Lord, and inebriated with the fulness of
the house of God. For being, as it were, exhilarate, he
shall in a wonderful way be forgetful of himself, he shall
lose the consciousness of what he is, and being absorbed
altogether in God, shall attach himself unto Him with all
his powers, shall thenceforth be one spirit with Him.
9. I consider that the prophet referred to this when he
said: / will enter into the powers of the Lord : O, Lord, I
will ma kc me ut ion of T/iy righteousness only (Ps. Ixxi. 16).
He knew well that when he entered into the spiritual
powers of God he would be freed from all the infirmities of
the flesh, and would have no longer to think of them, but
would be occupied only with the perfections of God.
Then, for certain, each of the members of Christ would be
able to say of himself, what Paul said of their Head :
If we Jiai C known Christ according to the flesh, yet now
li.cnccforth know ive Him no more (2 Cor. v. 16). There
no one knows himself according to the flesh, because
flesh and blood will not inherit the kingdom of God (i Cor.
xv. 50). Not that the substance of flesh will not be there,
but that every fleshly necessity will be away ; the love of
the flesh is to be absorbed into the love of the spirit, and
the weak human passions which exist at present will be
absorbed into powers divine. Then the net of charity,
which is now drawn through a great and vast sea, and does !
not cease to bring together from every kind of fish, at
length drawn to the shore, shall retain only the good, j
rejecting the bad. And while in this life charity fills with
all kinds of fishes the vast spaces of its net, suiting itself to
all according to the time, making, in a sense, its own, and
partaking of the good and evil fortunes of all, it is accustomed
not only to rejoice with them that rejoice, but to weep with
them that weep. But when it shall have reached the shore [of
eternity], casting away as evil fish all that it bore with grief
before, it will retain those only which are sources of pleasure
and gladness. Then Paul will no longer be weak with the
weak, or be scandalized with those who are scandalized,
since scandal and weakness will be far away. We ought
174 LETTER XI.
not to thjnk that he will still let fall tears over those who
have not repented here below ; and as it is certain that
there will no longer be sinners, so there will be no one to
repent. Far be it from us to think that he will mourn and
deplore those whose portion is everlasting fire with the
devil and his angels, when in that City of God which the
streams of that river make glad (Ps. xlvi. 4), the gates of
which the Lord loves more than all the dwellings of Jacob
(Ps. Ixxxvii. 2), because in those dwellings, although the
joy of victory is sometimes tasted, yet the combat always
continues, and sometimes the struggle is for life ; but in
that dear country there is no place for adversity or sorrow,
as in that Psalm we sing : The abiding place of all those
who rejoice is in Thee (Ps. Ixxxvii. 7, VULG.), and again :
Everlasting joy shall be unto them (Is. Ixi. 7). How, then,
shall any remembrance be of mercy, where the justice of
God shall be alone remembered ? There can be no feeling
of compassion called into exercise where there shall be no
place for misery, or occasion for pity.
10. I am impelled to prolong this already lengthy dis
course, dearly beloved and much longed-for brethren, by
the very strong desire I have of conversing with you ; but
there are three things which show me that I ought to come
to an end. First, that I fear to be burdensome to you ; that
I am ashamed to show myself so loquacious ; third, that I
am pressed by domestic cares. In conclusion, I beg you
to have compassion for me, and if you have rejoiced for the
good things you have heard of me, sympathize with me
also, I pray, in my too real temptations and cares. He
who related these things to you has, no doubt, seen some
few little things, and has valued these little things as great,
while your indulgence has easily believed what it willingly
heard. I felicitate you, indeed, on that charity which
believes all things (i Cor. xiii. 7). But I am confounded
by the truth which knows all things. I beg you to believe
me in what I say of myself rather than another who has
only seen me from without. No man knowcth the things
that are in a man save the spirit of man which is in him
LETTER XII. 175
(i Cor. ii. n). I assure you that I do not speak of myself
by conjecture, but out of full knowledge, and that I am not
such as I am believed and said to be. I feel assured of
this, and confess it frankly ; that so I may obtain your
special prayers, and thus may become such as your letter
sets forth, than which there is nothing I desire more.
LETTER XII.
To THE SAME.
He commends himself to their prayers.
To the very dear Lord and Reverend father Guigues,
Prior of the Grande Chartreuse, and to the holy brethren
who are with him, Brother Bernard of Clairvaux offers his
humble service.
In the first place, when lately I approached your parts, I
was prevented by unfavourable circumstances from coming
to see you and to make your acquaintance ; and although
my excuse may perhaps be satisfactory to you, I am not
able, I confess, to pardon myself for missing the oppor
tunity. It is a vexation to me that my occupations brought
it about, not that I should neglect to come to see you, but
that I was unable to do so. This I frequently have to
endure, and therefore my anger is frequently excited.
Would that I were worthy to receive the sympathy of all
my kind friends. Otherwise I shall be doubly unhappy if
my disappointment does not excite your pity. But I give
you an opportunity, my brethren, of exercising brotherly
compassion towards me, not that I merit it. Pity me not
because I am worthy, but because I am poor and needy.
Justice inquires into the merit of the suppliant, but mercy
only looks to his unhappiness. True mercy does not judge,
but feels ; does not discuss the occasion which presents
itself, but seizes it. When affection calls us, reason is silent.
When Samuel wept over Saul it was by a feeling of pity,
and not of approval (i Samuel xv. 13). David shed tears
176 LETTKK XIII.
over his parricidal son, and although they were profitless, yet
they were pious. Therefore do ye pity me (because I need
it, not because I merit it), ye who have obtained from God
the grace to serve Him without fear, far from the tumults of
the world from which ye are freed. Happy those whom
He has hidden in His tabernacle in the day of evil
men ; they shall trust in the shadow of His wings until the
iniquity be overpast. As for me, poor, unhappy, and
miserable, labour is my portion. I seem to be as a little
imHedged bird almost constantly out of the shelter of its
nest, exposed to wind and tempest. I am troubled, and I
stao-o-er like a drunken man, and my whole conscience is
gnawed with care. Pity me, then ; for although I do not
merit pity I need it, as I have said.
LETTER XIII. (A.D. 1126.)
To THE LORD POPE HONORIUS.
He begs that the election of Albert to the See of
Chalons-sur-M arne may be ratified.
To the supreme Pontiff Honorius, a certain brother, a
monk by profession, and by his life a sinner, sends his
humble duty.
It is said that over you the prayer of a poor man has
more power than the will of the powerful. The thought of
this singular nobleness in you, as well as the suggestion of
charity, impels me to write without fear to your Highness.
1 speak to you, my lord, with regard to the Church of
i Alberic had a school in Rheims. " A man most illustrious for his know
ledge of literature and his sound judgment," says Robert de Monte of him. Peter
Abaelard, his rival, calls him " Remensis," and " a disciple of William de Cham-
peaux ; (Hist. Calamit. suar. cap. 5). He is said to have been a "fellow
scholar" with Abaelard (Epist. Heloissa; ii.), but became a strong opponent of the
novel speculations of the latter, and it was by his efforts in great measure in the
Council of Soissons that Abaelard was obliged to commit to the flames his Book
on the Trinity.
The letter and commendation before us does not seem to have been successful
in its purpose. But it appears that Alberic succeeded to the See of Bourges at
the death of its Bishop, Ulgrinus, some time after 1128.
LETTER XIV.
77
Chalons, and I neither am able, nor ought I, to conceal from
you as far as my ability extends, the danger to which it is
exposed. In fact, being in its neighbourhood, I feel already
that the peace of this Church will speedily be profoundly
troubled, if your Holiness should not be able to assent to
the election of that distinguished man, that is, of Magister
Alberic, which has united the suffrages of the whole clergy
and the people in an equal vote. On that subject, if you
should deign to inquire or to care for my opinion, I would
say that that man is of a faith irreproachable, that his
doctrine is sound, and that he has shown prudence both in
divine and human things ; and I hope that in the House of
God (if by Him he should be chosen) he would be a vessel
of honour, and would be of service not only to that house,,
but to the whole of the Gallican Church. It is now for
your wisdom to judge, whether I am right in asking from
you the giving of a dispensation from which such good
effects may be expected.
LETTER XIV. (Circa A.D. 1126.)
To THE SAME POPE HONOR lus.
lie commends the cause of the Church of Dijon to the-
Pontiff.
To the Supreme Pontiff HONORIUS, Brother BERNARD,
called to be Abbot of Clairvaux, wishes health, and all that
the prayers of a sinner can do in his behalf.
God, whom we venerate in you, knows the respectful fear
with which I write to you. But charity, who governs both
you and me, makes me bold so to do. Being requested by
the Church of Dijon, 1 I have undertaken to make request
1 This wss the convent of monks of St. Benignus, at Dijon, which, as he
says in the following Letter, he held in greataffection, because of the antiquity
of their house. It was in the Church of that house that the f ither and mother
of Bernard svere buried. It was not until long after that they were taken up to
be carried to Clairvaux. The writers of that age, including Bjrnard, as we see
in this nnd many others of his Letters, use the words Chinc/i and Monastery
VOL. I. 12
178 LETTER XV.
.on its behalf. But I almost doubt what I ought precisely to
.ask for it. For, as it is unjust to try to obtain anything
contrary to justice, either by entreaty or by purchase, so it
is superfluous before one who loves justice to make great
efforts on behalf of that which is just. But although I do
not know precisely what request it is best to make, yet I
have full confidence that your kindness will not be unfruit
ful, especially in the cause of Religious. 1 And, indeed, I
know not what your Holiness may think good to decide
after a careful examination of the matter, but I can bear
witness that I have heard, and frequently do hear, that the
Abbey of Dijon has possessed by long and uncontested
tenure that 2 which the people of Luxeuil are contesting with
them, so that the older inhabitants of the neighbourhood
are astonished, and indignant at the unfounded claim.
LETTER XV. (In the same year as the preceding.}
To HAIMERIC THE CHANCELLOR.
To the illustrious lord HAIMERIC, Chancellor of the Apos
tolic See, BERNARD of Clairvaux wishes health, and the
grace to follow the Apostle, forgetting the things which arc
behind, and looking forward to those which are before.
Our friends are not ignorant of your friendship for me,
and if I were desirous of keeping the fruit of so great
felicity to myself they would show themselves jealous. The
monks of Dijon are very dear to me, because of the ancient
associations of that Church. I beg you to let them experi-
indiscriminately to denote a convent of monks. See Letters 39, 60, 339, 392,
394, 39;, etc., while it is not rare to find the word Monastery employed for
Church* The Church of S. Benignus is simply called the Church of Dijon,
because it is the principal Church of the town.
1 Bernard and other writers not unfrequemly use this name to designate
monks, as in Letters 45 and 202, and in Sermon 26, de Diversis, n. 2. Gregory
the Great long before uses the same term (Book i. Ep. 59).
2 The dispute was respecting two little chapels of Clermont and of Vignory,
and was not closed until a decision of Stephen, Archbishop of Vienna, assisted
by some other Bishops. (Perard in Burgundicis Monumentis, pp. 224 and 228.)
LETTER XVI.
ence that affection, whether yours for me or mine for them
is not without its influence. Justice, nevertheless, being
done in all respects, against which it is not right, even for
a friend, to desire anything.
LETT ER XVI. (The same year as the preceding.}
To PETER, CARDINAL PRESBYTER.
To his very dear lord PETER, Cardinal Presbyter, Brother
BERNARD, Abbot of Clairvaux, wishes health everlasting.
I have no cause to plead with you ; yet the cause of the
monks of Dijon, because they are Religious, I regard as
mine. Take their cause in hand as if it were mine; yet
so mine that it may be also that of justice. I believe, how
ever, that their cause is just; and the whole country testifies
with
me.
LETTER XVII. (Circa A.D. 1127.)
To PETER, CARDINAL DEACON.!
He excuses himself that he has not come when sum
moned, and replies respecting some of his writings -which
arc asked for .
To the venerable lord PETER, Cardinal Deacon of the
Roman Church, Brother BERNARD wishes health and entire
devotedness.
That I have not come to you as you commanded has been
caused not by my sloth, but by a graver reason. It is that,
if you will permit me to say so with all the respect which
is due to you, and all good men, I have taken a resolution
1 This Peter is without doubt another person from Peter Leonis, who was
equally legate, but Cardinal Presbyter. He seems to be the same whom Pope
Hononus II. sent into France at the beginning of his pontificate as legate
a Later, against Ponce and his followers, as Peter the Venerable declares in his
second book On Miracles, c, ,3. Or he may have been Peter de Fontaines a
compatriot of S. Bernard, created Cardinal A.D. .120, on the title of S Mar
cellus, by Pope Callixtus II.
l8o LKTTKR XVII.
not again to go out of my monastery, unless for precise
causes ; and I see at present nothing of that kind which
would permit me to carry out your wish, and gratify
my own by coming to you. But you, what are you doing
with respect to that promise of coming here which your
former letter contained ? We are awaiting it still. What
the writings were, which you had before ordered to be pre
pared for you [otherwise, for us] and now ask for, I am
absolutely ignorant, and, therefore, I have done nothing.
For I do not remember to have written any book on morals
which I should think worthy of the attention of your
Excellency. 1
Some of the brethren have drawn up in their own way
certain fragments of my instructions as they have heard
them. Of whom one is conveniently near to you, viz. r
Gebuin, Precentor and Archdeacon of Troves. You can
easily, if you wish, obtain of him the notes drawn up by him.
Yet if your occupation would leave you the time, and you
should think fit to pay to your humble sons the visit which
you promised, and which they have been expecting, I would
do all in my power to give you satisfaction, if I have in
my writings anything which could please you, or if I were
able to compose any work which should seem worthy of you;
for I greatly esteem your high reputation. I respect that
care and zeal about holy things which I have heard of in
you, and I should regard myself as very happy if these un
polished writings, which are a part of my duty, should be in
any respect agreeable to you.
i Bernard gives usually the title of Excellency to Cardinals. Sometimes lie
calls them Holiness. But the name of Excellency is also given to the secular
princes as to the Pope, and even to Bishops.
LETTER XVIII. l8l
LETTER XVIII. (Circa A.D. 1127.)
TO THE SAME. 1
He protests against the reputation for holiness which is
attributed to him, and promises to communicate the
treatises which he has written.
i. Even if I should give myself to you entirely that
would be too little a thing still in my eyes, to have
recompensed towards you even the half of the kindly
feeling which you express towards my humility. I con
gratulate myself, indeed, on the honour which you have
done me; but my joy, I confess, is tempered by the
thought that it is not anything I have accomplished, but
only an opinion of my merit which has brought me this
favour. I should be greatly ashamed to permit myself in
vain complacency when I feel assured that what is loved or
respected in me is not, indeed, what I am, but what I am
thought to be; for when I am thus loved it is not then I that
am loved, but something in me, I know not what, and
which is not me, is loved in my stead. 2 I say that I know
not, but, to speak more truly, I know very well that it is
nothing. For whatever is thought to exist, and does not,
is nothing. The love and he who feels it is real enough,
but the object of the love does not exist. That such should
be capable of inspiring love is wonderful, but still more it is
regrettable. It is from that we are able to feel whence and
whither we go, what we have lost, what we find. By
remaining united to Him, who is the real Being, and who
is always happy, we also shall attain a continued and happy
existence. By remaining united to Him, I said; that is, not
only by knowledge, but by love. For certain of the sons
of Adam when they had known God, glorified Him not as
God, nor were thankful, but became vain in their imagina-
1 The title of this Letter is not the same in all the manuscripts. Colbertinus
n. 1410, and that of the library of Compiegne have to the same Haimerie ; three
other Colbertine MSS. to the .same, that is to say to Peter the Deacon, which, as
Mabillon thinks, is to be preferred.
This resembles a passage in S. Augustine, Ep. 143, n. 3.
1-82 LETTER XVIII.
tions (Rom. i. 21). Rightly, then, were their foolish licarts
darkened, because since they recognized the truth and
despised it, they were justly punished for their fault by
losing the power to recognize it. Alas ! in thus adhering
to the truth by the mind, but with the heart departing from
it, and loving vanity in its place, man became himself a vain
thine. And what is more vain than to love vanity, and
O *
what is more repugnant to justice than to despise the
truth? What is more just than that the power to recognize
the truth should be withdrawn from those who have despised
it, and that those who did not glorify the truth when they
recognized it should lose the power of boasting of the
knowledge ? Thus the love of vanity is the contempt of
truth, and the contempt of truth the cause of our blindness.
And because they did not like, he says, to retain God in
their knowledge, He gave tliem over unto a reprobate mind
(Rom. i. 28).
2. From this blindness, then, it follows that we frequently
love and approve that which is not for that which is;
since while we are in this body we are wandering from
Him who is the Fulness of Existence. And what is man,
O God, except that Thou hast taken knowledge of Him ? If
the knowledge of God is the cause that man is anything,
the want of this makes him nothing. But He who calls
those things which are not as though they were, pitying
those reduced in a manner to nothing, and not yet able to
contemplate in its reality, and to embrace by love that
hidden manna, concerning which the Apostle says : Your
life is hidden -with Christ in God (Cor. iii. 3). But in the
meantime He has given us to taste it by faith and to seek
for by strong desire. By these two we are brought for the
second time from not being, to begin to be that His (new)
creature, which one day shall pass into a perfect man, into
the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ. That,
without doubt, shall take place, when righteousness shall be
turned into judgment, that is, faith into knowledge, the
righteousness which is of faith into the righteousness of
full knowledge, and also the hope of this state of exile shall
LETTER XVIII. 183
be changed into the fulness of love. For if faith and love
O
begin during the exile, knowledge and love render perfect
those in the Presence of God. For as faith leads to full
knowledge, so hope leads to perfect love, and, as it is said,
If ye will not believe ye shall not understand (Is. vii. 9,
ace. to Ixx.), so it may equally be said with fitness, if you
have not hoped, you will not perfectly love. Knowledge
then is the fruit of faith, perfect charity of hope. In the
meantime the just lives by faith (Hab. ii. 4), but he is not
happy except by knowledge ; and he aspires towards God
as the hart desires the water-brooks ; but the blessed drinks
with joy from the fountain of the Saviour, that is, he
delights in the fulness of love.
O
3. Thus understanding and love, that is, the knowledge
of and delight in the truth, are, perhaps, as it were, the two
arms of the soul, with which it embraces and comprehends
with all saints the length and breadth, the height and
depth, that is the eternity, the love, the goodness, and the
wisdom of God. And what are all these but Christ? He
is eternity, because this is life eternal to know Thee the
true God and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent " (S. John
xvii. 3). He is Love, because He is God, and God is Love
(i S. John iv. 1 6). He is both the Goodness of God and
the Wisdom of God (i Cor. i. 24), but when shall these
things be? When shall we see Him as He is? For the
expectation of the creature waitcth for the revelation of
the sons of God. For the creature was subjected unto
vanity, not willingly (Rom. viii. 19, 20). It is that vanity
diffused through all which makes us desire to be praised
even when we are blameable, and not to be willing to
praise those whom we know to be worthy of it. But this
too is vain, that we, in our ignorance, frequently praise what
is not, and are silent about what is. What shall we say to
this, but that the children of men are vain, the children
of men are deceitful upon the weights, so that they deceive
each other by vanity (Ps. Ixi. 9, Ixx.). \Ve praise falsely,
and are foolishly pleased, so that they are vain who are
praised, and they false who praise. Some flatter and are
184 LETTER XVIII.
deceptive, others praise what they think deserving, and are
deceived ; others pride themselves in the commendations
which are addressed to them, and are vain. The only wise
man is he who says with the Apostle : / forbear, lest any
man should think of me above that which he secth me to be
or t/,a - lie hearcth of me (2 Cor. xii. 6).
4. For the present I have noted down these things too
hastily (because of this in not so finished a way), rather
than dictated them for you, perhaps also at greater length
than I should, but to the best of my poor ability. But that
my letter may finish at the point whence it began, I beg
you not to be too credulous of uncertain rumour about me,
which, as you know well, is accustomed to be wrong both
in giving praise and in attaching blame. Be so kind, if you
please, as to weigh your praises, and examine with care
how far your friendship for me and your favour are well-
founded, thus they will be the more acceptable from my
friend as they are fitted to my humble merit. Thus when
praise hhall have proceeded from grave judgment, and not
from the error of the vulgar, if it is more moderate it will
be at the same time more easy to bear. I assure you that
what attaches me (humble person as I am), to you is the
zeal, industry, and sincerity with which you employ your
self, as they say, in the accomplishment of your charge in
holy things. May it be always thus with you that this may
be said of you always with truth. I send you the book
which you desire to have in order to copy ; as for the other
treatises of mine which you wish that I should send, they
are but few, and contain nothing which I should think
worthy of your attention, yet because I should prefer that
my want of intelligence should be blamed rather than my
goodwill, and I would rather endanger my inexperience
than my obedience in your sight, be so good as to let me
know by the present messenger which of my treatises you
wish that I should send you, so that I may ask for them
again from those persons to whom they have been lent, and
send them wherever you shall direct. That you may know
what you wish for, I may say that I have written a little
LETTER XIX. 185
took on Humility, four Homilies on the Praises of the
Virgin Mother (for the little book has this title), upon that
passage of S. Luke where it is said the Angel Gabriel was
sent (S. Luke i. 26). Also an Apology dedicated to a certain
friend 1 of mine, in which I have treated of some of our
observances, that is to say, those of Citeaux, and those of
Cluny. I have also written a few Letters to various persons,
.and finally, there are some of my discourses which the
brethren who heard them have reproduced in their own
words and keep them in their hands. Would that any of
Ihe simple productions of mv humble powers might be of
.any service to you, but I do not dare to expect it.
LETTER XIX. (Circa A.D. 1127.)
To THF, SAME.
He coin-mends the deputies- from Rhcims.
It is the time for me to ask the fulfilment of your promise,
so as to prove that I have not been wrong in putting all my
confidence in you, since I have had the honour to make your
.acquaintance and obtain your friendship. Be assured that
I shall regard as done to myself whatever assistance you are
able to give to these deputies from Rheims. I venture to
make this request, not because I think myself of so great
importance, but because you have made me the promise.
\\ hether you have done well, it is for you to see.
1 This was William, Abbot of Saint Thierry, and the Apology will be found
in a subsequent volume.
- Mabillon says : I find nothing in Marlot about this deputation. Perhaps it
was sent to Honorius to obtain of him the Pallium for Raynald de Martini,
who had been translated from the See of Angers to that of Rheims, in 1124.
But the following Letter speaks of another matter.
* LETTER XX.
LETTER XX. (Circa A.D. 1127.)
To HAIMKRIC, THK CHAXCELLOR, ox THE SAME SUBJECT.
To the illustrious Lord HAIMERIC, Chancellor of the Holy
Roman See, Brother BERXARD, of Clairvaux, health and
prayers.
Since I have once begun, permit me to speak to you,
even though I shall make myself importunate; but importu
nate for charity, truth, and justice. For although I am not of
sufficient importance to have at Rome business of my own,
yet I do not regard any of the affairs of God as things in
which I have no concern. Wherefore, if I have with you
still the favour which many people suppose, permit me to
beg you to forward the deputies of the Lord Archbishop of
Rheims in their present business. I am sure that they
neither resist for themselves nor ask from another anything
but what is just.
LETTER XXI. (Towards the end of A.D. 1 127.)
To MATTHEW. THE LEGATE. 1
He excuses himself very ski/fully for not having obeyed
the summons to take part hi settling certain affairs.
I. My heart was, indeed, prepared to obey; not so my
body. It was burned up by the heats of an acute and
violent fever, and exhausted by sweats, so that it was too
weak to carry out the impulse of the spirit. I wished,
then, to go, but my good will was hindered by the obstacle
which I have mentioned. Whether this was truly so, let
my friends themselves judge, who, disregarding every
1 He was born of noble parents in the province of Rheims. He became a
canon of Rheims, then a monk of the Order of Cluny in the Monastery of S.
Martin des Champs, Paris ; at length Bishop of Albano, and was created
Cardinal by Honorius II. in ti25, and being sent into France as Legate pre
sided over the Council at Troves in 1 1 28. which was assembled by his
authority; and Bernard was obliged to attend, notwithstanding his unwilling
ness.
LETTER XXI. 187
excuse that I can make, avail themselves of the bonds of
obedience to my superiors to draw me out of my cloister
into cities. I beg them to remark that this reason is not a
pretext of my own invention, but a cause of much suffering
to me; that they may thus learn that no project can pre
vail against the will of God. If I should reply to them,
/ have put off my coat, hou< shall I put it on ? I
hare washed my feet, how shall I defile them ? (Cant. v.
3), they \vould at once be indignant. But now let them
either object to or acquiesce in the ruling of Providence,
for it is that which has brought about, that even if I wish to
go forth, I am not in health to do so.
2. But the cause is great, they say, the necessity weighty.
They must, then, have recourse to some one suitable to
settle great matters. If they think me such an one, I not
only think, but know, that I am not. Furthermore, whether
the matters are great or small, to which they so earnestly
invite me, they are not my concern. Now, I inquire, Are
the matters easy or difficult which you are so anxious to lay
upon your friend, to the troubling of his peace ? If easy,
they can be settled without me ; if difficult, they cannot
be dealt with by me, unless, perhaps, I am so estimated as
to be thought capable of doing what no one else can do,
and for whom great and impossible affairs are to be
reserved. But if it be so, O, Lord my God, how are Thy
designs so frustrated in me only ? Why hast Thou put
under a bushel the lamp, which could shine upon a candle
stick ; or, to speak more plainly, why hast Thou made me
a monk and hidden me in Thy sanctuary during the day of
evil, if I were a man necessary to the world, without whom
bishops are not able to transact their business ? But this,
again, is a service that my friends have done me, that now
I seem to speak with discomposure to a man whom I am
accustomed to think of with serenity, and with the utmost
pleasure. But you know (I say it to you, my father) that so
far from feeling anger, I am prepared to keep your com
mands. But it will be a mark of your indulgence to spare
me whenever you find it possible to do so.
1 88 LETTER XXII.
LETTER XXII. (Before A.D. 1128.)
To HuMBALD, 1 ARCHBISHOP OF LYONS AND LEGATE.
He commends the cause of the Bishop of Meaux.
To the most Reverend Lord and Father HUMBALD, Arch
bishop of Lyons and Legate of the Roman See, Brother
BERNARD, Abbot of Clairvaux, health and all that the prayers
of a sinner can avail on his behalf.
The Lord Bishop of Meaux 2 was on his road to visit us, as
it happened, when he received your letter. Since he
wished to reply before leaving us, he begged me to join in
a letter with him, in the hope that as I have the honour to be
known to you, it might help to forward his business. I
could not deny what he wished, and have thought it well to
make this known to your Reverence in a few friendlv
words : because if you shall listen to the complaints of
men who love only their own selves, and seek those things
that are their own, against a Bishop who regards only those
that are of Jesus Christ, it will be agreeable neither to your
duty nor to your office.
LETTER XXIII. (Circa A.D. 1128.)
To ATTO, BISHOP OF TROVES.
Bishop At to Jiad, in a sickness which lie believed mortal,
distributed all his goods to the poor. When he was restored
to health, Bernard writes to console him, and praises
wliat he had done. 3
To a poor Bishop, a poor abbot, wishes health and that
he may attain the reward of poverty, which is the kingdom
of heaven.
1 Ordericus calls him Humbert, and others Ilumbaud. From Archdeacon of
Autun he became Archbishop of Lyons, and at the beginning of the Pontificate
of Honorius II. was joined in the function of Legate with Cardinal Peter de
Fontaines.
2 This was without doubt Burchard, not Manasses II., his successor.
3 Hato, or Atto, is thought to have been a Cluniac monk. But this was
apparently not so. He seems to have lived long after the incident here referred
to, and died at length at Cluny in A.D. 1 145.
LETTER XXIII. 189
i. I should praise you, and rightly, did not that saying-
restrain me, Praise no man before his death (Ecclus. xi.
28). It is certain that you have done a thing worthy of
praise : but the praise is to be ascribed to Him, from whom
you have received both to will and to do what is praise
worthy. We glorify God, therefore, by you and working in
you ; who also has willed to be glorified in you, only that He
may render you glorious also. Who, since He is glorious
in His Majesty, deigns to appear glorious in His Saints
also, that He may not have glory alone. For although He
Himself is sufficient unto Himself in an infinity of glory,
yet He seeks glory also in His Saints, not that His own
may be increased, but that He may partake it with them.
For He knows them that are His : but we do not easily
know them except He shall deign to reveal them to us. 1
know, indeed, of what kind of men it was written : They
are not in the trouble of men, and shall not be plagued
Kith men (Ps. Ixxiii. 5). I know without doubt that those
words do not concern you. I know also that it is written
again, Whom the Lord loveth He chaste net li , and sconrgeth
every son whom He receiveth (Prov. iii. 12, and Hebrews
xii. 6), and when I see you stricken and thereby amended,
can 1 infer anything else than that you are of the number of
His children ? I do not wish for a clearer proof that He
has corrected you than your very poverty itself. A noble
title is that of poverty, which God Himself commands by
the mouth of the Prophet, saying, / am a man who sees my
poverty (Lam. iii. I, VULG.). 1 This title ennobles you
more, and renders you more illustrious, than all the treasures
of the kings of the earth.
2. I know that I have set down out of Scripture
just now that a man is not to be praised during his life.
But how can I refrain from the praise of him who no longer
runs after gold, and who disdains to put his confidence in
the treasures of the world ? Of such a man Scripture thus
speaks : Who is lie and we 10 ill call him blessed ? For he
1 The A.V. more literally, affliction. S. Bernard enlarges on this subject in
Ser. 2 de Ccena Domini. [E.]
LETTER XXIII.
has done wonderful things in his life (Ecclus. xxxi. 8,9).
Perhaps man, indeed, is not to be praised during his life,
inasmuch as it is a struggle upon the earth ; yet ought he
not to be praised when he is dead unto sin and lives unto
God ? That praise is indeed vain and seductive which is
addressed to a sinner in his passions ; whosoever calls him
happy leads him into error, but will not the life of him who
is able to say, I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me (Gal.
ii. 20) be praiseworthy and much to be commended ?
When, then, a man is praised in whom not himself, but
Christ, lives, he is praised, not in his own life, but in the life
of Christ, and because of this he is not praised against the
Scripture which forbids a man to be praised in his life.
Why, then, shall he not be worthy of my praises of whom
God deigns to accept the praises to His Name ? As David
says, the poor and needy shall give praise unto Thy Name
(Ps. Ixxiv. 21).
3. Job is praised because he bore the loss of his goods
patiently, and shall a Bishop not be praised who has both
parted with them of his own accord, and distributed them
liberally ? He has not waited until death came, when he
would have it in his power neither to give nor to retain
anything : which many do, whose testament has no force
until they have ceased to live, but while still placed between
the hope of life and fear of death, it was then that in life,
and with goodwill, he shared his goods among the poor,
that his righteousness might remain for ever and ever (Ps.
cxii. 9). Would the money itself have remained similarly
for ever and ever ? Good is the recompense of righteous
ness for money when in exchange for that which could not
be held fast. A price is given which remains happily for
ever, for righteousness is incomparably better than money,
because the one enriches and fills only the chest, but the
other the soul. Then the priests of God are clothed with
righteousness, and thus far more richly and becomingly
than in robes of gold or silk.
4. But render thanks to God who has inspired in you
LETTER XXIII.
IQ1
a glorious contempt of the transitory glory belonging to
these things, and at the same time stricken you with a
salutary fear of the peril to your soul. O, wonderful good
ness of God towards you ! He has made you have trial of
death so that you might not die ; and made you fear it, to
preserve you from its stroke. This He has done, so that
your goods might not be dearer to you than yourself. A
devouring fear was raging in the very marrow of your
bones, and hindering the relief of perspiration, the disease
grew graver day by day. And now the limbs without
grow cold, while within burned a devouring fire which
wasted the viscera, already exhausted by long deprivation
of nourishment. Speedily the pale and doleful image of
death was before your eyes. But behold a voice, as it
were from heaven, was heard : / am He i^lw destroys (not
thee, but) thy iniquities (Is. xliii. 25) ; and speedily when
the priest of God had distributed all his goods to the poor,
that as a poor man he might die, suddenly the sweat long
unhoped-for burst forth from all its fountains ; health
came back equally both to body and soul, and clearly
showed that what God promises in Scripture had been
fulfilled in you: I kill and I make al he ; I wound and I heal ;
neitJier is tlicre any that can deliver out of My hand
(Deut. xxxii. 39). He has stricken the flesh to save the
soul; He has slain avarice that you might live unto
righteousness. Now that you are restored to life and
health, we hope that none will be able to snatch you from
the hands of God, provided that you do not lose sight of
that counsel in the Gospel : Behold thoit art made whole ;
sin no more lest a icorsc tiling come unto thee (S. John v.
14). And if thy kind Father forewarns thee of this, it is
because He does not desire it to happen ; because he
willeth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he should
be converted and live. And rightly. For what advantage
would there be in the death of a sinner? The grave will
not confess God, nor will death praise Him ; but you who
are living, do you bless the Lord and say : I shall not die, but
IQ2 LETTKK XXIII.
live and declare the works of the Lord ; tJiou hast thrust
sore at ie that I migh t fall , but the Lord helped me (Ps..
cxviii. 17, 13).
LETTER XXIV. (Circa A.D. 1 130.)
To GILBERT, BISHOP OF LONDON, UNIVERSAL DOCTOR. r
He praises Gilbert , u ho practised poverty in the station
of Bishop.
The report of your conduct has spread far and wide, and
has given to those whom it has reached an odour of great
sweetness. The love of riches is extinct ; what sweetness
results ! charity reigns ; what a delight to all ! All recog
nize you for a truly wise man, who has trodden under foot
the great enemy with true wisdom; and this is most worthy
of your name and of your priesthood. It was fitting that
your special 3 philosophy should shine forth by such a proof,
and that you should crown all your distinguished learning
by such a completion. That is the true and unquestionable
wisdom which contemns filthy lucre and judges it a thing
unworthy [that philosophy should] dwell under the same
roof as the service of idols. That the Magister Gilbert
should become a bishop was not a great thing; but
that a Bishop of London should embrace a life of
poverty, 3 that is, indeed, grand. For the greatness of
the dignity could not add glory to your name ; but
the humility of poverty has highly exalted it. To bear
1 He was so called because he was acquainted with and excelled in all
branches of the learning of that time, as Bernard writes in this place. Before
becoming bishop he had been Canon of Autun, and the Necrology of that
Church records that " on the 4th August there died Magister Gilbert, of
venerable memory, a distinguished commentator on the Old and New Testa
ment, canon of this Church, and afterwards Bishop of London. Besides other
ornaments for this Church which he sent out of England, he presented to the
same Church 82 pounds," etc. He was 1 ishop of London from A.D. 1128 to
A.D. 1133.
2 Otherwise, spiritual.
3 Henry of Huntingdon, however, in a Letter on the Contempt of the World,
preserved in the Spicilegium, Book viii., attributes this to a feeling of avarice-
on the part of Gilbert.
LETTER XXIV. 193
poverty with an equal mind, that is the virtue of patience ;
to seek it of one s own accord is the height of wisdom. He
is praised and regarded as admirable who does not go out
of his way after money ; and shall he who renounces it have
no higher praise ? Unless that clear reason sees nothing to
be wondered at in the fact that a wise man acts wisely; and
he is wise who having acquired all the science of the learned
of this world, and having great enjoyment in acquiring them,
has studied all the Scriptures so as to make their meaning
new again. What then ? You have dispersed, you have
given to the poor, but money. But what is money to that
righteousness which you have gained for it ? His righteous
ness, it is said, endureth for ever (Ps. cxii. 9). Is it so
with money ? Then it is a desirable and honourable ex
change to give that which passes away for that which
endures. May it be granted to you always so to purchase,
O, admirable and praiseworthy Magister ! It remains that
your noble beginning should attain an ending worthy of it ;
and the tail of the victim be joined to the head. 1 I have
gladly received your benediction, which the perfectness of
your virtue renders the more precious to me. The bearer
of this letter, though exceedingly respectable for his own
sake, I desire to commend for my sake also, to your Great
ness. He is exceedingly dear to me for his goodness and
piety.
LETTER XXV. (A.D. 1130.)
To HUGO, ARCHBISHOP OF RouEN. 3
He exhorts Hugo to strive to be patient and peaceable
among his Rouennais, and at the same time to temper his
zeal with discretion.
i. If malice grows every day, yet let it not prevail; if it is
boisterous, let it not trouble your peace. The waves of the
1 A familiar phrase with Bernard to signify perseverance; from Levit. iii. 7.
See the notes to Letter 78. Peter Cellensis, Book v. i, Letter 8, says : Beware of
the tail ; it is only in the tail, that is in the end of things, that praise or blame
can be awarded.
2 Respecting his election, which took place in A.D. 1130, there is extant a
Letter of the Ckrgy of Rouen to Pope Honorius II. (Spici/eg. B. iii. p.
VOL. I. 13
IQ4 LETTER XXV.
sea are mighty, but the Lord in heaven is mightier, and the
mercy from on high has dwelt with you, illustrious father,
as you know, with extreme goodness even until now. For
by a kindly Providence you are no sooner set to preside
over sinners than you are associated with the good and
pious, by whose example and company you may become
good, and so may be able to dwell in the midst of sinners
without ceasing to be righteous. And, indeed, to be
righteous among the righteous assures salvation, but to be
so among sinners assures also praise. The one is easy and
sure, the other as meritorious as difficult. For the task is
as it were to touch pitch and not to be defiled therewith, to
walk in fire without being injured, and in the shadows
without being dark. The Egyptians formerly were in dark
ness that might be felt, while of the people of God the
Scripture says Wheresoever Israel was it was light (Exod.
x. 23). David was a true Israelite, and, therefore, spoke
with preciseness that he dwelt not "in Cedar," but with the
dwellers in Cedar (Ps. cxx. 5), and as one who habitually
dwelt in the light, although his bodily abode was with the
dwellers in Cedar [Kedar]. Wherefore also he blames
certain persons as not being true Israelites, because they
were mingled among the heathen and learned their works,
and it became a snare unto them (Ps. cvi. 35, 36).
2. I say, then, that it was sufficient when you were at
Cluny to keep yourself innocent, as it is written, With an
innocent man Thou shalt be innocent (Ps. xvii. 26, VULG.).
But now that you are among the Rouennais (otherwise, at
Rouen] you have need of patience, as the Apostle teaches :
The servant of the Lord must not strive, but be patient
towards all (2 Tim. ii. 24). Nor must he be only patient, so
151) in which these words occur: "We have chosen with one voice for
Bishop our [your?] son Hugo, Abbot of Reading. He was first a monk at
Cluny, then first Abbot of Reading, in England, in the Diocese of Salisbury."
In the same Letter is added : " Upon which we have sought and obtained the
consent of our Lord Henry, King of the English, from the Bishop of Salisbury,
also under whose charge he discharged his office of abbot, we requested his
return to us free and discharged from obligation," etc. Ordericus mentions his
election B. i 2 adjinem.
LETTER XXVI. 195
as not to be overcome of evil, but also pacific, to overcome
evil with good. The one that you may bear with evil per
sons, the other that you may do good to those whom you
thus bear with. In your patience possess your soul
(S. Luke xxi. 19), but be also pacific, that you may have
control also over the souls committed to you. What so
great glory as to be able to say, With those who hated peace
I was pacific (Ps. cxx. 7). Be, then, patient, because you
are among evil men ; be pacific, because you have such to
govern. Let your charity be zealous, but moderate your
severity for a time. Censure should, indeed, never be alto
gether foregone, but it may often be profitably intermitted.
The vigour of justice should be always keen, but never
precipitate. As not everything that is pleasing is per
missible, so not everything permissible is expedient. You
know all this better than I, and, therefore, I do not insist
farther. I beg you to pray for me earnestly, because I do
not cease to fall into sin.
LETTER XXVI. (Circa A.D. 1130.)
To GUY, BISHOP OF LAUSANNE.
You have undertaken great things ; you have need of
courage. You have become a watcher for the house of
Israel ; you have need of prudence. You are a debtor both
to the wise and unwise ; you have need of righteousness.
Lastly, you have, above all, need of temperance and self-
control, so that one who has preached to others may not
become (which may God forbid !) a reprobate.
LETTER XXVII. (Circa A.D. 1135.)
To ARDUTIO (OR ARDUTIUS), BISHOP ELECT OF GENEVA.
He warns him that he must attribute his election to the
grace of God, and strive thenceforth faithfully to co
operate with it.
196 LETTER XXVII.
I am glad to believe that your election, which I have
heard was effected with so complete an assent both of the
clergy and people, was from God. I congratulate you on
His grace, and I do not speak of your merits, since we
ought not to render to you excessive praise, but to re
cognize that, not because of works of righteousness which
you have done, but according to His mercy He has done
this for you. If you (which may God forbid !) should think
otherwise, your exaltation will be to your ruin. But if you
acknowledge it to be of grace, see that you receive it not
in vain. Make your actions and your desires good, and
your ministry holy ; and if sanctity of life has not preceded,
let it at least follow your elevation. Then I shall acknow
ledge that you have been prevented with the blessings of
grace, and shall hope that after these you will receive still
better graces. I shall be in joy and gladness that a good
and faithful servant has been set over the family of the
Lord, and you shall come to be as a son powerful and
happy, meet to be set over all the good things of the
Father. Otherwise, if it delights you to be in higher place
rather in holier mind, I shall expect to see, not your
reward, but your destruction. I hope, and pray God, that
it may not be thus with you ; and am prepared, if there is
need, to render my aid, as far as in me lies, to assist you in
whatever you think proper and expedient.
LETTER XXVIII. (In the Same Year.)
To THE SAME, WHEN BISHOP.
He exhorts him to adorn the dignity which he had ob
tained without preceding merits, by a holy life.
I. Charity gives me boldness, my very dear friend, to
speak to you with great confidence. The episcopal seat which
you have lately obtained requires a man of many merits ;
and I see with grief none of these in you, or at least not
sufficient, to have preceded your elevation. For your mode
LETTER XXVIII. IQ7
of life and your past occupations seem in nowise to have
been befitting the episcopal office. What then ? Would you
say, Is not God able of this stone to raise up a son of
Abraham ? Is not God able to bring about that the good
works which ought to have gone before my episcopate may
follow it ? Certainly He is, and I desire nothing better
than this, if it should be so. I know not why, but that
sudden change wrought by the right hand of the Highest
will please me more than if the merits of your former life
pleaded for you. Then I could say, This is the Lord s doing ;
it is marvellous in our eyes (Ps. cxviii. 23). So Paul, from
a persecutor, became the Doctor of the Gentiles ; so
Matthew was called from the toll-booth, so Ambrose was
taken from the palace, the one to the Episcopate, the other
to the Apostolate. So I have known many others who
have been usefully raised to the Episcopate, from the
habits and pursuits of secular life. How many times it has
been the case that where sin abounded, grace also did
much more abound ?
2. So then, my dear friend, encouraged by these examples
and others like them, gird up your loins, and make your
actions and pursuits henceforth good ; let your latest
actions make the old forgotten, and the correction of
your mature life blot out the demerits of your youth.
Take care to imitate Paul in honouring your ministry. You
will render it honourable by gravity of manners, by wise
plans, by honourable actions. It is these which most
ennoble and adorn the Episcopal office. Do nothing without
taking counsel, yet not of all, nor of the first comer, but of
good men. Have good men in your confidence, in your
service, dwelling in your house, who may be at once the
guardians and the witnesses of your honourable life. For
in this you will approve yourself a good man if you have
the testimony of the good. I commend to your piety my
poor brethren who are in your diocese, especially those of
Bonnemont, in the Alps, and of Hautecombe. By your
bounty towards these I shall see what degree of affection
you have for me.
198 LETTER XXIX.
LETTER XXIX. (Circa A.D. 1126.)
To STEPHEN, BISHOP OF METz. 1
He congratulates Stephen on the restored peace of the
Church, -which he says is due only to the bounty of God.
To STEPHEN, by the Grace of God, the strenuous minister
of the Church of Metz, his humble brethren in Christ from
Clairvaux, wish health and assure him of their prayers.
From the day when, if you remember, you deigned to
associate yourself with our community, and to commend
yourself humbly to our prayers, I have always been
anxious, as I ought, to know something of your state, and
have frequently inquired as I was able respecting your
welfare, from those who could inform me, earnestly de
siring and praying that your work and all your undertakings
might be prospered in God, and your steps directed in the
path of His commandments. I bless God who has not
rejected my prayer nor turned His mercy from you, who
has made me glad by the coming of this venerable brother
William, in whom I have not less confidence than in myself,
and who has informed us of your good health and prosperity,
and of the restoration of peace to your Church by your
means. I congratulate you upon it, but I render glory to
God, knowing that all you are able to do is of Him, and
not of yourself. Which also I venture as a friend to warn
you always to keep before your mind, that you may not fall
into a kind of powerlessness either to be or to do anything,
if you should think otherwise, and attribute to your own
merits or powers (which God forbid) the least of your
successes. Otherwise it is to be feared that your peace
will be turned into trouble, your prosperity into adversity,
by a just judgment of Him who is accustomed to resist the
1 He succeeded to the See in A.D. 1120, on the deposition of Adalbero, the
fourth Bishop of Metz of that name, as I find in the abridged annals of S.
Vincent, at Metz, adjusted to the Paschal Cycle, in which Stephen is related to
have died on 2gth Dec., A.D. 1 163. Bernard makes grave complaints of him in
Letters 177 and 178.
LETTER XXX. 199
proud, but give grace unto the humble ; who not only is
holy with the holy, but perverse with the perverse man, as
we read in the Psalm (Ps. xviii. 26), who not only makes
peace, but creates evil, as is described by the Prophet
(Is. xlv. 7).
LETTER XXX. (Circa A.D. 1126.)
To ALBERO, PRIMICERIUS OF METZ. 1
He warns Albero to wait God s good time for the com
pletion of a certain business which he was hurrying on,
and that He requires us rather to do good for a good
reason than from an interested motive.
To the very honourable ALBERO, by the Grace of God
Primicerius of the Church of Metz, the brethren who serve
God to the best of their power at Clairvaux, health and
their prayers.
We have formerly heard and seen, and now have expe
rienced for ourselves, your faithful zeal in the things of
God. But although you were favourable and your Bishop
gave prompt assent to the things proposed to him by the
brethren whom we last sent to you, after your counsel :
as our first duty is to know God s good pleasure in all things,
1 Mabillon observes : I find three persons of the same name who have borne
one after the other this title at this epoch. I believe that this Letter is addressed
to the second Albero, who became later on Archbishop of Treves. Bernard had
much affection for him, and it was on his behalf that the Letters 176-180 were
written.
The title Primicerius is generally derived from qui in prima cerd hceres
scrip/us, and hence it denoted the chief in any department. It was used in
Italian Cathedrals especially, i. In the abbey of Monte Casino it denoted the
chief over the scriptorium where MSS. were copied. 2. The chief of the
Canlovum Schola, founded by Pope Hilarius, and extended by Pope Gregory
the Great, for the improvement of singing. Similarly at Aberdeen Cathedral
the precentor was called by that title, and in other cathedrals it denoted the chief
chanter; 3. A chief notary; 4. The Chancellor of a Cathedral; 5. In the
Church of S. Stephen, at Metz, the title was given to the first of the canons,
who was privileged (among other marks of honour) to wear a cross on the
breast, to use a purple vestment, and to take the chief place in choir and
chapter. [From Mabillon (and elsewhere). E.]
200 LETTER XXXI.
especially in matters of religion, and to know what is His
good pleasure in that matter, we have thought it advisable,
as was agreed between our brethren and your Bishop, not
to abandon, but to defer until after the harvest (that time
being convenient in itself and for you), the execution of a
design of which your assistance prepares and facilitates
the progress, and your help will bring, as soon as possible,
to an honourable conclusion. But now if your Bishop, and
you yourself, are still in the same mind as before, we have
still more confidence that it is the will of God, and that
there is nothing better to do than what you propose. So
that we hope to satisfy your pious desire (which is shared
by us also) according as it was determined on. I think
that to be accepted by God, we ought to study as much as
in us lies, to be burdensome to no one, that it may not
seem that we (which may God forbid) seek His glory less
than our own interests ; and especially that it would not be
pleasing to God, nor would be in accordance with our
manner of life, to make ourselves troublesome to you when
there is no need for an occasion of that kind ; nor to with
draw you from your other greater and more pressing occu
pations.
LETTER XXXI. (A.D. 1125.)
To Huco, 1 COUNT OF CHAMPAGNE, WHO HAD BECOME
A KNIGHT OF THE TEMPLE.
He congratulates Hugo on having entered into a military
Order, and promises remembrance of his benefits.
If for the cause of God you have, from being Count,
become a simple soldier, and from a rich man have become
1 He was son of Theobald III., Count of Champagne. Hugo showed
extreme munificence towards religious houses in general, and especially towards
the monasteries of Moustier Ramey and Molesme. He was at first Count of
Bar sur Aube, then of Troyes, after the death of his brother Eudes. But having
suppressed the names of those counties when uniting them in his own person,
he was the cause that his successors took the title of Counts of Champagne in
lieu of that of Counts of Bar sur Aube and Troyes, which they had hitherto
LETTER XXXI. 2OI
a poor one, I congratulate you in the first place as is right,
and in you I glorify God, knowing that this is the work of
the Right Hand of the Most High. But I do not, I confess,
anticipate without great regret being deprived, by the
secret Providence of God, of your valued presence, and
never more seeing you, in whose company I would wish
always to be, were it possible. What then ? Can I forget
your friendship of old standing, and the benefits which you
have so liberally bestowed upon our House? 1 May God
borne (Frai^ois ChifHet). He went three times on pilgrimage to the Holy Land
the first time in A.D. 1113. the second in A.D. 1121, and the third when he
joined the Order of the Templars, which was in A.D. 1125 (Alberic, Chronicle).
When about to undertake this voyage beyond the sea, if Peter Pithon is to be
believed (says ChifHet), he sold his county to Theobald, son of his brother
Stephen, disinherited his son Eudes, and left enceinte his second wife, whom he
had married after his marriage with Constance, daughter of Philip I., King of
France, had been dissolved because of consanguinity in 1 104. He died beyond
the sea on the I4th June.
This Hugo is another person from Hugo, Master of the Knights of the
Temple, to whom Bernard directed his exhortation Ad Milites Templi.
1 It was Count Hugo who had given to Bernard and his monks the district of
Clairvaux and its dependencies, and may merit to be called by the name of their
Founder. As that fact has hitherto been noticed but by few, we give here the
deed of donation itself, of which we owe the publication to ChifHet, whom we
have already had often occasion to quote. He has copied it from the autograph
at Clairvaux, and first published it in his Dissertation :
" In Nomine Sanctae et Individuae Trinitatis incipit charta Comitis Hugonis.
Notum sit omnibus praesentibus et futuris, quod ego Comes Trecensis, Do Deo,
et beatae Mariae et fratribus Clarae Vallis, locum ipsum qui vocatur Clara- Vallis,
cum pertinentiis agris, pratis, vineis, silvis et aquis, nihil omnino mihi aut
hseredibus meis retinens. Unde testes Acardus Remensis et Petrus, et Robertus
Aurelianensis milites mei. Et sciendum quod Gaufridus Felonia dat pasturas
suas in finagio de Juvencourt, tarn in bosco quam in piano, omni tempore : et
si aliquod damnum intulerint animalia dictorum fratrum, solum capitale
restituetur sine emenda. Haec autem omnia dedi in praesentia supradictorum
testium. Sciendum quoque est, quod dominus Josbertus de Firmitate, cog-
nomine Rufus, et dominus Rainaudus de Perceris dederunt eisdem fratribus
pasturam et usuarium per totam terrain suam, et praecipue in aquis, silvis,
pratis, in finagio de Perrecin. Hujus rei testes sunt Acardus Remensis et
Robertus milites mei. Item sciendum quoque est, quod ego Hugo Comes
Trecensis laudo et concedo eisdem fratribus libere et quiete possidere terram et
silvam de Aretela. Has donationes confirmamus ego Joscerannus Lingonensis
Episcopus, et ego Hugo Comes Trecensis de sigillo et annulo meo."
As to the year of foundation, which is not specified in this deed, ChifHet, fol
lowing the Chronograph of S. Marianus, of Auxerre, refers it to June A.D. 1 114.
202 LETTER XXXII.
Himself, for whose love you have done this, hold you in
perpetual remembrance. Nor will we be ungrateful, but
will keep in mind the recollection of your great kindness,
and will show it, if possible, in our actions. O, how
willingly would I have provided for the needs both of your
body and of your soul, if it had been granted to us to pass
our lives together ! But as that is not possible, it only
remains to assure you that though we cannot have you
present with us, we shall always pray for you in your
absence.
LETTER XXXII. (Circa A.D. 1120.)
To THE ABBOT OF SAINT NICASIUS AT RHEiMS. 1
He consoles this abbot for the departure of the Monk
Drogo and his transfer to another monastery, and exhorts
him to patience.
i. How much I sympathize with your trouble only He
knows who bore the griefs of all in His own body. How
All agree as to the month; as to the year, the documents, both domestic and
from external sources, seem to negative it, and among others the Exordium
C is ter dense (Dist. ii. cap i), also the tablet attached to the tomb of S. Bernard,
plainly say A.U. 1115. It seemed better, therefore, to adhere to the opinion long
since received, considering that Bernard had scarcely made his profession in
June, 1114, and Hugo himself, who made the grant, was still occupied in the
East. Clairvaux was then founded by Hugo, Count of Champagne, and trans
ferred in 1 135 to a larger site with the aid of Count Theobald, his successor, and
new buildings erected. Wherefore some have given him the name of the first
founder, confounding the removal with the foundation.
1 Drogo, respecting whom Letters 32-34 were written, seems not to
have persevered in the Cistercian Order, from whence he was recalled at length
before making profession by the importunate complaints of his Abbot, Jorannus,
to whom this Letter. He seems to have been the same who, when the monks
were expelled from the convent of S. John, at Laon, led thither a company of
monks, over whom from being Prior of S. Nicasius, at Rheims, he was set as
their first abbot in 1 1 28, as appears from Letter 48. Later on he was made
Cardinal and Bishop of Ostia by Innocent II. in 1136 (as our Acherius proves
in his notes toGuibert). He died in i 138.
As for the Abbot Jorannus, how the Convent of S. Nicasius flourished under
his rule is shown by the number of distinguished men who went out from it to
carry far and wide its rule and discipline. For, besides this Drogo, Geoffrey,
LETTER XXXII. 203
willingly would I advise you if I knew what to say, or help
you if I were able, as efficaciously as I would wish that
He who knows and can do all things should advise and
assist me in all my necessities. If brother Drogo had con
sulted me about leaving your house I should by no means
have agreed with him ; and now that he has left, if he were
to apply to enter into mine I should not receive him. All
that I was able to do in those circumstances I have done for
you, and have written, 1 as you know, to the abbot who
has received him. After this, reverend father, what is
there more that I am able to do on your behalf ?
And as regards yourself, your Holiness knows well with me
that men are accustomed to be perfected not only in hope,
but also to glory in tribulation. The Scripture consoles
them, saying: The furnace proveth the potter s vessels, and
temptation the righteous man (Ecclus. xxvii. 6, VULG.) ;
The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a contrite heart
(Ps. xxxiv. 1 8); and We must through much tribulation
enter into the kingdom of God (Acts xiv. 21) ; and All who
will live godly in Christ suffer persecution (2 Tim. iii. 12).
Yet none the less ought we to sympathize with our friends
whom we see placed in care and grief ; because we do not
know what will be the issue of such, and fear lest it may be
for ill ; since whilst, indeed, to saints and the elect tribulation
worketh patience, patience experience, experience hope,
and hope maketh not ashamed (Rom. v. 3-5), to the con-
demnable and reprobate, on the contrary, tribulation causes
discouragement, and discouragement confusion, and con
fusion despair, which destroys them.
and after him William, were chosen Abbots of S. Thierry, at Rheims. Simon
was Abbot of S. Nicholas clu Bois, in the Diocese of Laon, to whom Letters 83 and
84 were addressed ; Arnulf at Gembloux, as the Auctarium of that monastery
bears witness. As for Jorannus himself, induced by his love of solitude, he
entered the Carthusian Order in the Monastery of Mons Dei A.D. 1138, where he
so distinguished himself that Pope Innocent II. made him Cardinal, but since,
when this Letter was written, Robert, the relative of S. Bernard, had not yet been
restored to him, as the holy Doctor here asserts, it follows that its date should
be about A.D. 1 120.
1 This Letter is lost, as appears from the following, in which some parts of it
are quoted.
204 LETTER XXXII.
2. In order, then, that this dreadful tempest may not
submerge you, nor the frightful abyss swallow you up, and
the unfathomable pit shut her mouth upon you, employ all
the efforts of your prudence not to be overcome of evil, but
to overcome evil with good. You will overcome if you fix
solidly your hope in God, and wait patiently the issue of the
affair. If that monk shall return to a sense of his duty,
whether for fear of you, or because of his own painful con
dition, well and good ; but if not, it is good for you to
humble yourself under the mighty hand of God, nor to wish
uselessly to resist His supreme ordering; because if it is
of God it cannot be undone. You should rather endeavour
to repress the sparkles of your indignation, however just,
by a reflection which a certain saint is said in a similar case
to have uttered. For when some of his monks were mixing
demands with bitter reproaches because he did not require
back again a fugitive who had fled to another monastery in
defiance of his authority, " By no means," he said, " where
soever he may be, if he is a good man, he is mine."
3. I should be wrong to counsel you thus, if I did not
oblige myself to act thus. For when one of my brethren,
not only a professed religious, but also nearly akin to me, 1
was received and retained at Cluny against my will I was
afflicted, indeed, but endured it in silence, praying both for
them that they might be willing to return the fugitive, and
for him, that he might be willing of his own accord to
return ; but if not, leaving the charge of my vengeance to
Him who shall render judgment to the patient and contend
in equity for the meek of the earth. Please to warn
Brother Hugo, of Lausanne, with your own mouth, and as
from me, not to believe every spirit, and not to be induced
rashly to desert the certain for the uncertain. Let him
remember that perseverance alone is always attacked by
the devil, because it is the only virtue which has the assur
ance of being crowned. It will be safer for him simply to
persevere in the vocation wherein he is called than to
1 This was Robert, to whom Letter I. was addressed.
LETTER XXXIII. 205
renounce it under the pretext of a life more perfect, at the
risk of not being found equal to that which he had the pre
sumption to attempt.
LETTER XXXIII. (Circa A.D. 1 120.)
To HUGO, ABBOT OF PONTIGNY.
He "writes more plainly his views about the reception
of Drogo, and removes unfavourable suspicion from
himself.
To his very dear brother, Hugo, Lord Abbot, Brother
Bernard, of Clairvaux, health and all that he desires for
himself.
i. In my former letter I, as far as I can understand from
yours, wrote less clearly than I wished, or you understood it
otherwise than you ought. When I spoke of the conse
quences that might follow to you from the reception of
that monk, I truly feared, and fear still, as I wrote. But in
writing to you thus I had no intention of persuading you or
giving you advice ; nor certainly, as you write, did I think
that he ought to be sent back, since I have long known his
very strong desire, and I ought rather to congratulate him
that he has now accomplished it. But as his abbot, my
intimate friend, and the Archbishop of Rheims required of
me a letter pressingly demanding him back, in order
that I might take off every suspicion from myself, if it were
possible, I took pains to dictate as well as I could such a
letter, in terms which would both satisfy them and forewarn
you of the reproaches which would be made against you by
them, by not concealing them from you. I believed that
your sagacity would be able to understand my intention in
that letter at once, especially when reading the note which
you remember I placed at the end of it, that it should be
read by you in the same spirit it was written by me. For
after having set out the evils which not unreasonably I
feared for you, I went on : " It is for you to see whether
206 LETTER XXXIII.
you prefer to endure all these things or to send him away ;
the matter does not concern me." These very words were
used by me, or nearly these, and when I wrote thus at the
end, how else could I secretly intimate to you that all that
I had said previously was spoken by way of complaisance,
not to say of pretence ?
2. But as for what you have written, that I should have
charged your messenger to say to the same monk, that if
he wished to enter our Order his absolution should be
privately obtained, I declare to you that it is not true. How
could I suppose or hope that I could receive a monk from a
monastery so well known to me, and whom I did not think
that even you could retain without great scandal ? But let it
be so. Suppose that I envied you that monk, and desired to
attract him to me; and that I was hoping or fancying that I
might be able to do something towards obtaining his abso
lution. But is it for a moment to be believed that I should
be willing to lay open this plan of mine which I had con
cocted against his own monastery to the very messenger
whom you had sent to me ? But to convince you that what
you have believed hitherto concerning my affection towards
you is well founded, I feel myself obliged, for you even more
than for me, to redouble my efforts, as I have done up to the
present, so that our friendship may not altogether be dis
solved, but be made more close and strong. What can I
say to you more? I, at least, could not believe you capable
of such an action, as you have without ground suspected me
of. Concerning another matter, your Blessedness knows
that Count Theobald has received my letter of recommen
dation for Humbert, but he has not as yet replied to me.
What you could do as to this your piety will best suggest,
if you will have the kindness to consider the miserable
state of a man unjustly stricken with exile.
LETTER XXXIV. 207
LETTER XXXIV. (Circa A.D. 1120.)
To DROGO, 1 THE MONK.
He congratulates Drogo on having embraced a more
severe rule, and exhorts him to perseverance.
MY VERY DEAR DROGO,
i. I find more than ever justified the great affection
which I have long felt for you. You appeared to me before
very lovable and accomplished in many things, but I had
felt that there was something in you worthy of higher
admiration than anything that I had seen or heard of you.
Had you already heard the voice of the celestial Spouse, in
whose arms your soul was closely clasped ? Had you heard
His voice saying to your soul, His modest turtle, Thou art
all fair, My love ; there is no spot in thee ? (Cant. iv. 7).
Who would believe that which you have done ? The whole
city is full of talk of your virtues and piety, so that it was
not believed possible that anything could be added to all
your good qualities, and then you, quitting your monastery
as a secular might quit the world, were not ashamed to lay
the burden of new observances and of a more severe Rule
upon your neck, already worn with the yoke of Christ ! In
you now, brother, we verify that saying, When a man hath
arrived at perfection then he beginneth (Ecclus. xviii. 7).
The mark, then, of your perfectness is that you have now
commenced, and in that you did not judge of that you had
attained you prove that you have done so, for no one is
perfect who does not desire to be more perfect, and a man
shows himself more perfect, inasmuch as he aspires to
greater perfection.
2. But behold, my dear friend, he by whose envy death
entered into the world has bent his bow and prepared him
self. Being driven from your heart, he has lost his power
within, and therefore he will rage as much as is in his power
1 In the Colbertine MS., 1410, and in that of Compiegne ad H ug <t- Drag one TO,
although Drogo is used in the body of the Letter. The name is compounded
from that of Hugo, Abbot of Pontigny, with whom Drogo was in great favour.
208 LETTER XXXIV.
without. And, to speak more plainly, do you not know that
the Pharisees are scandalized at what you have done ? But
remember that there are scandals about which one ought
not to be greatly troubled, according to the reply of the
Lord, when He said, Let them alone, they are blind and
leaders of the blind (S. Matt. xv. 14). For would it be
better that a scandal should arise than that the truth should
be abandoned? (Greg. Horn. 7 in Ezekiel). Remember
who it was who was born for the fall and rising again of
many (S. Luke ii. 34), and do not wonder if you, too, are to
some as an odour of life unto life, and to others as an odour
of death unto death. If they have directed maledictions
against you, if they have launched at you darts of anathema,
hear Isaac replying for you, He who shall curse thee shall
be himself cursed, and he who shall bless thee shall be
loaded -with blessings (Gen. xxvii. 29). And you, fortified
by the safe defence of your conscience, reply inwardly and
say, Though a host should encamp against me my heart
shall not fear , although war should rise against me in this
should I hope (Ps. xxvii. 3). For you shall not be con
founded when you speak thus with your enemies in the
gate; but I trust in the Lord that if you stand firm against
the first blows and do not yield either to their promises or
threats, you will speedily bruise Satan under your feet.
Then the righteous shall see and rejoice, and sinners shall
be reduced to silence.
LETTER XXXV. (A.D. 1128.)
To MAGISTER HUGO FARsrr. 1
He commends to him the cause of a certain Humbert,
and -warns him not to blush at retracting a certain
erroneous opinion.
To his very dear brother and co-abbot, Brother BERNARD,
health and assurance of the most sincere affection.
1 I find many of this name about this period. Two monks : the one of Lagny,
who is praised in the sixth book of the Res Diplomatica (p. 585), the other of
S. Lucian of Beauvais, of whom the Necrology makes mention thus : " The
LETTER XXXV.
209
I commend to your protection, with the greatest confi
dence in your goodness, the poor man Humbert, who is said
to have been unjustly disinherited. I have undertaken, for
the love of God, to plead his cause with your Count, and I
hope that you will help me, with the assistance of the Lord
of Heaven, to reconcile him with his earthly prince, so that
he may be restored to his country, his wife and children,
his property and friends; for by taking the trouble to effect
this you will both free from the hands of a sinner a man
who is in distress, and will be labouring at the same time
for the welfare of his oppressor. You will show yourself
helpful to me in no small degree, without mentioning that
by performing the office of a peacemaker you will prepare
for yourself a high place among the children of God. Let
us speak now of another matter. It has been reported to
you, as I hear, that I have thrown into the fire the letter
that your Holiness lately favoured me with. Be so kind as
to believe that I preserve it carefully, for would it not have
been the effect of envy, or rather of madness, rashly to
condemn a work useful and praiseworthy, in which there
was nothing but what was sound in faith, salutary in
doctrine, and tending to spiritual edification ? I ought,
however, to except one passage, because between friends
no timid and dangerous flattery ought to influence them
against the truth. One passage, I confess, troubled and
still troubles me, that in which you endeavoured to sustain
2^th March died Hugo Farsit, a professed monk." It may be the same who is
mentioned in the History of Louvet, p. 555. There was a third Hugo Farsit,
who was Canon Regular of S. John des Vignes, who is praised in the Necrotgi/
of the Church of Soissons. Abaelard mentions a fourth of that name in his
Sermon on S. John Baptist, p. 967, wheie he makes mention of S. Norbert and
of Hugo Farsit, the companion of his Apostolate, perhaps Hugo. Abbot of Pro-
montre and successor over the Order, who was his first and most remarkable
disciple, and to whom Letter 253 was addressed.
I think that he to whom the present Letter was addressed was the same to
whom Hugo Metellus, at that time Canon Regular of Toul in Lorraine,
inscribed Letter 34 of the MS., " To Hugo of Chartres, the venerable Magister."
In fact, Hugo, of whom S. Bernard speaks, was abbot of a monastery situated
on the lands of Theobald, Count of Champagne, at Blois or at Chartres, accord
ing to some writers.
VOL. I.
210 LETTER XXXVI.
and defend in beginning your work an opinion which you
had put forth already in an interview between us respecting
the Sacraments. If you will reflect upon the doctrine that
you supported in that interview you will see whether it
agrees or no with the teaching of the Church. It will be a
mark of your candour and humility not to be ashamed to be
corrected if you have ever held an opinion not conformable
to sound doctrine. Farewell.
LETTER XXXVI. (A..D. 1128.)
To THE SAME.
He replies to the letter of Hugo, and advises him to
desist from impugning the doctrine of a Bishop, then dead.
To his very dear friend now as formerly, and by the
grace of God, holy Abbot HUGO, Brother BERNARD of
Clairvaux, health and the assurance of sincere and undi-
minished affection.
I intended to reply more at length, as it was my duty, to
the letter of your Worthiness, which was shorter than I
desired, though longer than I deserved, but the haste of
your messenger did not permit. Nevertheless, that he may
not depart with his hands quite empty, I send in haste these
few lines in reply to the much longer letter, for which I
acknowledge myself the debtor. I commence by saying, in
few but sincere words, as to an old and dear friend, to
whom I also am dear, that from the bottom of my heart I
hold you for a Catholic, a holy man, and one very dear to
me. As to the purity of your faith, I trust your own con
fession ; your high reputation vouches for the holiness of
your life, and as for the affection which I have said that I
feel towards you, my own heart is a sufficient witness.
You protest that you do not retain the least vestige of
that opinion, which rightly, in my judgment, raised scruples
in my simple mind, and I receive the assurance as willingly
as I read with gladness in your last letter the concise state-
LETTER XXXVII. 211
ment of most pure truth, so that I would rather believe that
it is I who have wrongly understood you than that you had
put forth any proposition contrary to the faith. Now, per
mit me to advise you, with brotherly boldness, not to attack,
now that he is dead, the doctrine of a Bishop, 1 as holy as
learned, whom you have left unmolested while he lived, lest
in blaming one not now able to answer for himself you may
hear the whole Church replying for him, and seem to have
acted more from a want of charity than from love of the
truth. For Humbert, as I have begged you, so I repeat my
request, that you will afford him, as far as you are able,
your advice and protection. Farewell.
LETTER XXXVII. (A.D. 1128.)
To THEOBALD, COUNT OF CHAMPAGNE. 2
He expresses astonishment at having been refused, in
the cause of Humbert, though he asked nothing but "what
was right and just ; he warns the Count, by the remem
brance of the Supreme Judge, not to deny help and mercy
to an unfortunate man.
To the noble Prince THEOBALD, BERNARD, the unprofit
able servant of the servants of God who are in Clairvaux,
health and peace.
1 If I do not mistake, this was William of Champeaux, Bishop of Chalons-
sur-Marne, a man for whom Bernard had the greatest affection.
3 Many and high encomiums upon him are read in the writers of his age.
Anselm of Gembloux speaks thus of him in the year 1 134 : "Count Theobald
of Blois, or Chartres, was distinguished among all the princes of France by his
scrupulous justice. He was a pious man, a familiar associate of good monks
and clergy, a defender of the Church, a helper of the poor, and consoler of the
afflicted; prudent and discreet in the conduct of affairs, justly severe to offenders.
A monk of Autun, named Hugo, renders to him the same praise A.D. 1136.
As regards his zeal for justice, which Anselm specially commends, a striking
example is found in Letter 39, and others, from which we learn with what vigour
he dared, first of all, or among the first, to repress the single combats which
were tolerated elsewhere by all other princes. The Canons had long forbidden
them to Clerks, as Bishop Ivo, of Chartres, declares in his Letter 247. Ernald
of Bonnevaux, like Geoffrey, speaks with admiration of the works of charity and
212 LETTER XXXVII.
i. I am very grateful that you have been so good, as I
have heard, as to be anxious about my poor health ; and
while I see in this a proof of your worthiness towards me,
I cannot doubt of the love that you have towards God;
for unless for that reason, when would one of your high
rank deign to know so humble a person as myself? Since,
then, it is certain that you love God, and me because of
Him, I wonder the more that a small petition, preferred
through confidence in God, and neither unjust, as I think,
nor unreasonable, should have been refused to me by you.
If I had asked of you gold or silver, or something of that
kind 1 [either I am much deceived as to your goodness, or I
should certainly have received it]. But what, I say, had I
asked? Already, without asking, I have received very
many gifts of your generosity. But this one thing which I
requested from you, 2 not for my own sake, but in the name
of God, much more in your interest than my own. What
cause was there that I did not merit the granting of it?
Did you think it an unworthy thing of me to ask, or of you
to grant, that you should have mercy upon a Christian
man, whatever might be the crime of which he was accused
before you, after clearing himself of it? If you do not
believe that he has fully cleared himself because he did not
do this in your court, at least permit him to present himself
there to establish his innocence, and thus obtain indulgence.
2. Are you ignorant of the threatenings of Him who has
said, When my time shall be come I shall judge the judg
ments themselves (Ps. Ixv. 2, VuLG.) ? And if He judges
the judgments much more the injustices. Do you not fear
what is written again, With -what measure ye have
mercy of Theobald (Life of S. Bernard, B. ii. c. 8). Also the (new) Letter 416.
He was buried in the Benedictine monastery at Lagny-sur-Marne, of which he
was patron and protector, as we see from Bernard s Letter 230. This abbey
was founded by Heribert, Count of Champagne, in A.D. 990, and thtre the
porphyry tomb of Count Theobald may still be seen.
1 So the S. Germanus MS. Others omit these words.
2 Hence it appears that this was not the first Letter written on behalf of
Humbert, but that Letter 39 was prior in time, and from this we learn the
country of Humbert, and the punishment inflicted upon him.
LETTER XXXVIII. 213
measured it shall be again measured to you (S. Matt,
vii. 2) ? Do you not know that if it is easy for you to
deprive Humbert of his heritage, it is as easy it is even in
comparably more easy for God to deprive Count Theobald
(which may God forbid) of his ? And even in such cases
where the fault appears so open and inexcusable as that
there is no opportunity left for mercy except at the cost of
justice, even then it is only with fear and regret that you
ought to punish, more because obliged by the duty of your
office than from a desire to inflict punishment. But when
the crime charged is either not certainly known, or is
capable of excuse, not only ought you not to deny, but
ought most willingly to embrace an opportunity for pardon
ing, and be glad that when justice is secured your mercy
and indulgence have found place.
I supplicate your Highness, then, for the second time to
have pity upon Humbert, as you would that God should
have pity upon you; and to lend an ear either to that gentle
promise of the Lord, Blessed are the merciful for they
shall obtain mercy (S. Matt. v. 7), or to that terrible threat,
He shall have judgment -without mercy that hath showed
no mercy (S. James ii. 13). Farewell.
LETTER XXXVIII. (A.D. 1128.)
To THE SAME, ON THE SAME SUBJECT.
To the very pious Prince THEOBALD, BERNARD, Abbot
of Clairvaux, health and prayers.
i. I am greatly afraid lest I should at length become
troublesome by too presumptuously pouring my frequent
appeals into your much-occupied ears. But what can I do ?
If I fear to offend you by writing to you too often, how
much more ought I to fear to offend God, to whom still
greater fear is due, by not interceding for an unfortunate
man ? Besides, pardon me for saying that I am unable to see
without pitying the misery of that unfortunate, on whose
214 LETTER XXXVIII.
behalf I return again to weary you with my prayers. It is
still about Humbert that I speak. His lot is the more
unhappy that from having been rich he has become poor
and a beggar for daily bread. I cannot but compassionate
his widow and orphans, who are the more unhappy because
deprived of their father while he is yet alive. I render you
thanks for the favour that you have been so gracious as to
accord me in this matter, in deigning to permit that
Humbert should come himself to make his defence before
you, and in doing him the justice not to listen to his
slanderers. To perfect your work of charity, you had
arranged most kindly that his patrimony should be restored
to his wife and children ; and I cannot but wonder that
your charitable orders in this respect w r ere not at once
carried out.
2.. When we receive, perhaps, from other princes words
untrue or untrustworthy, it is something neither new nor
wonderful to us. But in the case of Count Theobald it is
a matter of great surprise that his Yes and No should be
without weight, since a word from him is for us equivalent
to an oath, and a slight untruth is regarded as a grave
perjury; since of all the virtues which dignify your high
rank and render your name celebrated throughout the whole
world, the chief and the most extolled is your steadfast
truthfulness. Who, then, has tried to weaken, either by
artifice or counsel, the intrepid firmness of your soul ?
who, I say, has endeavoured to enfeeble by his fraud your
purpose so holy, so noble, so exemplary for all princes ?
Falsely, not truly, does he love you, perfidiously, not faith
fully, does he counsel you, who tries to obscure because of
his cupidity your glorious reputation for truth, and endea
vours by some malicious motive to render vain a word that
your mouth has spoken a word not less pleasing to God
that it is worthy of you ; as just as it is pious, and pious as
just. I entreat you, then, by the mercy of God, that you
pursue your good purpose, and not permit the wicked to
boast that the poor man is ruined ; rather take means for
the full carrying out of the promise you have made, to
LETTER XXXIX. 215
Dom. Norbert and to me, that you would restore the patri
mony of Humbert to his wife and children. Farewell.
LETTER XXXIX. (A.D. 1127.)
TO THE SAME. 1
He commends the causes of various people to Theobald ;
then he urges him to treat with honour and reverence the
Bishops assembled at Troyes to be present at a Council.
i. Among the many signs of condescension which you
are pleased to display towards me, which arouse my
grateful affection, that which I feel most is that, although
I know I have ventured to address your Highness on behalf
of many people, I never remember to have experienced a
repulse from you. Having naturally become more confident,
therefore, I approach you without hesitation to recommend
to you the Canons of Larzicourt. 3
I do not ask any favour for them, because I have so much
trust in your justice and observance of law that I think if
your enemy came to plead a cause in your Court he need
not fear that he would not receive justice; but this is the
supplication which I from a distance unite with them, and
for them, to make : both that you would accord to them a
speedy and favourable access to the presence of your
Serenity, which I know they greatly need, in order that
1 After having addressed other requests in this Letter to Count Theobald,
Bernard intercedes for an unfortunate man named Humbert, who has been
vanquished in a duel, and in consequence deprived by order of the prince, not
only of his property, but also of sight, so that he had no means of sustaining
his miserable existence. The penalty of his fault was cruel, and the charitable
heart of Bernard was profoundly distressed ; but so severe a remedy was called
for by the great and inveterate evil of these single combats. Sirmund speaks
of the great frequency and mischievous consequences of these in his notes to
Geoffrey of Vendome, B. iii. ep. 38 ; Duchesne ad Bibli thecam Cluniacensem,
and others. Compare Lttter 376 of S. Bernard.
2 These were Regular Canons of S. Augustine. Larzicourt is in the Deanery
of Pertois, Diocese of Chalons-sur-Marne ; the Jesuit Fathers possessed a Priory
there in the time of Mabillon.
2l6 LETTER XXXIX.
their neighbours may render them the respect which their
piety deserves, and which they will do when they learn
your good disposition towards them ; and that if any of
your soldiers or officials have acted unjustly towards them,
they may understand that they must not henceforth trouble
their Godly peace without incurring your displeasure.
2. I have another request respectfully to make. I met
lately, when passing through Bar, a woman very much to
be pitied ; she was in great trouble, and my heart was
moved on hearing her sufferings. She begged with tears
and prayers that I would intercede for her with you. She
is the wife of that man of yours, Belin, whom you were
obliged to punish some time since for an offence which he
had committed. Have mercy upon her, that God may have
mercy also upon you.
3. Since I have once begun, I will continue to speak with
my lord. In a duel which has lately been fought in the
presence of the Prevot of Bar, the vanquished 1 was con
demned by your order to lose his eyes on the spot; but,
besides this, as if it were not enough to be vanquished and
to lose his sight, he was deprived of all his goods, as he
complains, by your people. Your benevolence will find it
just that they should restore to him sufficient to sustain his
miserable life ; and, besides, the offence of the father ought
not to be imputed to his innocent children. Let them,
then, at least succeed to the father s possessions if he has
any.
4. In conclusion, I would beg you to treat with all the
honour, of which they are well worthy, those holy Bishops
who have assembled in your capital to consider together
matters of religion. Deign also to show yourself devoted
and obedient as far as you can in all things to the Legate
himself, who has chosen to honour you and your capital by
the holding of so important a Council. 2 And be so kind as
1 This was Humbert, on whose behalf Bernard wrote this Letter before Letter
37-
2 This was the Council of Troyes in 1 128, which is referred to in Letter 21 to
the Legate Matthew.
LETTER XL. 21 7
to give your support and assent to the measures and the reso
lutions which he shall judge advisable for the promotion of
good ; but especially I beg you to receive with honour the
Bishop of Langres, who is your Bishop as well as mine, and
for the fief l which you hold of his Church you ought to
render the due homage. 2 With humble respect, farewell.
LETTER XL. (Circa A.D. 1127.)
To THE SAME.
He commends a poor religious to Theobald.
I commend unto you two things in this man whom you
see: poverty and piety, that if you do not compassionate the
one in him you may reverence the other, and may not deny
to him what he has come so far, and at the price of so many
fatigues, to ask of you. Give him, then, some help, if not
for his sake, at least for your own ; for if he has need of you
because he is poor, you have as much and, indeed, more
need of him because he is a religious. Finally, of all those
many people whom I have sent unto you for the same
cause, I do not know if there has been one other on whom
you might bestow a benefit with greater certainty that it
would be pleasing to God. Farewell.
LETTER XLI. (In the same year.}
To THE SAME.
He recommends to him an aged religious.
I fear that you are troubled by my frequent scribblings,
but the law of Christ and the necessity of friends drives me
to this opportunity. I entreat you not to send away empty
this aged man whom I have recommended to you. He is
1 Casamentum. That is, a property dependent from the house (Casa) of the
Lord.
2 Hominium or homagium.
2l8 LETTER XLII.
aged as you see, and of a good and religious house, as I
know. Besides this, I would ask you to be so good as to
give him a letter to the King, your uncle, 1 whom he is
going to seek. I would wish that all the servants of God
might become, if it were possible, your debtors, so that they
may receive you one day into the everlasting habitations in
return for the mammon of iniquity which you share with
them. Farewell.
LETTER XLII.
To HENRY, ARCHBISHOP OF SENS.
This Letter deserved a place among the Treatises, and we
have removed it thither under this title : De Moribus et
OJficio Episcoporum Tractatus, or Letter 42 to Henry,
Archbishop of Sens.
LETTER XLIII. (Circa A.D. 1128.)
To THE SAME HENRY.
He writes on behalf of the Abbey of Molesme.
The kind reception which you gave to my last request
gives me room to hope to obtain what I now ask. I would
first express my most earnest thanks for your previous
kindness, and then venture to beg that you would make me
a second time your debtor, namely, by permitting the
Abbey of Molesme to possess freely the Church, 2 on account
of which they are grieved to have lost the favour of your
1 Henry I., King of England, uncle of Theobald (Emaldus Vit. Bernard B. ii.
sub finem, and Robert du Mont under A.D. 1151), by Adela, daughter of William
the Conqueror, sister of Henry I., and mother of Theobald.
- A house of the Benedictines, in the Diocese of Langres, founded by Abbot
Robert, who was also Abbot of Citeaux ; it was that reason which caused
Bernard to care always for the interests of that Abbey. See Letters 44, 60, and
80. Peter de Celles speaks of it thus in his fourteenth Letter to the monks of
Molesme, B. vii.: " Molesme is a hen full of plumes and furnished with wings.
How many and great offspring has it produced ? From it has emerged the
original germ of Citeaux. The reference in this Letter, as in the following, is
to the Church of Senan, which was formerly a Priory in the Diocese of Sens and
Deanery of Courtenay.
LETTER XLIV. 219
Serenity, and which it is certain that they possessed in the
time of your predecessors. Farewell.
LETTER XLIV. (Circa A.D. 1128.)
To THE SAME, ON THE SAME SUBJECT.
You see how often I count on your bounty, so that I do
not fear, although I have received so much from you, to
make myself again an importunate suppliant and to weary
you with new demands. My presumption, indeed, is great,
but it does not merit indignation, since it is caused by
affection and not by want of consideration. Your Paternity
remembers, I doubt not, that when I was lately at Troyes
you were so good as to relinquish for the love of God, and at
my entreaty, all the claims which you had made against the
monks of Molesme on the Church at Senan. Now, the same
monks complain that I know not what new, and, as they say,
undue praerogatives are asserted over the forenamed Church.
I beseech you that these also may be remitted, and trust that
in this even you will not refuse me, so that, as you have
granted me the greater favours, so I may be successful in
obtaining the lesser. Farewell.
LETTER XLV. (A.D. 1127.)
To Louis, KING OF FRANCE. 1
The monks of Citeaux take the liberty to address grave
reproaches to King Louis for his hostility to and injuries
inflicted upon the Bishop of Paris, and declare that they
will bring the cause before the Pope if the King does not
desist.
To Louis, the glorious King of France, STEPHEN, Abbot
of Citeaux, and the whole assembly of the abbots and
brethren of Citeaux, wish health, prosperity, and peace in
Christ Jesus.
i. The King of heaven and earth has given you a kingdom
1 Louis VI., " the Fat."
220 LETTER XLV.
on earth, and will bestow upon you one in heaven if you
study to govern with justice and wisdom that which you
have received. This is what we wish for you, and ; pray for
on your behalf, that you may reign here faithfully, and
there in happiness. But why do you of late put so many
obstacles in the way of our prayers for you, which, if you
recollect, you formerly with such humility requested ?
With what confidence can we now presume to lift up our
hands for you to the Spouse of the Church, while you so
inconsiderately, and without the slightest cause (as we
think), afflict the Church? Grave indeed is the complaint
she lays against you before her Spouse and Lord, that she
finds you an opposer whom she accepted as a protector.
Have you reflected whom you are thus attacking? Not
really the Bishop of Paris, 1 but the Lord of Paradise, a
terrible God "who cuts off the spirit of Princes (Ps. Ixx.
12), and who has said to Bishops, He who despiseth you
despiseth me (S. Luke x. 16).
2. That is what we have to say to you. Perhaps we
have to say it with boldness, but at the same time in love ;
and for your sake we pray you heartily, in the name of the
friendship with which you have honoured us, and of the
brotherhood with which you deigned to associate yourself,
but which you have now so grievously wounded, quickly to
desist from so great a wrong; otherwise, if vou do not
deign to listen to us, nor take any account of us whom you
called brethren, who are your friends, and who pray daily
for you and your children and realm, we are forced to say
to you that, humble as we are, there is nothing which we
are not prepared to do within the limits of our weakness
1 Stephen, who was Bishop of Paris from 1124 to 1144. The cause of these
persecutions was the withdrawal of Stephen from the Court, and the liberty of
the Church which he demanded. Henry, Archbishop of Sens, had a similar
difficulty, and for causes not unlike (Letter 49). The mind of the King was
not induced to yield by this Letter, and the death of his son Philip, who was
already associated with him as King, passed for a punishment from Heaven for
his obstinacy. It is astonishing that after his death the nobles and bishops
should have had thoughts of hindering the succession of Louis the Younger
(Ordfricus, Book xiii. p. 895 sqq.)
LETTER XLVI. 221
for the Church of God, and for her minister, the venerable
Bishop of Paris, our father and our friend. He implores
the help of poor religious against you, and begs us by the
right of brotherhood 1 to write in his favour to the Lord
o
Pope. But we judge that we ought first to commence by
this letter to your royal Excellence, especially as the same
Bishop pledges himself by the hand of all our Congrega
tion to give every satisfaction provided that his goods,
which have been unjustly taken away from him, be restored,
which it seems to us justice itself requires; in the mean
time, we put off the sending of his petition. And if God
inspires you to lend an ear to our prayers, to follow our
counsels, and to restore peace with your Bishop, or rather
with God, which we earnestly desire, we are prepared to
come to you wherever you shall be pleased to fix for the
sake of arranging this affair ; but if it be otherwise, we
shall be obliged to listen to the voice of our friend, and to
render obedience to the priest of God. Farewell.
LETTER XLVI. (A.D. 1127.)
To THE LORD POPE HONORIUS II., ON THE SAME
SUBJECT.
They complain to the Pope that by the raising surrep
titiously of the interdict, the King of France, before dis
posed to peace, was rendered more obstinate.
To the supreme Pontiff HONORIUS, the abbots of the poor
of Christ, HUGO of Pontigny, and BERNARD of Clairvaux,
health and all that the prayer of sinners can effect.
We are not able to conceal the tears and complaints of
the Bishops, and, indeed, of the whole Church, of which we
have the honour, however unworthy, to be sons. We speak
of what we have seen. A great necessity has drawn us
from our cloisters into public, and what we have seen there
i All those who in a Society had the right of suffrage were regarded as
brothers. So the monks of Chaise-Dieu call Louis Le Jeune by the name of
brother (Uuchesne, Vol. iv. Letter 308).
222 LETTER XLVII.
we report to you. We have seen and repeat sad things.
In the time of Honorius the honour of the Church has been
deeply wounded. Already the humility, or rather the
constancy, of the bishops had bent down the anger of the
King, when the supreme authority of the supreme pontiff
intervening, 1 alas ! threw down constancy and set up pride !
We know, indeed, that that mandate must have been
obtained from you by falsehood, as is quite evident from
your letter, or you would not have ordered an interdict so
just and so necessary to be put an end to. But should not
the falsehood be at length detected should not iniquity be
made to feel that it has lied against itself, and not against
dignity such as yours? For it is that which astonishes us,
that judgment should have been given without hearing the
two parties, and that the absent should have been con
demned, which, indeed, we do not blame with rash pre
sumption, but with the love of sons we suggest to the heart
of our Father how greatly from this act the wicked triumphs
and the poor is cast down ; but how long he ought to
suffer thus, and in what degree you ought to suffer with
him, it is not for us, most holy Father, to prescribe to you ;
it is for you to consult your own heart. Farewell.
LETTER XLVII. (A.D. 1127.)
TO THE SAME POPE, IN THE NAME OF GEOFFREY,
BISHOP OF CHARTRES.
He explains to the Pontiff the cause -why the Bishop of
Paris was unjustly oppressed by King Louis. The inter
dict of the bishops of France had put pressure upon him,
and he had promised to make restitution, when the absolu
tion of Honorius rendered him contumacious, and pre
vented his fulfilling his promise.
It is superfluous to recall to you, very holy Father, the
cause and order of a very afflicting history, and to linger
1 Viz., by relaxing the interdict which by the bishops of the province had been
laid upon the Royal domain, because of the persecution of which the Bishop of
Paris was the object. See the following Letter.
LETTER XLVII. 223
over what you have already heard from the pious Bishop of
Paris, and which must have profoundly affected your
paternal heart. Yet my testimony also ought not to be
wanting to my brother and co-bishop ; what I have seen
and heard respecting this matter, this I have undertaken to
make you acquainted with in few words. When the
before-mentioned Bishop had brought forward his complaint,
which he did with great moderation, in our provincial
assembly, where had gathered with our venerable metro
politan the Archbishop of Sens, all the bishops of the pro
vince, and certain religious also whom we had summoned,
we determined to represent to the King, with all becoming
humility, his unjust proceeding, and to beg that he would
restore to the Bishop unjustly maltreated what had been
taken from him ; but we obtained no satisfaction from him.
Understanding, at length, that in order to defend the
Church we had decided to have recourse to the weapons of
the Church, he was afraid, and promised the restitution
demanded. But almost in the same hour arrived your
letter, ordering that the interdict over the royal domains
should be raised, thus, unfortunately, strengthening the
King in his evil doings, so that he did not perform at all
what he had promised. Nevertheless, as he had given a
fresh promise that he would do what we required, we
presented ourselves on the day appointed. We laboured
for peace, and it did not come ; but instead of it worse
confusion. Thus the effect of your letter has been that the
goods unjustly seized are more unjustly retained, and those
which remain are seized day by day, and that so much
more securely, as he is assured of entire impunity in retain
ing them. The just (as we consider) interdict of the
Bishop has been raised by your order, and as the fear
of displeasing you has made us suspend that which we
proposed to send forth by our own authority, and by which
we hoped to obtain peace, we are made in the meantime
the derision of our neighbours. How long is this to be ?
Let the compassion of your piety be exercised on our
behalf.
224 LETTER XLVIII.
LETTER XLVIII. (Circa A.D. 1130.)
To HAIMERIC, THE CHANCELLOR, ON THE SAME
SUBJECT, AND AGAINST DETRACTORS.
He justifies himself against attacks made upon him,
and begs to be allowed to enjoy solitude and silence.
To the illustrious HAIMERIC, Chancellor of the holy
Roman See, Brother BERNARD, called Abbot of Clairvaux,
health eternal.
i. Does truth bring hatred even to the poor and indigent,
and does not even their misery secure them against envy ?
Ought I to complain or to glory because I am made an enemy
for speaking the truth or for doing right ? That is what I
leave to be considered by your brethren, who, against the
law, speak evil of one deaf (Lev. xix. 14), and not fearing
the malediction of the Prophet, call evil good and good evil
(Is. v. 20). I ask of you, O good men, what in me has
displeased your brotherhood? 1 Is it because at Chalons
was deposed the Bishop of Verdun, 2 a man everywhere
decried, because he had dissipated in management the
goods of his Lord committed to him in the Church over
which he presided ? Or was it because at Cambray,
1 Fraternitati. So all, or almost all, write constantly, and rightly so ; for
Cardinals formerly used to be called simply Bruthn-s (Life of S. Bernard, B. ii.
n. 42), and in Chrnn. Andrent. Spicilegii, Vol. ix. p. 481, the Abbot Peter is
brought forward as having visited " not only the lord Pope, but also the
Brothers according to the custom." Some wrongly read " our brethren,"
instead of " ynur brethren, at the beginning of this Letter. See also IPilliam
of Tyre, B. iii. c. 15 : "The Cardinals are Brothers whether bishops, priests, or
deacons."
2 Henry, the same to whom Letters 62 and 63 are addressed. Laurence of
Lie ge, speaks of his deposition in his " History of Verdun (Spicilcginm, Vol.
xii. p. 311), saying that this affair had been confided by Pope Honorius to the
care of his Legate in France, Matthew, Bishop of Albano, who assembled a
Council at Chalons-sur-Marne to deal with it. " Henry at first consulted
Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, of holy memory, whose counsels are at this day,"
says Laurence, " the support of the realms and churches of France. He
advised Henry that it was a very grave thing to retain an episcopal charge
over unwilling people. Therefore, before a very ignominious charge should
come against him in the public hearing of so many great men, he, being
LETTER XLVIII. 225
Fulbert, who conducted his monastery manifestly to its
destruction, was obliged to yield his place to Parvin, 1 a
prudent and faithful servant, according to the testimony of
all ? Or, again, was it because, at Laon, a sanctuary 2 of
God was restored to him after having been made a shrine
of Venus ? For which of these things do you, I do not say
stone me, so that I may not borrow the language of my Lord
(S. John x. 32), but tear me to pieces ? And this I should
be right to reply to you with pride, if any of the credit of
these things belong to me. But, now, why am I judged for
what others have done ? Or if for my actions, why am I
accused as if I had done something wrong, when no one
can be so silly as to doubt, or so shameless as to deny that
all these things were done justly and well? Choose now
which alternative you please ; either deny or assert that I
am the author of these things. If I have done them, it is a
thing worthy of praise to have brought about praiseworthy
actions, and I am wrongly blamed for that which renders
me worthy of praise. If I have not done them, as I have
deserved no praise, I deserve no blame. It is a new kind of
detraction that is employed against me, and has some
resemblance to the work of Balaam, who, being brought
and paid to curse the people, heaped them with blessings
instead (Num. xxii. and xxiv.). What more just and more
consoling for him whom the design was to blame than to
see that, though willing to blame him, you unwillingly
praise, and unknowingly employ the language of laudation
for that of insult ? Could you not find enough of real
alone, should yield to all and resign the See. He followed this counsel, gave
up the pastoral staff, and retired from the See in the thirteenth year after he had
received it from the hand of Caesar," i.e., in A.D. 1 129.
1 Parvin was a monk of S. Vincent at Laon when he was made abbot of
S. Sepulchre of Cambray, after Fulbert had been displaced by Rainauld des
Pres, Archbishop of Rheims, on account of his bad administration. The
monastery of S. Sepulchre, of the Order of S. Benedict, was formerly beyond
the walls of Cambray, and was founded A.D. 1064 by Bishop Lietbert.
3 This refers to the convent of S. John Baptist at Laon, from which the nuns
who had previously occupied it were driven out because of the irregular lives of
some of them. They were replaced in 1128 by monks who had at their head
as abbot, Drogo, a monk of S. Nicasius at Rheims.
VOL. I. 15
226 LETTER XLVIII.
defaults in me that you reproach me for a good action as
if it were evil, or rather that you impute to me what I have
not done ?
2. But I am not distressed by undeserved reproaches, nor
do I accept unmerited praises ; nothing concerns me which
I have not done. Let them praise if they will or blame if
they dare his lordship of Albano for the first matter,
for the second his lordship of Rheims, and for the third the
same archbishop, with the Bishop of Laon, with the King
in the same degree, and with many other reverend persons,
who will by no means disown that they have taken a
principal part in them. If they have done well, or if
otherwise, what is it to me ? My sole and only fault is
that I have been present at these assemblies, being a man
deserving only of solitude, who ought to judge only myself,
to be the accuser and arbiter of my own conscience only, if
I wish that my life should display what my profession
declares, and my name of monk describe truly my solitary
habit of life. For I was present, I avow it ; but it was
because I had been summoned, and, as it were, forced to
come. If this has been displeasing to my friends, I confess
it has displeased me also. Would that I had not gone to
these assemblies, would that I may not go to any similar to
them ! Would that I had never gone where I had the
sorrow to see (as lately) a violent tyrant armed against the
Church by the authority of the Holy See, as if he had not
been already by himself sufficiently powerful ! Then at
length I felt as the Prophet says, my tongue cleave to my
mouth (Ps. cxxxvii. 6), when I saw that unquestionable
authority bear us down with its weight, and when the
Pope s letter was brought forward. Alas ! I was mute, /
was humbled, I was silent even from the good : and my
sorrow was renewed (Ps. xxxix. 3, VULG.), when suddenly
I saw the letter of the Pope cover the faces of the innocent
with confusion, make the impious and sinners to rejoice
and triumph in their wickedness. The indulgence which
was shown to the wicked, as says the Prophet, did not
teach him to do righteousness ; and he who dealt unjustly
LETTER XLVIII. 227
in the land of the righteous (Is. xxvi. 10) was freed from
the most just interdict under which his domain was held. 1
3. For reasons of this kind, even if there were no others,
I am vexed to have meddled in the transaction of business,
especially as I know that in it there is nothing that concerns
me. I am vexed, yet I am forced to go. But by whom
could I better hope to be relieved from this necessity than
by you, O best of men ! to whom in such a matter neither
is power wanting nor, as I know well, the will. I rejoice,
therefore, to know that my occupation in such matters is
displeasing to your wisdom ; you are entirely right, and I
recognize in it your friendship for me. Since, then, such
is your desire, or rather since you perceive and determine
that it is better for your friend and more becoming to a
Religious, take means, I pray you, to ensure that both your
will at once and mine may be accomplished as soon as
possible, that justice may be satisfied, and the safety of my
soul cared for. Forbid, if you please, those clamorous and
importunate frogs to come forth from their hiding-places,
but let them stay contentedly in their marshes. Let them
not be heard in Councils, nor enter into palaces ; let no
necessity, no authority draw them to mingle in the settle
ment of disputes or of any business. So, perhaps, your
friend may be able to escape from the charge of presump
tion. I do not know, indeed, how there can be any occasion
for it, for my resolution is fixed not to set foot out of my
monastery unless summoned by the Legate of the Apostolic
See, or, at least, by my own Bishop, since, as you well know,
it would be altogether wrong for a humble person like my
self to resist these unless by privilege of some higher
authority. If ever you shall succeed in effecting this, as I
sincerely hope, then, without doubt, I shall have peace my
self and leave others in peace. Yet, even although I shut
myself up and keep silence, I do not suppose that the
murmurs of the Churches will cease, if the Roman Curia
continues to do injury to the absent in order to be com
plaisant to those who are near at hand. Farewell.
1 See Letters 46, 47.
228 LETTER XLIX.
LETTER XLIX. (A.D. 1128.)
To THE LORD POPE HONORIUS, ON BEHALF OF HENRY,
ARCHBISHOP OF SENS.
To the Supreme Pontiff, HONORIUS, his servants and sons
(if we are worthy to be so called), STEPHEN of Citeaux,
HUGO of Pontigny, BERNARD of Clairvaux, health and their
best prayers for their most reverend lord and kind father.
Though dwelling in monasteries, to the shelter of which
our sins have driven us, we do not cease to pray for you and
for the Church of God committed to your charge, and share
the rejoicing both of the Spouse of the Lord over so faithful
a guardian, and of the friend of the Bridegroom over
labouring so abundantly for her. In faith and truth we
make known to you, holy Father, the evils to which we see
with grief our Mother, the Church, exposed in this realm.
As far as we, being on the spot, are able to judge, King
Louis is hostile not so much to Bishops, as to any zeal for
justice, practice of piety, and even religious living in the
Bishops. That this is the fact the penetration of your
Holiness will easily infer from this, that the very men who
previously in secular life were highly honoured by him, judged
faithful, regarded as familiar friends, are now treated as
enemies, because they behave worthily in the priesthood and
honour their ministry in all things. This is the cause of the
insults and injuries with which the Bishop of Paris, though
innocent, has been attacked, yet he has not been crushed,
because the Lord arrested the King s hand when he opposed
yours. Hence, also now he endeavours to weary and break
down the constancy of the Archbishop of Sens, so that
when the Metropolitan is vanquished (which may God
forbid) he may easily, as he supposes, prevail over all the
suffragans. Finally, who doubts that what he really wishes
to attack is religion, which he looks upon openly as the
destruction of his realm and the enemy of his crown ?
Another Herod holds Christ in suspicion, but it is Christ no
longer in the cradle, but triumphant in the Churches, who is
obnoxious to him. Nor do we think that his hostility to the
LETTER L. 22g
archbishop has any other object than this, that he strives to
extinguish 1 in him, as in others, the spirit with which he is
animated. Finally, if we are thought to be deceiving you,
or to be ourselves deceived about these matters to which
we bear witness, we desire that you will examine into them
yourself as quickly as possible, so that (which we
vehemently desire and suppliantly entreat) judgment may
come forth from your presence, most holy Father, and in
it we have no doubt that you will seek equity and protect
innocence. But that the cause should be brought back into
the presence and under the power of the King is plainly
nothing else than that the just should be delivered into the
hands of his enemies.
LETTER L. (A.D. 1128.)
To THE SAME, ON THE SAME SUBJECT.
He demands that it should be allowed to the Archbishop
to appeal to the Apostolic See.
It would be desirable, if it seems good to your authority,
that the cause of the Archbishop of Sens should be discussed
in your own presence, so that being, as he is, obnoxious to
the King, he may not seem to be a man delivered to the
will of his enemies by having to answer for himself to his
adversaries in the presence and power of the King; but as
whatever you direct must be inviolably adhered to, so it may
be firmly hoped that whatever course you decree may issue
in some good. This only we demand very humbly of your
bounty, with all our Religious, viz., that if it shall happen
that this Prelate should be crushed by the sovereign power
(as it has happened only too often) he may be permitted to
seek refuge in your fatherly bosom, because hitherto we
have never heard that you have refused this refuge to a
person oppressed. Otherwise let Joseph, the just man, see
1 This expression must not be taken too absolutely, since it is evident that
Louis was far from being a bad prince ; but is used because he seemed to
persecute in them the zeal for righteuuvtess in wishing to stop the first motions
of the Bishops of Sens and Paris towards a new manner of life.
230 LETTER LI.
to it, what he must do now to save the Child and his Mother,
because even now in the province of Sens Christ is sought
for destruction. For, to say more plainly that which is the
fact, it is clear that the King persecutes in the Archbishop
of Sens his new piety, because he advanced him by all
possible means and dismissed him into his Diocese with the
assurance of freedom from every disturbance, as long as he
lived in his former worldlv life and conversation.
LETTER LI. (A.D. 1128.)
To HAIMERIC, THE CHANCELLOR, ON THE SAME SUBJECT.
To the very illustrious HAIMERIC, Chancellor of the Holy
Roman See, BERNARD, Abbot of Clairvaux, health and all
that the prayer of a sinner can avail.
How long will it be true to say, All who -will live piously
in Christ suffer persecution (2 Tim. iii. 12) ? How long
shall the rod of sinners be extended over the heritage of the
just? Who shall enable the just to stand 1 against those
who have oppressed them ?
Who can bear to see so great a degree of discord between
heaven and earth, that while the Angels rejoice at the
amendment of the evil, the sons of Adam rage and are
envious? Has not Jesus by His sufferings and His blood
purified the things which are in heaven and those on earth ;
and was not God in Him reconciling the world unto Him
self? Formerly the Archbishop had nothing but praise,
when he was ruled only by the desires of his heart noth
ing but approval as long as his life and conversation
were worldly. But now simony is sought for under the
swaddling clothes of the infancy of Jesus, and a malign
curiosity searches among the rising virtues (of the prelate)
for even the ashes of dead vices. You see clearly that it is
Jesus Himself who is the mark for the hostility of these
men. In His name I beseech you ; for His sake I am a
1 Some read in great constancy here, but the words are wanting in MSS.
LETTER LII. 231
suppliant to you. He is well worthy both of your reverence
and of your pity. Stand fast for Him in the defence of the
Archbishop, and remember that you yourself must one day
stand before Him to be judged. Farewell.
LETTER LII. (Circa A.D. 1128.)
To THE SAME.
He declares that the Bishop of Chartres has not pro
jected a journey to Jerusalem. He begs to be released
from the -weight of public affairs,
Your friend and mine, the Lord Bishop of Chartres,
wished the assurance to be conveyed to you by me that he
has not had either the intention or the wish to be allowed
to go to Jerusalem, as we know the Pope has been made to
believe. For although he would greatly have wished to
make the journey, yet he was not able to leave without
great scandal here to all good people, who fear that his
absence would do more harm to his own flock than his
presence would do good to foreigners. This is what I have
to say on behalf of that Bishop.
But that I may say something also on my own behalf,
according to what Scripture admonishes, saying : Have
pity on your own soul if you wish to please God (Ecclus.
xxx. 23, VULG.). Does it please you that I should be loaded
with burdens and occupied with business, so that I have no
leisure to attend to my own duties, being entirely immersed
in those which belong to others ? If I have found favour in
your eyes, be so good as to relieve me of all these affairs,
so that I may be able to pray God for your sins and my
own. It is true that I consider nothing could be safer for
me than to follow the will of my lord the Pope ; but if he
would be so kind as to consider the limit of my powers, he
would realize that I am not able to do these things, or with
how much difficulty I can do them. And upon that matter
sufficient is said to an intelligent person like yourself.
232 LETTER LIII.
The Bishop of Chartres asked of me some of my little
treatises to send to you ; but I have nothing at hand which
seems to me worthy of your attention. There is, indeed, a
little book concerning Grace and Free Will which I have
lately put forth. This I will gladly send to you, if you wish
it. Farewell.
LETTER LIII. (Circa A.D. 1128.)
To THE SAME.
He presents to Haimeric two religious, and in them
himself.
I remember that I have written to you on behalf of many
people, and by the medium of many ; but now I, who have
often corresponded with you, am present before you in per
son. Represent to yourself three persons in the two whom
you behold, since without me these are not able to exist, in
whose hearts I rest in close companionship, and even more
safely and sweetly than in my own. I seem to exaggerate,
but only to one who has never felt the power of friendship,
who is ignorant of the force of affection, who does not
believe that the multitude of believers "were of one heart
and of one soul (Acts iv. 32). He, then, who sees them
sees me also, though not in my own body, and what they
say I say also with their tongues. I am absent in body, I
confess ; but the body is the least part of me. And if it is
true that he who sees my face may assert with truth that
he sees me and not a part of me only, when notwithstanding
he sees only a part of me, and that the least considerable, how
much more truly may I say that I am present, even without
bodily presence, where I feel my will, my spirit, and affec
tion, which is the greater and more worthy part of me, to
be ? Know, then, that we are one person in three bodies,
not of equal holiness, for in this I am inferior to each of
these two, but having the same will, and perfect union of
souls. For why should not the bond of affection bring
about the unity of several persons in one spirit, if the bond
LETTER LIV. 233
of marriage makes two to be one flesh ? I could wish that
you would make yourself the fourth with us, if you do not
consider that unity of affection unworthy of you. This you
will easily obtain, if you do not disdain it ; only if you do
not desire it, I beg you not to let them perceive this.
Farewell.
LETTER LIV. (Circa A.D. 1136.)
To THE SAME.
He recommends the Abbot Vivian, and warns Haimenc
to think seriously of the salvation of his soul.
I desire and entreat that you will assist in his business,
for the love of God and for my sake, the bearer of this
letter, the venerable Vivian, Abbot of Haute Combe, 1 for
whom I have a most intimate friendship, on account of his
piety. This is what I have to say on his behalf ; the re
mainder of the letter is for yourself. What shall it profit
a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul ;
or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? (S.
Matt. xvi. 26). Not the whole world would be sufficient.
A soul, which has been redeemed with the blood of Christ,
is a valuable thing. Great was the loss of the soul, which
could not be repaired except by the Cross of Christ. If,
again, it shall perish by sin even unto death, whence, then,
shall it be restored? Is there either another Christ, or
will He be crucified again for it? Upon this subject I
would wish that you would never forget the counsel of the
wise man : My son, remember thy latter end, and thou
shalt not ever sin (Ecclus. vii. 36, 40, VULG.).
1 This monastery was founded in 1135, in the Alps; its first abbot was
Vivian, a monk of the Cistercian Order. He was succeeded by Amadeus in
139-
234 LETTER LV.
LETTER LV. (Circa A.D. 1128.)
To GEOFFREY, BISHOP OF CHARTRES.
He begs that Geoffrey would receive and assist a certain
religious recluse who had deserted his calling, but was
repentant.
To the most faithful and prudent servant of God,
GEOFFREY, Bishop .of Chartres, 1 BERNARD, of Clairvaux,
servant of the poor of Christ, health and the fulness of the
glory of the everlasting hills.
The more fame and honour the holiness of your life pro
cures for you, the more labour it brings you. Thus the
person who brings you this letter, and on whose behalf it is
written, has felt himself, like so many others, drawn to you
from far, by the fragrance of your pity, and by the hope of
finding in you not only counsel what he ought to do, but
also aid to accomplish it. This is his case. He had for
the love of God shut himself in a certain cell, intending to
live as a recluse. He himself will explain to you the
causes why he quitted his cell and broke his vow. 2 Now
he desires to return to his purpose ; but intends to ask
your help for so doing, if you will accord it to him at my
request by this letter, with which he was desirous to
strengthen his application. Act, therefore, in your accus
tomed way ; give help to this unhappy man, and the more
since I know you hold yourself a debtor both to the wise
and to the unwise ; quickly draw this wandering lamb of
Christ from the jaws of the wolf, bring him back to his
former pasture, and order him to be reclosed in some little
1 Bernard was a great admirer and publisher of the virtues of this great
prelate, of which he was an eye-witness, inasmuch as he was frequently
associated with him by the Pope in transacting business of the Church (Lift of
S. Bernard, B. ii. ch. i, 2, 6, etc.). He was a man truly apostolic, whose
character, disposition, and ability were closely allied to those of Bernard, as is
shown by the affectionate memory in which the latter testifies that he held him.
In the life of William, Duke of Aquitaine, he is called " a man full of the spirit
of power and wisdom." He died 24th Jan., 1 138.
2 Grimlac, in his Rule for Solitaries, shows that it was not permitted to those
who had been with solemn ceremony enclosed in their cell to quit it again.
LETTER LVI. 235
cell near one of your houses ; unless, perhaps, you see
that some other course is the better for the man to take,
and you succeed in convincing him that he ought to take it.
LETTER LVI. (Circa A.D. 1128.)
To THE SAME.
He is uncertain respecting the pilgrimage of Norbert to
Jerusalem. He does not share his opinion about A ntichrist.
He also recommends Humbert.
I am quite ignorant respecting the matter of which you
inquire of me, namely, whether the Lord Norbert is about to
go to Jerusalem. For when I saw him last, a few days ago,
he said nothing of it to me, though I was honoured in being
able to drink in many words from his mouth, as it were a
sweet-toned flute. 1 But when I asked what he thought
concerning Antichrist, he declared himself quite convinced
that Antichrist was to be revealed during this generation
that is now. 2
1 High praise to Norbert (says Mabillon) from such a man ; but not less
remarkable is the discernment of Bernard in divine things, since he did not
easily yield faith to any kind of pious imaginativeness, as we see from Letter
174, n. 6. Norbert (whom we have already praised in Letters 35 and 38) was
the founder of the Praemonstratensian Order, which counted already almost
seventy abbeys in its first twenty years of existence (Laurence of Liege, Spici-
legium, Vol. xii., p. 32). See Letter 253.
2 Not Norbert only, but many of the older Fathers (not to speak of the more
recent) were persuaded that Antichrist was on the point of appearing, and that
the last day of the world was drawing near as may be seen in S. Jerome,
Pope Leo, S. Gregory the Great, and even S. Augustine. They were led to
believe this by the iniquity of the times, and the appearance of very many of
the signs foretold by Christ by which the end of the world should be preceded.
But we may go even further back. Even from the time of the Apostles there
were many judgments, conjectures, opinions, predictions upon Antichrist and
upon the end of the world. Very many philosophers and astronomers, a great
number also of impostors, stage players, and scandal-mongers, * certain
heretics also and fanatics wished to be prophets on this subject, and to appear
to know more about it than other mortals ; but the event has already shown
that the greater number of these predictions were vain, and has convicted their
1 Lit., dealers in female finery, migivenduli.
236 LETTER LVI.
y
I begged him to tell me on what he rested his conviction,
authors of vanity and falsehood. The remainder will receive, without doubt,
from the present and from the future a similar confutation, and the truth will
be shown of that saying in Acts i. 7 : It is not fur you to know the times and
the seasons ; and of that also in S. Matt. xxiv. 36: But of that day and hour
knoweth no one. It will not be tedious to the reader if we give here a few
examples of these out of a great many.
The first who thought that the end of the world was imminent were the
Thessalonians, who wrongly understood those words of the Apostle (i Thess.
iv. 17): Then we which are alive and remain shall Le caught, up together with
them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so shall we ever be with the
Lord. It was to recall these from this opinion that S. Paul judged it necessary
to write a second Epistle to the Thessalonians (S. Jerome, Epist. ad Miner, et
Alex.).
Lactantius thought that the destruction of the world would take place in the
five hundredth year after Christ (Div. lust. B. i. c. 25).
Others, called Chiliasts, assigned to the world a duration of a thousand years
after Christ, founding that on the words of S. John Apoc. xx. 7 : After a thousand
years shall have passed, Satan shall le unbound and shall come out of prison.
A certain Florentine Bishop asserted that Antichrist was born in A.D. 1105
(See Plat, in Paschale ii.).
Peter John, Chief of the Beguines and Beghards, used to say that the reign
of Antichrist would finish in 1335 (Joseph a Costa de Temp, noviss.).
A certain Spaniard, named Arnold, indicated (according to Florimund) the
year 1345 as that in which Antichrist would appear, and fixed on the day of
Pentecost in that year as the time when his disciples would spread themselves
through the world.
Abbot Joachim thought that Antichrist would appear within 60 years from
his own time ; he lived about A.D. 1200.
Peter d Ailly, Bishop of Cambray and Cardinal, predicted from astronomical
observations and calculations that Antichrist would be born in i 789.
Nicholas of Cusa did not hesitate to assert that the coming of Antichrist
would be in A.D. 1700 or 1734.
The illustrious John Picus Mirandola conjectured in his Assertions (Concl. 9)
that Antichrist would appear in 1994.
Jerome Cardan (de Variet. B. ii. c. 2) and James Naclant (in Prcelud. Medulla;
c. 4) thought that Antichrist would come in A.D. 1800.
In a former age, by I know not what itch of prophesying, many, both
astrologers and heretics, occupied themselves with predicting the end of the
world, which continued to exist all the same, and made them its laughing
stock.
John of Konigsberg, a very distinguished mathematician, assigned A.D. 1588
as that which would see the destruction of the world. John Stoffler, an
astronomer not less famous, was of the same opinion ; also Henry de Rantzau,
a Danish nobleman, in his book on fatal years and on the periods of
empires. /c.r.X.
LETTER LVII. 237
but his reply did not convince me that he was right. But
at length he asserted this, that before his own death he
would see a general persecution in the Church.
Concerning another matter, permit me to recall to the
remembrance of your Piety a poor exile named Humbert.
He begged you lately when you were at Troyes to intercede
for him with Count Theobald, who had deprived him of his
goods. I also by this letter entreat for him, and with him,
the same thing of your Piety. I have written 1 on that
subject to intercede with the Prince himself, but have not
succeeded in obtaining the favour which I asked.
One thing I ought to tell you, which I know you will
gladly hear. Stephen, your former disciple, so runs not as
uncertainly, so fights not as one that beateth the air. Pray
for him that he may so run that he may obtain, may so
fight that he may overcome.
LETTER LVII. (Circa A.D. 1128.)
To THE SAME.
Lesser vows ought not to be a motive to hinder greater
spiritual progress. This seems to be written , if I do not
mistake, in the cause of the monk who is the subject of
Letter 55.
As this man has reported to me from you, you have
declined up to the present to accede to his desire and
petition, because it seems to you to make void his first vow
of proceeding to Jerusalem. Upon which, if you ask my
opinion, I consider that more important vows ought not to
be hindered by less important ; and that God will not
require the fulfilment of a good vow if it has been dis
charged by the performance of one still better. For would
you be right to complain of a debtor who owed you twelve
pence if on the appointed day he paid you a silver mark ?
1 Letters 37-39.
238 LETTER LVIII.
and if it is from his Bishop that you fear some objection,
you may be sure that not only will you not displease him
by rendering help to this man, but that he will be very
grateful to you. Farewell.
LETTER LVIII. (Circa A.D. 1126.)
To EBAL, BISHOP OF CHALONS-SUR-MARNE.
He begs Ebal to take means for the choosing of a fit
man to preside over the Abbey of All Saints.
To the venerable EBAL, by the grace of God, Lord Bishop
of Chalons, Brother BERNARD, Abbot of Clairvaux, health
and all that the prayers of a sinner can avail.
i. It is not good that you should neglect or disregard the
danger of that little vessel (I speak of the Church of All
Saints ) 1 which is drifting under your eyes, being deprived of
its ruler. It is a matter which belongs to your charge ;
therefore I wonder what motive hinders you in conscience
from requiring the acceptance of the post by that ecclesiastic,
a pious man, as it is said, who has been elected by religious
persons to the same, even although some of the monks of that
abbey show themselves unworthy of your interest by their
carelessness and indifference. I have understood that thev
have nothing to object to him who has been chosen except
that he is religious, and that they have dared to desire your
Greatness to permit them to choose another who appears
to them more agreeable and more affable, because he is
not a stranger to them, but is as agreeable as he is well
known to the citizens, and being well acquainted with the
customs of the country is gratified for transacting the busi
ness of the Church. In reality that which you ask (I should
reply to those very cautious advisers) is someone who will
not object to your faults, and who will either consent or will
1 This was the Abbey of regular Canons of the Order of S. Augustine at
Chalons-sur-Marne. Hugo Metellus, regular Canon of S. Leo at Toul, in Lor
raine, wrote a Letter (unedited) to Peter, the abbot of this Church, perhaps the
first after the reform.
LETTER LVIII. 239
not dare to oppose himself to your objectionable way of
life. These are not to be listened to, but rather, whether
they wish it or no, action ought to be taken by you, so
as to put at the head of that unfortunate Church this man,
whose reputation is unquestioned, since, if he is such as he
is reported to be, God will, without doubt, be with him,
will pour His grace upon him, that he may be acceptable
to all and successful in all his enterprises.
2. If those people are altogether unworthy of him and
he cannot by any means be obtained for the post, let another
be sought out who shall seem fit, from some other religious
house ; not such a person as those people desire, who desire
nothing but what flatters their carnal tastes, but one who,
as he knows how to manage the temporal administration, so
also is able to prefer the care of souls in all things. Under
the Lord William, your predecessor of holy memory, the
two monasteries of S. Peter and S. Urban l were similarly
deprived of pastoral care ; he was not deterred by the
length of the journey, nor by the severity of the winter, but
came in person twice to Cluny, and, if I do not mistake,
once to Dijon. Thence he obtained a good man, Lord Hugo,
who afterwards died, and from Cluny Lord Radulf, whom
he had sought with many prayers, and who still survives.
These he placed one over each monastery, not judging it
safe to commit that charge to any one of the monks on the
spot; which I have adduced as an example, for this reason
that I may impress upon your charity how it becomes you
to act with no less caution and care in this matter which is
now in your hands.
1 These were two monasteries of Benedictines, afterwards under the Congre
gation of S. Vito, the first in the town itself, the second in the Diocese of
Chalons-sur-Marne, which William of Champeaux reformed.
240 LETTER LIX.
LETTER LIX. (A.D. 1129.)
To GuiLENCUs, 1 BISHOP OF LANGRES.
He counsels him, in order to take away any occasion for
scandal and calumny, to abandon to the Church of S.
Stephen at Dijon, certain articles -which Gamier had left
there on dying.
To his lord and father GUILENCUS, by the Grace of God,
Bishop of Langres, Brother BERNARD, Abbot of Clairvaux,
health and his entire devotion.
On hearing of the death of the Archdeacon Dom
Gamier 2 I have thought it necessary to address a prayer
to your Paternity and even to press upon you my advice,
if you will deign to attend to the suggestions of one so
humble. As relates to the goods which the late Abbot
possessed in the Church of S. Stephen at Dijon, have the
generosity to renounce the rights that you have over these
things. I know well that they ought to return to you
as I remember was arranged and settled in writing in the
Chapter of Langres, when your son Harbert was constituted
the first regular abbot of that house. But because I know
that for you on any account to assert your rights over these
properties which that Church has so long held would be an
occasion of grave scandal to the Canons and of great
reproach to the Abbot, whom they would accuse of having
by coming among them established a bad precedent, since
it was because of him and at his coming that their Church
sustained so great a loss, I beg you, therefore, and at the
same time advise and entreat you, to spare so great a
1 Wilencus or, as others write, Guillermus. He had been Archdeacon of
Langres. Perard, Burgund. Minium., p. 87.
2 He had been Abbot of S. Stephen at Dijon, before regular canons were intro
duced there, which was done in 1113, in which year the four canons retired to
Quincy to lead there the life of regulars. In 1 116, then numbering twelve, they
returned to their former house. That house was governed up to 1125 by the
Priors Arnulf and afterwards Galo; and that year Dom Erbert or Harbert was
instituted as abbot in the presence of Hubaud, Archbishop of Lyons ; Stephen,
Bishop of Autun ; Goceran, or Josceran, Bishop of Langres, and other persons
(Perard).
LETTER LX. 241
scandal to so many feeble servants of Christ, and at the
same time to free this vicar of Christ from such a reproach
by conceding to this Church what has been theirs so long. 1
LETTER LX. (Circa A.D. 1128.)
To THE SAME.
He intercedes for the Abbey of Molesme.
I hope that you will not think me an importunate meddler
if I approach you to intercede on behalf of the Abbey of
Molesme. There are many motives which encourage me
to believe that I need not fear a refusal from you. First,
because the house for which I make request is not a foreign
one ; it depends upon you. Next, that it asks only its
right from your justice, and is not usurping that which
belongs to another; and, thirdly, that our request is joined
in by such a person as would be sufficient to obtain even
a greater thing from your kindness. I mean Count
Theobald. If I presume to add a fourth, it is with diffi
dence that I do so. For neither have I such distrust in my
humility but that I would venture, if need were, to commit
myself to your long-tried kindness in making any request
that might be reasonable. Farewell.
1 That was. in fact, done by Guilencus in 1129, as we learn from a charter
published by Perard (p. 97) and subscribed by many other persons, among
others by the Abbots of Citeaux and Clairvaux, assembled at Langres. In the
same year a controversy, which was between the same Church and the monks
of S. Seine, was settled by the same Josceran at the advice and with the counsel
of Gautier, Bishop of Chalons-sur-Saone, and the abbots of Citeaux, Busay, and
Clairvaux (//., p. 102). The matter was afterwards submitted to Pope
Innocent, who remitted the decision to Stephen, Abbot of Cistell, and Bernard of
Clairvaux (p. 103). See how Bernard alone exercised influence over all things,
and alone was in the habit of closing all lawsuits and controversies (Mabillon s
note).
VOL. I. l6
242 LETTER LXI.
LETTER LXI. (Circa A.D. 1125.)
To RICUIN, BISHOP OF TOUL, IN LORRAINE.
He sends back to the Bishop a man who had been sent to
him for the purpose of undergoing penitence, and charges
him "with his restoration.
To the Reverend Lord and Father RiCUiN, 1 by the grace
of God, Bishop of Toul, Brother BERNARD, Abbot of Clair-
vaux, health and prayers.
For this sinner whom your Worthiness has thought fit to
send to me, who am myself a sinner, for spiritual advice, as
he says, I have no wiser counsel at the present than that
he should return to the bosom of your fatherly goodness,
and should learn his duty from the mouth of the priest ; for
I, in order to remain within the narrow limits of my powers
and my office, which I ought not to transgress, am not at
all accustomed to impose penance, especially for great
faults, on anyone but those alone who are under my juris
diction. For what rashness \vould it be in me, a sinner,
and inexperienced as I am, to undertake episcopal func
tions and matters so important? Ought I not also, just as
other men, to have recourse, as is proper, to the opinion of
the bishop, as often as there presents itself among us some
affair more weighty than usual, which either I know not,
or dare not, or am unable to settle by myself ; and am I not
far from secure until I have been fortified by the opinion
and advice of my bishop ? Let this poor diseased sheep be
provided for, then, by his own pastor, who is one who well
knows the canons, with a suitable medicine of penance,
that a soul for which Christ died may not (which God
forbid) die in sin, and the Chief Pastor require his blood at
your hand. But I have persuaded him to leave the world
since God has given him a thought of so doing ; if by your
intercession he may obtain the favour of being received,
1 Ricuin died in 1 1 26, from whence it follows that this Letter cannot be later
than that year. On the other hand, it appears certain that it cannot have been
written before 1124, since the Letter implies that Bernard already had a certain
celebrity for his teaching. Letter 396 is addressed to the same Ricuin.
LETTER LXII.
243
though an old man and poor, into some monastery of holy
men within your diocese. May God one day receive you,
holy and venerable father, full of days and good works, into
the sacred habitations in which one day is better than a
thousand passed elsewhere.
LETTER LXII. (Before A.D. 1129.)
To HENRY/ BISHOP OF VERDUN.
He recommends to the bishop a woman laden with many
sins, but now penitent.
To the Lord HENRY, by the grace of God, Bishop of
Verdun, Brother BERNARD, Abbot of Clairvaux, health and
prayers.
This poor woman, whom already Satan has bound, lo !
these many years, with many and tangled knots of sin, has
sought counsel respecting her salvation from me, though
unworthy, and has been advised by me ; but after many and
daily wanderings this poor lost sheep should return with
confidence to the fold of her own pastor. You will succour
her with the more care and speed in her distress inasmuch
as you know perfectly well that you will render a strict
account of her safety to the Lamb who has died for her and
has committed her to your care. It was our duty to correct
her when wandering, it is yours not to despise her as a
sinner, but to receive her as a penitent ; and if her un
happy history which she has told me be true, to reconcile
her to her former husband, if he still lives, or if he is un-
\villing to receive her, to oblige both the one and the other
to live in single life. Farewell.
1 Concerning him, see Letter 48, where we have noted that he resigned his
see in 1129, at the advice of Bernard.
244 LETTER LXIII.
LETTER LXIII. (Circa A.D. 1128.)
To THE SAME.
He justifies himself respecting an imprudence of which
he had been accused; he seeks his friendship, and com
mends to him the Abbot Guy.
Respecting those matters about which it has pleased
your Excellency to make inquiry of me, either I am
deceived or he who has reported them to you misinforms
you. If there is any foundation of truth in those reports
(for I distrust my memory, which, I know, is defective, and
I would not suspect such great falseness in the brother who
has spoken to you about them), at least I am quite sure,
and you may believe without doubt this, that I have never
used a word of blame against you at any time or to any
person, nor made any accusation. May such rashness be
far from a humble person like myself as to dare to speak
against bishops, especially in their absence, about matters
which do not concern me, and of which, besides, I have no
correct knowledge. I gratefully accept the honour which
you have done me in deigning to wish for my acquaintance,
and I desire both that I should be better known to you and
that you should know me better. It is with the same con
fidence in the goodness of your Highness that I address to
you a request, or rather a recommendation, in favour of
that monastery which my reverend brother and co-abbot
Dom Guy, of Trois-Fontaines, has undertaken to erect under
your protection, and, as they say, at your request. I shall
see in that which you do for him what is your regard for
me, and I shall hold as done for myself all that you are so-
good as to do in his favour. Farewell.
LETTER LXIV. 245
LETTER LXIV. (Circa A.D. 1129.)
TO ALEXANDER, 1 BlSHOP OF LINCOLN.
A certain canon named Philip, on his way to Jerusalem,
happening to turn aside to Clairvaux, wished to remain
there as a monk. He solicits the consent of ^Alexander,
his bishop, to this, and begs him to sanction arrange
ments with the creditors of Philip. He finishes by
exhorting Alexander not to trust too much in the glory of
the world.
To the very honourable lord, ALEXANDER, by the Grace
of God, Bishop of Lincoln, BERNARD, Abbot of Clairvaux,
wishes honour more in Christ than in the world.
1. Your Philip, wishing to go to Jerusalem, has found
his journey shortened, and has quickly reached the end
that he desired. He has crossed speedily this great and
wide sea, and after a prosperous voyage has now reached
the desired shore, and anchored at length in the harbour of
salvation. His feet stand already in the Courts of Jeru
salem, and Him whom he had heard of in Ephrata he has
found in the broad woods, and willingly worships in the
place where his feet have stayed. He has entered into the
Holy City, and has obtained an heritage with those of
whom it is rightly said : Now ye are no longer strangers
and foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the saints and of
the household of God (Ephesians ii. 19). He goes in and
out with the saints, and is become as one of them, praising
God and saying as they : Our conversation is in heaven
(Philip, iii. 20). He is become, therefore, not a curious
spectator only, but a devoted inhabitant and an enrolled
citizen of Jerusalem ; but not the Jerusalem of this world
with which is joined Mount Sinai, in Arabia, which is
in bondage with her children, but of her who is above, who
is free, and the mother of us all (Gal. iv. 25-26).
2. And this, if you are willing to perceive it, is Clair
vaux. This is Jerusalem, and is associated by a certain
1 This Alexander was Bishop of Lincoln in England from 1123 to I( 47
246 LETTER LXIV.
intuition of the spirit, by the entire devotion of the heart,
and by conformity of daily life, with her which is in
heaven. This shall be, as he promises himself, his rest for
ever. He has chosen her for his habitation, because with
her is, although not yet the realization, at least the expec
tation, of true peace of which it is said : The peace of God
which passes all understanding (Philip, iv. 17). But this is
true happiness ; although he has received it from above, he
desires to embrace it with your good permission, or rather
he trusts that he has done this according to your wish, know
ing that you are not ignorant of that sentence of the wise
man, that a wise son is the glory of his father. 1 He makes
request, therefore, of your Paternity, and we also make
request with him and for him, to be so kind as to allow the
payments which he has assigned to his creditors 2 from his
prebend to remain unaltered, so that he may not be found
(which God forbid) a defaulter and breaker of his covenant,
and so that the offering of a contrite heart, which he makes
daily, may not be rejected by God, inasmuch as any brother
has a claim against him. And lastly, he entreats that the
house which he has built for his mother upon Church land,
with the ground which he has assigned there, may be pre
served to his mother during her life. Thus much with
regard to Philip.
3. I have thought well to add these few words for your
self, of my own accord, or rather at the inspiration of God,
and venture to exhort you in all charity, not to look to the
glory of the world which passeth away, and to lose that
which abides eternally ; not to love your riches more than
yourself, nor for yourself, lest you lose yourself and them
also. Do not, while present prosperity smiles upon you,
forget its certain end, lest adversity without end succeed it.
Let not the joy of this present life hide from you the sorrow
1 Prov. x. i. Bernard always quotes this passage thus. In the VULGATE it
is, Filius sapiens l&tificat patrem.
2 Letter 18 from the Abbot Philip to Alexander the Third is on a very
similar subject, and begs that the property of the Archdeacon of Orleans,
who had become a monk, should be given up to his creditors (Biblioth, Cisterc.
Vol. i. p. 246).
LETTER LXV. 247
which it brings about, and brings about while it hides. Do
not think death far off, so that it come upon you unprepared,
and while in expectation of long life it suddenly leaves you
when ill-prepared, as it is written : When they say Peace
and safety, then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as
travail upon a woman with child, and they shall not escape
(i Thess. v. 3). Farewell.
LETTER LXV. (Circa A.D. 1129.)
To ALVISUS, ABBOT OF ANCHIN.
He praises the fatherly gentleness of Alvisus towards
Godwin. He excuses himself, and asks pardon for having
admitted him.
To ALVISUS, Abbot of Anchin. 1
i . May God render to you the same mercy which you have
shown towards your holy son Godwin. I know that at the
news of his death you showed yourself unmindful of old
complaints, and remembering only your friendship for him,
behaved with kindness, not resentment, and putting aside
the character of judge, showed yourself a father in circum
stances that required it. Therefore, you strove to render to
him all the duties of charity and piety which a father
ought to render to a son. What better, what more praise
worthy, what more worthy of yourself could you have
done ? But who believed this ? Truly no one knows what
is in man, except the spirit of man which is in him
1 A monastery of the Benedictine Order on the river Scarpe two miles from
Douai. It dates from 1029, and was at first named S. Saviour. It was situated
on an island named Anchin, and was founded by two illustrious persons, Siclier
and Gautier, under the episcopate of Gerard II.. Bishop of Cam bray, to whose
diocese that place then belonged. The monks of Anchin were associated
with the congregation of Cluny, whose reform they accepted in 1110. The
name and glory of Anchin were greatly increased by the College in the Academy
of Douai, which John Lentailler, the very worthy abbot of that place, gave with
remarkable and praiseworthy generosity to the Fathers of the Society of Jesus
Alvisus, who is mentioned in Letter 66, became Bishop of Arras, on which Anchin
depended, in 1131. Letter 395 is addressed to him.
248 LETTER LXV.
(i Cor. ii. n). Where is now that austerity, that severity,
that indignation which tongue, eyes, and countenance were
accustomed to display and terribly to pour upon him ?
Scarcely is the death of your son named to you than your
fatherly bosom is moved. Suddenly all these sentiments
which were adopted for a purpose, and therefore only for a
time, disappeared, and those which were truly yours, but
were concealed charity, piety, benignity appeared.
Therefore in your pious mind mercy and truth have met
together, and because mercy has certainly prevailed over
judgment, righteousness and peace have kissed each other
(Ps. Ixxxv. 10). For as far as I seem to be able to form an
idea, I think I see what passed in your mind then, when
truth, fired with zeal for justice, prepared to avenge the
injury which it seemed to you had been done. The senti
ment of mercy which, after the example of Joseph, prudently
dissimulated at first, yet not enduring longer to be con
cealed, and in this also like to Joseph (Gen. xlv. i), burst
forth from the hidden fount of piety, and making common
cause w-ith truth, repressed agitation, calmed wrath, made
peace with justice.
2. Then from the pure and peaceful fountain of your
heart poured forth like limpid streams such thoughts as
these : What need have I to be angry ? Would it not
be better to pity him, and not to forget what is written,
/ will have mercy and not sacrifice (Hos. vi. 6), and to
fulfil what is ordered, Study to keep the unity of the
Spirit in the bond of peace (Eph. iv. 3), so as to be able to
count on what is promised, Blessed are the merciful, for
they shall obtain mercy (S. Matt. v. 7) ? After all, was not
that man my son ? And \vho can rage against his son ?
unless, perhaps, he was only then my son when he was
with me, and not also when he deserted me. In withdraw
ing from me in body for a time, has he withdrawn equally
from my heart, or can even death take him away from me ?
Must the necessity of the body and of place so hamper the
freedom of souls which love each other ? I am quite sure
that neither distance of places, nor the absence, or even the
LETTER LXV. 249
death, of our bodies would be able to disjoin those whom
one spirit animates, one affection binds together. Finally,
if the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God (Wisd.
iii. i), we, both those who are already at rest, having laid
dow r n the burden of the flesh, and those who, being still in the
flesh, do not war according to the flesh, beyond a doubt are
still together. Mine he was when living, mine he will be
dead, and I shall recognize him as mine in the common
fatherland. If there is any who is able to tear him from the
Hands of God, then he may be able to separate him from
me also.
3. Thus your affection, father, has enabled you to make
excuses for your son. But what has it said of me, or what
satisfaction from me will be worthy of you, which you
could impose for the great injury inflicted upon you, because
when your son left you he was received by me ? What
can I say ? If I should plead I have not received him
(would I were able to say so without sin) it would be a
falsehood. If I should plead I received him, indeed, but
w r ith good reason, I should seem to wish to excuse myself.
The safer way will be to answer, I did wrong. But how far
did I do wrong ? I do not say it by way of defence, but by
whom would he not be received ? Who, I say, would repel
that good man from his door when he knocked, or expel
him when once received ? But who knows if God did not
wish to supply our need out of your abundance, so that He
directed to us one of the many holy men who were then in
great number in your house, for our consolation, indeed,
but none the less for a glory to you ? For a wise son is the
glory of his father (Prov. x. i). Moreover, I did not make
any solicitation to him beforehand. I did not gain him
over by promises to desert you or to come to us. Quite on
the contrary, God is my witness. I did not consent to
receive him until he begged me to do so, until he knocked
at my door and entreated to have it opened, until I had
tried to send him back to you, but as he would not agree
to that I at length yielded to his importunity. But if it is
a fault that I received him, a monk, a stranger, alone, and
250 LETTER LXVI.
received him in the way I did, it will not be unworthy of
you to pardon such a fault, which was committed once only,
for it is not lawful for you to deny forgiveness even to those
who sin against you seventy times seven.
4. But yet I wish that you should know that I do not
treat this matter lightly or negligently, and on the contrary
that I cannot pardon myself for ever having offended your
Reverence in any manner. I call God to witness that often
I have in mind (since I was not able to do it in body) thrown
myself at your feet as a suppliant, and I often see myself
before you making apology on my knees. Would that the
Holy Spirit who perhaps inspired me with these feelings
make you also feel with what tears and regrets worthy
of pity I humble myself at this moment before your knees
as if you were present. How many times with bare
shoulders, and bearing the rods in my hands, prepared, as it
were, to strike at your bidding; I seek your pardon, and
trembling wait for your forgiveness ! I earnestly desire,
my father, to learn from you, if it is not too painful for you
to write to me, that you receive my excuses, so that if they
are sufficient I may be consoled by your indulgence, but if
on the contrary I must be more humiliated (as it is just)
that I may endeavour, whatever else I can do, to give you
fuller satisfaction. Farewell.
LETTER LXVI. (Circa A.D. 1129.)
To GEOFFREY, ABBOT OF S. MEDARD. 1
He begs Geoffrey s help in reconciling him with Abbot
Alvisus, and consoles him in his tribulations.
To Dom GEOFFREY, Abbot of S. Medard, Brother
BERNARD, unworthy superior of Clairvaux, health ever
lasting.
1 All the printed copies, and MSS., which I have seen, except one, have S. Thierry,
but it should be read S. Medard, as in the Corbey copy, from which I restore the
following inscription, which is wanting in others, except in Spicilegium, Vol. iii.,
Domiio. etc. But although Geoffrey was successively Abbot of St. Medard at
Soissons, and S. I hierry at Rheims, he was then Abbot of S. Medard, when this
LETTER LXVI. 251
In the first place, I beg that you would be so good as to
forward the enclosed letter to the lord Abbot of Anchin,
and that you would not fail to do what you can in favour of
your absent friend, as opportunity shall serve, that he obtain
that which it asks. For I ought not to conceal the cause of
offence, whether just or unjust, which anyone, and especially
so venerable a father has against me ; which that I may not
do, I should perhaps have been better able to explain my
meaning better by speech than by writing, for in such
matters word of mouth is wont to be more acceptable than
written words, and the tongue than the pen. The expres
sion of the eye gives confidence in the words. Nor is the
hand able to express our sentiments as is the countenance.
But now not being able in my absence to do as I would, I
have recourse to you to give satisfaction as far as I can. I
entreat you, then, again and again to take away, as far as
in you lies, this offence from the kingdom of God, \vhich is
on our account, lest if this resentment endure (which may
God forbid) until the day when the Angels shall be charged
themselves to take away that offence, we may both be left
without excuse. Concerning the tribulations of which you
complained to me some time since, you know that it is said,
The Lord is nigh ^lnto them who are of a troubled spirit
(Ps. xxxiv. 1 8). Trust in Him because He hath overcome
the world. He knows among what people you are dwelling,
and those who trouble you are in His sight. He who now
tries you by the waters of persecution, He will grant you a
refuge from the tempest. Farewell.
Letter was written. For it was written, as can be gathered from the order of the
Letters, before the year 1131, in which Geoffrey was raised to the Bishopric of
Chalons-sur-Marne from the Abbacy of S. Medard, which he had held since
1119. He had been previously Abbot of S. Thierry for eight years.
252 LETTER LXVII.
LETTER LXVII. (Circa A.D. 1125.)
TO THE MONKS OF FLAY. 1
He justifies his reception of B., a monk, as being from
a monastery entirely unknown to him, and having just
causes for his departure.
To Dom H., Superior of the Convent of Flay, and to the
brethren who are with him, the brethren in Clairvaux wish
health.
i. We learn by your letter that your Reverence is
aggrieved because we have received one of your monks
among us. I also am much grieved, fearing that this
grief of yours be not that whereof the. Apostle said : Ye
were made sorry according to God (2 Cor. vii. 9). For if
it had been according to God it would not have so provoked
you, and you would not have shown so much bitterness
and violence in the reproaches which you make to us, the
first time that you write to us, since although we are un-
1 Thus, after the best MSS., and not of Flavigny (Flaviniacenses), as
Horstius and some others affirm. The context furnishes three convincing proofs
of this. For. first, Bernard asserts in this Letter to the monks, to whom he
writes : " We have had no knowledge of nor have we ever heard the least
mention of your house, nor of the sanctity of your life, up to the present time.
Then he adds : "We are separated from each other by a longdistance, by
different provinces, and by difference of language." And, lastly : " Not only
are we not resident in the same diocese, but we do not belong to the same
archbishopric." And it is too evident to need proof that these expressions do
not at all apply to the Abbey of Flavigny. For Flavigny is a town in the
Duchy of Burgundy, not far from Fontaines, where Bernard was born, nor a
very great distance from Clairvaux, having an Abbey of Benedictines, which
was in the Diocese of Autun, the Archbishopric of Lyons, just as Clairvaux
was, and which possessed the relics of a holy queen. We must, therefore,
restore "of Flay" (Flaviacenses), a little village of the Diocese of Beauvais, on the
Epte, where S. Germer founded, in 650, a famous monastery of Benedictines ;
whence it was sometimes called Flay, sometimes S. Germer of Flay.
As for the name of the abbot, whom Bernard indicates by his first Letter to
Dom H., Abbot of Flay, I think that it is no other than Hildegaire I., who
was Abbot of Flay from 1106 to 1123, as is stated in the Catalogue of
Acherius, following Guibert. But I collect from the order of these Letters that
he was still abbot in 1126. Some think (but wrongly) that Hugo is meant in
this place.
LETTER LXVII. 253
known to you, and we have never yet held communication
by speech or by letter, we are none the less your brethren,
and if you permit me to say so, even your friends. You
wonder, as you write us, that we have received Brother
Benedict 1 among us, and you address threats to us unless
we immediately send him back. You remind us that the
Rule forbids a monk to be received from a known monas
tery, and you are no doubt persuaded that yours is not un
known. But what if it is known to others, provided that it
is not known to us ? Even although, as you tell me, the
reputation of your community has so spread that the
history of your church is known even at Rome ; yet it has,
I know not how, so passed over us, who are a long way
this side of Rome, that we have never heard speak of you
the least in the world, neither of your abbot nor of your
monks, nor of the very name of your house, nor have we
the least knowledge of the sanctity of your life up to the
present time. Nor is that wonderful, considering that we
are separated from each other by a long distance, by
different provinces, and by difference of language. Not
only are we not residing in the same diocese, but we do
not belong to the same archbishopric. We think, then,
that we are prohibited from receiving monks only from
monasteries which are known to us, and not from those
which others know ; otherwise, since there is no monastery
which is not known to somebody, not one would be left
from which monks might properly be received. How,
then, would that be fulfilled which was permitted and even
ordered by the blessed Benedict, that a stranger monk
ought not only to be received as a guest, as long as he
pleases to remain, but also to be urged to remain per
manently, if he is found useful to the community?
2. We, nevertheless, took another course with regard to
the brother before mentioned. For when he came humbly
praying to be received by us he was at first repulsed, and
1 In the printed copies the initial G. is found, in not a few MSS. B. That of
Corhey, which is most highly tstimated, has the full name Benedict, and follow
ing it we have restored the name in several places.
254 LETTER LXVII.
then bidden to return to his own monastery. But he not
being willing to do this, betook himself to a hermitage near
us, and there dwelt quietly almost seven months, without
any evil report of him arising. But not thinking it safe
for himself to live alone, he was not ashamed, after this
first repulse, to ask of us again what he had asked before.
We a second time admonished him about his return, and
when we inquired the cause of his departure he said : " My
abbot treated me not as a monk but as a physician. 1 He
obliged me to serve, or rather he himself served by means
of me, not God, but the world ; since, in order not to incur
the ill-will of secular princes, he used to compel me to give
medical care to tyrants, robbers, and excommunicate. I
declared to him both in public and in private the peril which
my soul incurred ; but as this was to no purpose, I at
length, relying on the advice of certain wise men, fled from
the destruction of my soul, not from religion or from my
community. Do not reject one who seeks salvation, open
the door to one who knocks." At the sight of his perse
verance, having heard his reason, and knowing no ill of
him, we granted him admission ; we approved him after
his time of probation, we admitted him to make profession,
and now we consider him as one of us. We did not com
pel him to enter, and now we will not oblige him to depart.
And if we should drive him out he would not (as he asserts)
return to you, but would fly still farther from you. Cease
then, brethren, to persecute unoffending people with un
merited reproaches, and to trouble them with useless letters,
because we will not be provoked even by reiterated insults
to reply to you otherwise than with respect ; nor will we be
terrified into not keeping among us a monk whom we
believe that we have received according to the Rule.
1 Formerly clerks and monks used to act as physicians. As to clerks,
Christianus Lupus shows that in notes upon various Letters, both of the Ephesine
and Chalcedonian Council (p. too, et seqq.} As to monks, various examples
are cited, of which a remarkable one is in Lupus Ferrariensis Ep. 72, respecting
Dido, Abbot of Sens. Modern law forbids the practice of medicine to monks as
well as to clergy. (Mabillon s note.)
LETTER LXVIII. 255
LETTER LXVIII.
To THE SAME, UPON THE SAME SUBJECT.
To the Reverend the Abbot of Flay, to the brethren of
that convent, and to certain others, Brother BERNARD
wishes health.
MY GOOD BRETHREN,
1. It would have been a proof of moderation on your
part had you shown yourselves satisfied with my former
explanation in answer to your complaint, and refrained
from harassing those who do not deserve it. But as to
your former attacks you have added greater ones, and have
thrown among us new germs of discord (which, we trust,
will no more be fruitful than the former were), and as by
not replying I may seem to acknowledge fault where there
is none, I reply truthfully a second time to what you angrily
object. This is the whole of my fault, which you consider
so great; this the vast injustice that I have done to you ;
that a monk, alone, a wanderer, poor, miserable, flying from
peril to his soul, seeking earnestly his own salvation, at his
earnest application and request we have received ; or that
having thus received him, we do not eject him without
cause, and so make ourselves prevaricators, destroyers of
what we have built. For this we are considered trans
gressors of the Rule, of the canons, of the law of nature
itself ! You demand with indignation, why we have pre
sumed to admit among us a monk of yours, excommunicated
by you, which we would not suffer ourselves. But as to the
excommunication, why need we reply, when you give a
sufficient reply yourselves for us, since you know without
doubt that he was received by us, before he was excom
municated by you ? But if he was regularly received, it is
a monk under our jurisdiction and not under yours, that
you have excommunicated : and you will see, whether that
was rightly done.
2. It remains therefore to be ascertained, whether he
was rightly received ; and this is the sole question between
256 LETTER LXVIII.
us. You indeed, since you cannot deny that a monk may
regularly be received from a monastery that is unknown,
contend that yours was known to us. We deny it, and you
do not believe us. But if you do not believe us in a simple
denial, do so when we affirm by oath. I take God to witness
that I did not know you, and do not know you ; I have re
ceived the writings of unknown persons and I have replied
to unknown persons. I feel indeed your violence and your
attacks, but yet I am not acquainted with the assailants
themselves. But you for the purpose of convincing me of
pretended ignorance, employ the crushing argument that
those cannot be unknown to me whose name, that of the
abbot and of the monastery itself I have placed in my
letters ; as if when you know the names of things you know
the things themselves also. Since in that case I have the
pleasure to know the names of Michael and Gabriel and
Raphael, by the mere hearing of these words, I am already
blessed by the knowledge of those blessed spirits them
selves. It is no small profit to me, I say, if because I have
learned from the Apostle to call by their names Paradise
and the third Heaven, I have therefore, though not rapt
thither with the Apostle, learned the secrets of Heaven from
their names alone, and heard unspeakable words which it
is not lawful for man to utter. Foolish am I who, already
knowing the name of my God, yet still groan superfluously
every day, I know not why; uselessly sighing with the
Prophet, and saying, Thy face O Lord will I seek (Ps.
xxvii. 8). And When shall I come to appear before God
(Ps. xlii. 2). And: Show us Thy Face, and we shall be saved
(Ps. Ixxx. 3).
3. But what is it we do towards you which we are unwill
ing to be done towards us ? Do you suppose that we are un
willing that any monk departing from our monastery should
be received in any other ? Would that you might be able
to save without us all those committed to us. If any monk of
ours should have passed over to you for the sake of greater
perfection, or from the desire of a severer life, not only are
we not offended if you assist him in so good a wish, but we
LETTER LXVIII. 257
earnestly entreat you to do so : nor should we complain as
persons offended, but confess ourselves to have received a
great service. Then you deny what we had heard of you,
that Brother B. as long as he was with you, practised the
medical art by your consent or even by your order upon
secular persons, and you accuse of falsehood him who has
said this. Whether he has told the truth I know not ; let
him see to it; but this I know, that if he practised medicine,
whether of his own accord, as you declare, or to obey you,
as he testifies, he exposed his soul to great dangers. Who,
then, could be so inhuman as not to help a person in such
peril if he were able, or to counsel him if he were not able ?
And if, as you assert, that it was not compelled by obedi
ence but by the desire of gain for himself, or a taste for
wandering, that he used to travel about here and there
making merchandise of his art ; what cause existed for his
leaving you ? Was it because by the tightening of pastoral
discipline, that was no longer permitted to him which had
been permitted before ? But in that case why did you,
when he was with us, wishing to recall him, promise him
that he should remain quiet in the convent, for the purpose
of persuading him to return ; unless that you knew that the
man wished for this, and remembered that he had asked for
it ? but he, having already obtained among strangers what
he could not obtain among his own, nor desiring to quit the
certain for the uncertain, has held fast what he already en
joyed, despising what was offered to him too late.
4. Cease, then, my brethren, cease, from being careful for
a brother for whom it is not at all needful that you should
take care : unless, perhaps, which I hope is not the case,
you seek your own interests and not those of Jesus Christ,
and love more the advantage which you derive from him
than his salvation. For since he was always when among
you a rolling stone, 1 and, as you write, expending for his
own purposes what he acquired by his art, against the obli
gations of his condition and the command of his abbot ; let
those who love him rejoice, because by the pity of God he
1 Gyro vagus.
VOL. I. 17
258 LETTER LXIX.
has, while among us, been entirely cured. For we give our
testimony to him that never now does he wander abroad
on any pretence, but remains quietly in the monastery;
he lives without complaint as a poor man among poor men.
Far from regarding, as you say, the first engagements which
he made as null and void, he now considers them valid, and
accomplishes them all without exception, which, when with
you, he failed to do ; and this with a regularity and perfect
obedience without which he deceives himself who trusts in
his stability of place. I entreat you, then, brethren, that
your indignation may now be calmed and your inquietude
cease. But if otherwise, do what you please, write as you
please, persecute me as much as you please ; charity
endures all things, suffers all things. For I am quite re
solved not to abandon on account of this matter the purest
affection, the deepest respect, and a brotherly consideration
towards you.
LETTER LXIX.
To Guv, 1 ABBOT OF TROIS FONTAINES. 2
He instructs Guy what to do. The latter had conse
crated by mistake a Chalice, in which, by oversight of the
servers, there was no wine.
i. I know, my dear friend, that you are distressed, and I
praise you for being so, if your distress be not excessive ;
for you are, I believe, distressed, as the Apostle says,
1 He was the second abbot of Trois Fontaines, and has been already praised
in Letter 63 ; he had succeeded Roger, the first abbot, in 1 1 29. See, respecting his
death, Letter 71.
2 The Abbey of Trois Fontaines, first daughter house of Clairvaux, was
founded, as William, Abbot of S. Thierry, states (Life of S. Bernard, B. i. c. 13),
in 1 1 18, in the Diocese of Chalons-sur-Marne, with the assistance of William of
Champeaux, then Bishop of that see.
It was by the Abbey of Trois Fontaines that was created that of Haute Fon
taine, in the same Diocese of Chalons-sur-Marne.
It was another abbey of Trois Fontaines, or of SS. Vincent and Anastasius, at
Tres Fontes, near Rome, to which abbey the election of Abbot Turold refers, o f
which mention is made in Letter 306.
LETTER LXIX. 259
according to God (2 Cor. vii. 9) ; nor is it doubtful that
sorrow of this kind will be one day changed into joy.
Therefore, be angry and sin not, for you will sin not less
by too much anger than by no anger at all. For not to be
angry when where is cause for anger is to be unwilling to
correct what is wrong ; but to be more angry than there is
cause for being is to add sin to sin ; and if it is wrong not
to correct what is wrong, how much more would it not be
to increase it ? If judgment depended on the issue of
actions inculpated, your sorrow, however great, could not
be blamed, since, unquestionably, it rests on the fact that
the fault had been great. For a fault would appear the
graver the more sacred is the matter which it is concerned
with. But as it is the motive and not the matter, the in
tention and not the result of actions which distinguishes
between praise and blame, according to the word of the
Lord, If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of
light : but if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of
darkness (S. Matt. vi. 22, 23); therefore, in the examination
of your act, I consider the dignity of holy things is not so
much the point to be regarded as your own intention.
Furthermore, our Prior and I, after thinking over the whole
matter privately and consulting together about it, decided
that in it there was ignorance on your part, and negligence
on the part of the servers ; but evidently no ill intention in
either. And you know well that no work is good unless it
be founded in good will. How then can an act not done
with consent of the will be a great sin ? Otherwise, if it
were the case that without the assent of the will, a g-ood
> o
action indeed obtains no approval, but a bad one severe
punishment ; that would be as much as to say, that for
one and the same cause both evil is reckoned and good not
credited ; and whosoever thinks thus let him assert, if he
will, that good does not prevail over evil, but that evil
prevails over good.
2. Nevertheless, in order to set at rest your troubled con
science, and lest perhaps this lamentable occurrence should
be a warning of some secret sin lurking still in the monas-
260 LETTER LXIX.
tery, I enjoin upon you by way of penance to recite 1 the
Seven Penitential Psalms daily until Easter, seven times
prostrating yourself, and to receive the discipline seven times.
In this manner also let him who ministered to you at that
Mass make satisfaction. But as for him who had made the
preparations 2 beforehand and had forgotten to put wine into
the chalice, his fault I consider greater than that of others,
and, if you agree with me, I leave him to your judgment. If
a report of this has gone forth among the brethren, I think
that they also should severally receive the discipline, that
that may be fulfilled which is written, Bear ye one another s
burdens (Gal. vi. 2). Afterwards, I greatly approve of your
having poured some wine into the chalice, upon a particle
of the consecrated Host, when the negligence had been
found out, though it was found out too late ; and I consider
that the liquid, though not changed by a proper and solemn
consecration into the Body and Blood of Christ, yet became
hallowed by the contact with the Sacred Body. 3 It is said,
nevertheless, that some other writer, I know not whom,
was of another opinion, and thought that the Sacrifice could
not be without the three bread, wine, and water ; so that
if either of the three should be in any case wanting, the
other two were not consecrated. But on this point every
one must be satisfied in his own mind.
3. For myself, if the same thing had happened to me, I
should (according to my poor opinion) proceed to repair
the omission in one out of t\vo ways : either that which
you did, or I would rather have iterated the sacred words
from that place where it is said, " Likewise after supper He
took the cup" (simili modo postquam coenatum est), and
1 Decantare, i.f., to recite, in which sense the word is used everywhere among
old writers. "The holy Bishop Ambrose," says the Ven. Bede, speaking con
cerning the Faith, directs the faithful to recite (decantent) the words of the Creed
in matins.
2 Some MSS. have apparaverat.
3 This was also the opinion of James de Vitry, besides the scholastics (Hist.
Occident, p. 427). He proposes the present case (Ibid. 444). See my Comm.in
Ordinem Rom. and our Edmund Martene, de Ritiius monasticis (B. ii. c. 7).
LETTER LXX. 261
so have supplied what remained to do of the sacrifice. 1
For I could not possibly doubt that the Body was already
consecrated, according to the Rite of the Church, since I
have learned from the Church, what she also has learned
from her Lord, to present Bread and Wine together ; yet (I
have not learned) to be confident that the Mystery is con
summated in these together. Since, then, according to the
custom of the Church, the Body is perfected from bread,
before the Blood from wine : if by forgetfulness, that
which is to be consecrated the later, is presented too late,
I do not see why that lateness of the latter should annul
the preceding consecration. For I think that if it had
pleased the Lord, after His Body made from bread, to
intermit for a little while the consecration of the wine, or
even altogether to omit it, none the less His Body which
He had made 2 would have remained, nor would things not
yet done affect those done. It is not that I deny that bread
and wine mixed with water ought to be presented together,
on the contrary, I assert that it ought to be thus done and
not otherwise ; but it is one thing to blame negligence,
and another to deny efficacy (as a result of it) ; in the
one case we assert that all things are not done as they
should be, in the other we deny that they are done at all.
In the meantime, you have here w r hat I think and feel
about this matter, without the least unwillingness to con
sider either your opinion, if it be wiser than mine, or that
of any other better qualified person.
LETTER LXX.
To THE SAME.
Bernard reminds him what feelings of mercy a pastor
ought to have, and ad-vises him to withdraw a sentence
which he had passed upon an offending monk.
1 See General Rubrics of the Mass : chap., " Concerning Defects in Matter ; "
art., " Concerning Defect of Wine."
2 Fecerat, otherwise fucrat.
262 LETTER LXX.
To the Lord Abbot GUY, Brother BERNARD, health, with
the spirit of wisdom and piety. 1
Considering the miserable condition of this unhappy
man, I feel myself touched with pity, but I fear lest it be
in vain. Yet even though he should remain in his unhappy
state I do not think that my pity would be altogether
wasted, but would be of advantage, at least to me. The
pity which I feel is not, however, prompted by any advan
tage to myself, but a brotherly sympathy is produced in
my inmost heart by the misery of a brother. Pity is a
feeling which is not governed by the will, nor subjected to
the reason, nor is anyone drawn to it by deliberate purpose ;
but it necessarily imposes itself of its own accord on com
passionate hearts at the sight of the suffering of others, so
that even if it were a sin to be moved with compassion I
could not help pitying, even if I wished. The reason and
the will would, indeed, be able to prevent our acting upon
the feeling; but could they eradicate the feeling itself?
Far from me be those who would console me by saying
that my prayer shall return unto my own bosom, although
he for whom it is offered is not yet converted. Nor do I
listen to those who flatter me by quoting: The righteous
ness of the righteous shall be upon him (Ezek. xviii. 20)
while the wicked still remains in his impiety. No, I say, I
cannot be consoled while I see the desolation of a brother.
If, then, my dear son, your pious mind is similarly affected,
or rather because it is similarly affected, although that un
happy man seems to have practised shameful and repeated
flight from the monastery after having returned, yet
because he thinks otherwise, you ought to listen, not only
patiently but also willingly to what he humbly urges (how
ever ill-founded), if perchance any reasonable opportunity
may be found for saving a man whose safety is despaired
of; which (as your experience, equally with my own,
teaches) is difficult to find even in cono-reo-ation, but is
/ o o
much more difficult when he is without in the world. Do
not disdain, therefore, having called an assembly of all the
1 This inscription has been restored from the Corbey MS., No. 553.
LETTER LXX. 263
brethren, to recall all the censures that you have launched
against him, insomuch that his contumacy shall be healed
by your humility, and perhaps some means may be found,
without violating the Rule, for receiving him once more.
Nor need you fear that by this retractation you will displease
our just and merciful God, if mercy shall be exalted above
justice. 1 Farewell.
i Out of eight MS. copies of this Letter which I have seen, there are five in
which the following addition is found after these words, viz., two of Citeaux, one
of Vauluisant, one of Corbey, and five of Foucarmont; but in thr;e Colbertine
MSS. it is wanting :
" A similar case, which I remember to have happened to me, I adduce as
an example to you. A certain brother (otherwise Bartholomew) I one day,
carried aivay by anger because he had vexed me, bade ivith threatening voice
and look to go out of the monastery ; he immediately went out, and proceed
ing to one of our farmhouses there remained. Which being known, I unshed
to recall him ; but he replied that he would only return if he might take his
previous order and standing, instead of being last of all; and not as a fugi
tive, but as one rashly and without reasonable judgment dricen forth ;
because, he said, he ought not to submit to the ordinary judgment of the Rule
in returning, as that had not been waited for in expelling him. Not wishing
to decide on his answer and my action myself, since I distrusted my own
judgment on account of a feeling of carnal resentment, I committed the
matter to the judgment of all the brethren. Therefore in my absence it
was decided that his recall ought not to be subject to the precept of the Rule,
as it appeared that his expulsion had not been regularly made. If, then, so
great and pious consideration was shown in the case of one who had once only
gone out of his monastery, ivhat ought not to be shown for your monk in the
situation of peril in ivhich he is ? "
This entire addition appears to me entirely alien as well to the character of
Bernard as to his conduct. That transport of rage, and headlong ejection of a
monk from the convent could never have been found in so good a man. He had
without doubt ardent zeal, but founded on gentleness and clemency, as appears
even in this Letter, where he urges the showing of so much lenity to a deserter.
Besides, if our Saint had fallen into this fault he would rather have buried it in
silence, and striven to efface it by penitence ; nor would he have committed
such an imprudence, as to adduce to Abbot Guy for an example, what would
have been so contrary to the object of Bernard himself, and an occasion of
scandal to Guy. I think, then, that this story was cited at first by some abbot,
perhaps on the margin of a Codex, it may be one of the Cistercian MSS., and
then removed from the margin to the text, and that from this Codex others re
ceived it; but by no means any of those at Clairvaux, which in this matter are
of the greatest weight.
264 LETTER LXXI.
LETTER LXXI. (A.D. 1127.)
To THE MONKS OF THE SAME PLACE.
He excuses himself for having hitherto put off making a
visit to them, not from negligence on his part, but from
waiting for a suitable opportunity ; he consoles them for
the death of their Abbot , Roger.
Do not impute it to negligence that I have not come to
you yet. I care for you indeed as for my own bowels. If
a mother is able to neglect the care of her own child, then
can I be suspected of neglecting you. I have been waiting,
and I am waiting now, only for an opportunity, so that when
I come my visit may not be without profit. In the mean
time, let not your heart be troubled for the departure of
your father. God, we hope, will provide him a worthy suc
cessor. Nor, indeed, is he lost to you ; the Lord has trans
lated him, not taken him entirely away. Only he, who was
your own peculiar property, now belongs to us all as well.
Until I come to you, work bravely, let your hearts be com
forted, and let all your actions be done in charity. Fare
well.
LETTER LXXII.
To RAINALD, ABBOT OF FOIGNY. *
Bernard declares to him how little he loves praise ; that
the yoke of Christ is light ; that he declines the name of
father, and is content with that of brother.
i. In the first place, do not wonder if titles of honour 2
affright me, when I feel myself so unworthy of the honours
1 Foigny, in the Diocese of Laon, one of the daughter houses of Clairvaux.
was founded by Bishop Bartholomew in 1121. Rainald was the first abbot of
that house, and to him this Letter was written. Concerning Foigny, see Letter
5 and Life of S. Bernard, n. 25.
2 Bernard refers to the titles of Dnm (Domnus, for it is written thus) and
Father. Truly a wonderful example of modesty in Bernard to show himself
afraid of titles of dignity, in which others rejoice more than in the dignities them-
LETTER LXXII. 265
themselves ; and if it is fitting that you should give them to
me, it is not expedient for me to accept them. For if you
think that you ought to observe that saying, In honour pre
ferring one another (Rom. xii. 10), and: Submit yourselves
one to another in the fear of God (Eph. v. 21), yet the
terms one another, one to another, are not used at random,
and concern me as well as you. Again, if you think that
the declaration of the Rule is to be observed, "Let the
younger honour their elders," 1 I remember what the Truth
has ruled : The last shall be first, and the first last (S.
Matt. xx. 16), and, He that is the greater among you, let
him be as the younger (S. Luke xxii. 26), and The greater
thou art, the more humble thyself (Ecclus. iii. 18), and Not
because we have dominion over your faith, but are helpers
of your joy (2 Cor. i. 24), and, Have they made thee the
master? Be then among them as one of them (Ecclus. xxxii.
i), and Be ye not called Rabbi ; and Call no man your
father upon the earth (S. Matt, xxiii. 8, 9). As much, then,
selves. We find a similar example (besides those which I have collected above,
in notes on Letter i i) in the Life of the Blessed Mechthildis, c. 10. Sister Mech-
thihlis," says the author, " desired that she should not be called Dame [Domnd],
and refused every appellative of rank ; but the custom of the house and the Rule
of the convent required that she should be called Dume and Abbess." Augustus
(Suetonius, August. Vit. c. 53) always disliked the title of Lord (Dominus) as an
opprobrium and a sort of curse. Tiberius himself regarded it as a kind of out
rage. Thence it came about that writers in later times, wishing to employ an
expression less ambitious, cut off a syllable from the word, and gave the title of
dom to holy personages, Bishops, and others, up to the time of Bernard. So
Severus Sulpicius Ep. 2, " They announce that Dom Martin was dead. So
Gregory the Great, B. i. Ep. 6, and B. vii. Ep. 127; so everywhere in the
Epistles of Diclier of Cahors and in Gregory of Tours, Hist. B. ix. cap 42, from
whom the custom was derived to the Spaniards and Italians. We see also
among the modern Greeks the word xvpios changed into Kvpos, as our Hugh
Menard has very learnedly observed in his notes ad Concord. Regul. cap. 70. Our
holy father Benedict makes mention of this word Domnus in the Rule, c. 63, where
we read : " Let the Abbot, who seems to act in the place of Christ, be called
Domnus and Abbas, not as arrogating it to himself, but for the honour and love
of Christ." And although this name was by the Rule granted to the Abbot only,
^et in process of time it was given, like that of Father, to all monks who were
Priests. (See on this subject Menard i.e. ; Haften B. iii. Dissert. 4 and 5; Jul.
Nigron. in Reg. comm. Sec. Jesu Reg. 22).
1 Rule of S. Benedict cap. 63.
266 LETTER LXXII.
as I am carried away by your compliments, so much am I
restrained by the weight of these texts. Wherefore I
rightly, I do not say sing, but mourn ; While I suffer Thy
terrors I am distracted (Ps. Ixxxviii. 15), and Thou hast
lifted me up and cast me down (Ps. cii. 10). But I should,
perhaps, represent more truly what I feel if I say that he who-
exalts me really humiliates me ; and he who humiliates me,
exalts. You, therefore, rather depress me in heaping me
with terms of honour, and exalt me by humbling. But that
you may not humble so as to crush me, these and similar
testimonies of the Truth console me, which wonderfully
raise up those whom they make humble, instruct while they
humiliate. Thus this same Hand that casts me down
raises me up again and makes me sing with joy. It
was good for me, O Lord, that I was afflicted, that I
might learn Thy statutes ; the law of Thy mouth is good
unto me, above thousands of gold and silver (Ps. cxix. 71,
72). This marvel the word of God, living and efficacious,
produces. This, that Word by which all things are done,
gently and powerfully brings to pass ; this, in short, is the
work of the easy yoke and light burden of Christ (S. Matt..
xi. 30).
2. We cannot but wonder how light is the burden of
Truth. Is not that truly light which does not burden, but
relieves him who bears it ? What lighter than that weight,,
which not only does not burden, but even bears every
one upon whom it is laid to bear? This weight was
able to render fruitful the Virgin s womb, but not
to burden it. 1 This weight sustained the very arms
of the aged Simeon, in which He was received. This
caught up Paul, though with weighty and corruptible
body, into the third heaven. I seek in all things to find if
possible something like to this weight which bears them who
bear it, and I find nothing but the wings of birds which in
any degree resembles it, for these in a certain singular
manner render the body of birds at once more weighty and
more easily moved. Wonderful work of nature ! that at
1 Gravulare ; gravare. [E.]
LETTER LXXI1. 267
the same time increases the material and lightens the
burden, and while the mass is greater the burden is in the
same degree less. Thus plainly in the wings is expressed
the likeness of the burden of Christ, because they them
selves bear that by which they are borne. What shall I say
of a chariot ? This, too, increases the load of the horse by
which it is drawn, but at the same time renders capable of
being drawn a load which without it could not be moved.
Load is added to load, yet the whole is lighter. See also
how the Chariot of the Gospel comes to the weighty load
of the Law, and helps to carry it on to perfection,
while decreasing the difficulty. His word, it is said,
runneth very swiftly (Ps. cxlvii. 15). His word, before
known only in Judea, and not able, because of its weighti-
ness, to extend beyond, which burdened and weighed down
the hands of Moses himself, when lightened by Grace, and
placed upon the wheels of the Gospel, ran swiftly over the
whole earth, and reached in its rapid flight the confines of
the world.
3. Do you, therefore, my very dear friend, cease from
overwhelming me rather than raising with undeserved
honours ; otherwise you range yourself, though with a
friendly intention, in the company of my enemies. These
are they of whom I am in the habit of thus complaining to
God alone in my prayers. Those who praised me were
sworn against me (Ps. cii. 8, VULG.). To this, my com
plaint, I hear God soon replying, and bearing witness to the
truth of my words : Truly they which bless thee lead thec
into error (Is. ix. 16, cited from memory]. Then I reply,
Let them be soon brought to shame who say unto me, There,
There! (Ps. Ixx. 3). But I ought to explain in what
manner I understand these words, that it may not be
thought I launch maledictions or imprecations against any
of my adversaries. I pray, then, that whosoever think of me
above that which they see in me or hear respecting me
may be turned back, that is, return from the excessive
praises which they have given me without knowing me. In
what way ? When they shall know better him whom they
268 LETTER LXXII.
praise without measure, and consequently shall blush for
their error, and for the ill service that they have rendered
to their friend. And in this way it is that I say, Turn
back ! and blush ! to both kinds of my enemies ; those who
wish me evil and commend me in order to flatter, and those
who innocently, and even kindly, but yet to my injury,
praise me to excess. I would wish to appear to them so
vile and abject that they would be ashamed to have praised
such a person, and should cease to bestow praises so
indiscreetly. Therefore, against panegyrists of each kind I
am accustomed to strengthen myself with those two verses :
against the hostile with the former, Let them be turned back
and soon brought to shame -who wish me evil, but against the
well-meaning, Let them be turned back-ward and made to
blush -who say over me, There, There !
4. But as (to return to you) I ought, according to the
example of the Apostle, to rejoice with you only, and not to
have dominion over your piety, and according to the word
of God we have one Father only w r ho is in heaven, and all
we are brethren, I find myself obliged to repel from me with
a shield of truth the lofty name of Lord and Father with
which you have intended, I know well, to honour me, not to
burden ; and in place of these I think it fitter that you
should name me brother and fellow-servant, both because
we have the same heritage, and because w r e are in the same
condition, lest perchance if I should usurp to myself a title
which belongs to God, I shall hear from Him : If I be a
Father -where is my honour, and I be a Lord -where is my
fear? (Mai. i. 6). It is very true, however, that if I do not
wish to attribute to myself over you the authority of a
father, I have all the feelings of one, nor is the love with
which I embrace you less, I think, than that of a father or of
a son. Sufficient, then, on the subject of the titles which
you give me.
5. I wish to reply now to the rest of your letter. You
complain that I do not come to see you. I could complain
equally of you for the same reason, unless, indeed (which
you yourself do not deny) the will of God must be pre-
LETTER LXXIII. 269
ferred to our feelings and our needs. If it were otherwise,
if it were not the work of Christ that was in question,
would I suffer to be so far away from me a companion so
dear and necessary to me, so obedient in labour, so per
severing in studies, so useful in conference, so prompt in
recollection ? Blessed are we if we still remain thus until
the end always and in everything, seeking not our own
interests, but those of Jesus Christ.
LETTER LXXIII.
To THE SAME.
He instructs Rainald, who was too anxious and distrust
ful, respecting the duty of superior which had been con
ferred upon him ; and warns him that he must bestow help
and solace upon his brethren rather than require it from
them.
To his very dear son RAINALD, Abbot of Foigny, BERNARD,
that God may give him the spirit of strength.
I. You complain, my very dear son, of your many tribu
lations, and by your pious complaints you excite me also to
complain, for I am not able to feel that you are sorrowing
without sharing your sorrow, nor can I be otherwise than
troubled and anxious when I hear of your troubles and
anxieties. But since I foresaw these very difficulties which
you say have happened to you, and predicted them to you,
if you remember it seems to me that you ought to be better
prepared to endure them, and to spare me vexation when
you can. For am I not sufficiently tried, and more than
sufficiently, to lose you, not to see you, nor to enjoy your
society, which was so pleasant to me ; so that I have almost
regretted that I should have sent you away from me. And
although charity obliged me to send you, yet not being able
to see you where you have been sent, I mourn you as if lost
to me. When then, besides this, you who ought to be the
staff of my support, belabour me as it were with the rod of
270 LETTER LXXIII.
your faint-heartedness, you heap sorrow upon sorrow, and
torment upon torment; and if it is a mark of your filial affec
tion towards me that you do not hide any of your difficulties
from me, yet it is hard to add fresh trouble to one already
burdened. Why is it needful to occupy with fresh anxieties
one already more than anxious enough, and to torture with
sharper pains the bosom of a father, already wounded by the
absence of his son ? I have shared with you my weight of
cares, as a son, as an intimate friend, as a trusty assistant ;
but how do you help to bear your father s burden, if, instead
of relieving me, you burden me still more ? You, indeed,
are loaded, but I am not lightened of my load.
2. For this burden is that of sick and weak souls. Those
who are in health do not need to be carried, and are not,
therefore, a burden. Whomsoever, then, of your brethren
you shall find sad, mean-spirited, discontented, remember
well that it is of these and for their sakes, you are father
and abbot. In consoling, in exhorting, in reproving, you
do your duty, you bear your burden ; and those whom you
bear in order to cure, you will cure by bearing. But if any
one is in such spiritual health that he rather helps you than
is helped by you, recognize that to him you are not father
and abbot, but equal and friend. Do not complain if you
find more trials than consolations from those among whom
you are. You were sent to sustain and console others, be
cause you are spiritually stronger and better able to bear
than they, and because with the grace of God you are able
to aid and sustain all without needing yourself to be aided
and sustained by any. Finally, if the burden is great, so
also is the reward ; but, on the other hand, the more assist
ance you receive, the more your own reward is diminished.
Choose, therefore ; if you prefer those who are for you a
burden, your merit will be the greater ; but if, on the con
trary, you prefer those who console you, you have no merit
at all. The former are the source whence it arises for you ;
the second as the abyss in which it is swallowed up ; for it is
not doubtful that those who are partakers of the labour, will
be also sharers of the reward. Knowing, then, that you
LETTER LXXIV. 271
were sent to help, not to be helped, bear in mind that you
are the vicar of Him who came not to be ministered unto,
but to minister. I could have wished to write at greater
length, in order to comfort you, but that it was not neces
sary ; for what need is there of rilling a dead leaf with
superfluous words, while the living voice is speaking ? I
think that when you have seen our prior, these words will
be sufficient for you, and your spirit will revive at his
presence, so that you will not require the consolation of
written words, in the delight and help which his discourse
will give you. Do not doubt that 1 have communicated to
him, as far as was possible, my inmost mind, which you
begged in your letters might be sent to you. For you
know well that he and I are of one mind and one will.
LETTER LXXIV.
To THE SAME.
He had desired Rainald to refrain from querulous com
plaints ; now he directs Rainald to keep him informed of
all his affairs.
I had hoped, my dear friend, to find a remedy for
my care about you, if I were not informed by you of your
little vexations. And I remember that I said to you,
amongst other things, in my last letter, " if it is a mark of
your filial affection towards me that you do not hide any of
your difficulties from me, yet it is hard to add trouble to
one already burdened." But the remedy which I thought
would lighten my cares has increased them, and I feel
more burdened than before. For then I, indeed, felt vexa
tion and fear, but only on account of the troubles named
by you, but now I fear that some evil, I know not what, is
happening to you, and like your favourite Ovid
When have I not made the perils which I feared
Greater than they really were ?
I fear all things because I am uncertain of all things, and
1 Heroid. Ep. I. v. 1 1.
272 LETTER LXXV.
feel often real sorrow for imaginary evils. The mind which
affection dominates is hardly master of itself. It fears
what it knows not ; it grieves when there is no need ; it is
troubled more than it wished, and even when it does not
wish ; unable to rule its sensibility, it pities or sympathizes
against its will. And because you see, my son, that neither
my timid industry nor your pious prudence in this respect
are of service to me, do not, I pray you, conceal from me
henceforth anything that concerns you, that you may not
increase my uneasiness by seeking to spare me. The little
books of mine which you have, please return to me when
you can.
LETTER LXXV. (A.D. 1127.)
To ARTAUD, ABBOT OF PRULLY.*
To his very dear friend and colleague, Abbot ARTAUD,
Brother BERNARD wishes health. 2
Whatever affection and heartfelt kindliness absent friends
are able to bestow upon one another I feel is due both from
me to you and from you to me, not only because we share
the same vows and method of life, but also because we have
neither of us forgotten our ancient friendship. And we are
in no way better able to show to each other or to recognize
how acceptable this is to each of us, and how warmly it
exists in the heart of each of us, than not to conceal from
each other if either should hear of anything unbecoming or
unsuitable concerning his friend. Now, I have heard that
you have the intention of founding an abbey in Spain to be
dependent on your holy convent. The plan occasioned great
surprise to me, nor could I conjecture for what end, with what
design or hope of usefulness, you should wish to send some of
1 Of Prally, not of Po/tieres. See notes to Letter 80. Prully was a
monastery of Cistercians, situated in the Diocese of Sens, founded in 11 18, by
Theobald, Count of Champagne, and Adele. his mother, as William de Nangis
reports in his Chronicle, cited by Manrique in his dnnals under that year. But
Theobald was not then Count, as may be gathered from the notes to Letter 31.
2 This inscription is restored from the Corbey MS.
LETTER LXXVI. 273
your monks into exile to a place so distant, and which will
cost you so much both in trouble and in money to reach
and to build upon, when you have quite near you a house
already built and well-fitted up, where you may settle any
of them. For you cannot, I suppose, excuse yourself by
saying that the place I refer to is not yours, when I know
quite well that it may easily be yours if you wish. Do
you suppose that the Lord Abbot of Pontigny, l to whom it
belongs, would refuse it to you if you asked him for it ?
On the contrary, it would be most agreeable to him if you
were willing to accept it ; not because it is not a good
house, but because, as you know, he has no need of it.
We ought both of us to take great care in our conduct, of
the advice which the Apostle gives : Let no man despise thy
youth (i Tim. iv. 12), because we are remarked the sooner
for levity, as we are young men. But I trust that you will
act with more consideration, and choose this place, as it
is nearer to you and already built ; which, while it will
perfectly meet your wants, is only a burden to our friend
the abbot, who at present holds it. Farewell.
LETTER LXXVI.
To THE ABBOT OF THE REGULAR CANONS OF S.
PlERREMONT. 2
He considers what is to be done in the case of a man who,
after a long time spent in a monastery and in the habit of
a religious, has returned to the world and contracted a
second marriage.
1 Thus in the Corbey MS. In others, the Abl:ot P. The place here referred
to is Vauluisant, in which Artaud, at the advice of Bernard, founded a monastery
in 1127 (the date of this Letter), sending twelve monks thither under Norpald
as abbot.
2 In all editions there has been up to the present To the Same ; we have
replaced the correct subscription and title of the Letter from the Corbey MS.
Pierremont is an abbey of the Augustine Order, in the diocese of Toul, not far
from the little river Mortagne, an affluent of the Meurthe. This Letter
explains the doubt which Bernard proposes to himself in the fourth division of
Concerning Precept and Dispensation, ch. xvii.
VOL. I. l8
274 LETTER LXXVI.
To the most Reverend the Father of the Canons of S.
Pierre-mont, Brother BERNARD, health and the affection
which is due to him.
Since it pleased your worship that this brother should
consult my unworthy self, I have let him know my opinion
without at all pretending that he ought to follow it, that I
may not stand in the way of better advice. Not to weary
you by repeating circumstances which you already know,
this is the sum of my advice. It is very dangerous,
perhaps unlawful, that a man who has so long dwelt in a
convent and worn the religious habit, should have returned
to the world ; also that he who with the consent of his
former wife, while she was living, had long observed
absolute continence should contract a second marriage is
indecent and dishonourable. Yet since the marriage was
publicly and solemnly performed as others are, and with
out protest or opposition, it does not seem to me safe that
the man should dismiss his wife against her will, unless he
shall have had recourse to episcopal authority or advice, or
at all events to an ecclesiastical and canonical judgment. 1
But since, in my opinion, the great danger in which the
man now is, is due, in no small degree, to you (in that you
deferred too long his taking the vow, though he wished
and desired to do so, and thus gave opportunity to the
tempter to precipitate him into those unhappy courses), I
counsel and advise you in the name of charity to employ
all your efforts to rescue the unfortunate- man, even at any
cost. Address yourself, for instance, to the wife herself,
and obtain from her a promise to dismiss her husband and
live in continence, or procure that the bishop should
summon them both before him and separate them, which I
believe may justly be done.
1 It is not clear by what vow (if any) the man was bound. Consult the
passage already referred to De Prcecepto et Dispensatione, ch. xvii, and the notes
upon it.
LETTER LXXVII. 275
LETTER LXXVII.
To MAGISTER HUGO, OF S. VICTOR.
This Letter also, on account of its importance, has been
placed among the Treatises.
LETTER LXXVIII. (A.D. 1127.)
To SUGER, ABBOT OF S. DENis. 1
He praises Suger, who had unexpectedly renounced the
pride and luxury of the world to give himself to the
modest habits of the religious life. He blames severely
the clerk who devotes himself rather to the service of
princes than that of God.
i. A piece of good news has reached our district ; it can
not fail to do great good to whomsoever it shall have come.
For who that fear God, hearing what great things He has
done for your soul, do not rejoice and wonder at the great
and sudden change wrought by the Right Hand of the Most
High. Everywhere your courage is praised in the Lord ; the
gentle hear of it and are glad, and even those who do not
1 The Benedictine Abbey of S. Dionysius the Areopagite, the apostle of
France, one of the most celebrated foundations of the country, is about two
leagues from Paris, and was founded by Dagobert I., King of the Franks.
Suger succeeded Abbot Adam, whom Abaelard wrongly accused as a man dis
reputable by his vices (Hut. Calu.m. p. 19. See the notes of Duchesne on the
same passage). He was chosen Abbot in 1123 in his absence, while he was
fulfilling a mission from Louis le Gros, King of France, to Pope Calixtus II.
He died in 1152, at the age of seventy years, and was buried in the Abbey
Church, which he had himself erected, such as we see it at the present time.
It is a magnificent edifice in the form of a cross, 390 feet long, 100 feet broad,
80 feet high from the pavement to the vault, and upheld by 60 columns or
pillars. Its windows are incomparably beautiful, its choir laid with marbles of
various colours and ornamented with sixty high stalls, and it is enriched with
very many tombs of kings and princes. The Annals of this Abbey declare
that " [Suger] by his zeal restored the order of our holy Religion. For before,
by the negligence of the Abbots who preceded him, and of certain monks of
that house, obedience to the Rule had been so broken through that there was
scarcely an appearance of the Religious life left, as also Bernard says here.
See notes to Letter 266.
276 LETTER LXXVIII.
know you, 1 but have only heard of you, what you were and
what you are now, wonder and glorify God in you. But what
adds still more to their admiration and joy is that you have
been able to make your brethren partake of the counsel of
salvation poured upon you from above, and so to fulfil what
we read, Let him that heareth say. Come (Rev. xxii. 17),
and that What I tell you in darkness that speak ye in
light, and what ye hear in the ear that preach ye upon the
house tops (S. Matt. x. 27). So a soldier intrepid in war, or
rather a general full of bravery and devotedness, when he
sees almost all his soldiers turned to flight and falling
everywhere under the hostile blades, although he may see
that he would be able to escape alone, yet he prefers to die
with those, without whom he would think it shame to live.
He holds firm on the field of battle and combats bravely ;
he ranges, sword in hand, along the ranks, through the
bloody blades which seek him ; he terrifies his adversaries
and reanimates his followers with all his powers of voice
and gesture. Wherever the enemy press on more
boldly and there is danger of his friends giving ground,
there he is present ; the enemy who strikes he opposes,
the friend who sinks exhausted he succours ; and he is the
more prepared to die for each one, that he despairs to save
them all. But while he makes heroic efforts to hinder and
to stop the pursuers who press upon his followers, he raises
as best he can those who are fallen and recalls those who
have taken flight. Nor is it rare that his splendid valour
procures a safety as welcome as unhoped for, throws into
confusion the hostile ranks, forces them to fly from those
whom they were pursuing, and overcomes those who bore
themselves almost as victors, so that they who a little before
were struggling for life are now rejoicing in victory.
2. But why do I compare an event so profoundly religious
to things secular, as if examples were wanting to us from
religion itself ? Was not Moses quite certain of what God
had promised him, that if, indeed, the people over whom
he ruled should have perished, he himself should not only
1 Otherwise viderunt, have seen.
LETTER LXXVIII. 277
not perish with them, but should be besides the chief of a
great nation ? Nevertheless, with what affection, with
what zeal, with what bowels of piety did he strive to save
his people from the wrath of God ? And, finally, inter
posing himself on behalf of the offenders, he cries : If Thou
wilt forgive their sin ; and if not, blot me, I pray
Thee, out of Thy book which Thou hast written (Exod.
xxxii. 32). What a devoted advocate ! who, because he
does not seek his own interests, easily obtains everything
which he seeks. What a benign chief, who, binding
together his people with bonds of charity as the head is
united with the members, will either save them with
himself or else encounter the same danger as they !
Jeremiah, also bound 1 inseparably to his people, but by the
bond of compassion, not by sympathy for their revolt,
quitted voluntarily his native soil and his own liberty 2 to
embrace in preference the common lot of exile and slavery.
He was free to remain in his own country had he chosen,
while others must remove, but he preferred to be carried
away captive with his people, to whom he knew that he
could render service even in captivity. Paul, animated be
yond doubt by the same spirit, desired that he might be
anathema even from Christ Himself for his brethren
(Romans ix. 3). He experienced in his own heart how
true is that saying, Love is as strong as death, jealousy is
cruel as the grave (Cant. viii. 6). Do you see of whose
great examples you have shown yourself an imitator ? But
I add one more whom I had almost passed over, that of the
holy king David, who, perceiving and lamenting the
slaughter of his people, wished to devote himself for them,
and desired that the Divine vengeance should be transferred
to himself and to his father s house (2 Sam. xxiv. 17).
3. But who made you aspire to this degree of perfection ?
I confess that though I earnestly desired to hear such things
of you, I never hoped to see it come to pass. Who would
have believed that you would reach, so to speak, by one
sudden bound, the practice of the highest virtues, and
1 Vinctus, otherwise junctus. 2 Otherwise voluntatem.
278 LETTER LXXVIII.
approach the most exalted merit ? Thus we learn not to
measure by the narrow proportions of our faith and hope
the infinite pity of God, which does what It will and works
upon whom It will, lightening the burden which It imposes
upon us, and hastening the work of our salvation. What
then ? the zeal of good people blamed your errors at least,
if not those of your brethren : it was against your excesses
more than theirs that they were moved with indignation ;
and if your brothers in religion groaned in secret, it was
less against your entire community than against you ; it
was only against you that they brought their accusation.
You corrected your faults, and their criticisms had no-
longer an object ; your conversion at once stilled the
tumult of accusation. The one and only thing with which
we were scandalized was the luxury, the pride, the pomp,
which followed you everywhere. 1 At length you laid down
your pride, you put off your splendid dress, and the
universal indignation ceased at once. Thus you had at the
same time satisfied those who complained of you, and even
merited our praises. For what in human doings is deserv
ing of praise, if this is not considered most worthy of
admiration and approval ? It is true that a change so-
sudden and so complete is not the work of man, but of God.
If in heaven the conversion of one sinner arouses great joy r
what gladness will the conversion of an entire community
cause, and of such a community as yours?
4. That spot so noble by its antiquity and the royal
favour, was made to serve the convenience of worldly busi
ness, and to be a meeting-place for the royal troops. They
used to render to Csesar the things which were Caesar s
promptly and fully ; but not with equal fidelity did they
render the things of God to God. I speak what I have
heard, not what I have seen : the very cloister itself of your
monastery was frequently, they say, crowded with soldiers,
occupied with the transaction of business, resounding with
1 It is, perhaps, of this man that Bernard speaks in his dpology c. 10 : "I have
seen, I do not exaggerate, an abbot going forth escorted by 60 horses and
more . . etc."
LETTER LXXVIII. 279
noise and quarrels, and sometimes accessible even to
women. How, in the midst of all that, could place be
found for thoughts of heaven, for the service of God, for
the interests of the spiritual life ? But now there is leisure
for God s service, for practising self-restraint and obedience,
for attention to sacred reading. Consider that silence and
constant quiet from all stir of secular things disposes the
soul to meditation on things above. And the laborious
exercise of the religious life and the rigour of abstinence
are lightened by the sweetness of psalms and hymns.
Penitence for the past renders lighter the austerity of the
new manner of life. He who in the present gathers the fruits
of a good conscience, feels in himself a desire for future
O
good works, which shall not be frustrated, and a well-
founded hope. The fear of the judgment to come gives
way to the pious exercise of brotherly charity, for love
casteth out fear (i S. John iv. 18). The variety of holy
services drives far away weariness and sourness of temper,
and I repeat these things to the praise and glory of God,
who is the Author of all ; yet not without praise to yourself
as being His co-worker in all things. He was able, indeed^
to do them without you, but He has preferred to have you
for the sharer of His works, that He might have you for
the sharer of His glory also. The Saviour once reproached
certain persons because they made the house of prayer a
den of thieves (S. Matt. xxi. 13). He will doubtless then
have in commendation the man who has accomplished the
task of freeing His holy place from the dogs, of rescuing
His pearl from the swine ; by whose ardour and zeal the
workshop of Vulcan is restored to holy studies, or rather
the house of God is restored to Him from being a synagogue
of Satan to be that which it was before.
5. If I recall the remembrance of past evils it is not in
order to cast confusion or reproach on anyone, but from
the comparison with the old state of things to make the
beauty of the new appear more sharply and strikingly ; be
cause there is nothing which makes the present good shine
forth more clearly than a comparison with the evils which
280 LETTER LXXVIII.
preceded it. As we recognize similar things from similar,
so things which are unlike either please or displease more
when compared with their opposites. Place that which
is black beside that which is white, and the juxtaposition
of the two colours makes each appear more marked. So,
if beautiful things are put beside ugly, the former are
rendered more beautiful, the ugliness of the latter is more
apparent. That there may be no occasion of offence or
confusion, I am content to repeat with the Apostle : Such,
indeed, ye were, but ye are -washed, ye are sanctified
(i Cor. vi. 11). Now, the house of God ceases to open to
people of the world, there is no access to sacred precincts
for the curious ; no gossip about trifling things with the
idle; the chatter of boys and girls is no longer heard. The
holy place is open and accessible only to the children of
Christ, of whom it is said : Behold I and the children
whom the Lord hath given me (Isaiah viii. 18). It is re
served for the praises of God and the performance of sacred
vows with due care and reverence. How gladly do the
martyrs, of whom so great a number ennoble that place,
listen to the loud songs of these children, to whom they in
turn reply no less with a voice of charity: Praise, O ye
servants of the Lord, praise the name of the Lord (Ps.
cxiii. i), and again, Sing praises to our God, sing praises,
sing praises to our King, sing praises (Ps. xlvii. 6).
6. When your breasts are beaten with penitent hands,
and your pavements worn with your knees, your altars
heaped with vows and devout prayers, your cheeks fur
rowed with tears ; when groans and sighs resound on all
sides and the sacred roofs echo with spiritual songs instead
of worldly pleadings, there is nothing which the citizens of
heaven more love to look upon, nothing is more agreeable
to the eyes of the Heavenly King. For is not this what is
said : The sacrifice of praise shall honour me (Ps. 1. 23) ?
O, if anyone had his eyes opened, as were those of the
prophet s servant at his prayer ! He would doubtless see
(2 Kings vi. 17) The princes go before, joined with the
minstrels in the midst of the players on timbrels (Ps.
LETTER LXXVIII. 281
Ixvii. 26, VULG.). We should see, I say, with what care
and ardour they assist at the chants, and at the prayers
how they unite themselves with those who meditate, they
watch over those who repose, they preside over those who
order and care tor all. The powers of heaven fully recog
nize their fellow-citizens; they earnestly rejoice, comfort,
instruct, protect, and provide for all those who take the
heritage of salvation, at all times. How happy I esteem
myself while I am still in this world to hear of these things,
although I am absent and do not see them ! But your
felicity, my brethren, to whom it is given to bear part
in them, far surpasses mine, and blessed above all is he
whom the Author of all good has deigned to make the
chief worker of so good a work ; it is you, my dear friend,
whom with justice I congratulate for this, that you have
brought about all which I so greatly admire.
7. You are wearied, perhaps, with my praises, but you
ought not to be so ; they are far different from the flatteries
of those who call evil good and good evil (Isaiah v. 20), and
so please a person to lead him into error. Sweet but
perilous is the praise when the wicked is praised in the
desire of his heart, and the unjust is blessed (Ps. ix. 3,
VULG.). The warmth of my praises comes from charity,
and does not once pass, as I believe, the limits of truth.
He is safely praised, who is praised in the Lord, that is, in
the truth. 1 have not called evil good, but have pointed out
as evil what was evil. But if I boldly raise my voice
against that which is evil, ought I to be silent in presence of
good, and not give my testimony to it ? That would be to
show myself an envious critic, not a corrector; and to
prefer to mangle rather than to mend, if I am silent as to
good and raise my voice only about evil. The just reproves
in mercy, the wicked flatters in impiety; the one that he
may cure, the other in order to hide that which needs to be
cured. Do not be afraid that those among us who in the
fear of the Lord praise you will pour upon your head that
ointment of the sinner with which they were wont to
anoint you. I praise you because you are doing right.
282 LETTER LXXVIII.
But I do not flatter you ; I only accomplish in your case,
by the gift of God, those words of the Psalmist : Those -who
fear Thee shall see me and shall rejoice, because I have
hoped in Thy word (Ps. cxix. 74) ; and again : Many shall
show forth his wisdom (Ecclus. xxxix. 10). It is, then, your
wisdom which more praised than blamed the former folly.
8. I would that you should take pleasure in the praises
of such as fear just as much to flatter vice as to depreciate
virtue. That is the true praise, which, as it is wont to
extol nothing but what is good, so it knows not how to
caress what is evil. All other is pretended praise, but
really blame, which Scripture refers to : The sons of men
are vain ; they are deceitful upon the weights, so that they
deceive even more than vanity (Ps. Ixii. 10). Such are
altogether to be avoided according to the counsel of the
wise man : My son, if sinners entice thee consent thou not
(Prov. i. 10), since their milk and their oil, though they be
sweet, are poisonous and deadly. Their words, he says
(that is, those of flatterers), are softer than oil, and yet are
they very swords (Ps. Iv. 21). The righteous has oil, too, but
of mercy, of sanctification, of spiritual joy. He has wine,
which he pours into the wounds of the haughty soul. But
for the soul of him that mourns, and for him of contrite
heart, he has the oil of mercy, with which he is wont to
soften its sorrow. Where he corrects, he pours in wine ;
when he soothes, oil ; but wine without bitterness, and oil
without guile. Thus, not every praise is flattery, nor every
blame mixed with rancour. Blessed is he who can say :
Let the righteous smite me in mercy, and reprove me :
but let not the oil of the sinner break my head (Ps. cxli. 5),
which when you have put far from you, you have shown
yourself worthy of the oil and wine of the saints.
9. Let the children of Babylon seek for themselves
pleasant mothers, but pitiless, who will feed them with
poisoned milk, and soothe them with caresses which
will make them fit for everlasting flames; but those of
the Church, fed at the breasts of her wisdom, having
tasted the sweetness of a better milk, already begin
LETTER LXXVIII. 283
to grow up in it unto salvation, and being fully satiated
with it they cry: Thy fulness is better than wine, Thy
fragrance than the sweetest ointments (Cant. i. 1,2). This
to their mother. But, then, having tasted and known how
sweet the Lord is, how truly the best of fathers, they say
to Him : How great is Thy goodness, O Lord, which Thou
hast laid up for them that fear Thee (Ps. xxxi. 19). Now
my whole desire is accomplished. Formerly when I saw
with regret with what avidity you sucked in 1 from the lips
of flatterers their mortal poison, the seed of sin, I used, with
grief, to desire better things for you, saying: Who shall
give thee to me, my brother, who sucked the breasts of my
mother (Cant. viii. i)? Far from thee henceforth be
those men with caresses and dishonest praises, who bless
you before your face and expose you at the same time
to the reproach and derision of all men, whose applause in
your presence is the world s by-word, or rather makes you
a by-word to the world. If they murmur even now, say to
them : If I yet pleased you, I should not be the servant of
Christ (Gal. i. 10). Those whom we please in evil things
we cannot please in good things, unless they are them
selves changed, and begin to hate what we were, and so at
length to love what we are.
10. In our time two new and detestable abuses have
arisen in the Church, of which one (permit me to say it)
was no stranger to you when you lived in forgetfulness of
the duties of your profession ; but this, thanks to God, has
been amended to His glory, to your everlasting gain, to our
joy and an example to all. God is able to bring about that
we may soon be consoled for the second of these evils, the
odious novelty of which I do not dare to speak of in public,
and yet am afraid to pass over in silence. My grief urges
my tongue to speak, but fear restrains the words ; fear
only lest I may offend someone if I speak openly of what
troubles me, since truth sometimes makes enemies. But
for enmity of this kind thus incurred I hear the truth con
soling me. It is needful, he says, that offences should come.
1 Sugere. Bernard is playing upon the name of his correspondent Suger.
284 LETTER LXXVIII.
And I do not think that those words which follow, Woe to
that man by whom the offence cometh (S. Matt, xviii. 7)
concern me. For when vices are attacked and a scandal
results thence, it is not he who makes the accusation who is
to answer for the scandal, but he who renders it necessary.
In short, I am neither more cautious in word nor circumspect
in action than he who says, " It is better that a scandal should
arise than the truth be compromised " (S. Greg. Magn. Horn.
7 in Ezech. near the beginning, and S. Aug. de Lib. Arbitr.
et de Praedest. sanctor.). Although I know not what advan
tage it would be were I to hold my tongue about that which
all the world proclaims with a loud voice, nor can I alone
pretend to overlook the pest whose ill odour is in all
nostrils, and not dare to guard my own nose from its ill
effect.
ii. For whose heart is not indignant, and whose tongue
does not murmur either openly or secretly to see a deacon
equally serving God and Mammon, 1 against the precept of
1 This deacon was Stephen de Garlande, seneschal or officer of the table to the
King of France. Many have wrongly confounded him with the Chancellor
Stephen, who became later on Bishop of Paris, as Duchesne rightly remarks in
his notes on Abaelard. Teulf says of him, in his Annals of Maurigny, B. ii. :
" At the death of William, brother german of Anselle, officer of the King s table,
Stephen, the brother of both, became Mayor of the King s palace. It was a
thing unheard of up to that time, that one who occupied the po.-ition of a deacon
should perform the military functions of a Court. He was an enterprising man,
and endowed with rare worldly ability. His ecclesiastical revenues were con
siderable. The King had such a friendship for him that he seemed rather to
obey him than command. He enjoyed greater temporal prosperity than any
other man in our times. He married his niece to Almaric de Montfort, who
received the title of Rochefort on his marriage. Swollen by prosperity, and
forgetful of what he was, he rendered himself odious to the Queen Adela by
many slights towards her, and having become disliked by all, he lost his favour
with the King, was removed from his place and obliged to quit the Court.
Then, as if he were seized with a kind of insanity, he did all in his power to
throw the realm into confusion, and, with the aid of Almaric, who was a man
of remarkable bravery, he took up arms against his country. It was of the same
Stephen, if I do not mistake, for he was surnamed de Garlande, that Ivo, Bishop
of Chartres, speaks in terms not at all flattering in his eighty-seventh Letter,
where, addressing the cardinals, he accuses the people of Beauvais of taking him
for a Bishop. Violating all the canons, he says, they have taken for Bishop
a clerk ignorant, a gambler, addicted to a crowd of vices, completely wanting in
LETTER LXXVIII. 285
the Gospel heaping up ecclesiastical dignities, so that he
seems not to be inferior to Bishops, yet so mixed up in
military offices that he is preferred even to Dukes. What
monster is this, that being a clerk, and wishing at the same
time to appear a soldier, is neither ? It is equally an abuse
that a deacon should serve at the table of the King, and that
the server of the King should minister at the altar during the
holy mysteries. Is it not a wonder, or rather a scandal, to
see the same person clothed in armour march at the head
of armed soldiery, and vested in alb and stole read the
Gospel in the midst of the Church ; at one time give the
signal for battle with the trumpet, and at another convey
the orders of the Bishop to the people ? Unless, perhaps,
that man (which would be scandalous) is ashamed of the
Gospel of which S. Paul, that Vessel of election, was so
proud ? Perhaps he is ashamed to appear a cleric, and
thinks it more honourable to be supposed a soldier,
preferring the Court to the Church, the table of the
King to the Altar of Christ, and the cup of demons to the
chalice of Christ. This seems the more probable, because
he is prouder (they say) to be called by the name of that
one post which he has obtained at the palace than by any of
those titles of ecclesiastical dignities which, in defiance of
the canons, he has heaped upon himself, and instead of
delighting to be called Archdeacon, Dean, or Provost to his
various Churches, he prefers to be styled Dapifer to H.M.
the King. O, unheard of and hateful perversity ! thus to
prefer the title of servant of a man to that of the servant of
God, and to consider the position of an official of an earthly
king one of higher dignity than that of an heavenly ! He
who prefers military warfare to the work of the ministry
all that Holy Orders require, a man, in short, who was formerly driven from the
Church by the Archbishop of Lyons, Legate of the Holy See, because of a public
adultery, and that by the order of the King and Queen. This man, who was
intruded, is Stephen de Garlande. If ever the Apostolic authority shall permit
him to ascend into the Episcopal chair, a fatal silence will be manifestly imposed
on the canons. For how shall we drink at the spring of knowledge if by those
who hold the keys we are not permitted to enter ? " So Ivo. Even this Stephen
Bernard won over to God.
286 LETTER LXXVIII.
places the world before the Church, is convicted of pre
ferring human things to Divine, earthly to heavenly. Is it
then more honourable to be called the King s Dapifer than
Dean or Archdeacon ? It may be to a layman, not to a
cleric ; to a soldier, not to a deacon.
12. It is a strange but blind ambition to delight more in
the lowest things than in the highest, and that the man
whose lines had fallen to him in pleasant places should re
create himself upon a dunghill with eager desire, and count
his precious lands as nothing worth. This man mingles the
two orders and cunningly abuses each. Military pomps
delight him, but not the risks and labours of warfare ; the
revenues of religion, but not its duties. Who does not see
how great is the disgrace, as much to the State as to the
Church ? for just as it is no part of clerical duty to bear arms
at the pay of the King, so it is no part of the royal duties to
administer lay affairs by means of clerics. 1 What king has
ver put at the head of his army an unwarlike clerk instead
of some brave soldier ? What clerk, again, has ever thought
it otherwise than unworthy of him to be bound to obey any
lay person whatsoever ? The very sign which he bears upon
his head 2 is rather the mark of royalty than of servitude ; on
1 Bernard here blames equally clerics who bear arms for the King s pay and
kings who impose military service upon clerks. Each is wrong : the one be
cause he loses sight of the dignity of his status, the others because they confide
without choice or discrimination functions of the Court or of the Army upon
clerks instead of giving them to laymen, as they ought. A similar practice was
renewed under Louis XL. King of France. For when Cardinal Balue, Bishop of
Kvreux, was sent by the King to Paris to review the troops, he performed that
duty unworthy of a prelate, riding a mule and wearing a linen rochet. Cha-
banne, who commanded the cavalry, was indignant, and, seeking the King, he
begged of him a commission to visit the Chapter of Evreux, or to examine the
candidates for orders. " Your demand astonishes me, 1 said the King. " Do
you not know that those functions belong to others, and require a character
which you have not ? " Why," retorted Chabanne, " should I be less fit to
bring clerks to orders than a Bishop to review soldiers ? " which reply con
founded the King and aroused the mirth of the bystanders. Guaguin, Hist. <if
the Clergy, B. x. ; Claud Espence, a man famed in France for learning and
sanctity, B. ii. c. 6 ; Digress, in i. Ep. ad Timot/i. ; Bosquier, in Pluiarch. Christ. ;
Corozetus, Apophthfg. Gall.
2 The tonsure, or clerical crown.
LETTER LXXVIII. 287
the other hand, the throne finds a better support in the
force of arms than in chanting of Psalms. Still, if the
abasement of the one contributes to the greatness of the
other, as is sometimes the case ; if, for example, the humi
liation of the King raised higher the dignity of the priest, or
the abasement of the clerk added something to the royal
honour ; as it happens/ for instance, if a woman of noble
rank marries a man of the people, she indeed loses in grade
by him, but he gains by her; if, then, I say, either the King
had advantage from the clerk, or the clerk from the King, it
would be an evil only in part, and perhaps ought to be
borne with ; but, on the contrary, since there is no gain to
either from the humiliation of the other, but there is loss to
each ; since neither does it become a cleric, as has been
said, to be or to be called the server of the King; nor is it
for the King s advantage to put the reins of government into
any but strong and brave hands. Truly then it is strange
that either power endures such a man as this ; that the
Church does not repulse the deacon-soldier, or the State
the prince-ecclesiastic.
13. I had wished to inculcate these principles by still
stronger and more detailed arguments, and perhaps ought
to do so, did not the necessary limits of a letter oblige me
to defer this for the present ; and because, most of all, I
fear to offend you, I have spared a man for whom, it is
said, you had formerly a great regard. I would not that
you should have a friend at the expense of the truth. But
you have still a friendship for him ; show yourself a true
friend, and exert yourself to make him, too, a friend of the
Truth. Then at length there will be a true friendship be
tween you, if it is bound together by a common love of
truth. And if he will not yield to you in this, hold fast what
you have ; join the tail to the head of the sacrifice. 1 You
1 That is, join the end to the beginning of your work. He exhorts to per
severance, alluding to that precept of the Law which prescribed the offering at
the same time of the head and the tail of the victim (Exod. xxix. ; Lev. iii.).
Radulfus gives the mystical sense of the precept thus: "The tail, which is the
end of the body, is the symbol of perseverance in, and the perfecting of, good
works." The same writer says, in Humit. 25 in Evang. : "In the precept of the
288 LETTER LXXIX.
have received by the grace of God a robe of many colours ;
take pains to make it reach even to the feet, for what will it
profit you to have put your hand to the work if (which, God
forbid) you do not attain finally to persevere ? I end my
letter by warning you to make a good ending of your good
work.
LETTER LXXIX. (Circa A.D. 1130.)
To ABBOT LuKE. 1
Bernard imams him that familiarity with women is to
be shunned, and indicates what is to be done in regard to
o
a brother -who has fallen into sin.
i. My very dear friend, you have singularly edified me,
and have shown an example only too rare of goodness, be
cause not only have you not despised the warnings of one of
less importance than yourself, but have besides this returned
thanks to your adviser, wisely looking not to who or what
he might be, but to what was his advice. I thank God for
it, and that my presumption in advising has met with
gratitude rather than indignation. Encouraged, therefore,
by this striking proof of your humility I feel myself bolder
in repeating my former advice. I pray you, therefore, by
that Blood which was poured out for souls not to regard
as a matter of small importance the peril that is incurred by
souls of so great value by the meeting of persons of different
sexes in familiar intercourse. This cannot be doubted by
those who have long struggled against the temptations of the
Law the tail cf the victim is ordered to be offered in sacrifice ; and that since the
tail is the actual ending of the body, and he offers a complete sacrifice who
carries out his offering of a good work to its due end and perfection."
1 Abbot of Cuissy, of the Premonstratensian Order in the Diocese of Laon, as
is evident from the Biblioth. Premonstrat., and, as Bernard himself sufficiently
indicates when he expresses his surprise that William, Abbot of S. Thierry, as
being very near, or some brother at Premontre , since that was in his immediate
neighbourhood, had not been consulted instead of himself. Of Luke and of the
monastery of Cuissy you have the following from the monk Hermann : Bartho
lomew Bishop of Laon, " built also in a place named Cuissy another monastery
of clerks, and there ordained as abbot Dom Luke, a religious man " (Miraculis
B. Mariae Laudunens, B. iii. c. 16).
LETTER LXXIX. 289
devil, and have learned by their own experience to say with
the Apostle, We are not ignorant of his devices (2 Cor.
ii. 11). And if there is anything that should induce you to
take into serious consideration, not my advice indeed, but
that of the Apostle himself, or rather his precept about this
matter, when he cries aloud Flee from fornication (i Cor.
vi. 1 8), it is the proof of peril given by the shameful fall of
the brother, about whom you have deigned to consult me.
But, indeed, I wonder that it should have seemed to you
expedient to seek me for an adviser, although at such a
distance, when you have beside you a wise man of our
Order and a special lover of your house, namely, William,
Abbot of S. Thierry. And I do not doubt that there are in
the Abbey of Premontre also men of sense, who have
prudence and faithfulness to show you the way out of your
difficulties.
2. But since it has pleased you rather to have recourse to
me, for which, no doubt, you have some good reason, the
best advice I can give is at your disposal. If that brother
has come of himself to confess his fault, however grave and
shameful it may have been, endeavour should be made to
bring about his amendment, and he should not be expelled.
But as the ill odour of such a crime betrays it to others, it is
needful to proceed with care, if itis possible, and in a different
way from heretofore. For it is, perhaps, not expedient
that he should be allowed to remain longer among you, lest,
perhaps, as you have with great reason written, this sick
sheep should infect your young and tender flock with his
disease. On the other hand, a father ought not to close his
heart entirely against his son, though a sinner; I should
consider it, therefore, a course kindly in the father and
salutary for the son that you should endeavour to remove
him into another of the houses of Dom Norbert, but a distant
one, where he may do penance under a stricter discipline,
changing his abode but not his purpose, until the time when
it shall seem good to you to recall him to his own monastery.
As for his passing into our Order, that, perhaps, w^ould not
be of advantage to you. You wrote to me, it is true, that he
VOL. I. 19
2QO LETTER LXXX.
had often said that he had my promise to receive him if he
should come with your licence ; but in my presence he
denied having said any such thing. Perhaps you may not
be disposed to send him to any of those places to abide
which I have mentioned, or he may not be willing to go, or
if both are willing, perhaps a place ready to receive him
may not be found : then one of two things will be advisable
in the necessity of the case ; one, to dismiss him with
letters of licence to travel whither he will for the good of
his soul ; the other to keep him among you, by special
grace of forgiveness, if, that is to say, you are able to take
away every occasion of his repenting or disseminating his
former wickedness. But sufficient on this subject.
3. There is still one point on which with my usual pre
sumption I will make bold to tell you what I think. I speak
of that mill at which the lay brothers x who are in charge
are obliged to permit the resort of women. If you will follow
my advice do one of three things ; either forbid entirely any
entrance of women to the mill ; or let the mill be put into
the charge of some outside person, and not left to the lay
brothers ; or let it be altogether given up.
LETTER LXXX. (Circa A.D. 1130.)
To GUY, ABBOT OF MoLESMES. 2
Bernard consoles him under a great injustice which he
had suffered, and recommends him to temper his vengeance
with mercy.
God who knows the hearts of all men, and is the inspirer
of all good dispositions, knows with what sympathy I con
dole with you in this your adversity, of which I have heard.
But, again, when I consider rather the person who has
caused you this trial than Him who permits it, just as much
1 Conversi. Respecting these see Letter 143 and note. Letter 404 similarly
recommends the avoidance of relations with women.
2 Guy was the second Abbot of Molesmes, after S. Robert. See on this sub
ject Letters 43, 44, and 60.
LETTER LXXX. 2QI
as I feel with you in the present misfortune, so much I hope
soon to rejoice with you in the prosperity which must
speedily come. But only do not let yourself be at all crushed
by discouragement ; think with me how, by the example of
holy Job, 1 you ought to receive with the same cheerfulness
troubles from the hand of the Lord as you do blessings.
Indeed, you ought, after the example of holy David, 2 not so
much to be angry with those people who have caused you
such great sufferings, although they are your own servants,
as to know that you ought to humble yourself under the
mighty hand of God, who doubtless has sent them to bring
about this misfortune to you. But since it appears that
their correction devolves upon you, as they are serfs of the
Church committed to your government, it is proper that
these unfaithful serfs should be punished for their very
wicked presumption, and that the loss of the monastery
.should be recompensed in some degree out of their goods.
But that you may not seem rather to be avenging your own
injury in this than punishing their fault, I beg you and also
advise you not to think so much of what they deserve as
what is fitting for you to do, so that mercy may be exalted
above strict justice, and that in your moderation God may
be glorified. For the rest, I beg you to press upon that
your son, who is dear to me as well for your sake as in a
great degree for his own, with your own lips, as with my
spirit, not to show in his accusations a bitterness and a
violence such as prove that he forgets that precept of our
Lord Whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek turn
to him the other also (S. Matt. v. 39).
1 Job. ii. 10. 2 2 Sam. xvi. 10.
292 LETTER LXXXI.
LETTER LXXXI. (Circa A.D. 1130.)
To GERARD, 1 ABBOT OF POTTIERES.
He defends himself against a false accusation "which had
been made against him.
I do not remember that I ever wrote anything to the
Count of Nevers, to accuse you personally, nor is it
true to say that I have. But if I have written a letter
to that prince it is on behalf of your Church, and I
consider that in this I have acted not against you, but on
your behalf. I had heard that on your advice, and with
your consent, he proposed to come to you on a visit
of inspection, in order to ascertain whether there was any
truth in the many evil reports which were going abroad
concerning your house, and, if so, to whom the blame was
to be laid, so that he might correct with zeal and care any
thing that he might find to be wrong. 2 I do not see that
you have any right to feel yourself injured or to complain
because I took pains to strengthen the prince by my
encouragement in a resolution so just and so pious. On the
contrary, I think I did rightly and in the interests of the
House of God in rousing the zeal of the man who was able
o
to apply a remedy to the evil from which it suffered. You
quote the Holy Scripture to convince me that I have done
wrong because I did not begin by warning you ; but know
that I have absolutely no complaint against you personally,
and in all that I have done for the sake of charity I have had
in view only the restoration of peace in your Church.
Finally, you shall be fully convinced of the truth of what I
say if, as you announce to me, you come to show me the
whole business. You will be sure to find me here on what
ever day of the coming week you please.
1 Pottieres was an Abbey of Benedictines in the Diocese of Langres, founded
by Gerard, Count of Nevers, and not far from his Chateau. He was buried
there with his wife Bertha. Acheiiui Opera Guilerti de Novigentum, p. 653,
notes.
2 Because he had succeeded to the rights of Count Gerard, founder of the
monastery of Pottieres.
LETTER LXXX1I. 293
LETTER LXXXII. (Circa A.D. 1128.)
To THE ABBOT OF S. JOHN AT CHARTRES. 1
Bernard dissuades him from resigning his charge, and
undertaking a Pilgrimage to Jerusalem.
i. As regards the matters about which you were so good as
to consult so humble a person as myself, I had at first deter
mined not to reply. Not because I had any doubt what to
say, but because it seemed to me unnecessary or even pre-
.sumptuous to give counsel to a man of sense and wisdom.
But considering that it usually happens that the greater
number of persons of sense or I might say that all such
trust the judgment of another person rather than their own
in doubtful cases, and that those who have a clear judgment
in the affairs of others, however obscure, frequently hesitate
and are undecided about their own, I depart from my first
resolution, not, I hope, without reason, and without pre
judice to any wiser opinion explain to you simply how the
matter appears to me. You have signified to me, if I do
not mistake, by the pious Abbot Ursus of S. Denis, 2 that
you have it in contemplation to desert your country and
the monastery over which, by the Providence of God, you
are head, to undertake a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, to occupy
yourself henceforth only with God and the salvation of
your own soul. Perhaps, if you aspire unto perfection, it
may be expedient for you to leave your country, when God
says, Go forth from thy country and from thy kindred
1 Doubtless Stephen, who from being Abbot of S. John at Chartres, of the
Augustinian Order, was made Patriarch of Jerusalem at the beginning of 1128
after Germundus (Orderic. Vit. B. 12, towards the end). It was he who sent a
letter, it is said, to Fulk, Count -of Anjou, by means of William de Bury.
(Analect. B. iii. p. 335, Lett. 35 and 36, and the Preface by Papebroch, On the
Patriarchs of Jerusalem, Vol. iii. of May.)
- Ursus, or Ursio. fifth Abbot of the Regular Canons of S. Denis of Rheims,
of the Order of S. Augustine, and afterwards Bishop of Verdun, is mentioned in
Spicilegium, Vol. xii. p. 312. he was promoted to the See of Verdun in 1129,
and had Gilbert for successor at S. Denis, but at length laying down his dignity
he resumed after a time his rule as Abbot. (Marlot, Metrop. Remens. Vol. ii. p.
2Q4 LETTER LXXXII.
(Gen. xii. i). But I do not see at all on what ground you
ought to risk, by your departure, the safety of the souls
entrusted to you. For is it pleasant to enjoy liberty after
having laid down your burden ? But charity does not seek
her own interests. Perhaps the wish for quiet and rest
attracts you ? But it is obtained at the price of the peace
of others. Freely will I do without the enjoyment of any
desire, even a spiritual one, which cannot be obtained
except at the price of a scandal. For where there is
scandal, there, without doubt, is loss of charity : and where
there is loss of charity, surely no spiritual advantage can
be hoped for. Finally, if it is permitted to any one to^
prefer his own quiet to the common good, who is there that
can say with truth : For me to live is Christ, and to die if
gain (Phil. i. 21) ? And where w r ill that principle be which
the Apostle declares : No one lives to himself, and no one
dies to himself (Rom. xiv. 7) ; and, Not seeking mine own
profit, but the profit of many (i Cor. x. 33) ; and, That lie
who lives should not any longer live unto himself, but
unto Him who died for all (2 Cor. v. 15) ?
2. But you will say : Whence comes my great desire, if
it is not from God ? With your permission I will say what
I think. Stolen waters are sweet (Prov. ix. 17); and for
whosoever knows the devices of the devil, it is not doubtful
that the angel of darkness is able to change himself into an
angel of light, and to pour upon the thirsting soul those
waters of which the sweetness is more bitter than worm
wood. In truth, what other can be the suggester of scandals,
the author of dissension, the troubler of unity and peace,
except the devil, the adversary of truth, the envier of
charity, the ancient foe of the human race, and the enemy
of the Cross of Christ ? If death entered into the world
through his envy, even so now he is jealous of whatever
good he sees you doing ; and since he is a liar from the
beginning, he falsely promises now better things which he
does not see. For w r hen did the Truth oppose that most
faithful saying, Art thou bound unto a wife? seek not to be
loosed (i Cor. vii. 27) ? Or when did charity urge to-
LETTER LXXXIII. 295
scandal, who at the scandals of all shows herself burning
with regret? He, then, the most wicked one, opposed to
charity by envy, and to truth by falsehood, mixing false
hood and gall with the true honey, promises doubtful things
as certain, and gives out that true things are false, not that
he may give you what you vainly hope for, but that he may
take away what you are profitably holding now. He prowls
around and seeks how he may take away from the flock
the care of the pastor, to make a prey of it when there is
none to defend it from his attacks ; and, besides this, to
bring down upon the pastor that terrible rebuke, Woe to
him by whom scandal comet h (S. Matt, xviii. 7). But I
have full confidence in the wisdom given to you by God,
that by no cunning devices of the wicked one you will be
seduced or made to renounce certain good, and for the
hope of uncertain advantage to incur certain evil.
LETTER LXXXIII. (Circa A.D. 1129.)
To SIMON, ABBOT OF S. NICHOLAS. L
Bernard consoles him under the persecution of which he
is the object. The most pious endeavours do not always
have the desired success. What line of conduct ought to
be followed towards his inferiors by a prelate who is
desirous of stricter discipline.
i. I have learned with much pain by your letter the per
secution 2 that you are enduring for the sake of righteous-
1 He was Abbot of S. Nicholas, at Rheims, and was made Abbot of S.
Nicholas aux Bois, in the diocese of Laon. Hermann, a monk of Laon, speaks
of him in B. iii. of Miracles of Mary, c. 18. He was brother of William,
Abbot of S. Thierry, who is mentioned in Letters 85 and 86. See also
the Admonition to the Brothers of Mont Dieu.
2 This refers to the persecution which Simon endured from his monks because
he had resigned into the hands of the Bishop of Arras certain altars (that is the
name which used to be given to the cures of parishes), because the possession
of them was stained by simony. We find on this subject a Letter of Samson,
Bishop of Rheims, and of Joscelin, Bishop of Soissons, to Pope Innocent II., who
had named them as judges of that cause. We read also a Letter of Eugenius III.
2g6 LETTER LXXXIII.
ness, and although the consolation given you by Christ in
the promise of His kingdom may suffice amply for you,
none the less is it my duty to render you both all the con
solation that is in my power, and sound and faithful advice
as far as I am able. For who can see without anxiety
Peter stretching his arms in the midst of the billows? or
hear without grief the dove of Christ not singing, but
groaning as if she said, How shall we sing the Lord s song
in a strange land? (Ps. cxxxvii. 4). Who, I say, can
without tears look upon the tears of Christ Himself, who
from the bottom of the abyss lifts now His eyes unto the
hills to see from whence cometh His help ? But we to
whom in your humility you say that you are looking, are
not mountains of help, but are ourselves struggling with
laborious endeavours in this vale of tears against the snares
of a resisting enemy, and the violence of worldly malice,
and with you we cry out, Our help is from the Lord, who
made Heaven and earth (Ps. cxxi. 2).
2. All those, indeed, who wish to live piously in Christ
suffer persecution (2 Tim. iii. 12). The intention to live
piously is never wanting to them, but it is not always
possible to carry it perfectly out, for just as it is the mark
of the wicked constantly to struggle against the pious
designs of the good ; so it is not a reproach to the piety [of
the latter], even although they are frequently unable to per
fect their just and holy desires, because they are few against
many opposers. Thus Aaron yielded against his will to the
impious clamours of the riotous people (Exod. xxxii.). So
Samuel unwillingly anointed Saul, constrained by the too
to Bartholomew, Bishop of Laon, in which he informs him that he wishes to
know the ground of the dispute between Alvisus, Bishop of Arras, and G.,
Abbot of S. Nicholas. In the Letter from Samson to Pope Innocent it is said
that Abbot Simon, " because his monks did not agree with him to resign those
altars, laid down the abbacy for a while, and retired into a distant region ; " but
at length he was recalled by his monks, " who preferred to be without those
altars than without their abbot." From this may be understood the integrity
and disinterestedness of Simon, under whom the monastery flourished (says
Hermann), "both in religion and in material prosperity." The time, then, of
the writing of this Letter may be, without doubt, placed before the accession of
Innocent, i.e., before 1130. As to Gilbert, the successor of Simon, see Letter 399.
LETTER LXXXIV. 297
eager desires of the same people for a king (i Sam. x.). So
David, when he wished to build a Temple, yet because of
the numerous wars which that valorous man had constantly
to sustain against enemies who molested him, he was for
bidden to do what he piously proposed (2 Sam. vii.). Simi
larly, venerable father, I counsel you, without prejudice to
the better advice of wiser persons, so to soften, for the pre
sent only, the rigour of your purpose of reform, and that of
those who share it with you, that you may not be unmindful
of the salvation of the weaker brethren. Those, indeed,
over whom you have consented to preside in that Order of
Cluny ought to be invited to a stricter life, but they ought
not to be obliged to embrace it against their will. I believe
that those who do desire to live more strictly ought to be
persuaded either to bear with the weaker out of charity as
far as they can without sin, or Ipermitted to preserve the
customs which they desire in the monastery itself, if that
may be done without scandal to either party ; or at least
that they should be set free from the Order to associate
themselves where it may seem good with other brothers
who live according to their proposal.
LETTER LXXXIV.
To THE SAME.
He sends back an erring monk, but advises that he
should be treated more gently and kindly after his return.
In the first place, please to notice that your wandering
sheep 1 has been detained by us against our custom, not for
ourselves, but for his own sake, and for you ; not without a
good result, as you see, since we have succeeded by such
treatment, and by salutary counsels, in satisfying his desire
for a stricter life, and in giving you at the same time full
satisfaction, by his return to you with his own assent.
I say this to you not to show you our kindly feeling
towards you, which I could never sufficiently show, but to
1 Bernard himself calls him Nicholas in his Apology to William, par. 4.
298 LETTER LXXXIV.
convince you of the truth of what I have already said to
you, if I remember rightly, that the trial of a Rule somewhat
more strict often suffices to calm unquiet spirits who are not
content with the kind of life that they are living. You
have written to say that you wish to have my advice on the
subject of this very brother who is now reconciled to you ;
but I have thought it now unnecessary to give it, now that
he has returned to you with the intention not of extorting
his own will from you, but of doing yours, as it is right he
should. I beg you on his behalf, and with him, kindly to
soften the difficulty of his first return, which he greatly
fears, and to treat him with greater kindness and condes
cension than is usual with other fugitives, because, although
the circumstances are similar 1 to these, yet the cause of
his conduct was different, and should justify different treat
ment. It is evident that there is a great distinction between
one who quits his monastery from fear and dislike of the
religious state, and one who quits it to go to another from
love of his vocation and desire to practise it better.
To WILLIAM, ABBOT 01^ S. THIERRY.
Here is inserted in some editions a Letter of S. BERNARD,
which we have prefixed as a preface to the Apology of
Bernard, addressed to the same WILLIAM.
1 But the actions were not really similar : because, according to philosophers,
it is the final and determining causes which make the difference between actions.
Thus they are similar only in class (in genere entis) to borrow their language,
not in moral quality (in geuere muris). S. Augustine draws out this difference
excellently in his 9^rd Letter, notes 6 and 7.
LETTER LXXXV. 299
LETTER LXXXV. (Circa A.D. 1125.)
TO THE SAME WlLLIAM. 1
Bernard gently reproaches him for complaining that a
sufficient return was not made to him by Bernard in
offices of friendship.
To Dom Abbot WILLIAM, Brother BERNARD wishes health
and the charity which comes of a pure heart and a good
conscience and faith unfeigned. 2
I. If no one knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit
of man which is in him (i Cor. ii. n), if man sees only the
1 The venerable William, whose friendship was a great delight to Bernard,
was of a noble family of Liege, and was sent to Rheims to study there with
another young man of good family, named Simon, whom a MS. of Marmoutiers,
containing many Letters of Bernard, says was his own brother. William,
despising the delights of the world, entered with his companion into the
monastery of S. Nicasius, of Rheims, where he was celebrated for strict
observance of the rule. After having happily passed through his noviciate, as
each of them was exemplary in virtues, the one became Abbot of S. Nicholas
aux Bois and the other, William, succeeded, in 1 120, as Abbot of the monastery
of S. Thierry, of Rheims, to Geoffrey, who had been named Abbot of S. Medard,
of Soissons. However, the reputation of Bernard for sanctity spread everywhere,
and inspired many persons with the desire to see and admire him. This William,
then a simple monk of S. Nicasius, having heard of the sickness with which the
holy man was seized soon after he became Abbot of Clairvaux, went to see him
with a certain abbot; and from the interviews they then had commenced that
close friendship with which they were afterwards bound. It is that which
explains the grief which he felt on hearing the calumnies of which Bernard was
the object ; and not being able to bear them longer, he occupied himself in
justifying him against all the accusations made against him by the monks of
Cluny, which he did in the elegant Apology written by him, and which will be
found in a later volume. These were not the only vexations which the love of
William for Bernard caused him to endure. Weary of the weight of his
pastoral charge, and desirous of the society of Bernard, when he had been often
refused entrance into Clairvaux, as will be understood after this Letter, he at
length laid down his charge and betook himself to the monastery of Signy, of
the Cistercian Order, in the Diocese of Rheims, about 1135, a ^ ter having been
fourteen years and five months Abbot of S. Thierry. He was professed at
Signy in 1 135, and after having passed many years there in great humility
and exemplary modesty, as in the contemplation of heavenly things (which a
MS. Chronicle of Signy calls " his daily occupation "), he quitted the world
about 1 150, or at all events after 1144.
2 Inscription from the Corbey MS.
300 LETTER LXXXV.
face, while God reads the heart, I wonder, I cannot suffi
ciently wonder how and by what means you have been
able to measure and distinguish between your affection for
me and mine for you, so that you can judge, not only of
the feelings of your own heart, but also of that of another
person. It seems to be the error of the human mind, not only
to think good evil and evil good, or true things false and
conversely, but also to regard sure things as doubtful and
doubtful things as sure. Perhaps it is true what you say,
that you are loved less by me than you love me ; but I am
quite sure of this, that you can have no certainty about it.
How, then, do you affirm as certain what you cannot
possibly have any certainty of ? Wonderful ! Paul did
not trust himself to his own judgment, saying, / judge not
my own self (i Cor. iv. 3). Peter mourned for the pre
sumption with which he had deceived himself, when he
said of himself, Though I should die with Thee I will not
deny Thee (S. Matt. xxvi. 35). The disciples, not trusting
their own consciences, replied one after the other concerning
the denial of the Lord, Is it I, Lord? (S. Matt. xxvi. 22).
David confesses his own ignorance of himself in his prayer,
Remember not my sins of ignorance (Ps. xxv. 7, VuLG.).
But you, with marvellous confidence, declare so positively,
not only about your own heart, but mine, " Though I love
more, I am loved less."
2. These were, in fact, your words. I could wish they
had not been, because I do not know whether they are
true. But if you know, how do you know ? How, I
repeat, have you made proof that I am more loved by you
than you by me ? Is it from what you have added in your
letters, that those who go and come between our houses
never bring you a pledge of regard and affection from me ?
But what pledge, what proof of love do you require from
me? Is this the trouble that disturbs you, that to none of
your many letters to me have I ever replied? 1 But how
could I think that the ripeness of your wisdom could take
any pleasure in the scribblings of my inexperience ? For
1 This was the first Letter of Bernard to William.
LETTER LXXXV. 3OI
I knew who said, My little children, let us not love in
word nor by tongue, but in deed and in truth (i S. John
iii. 1 8). When have you ever had need of my help and it
has failed you ? O, Thou who searchest the hearts and the
reins ! who alone, as the Sun of Righteousness, lightenest
the hearts of Thy servants with the differing rays of Thy
grace; Thou knowest I feel that I love him by Thy gift,
and because he merits it ; but how much I love him Thou
knowest and I do not. Thou, O Lord, who hast given the
love that we have, I for him or he for me, knowest how
much Thou hast given. And by what right does any of us,
to whom Thou hast not revealed it, dare to say, " I love
more, I am loved less," unless he already sees his light in
Thy light ; that is, he recognizes in the light of Thy truth
how bright the fire of charity may be ?
3. In the meantime I am content, O Lord, to see my own
darkness in Thy light, until Thou shalt visit me sitting in
the darkness and the shadow of death; and by Thee the
thoughts of men s hearts shall be revealed and the secret
O
things of darkness made manifest, and the shadows being
dissipated, nothing but light shall remain in Thy light. I
feel, indeed, that, by Thy gift, I love him ; but I do not
yet see in Thy light whether I love him sufficiently. Nor
do I yet know if I have reached that degree of affection,
than which there can be none greater, that one should lay
down his life for his friends. For who will boast that his
heart is pure, or that it is perfect? O, Lord, who hast
lighted in my soul a lamp by whose light I see and shudder
at my own darkness, my God ! enlighten also that very
darkness, that I may see and rejoice in my affections per
fectly regulated within me, that I may know and love what
ought to be loved, and to the right degree and for the right
reason. May I not desire to be loved except in Thee, and
no more than I ought to be loved. Woe to me also if
(which I greatly fear) either I was more loved by him than
I deserved, or he less loved by me than he was worthy to
be. Nevertheless, if those who are the better ought to be
loved the more (for those are the better who love the
302 LETTER LXXXV.
more), what else shall I say than that I do not doubt that I
love him more than myself, whom I know to be better than
myself; but I confess at the same time that I love him less
than I ought to do, because I have less capability of
doing so.
4. But, my father, the greater is your love, the less ought
you to despise the imperfection of mine, because although
you love more, having greater capability, yet you do not
love more than your capacity enables you. It is thus with
me, although I love you less than I ought, yet I love you
as much as my capacity permits, and I can only do what I
have received the capacity of doing. Draw me, then, in
your train that I may reach unto you, and with you, receiving
capacity more fully, may love more abundantly. Why,
then, do you endeavour that I should attain and complain
that I am not able to do so, since you have succeeded as
you see and may dispose of me as you please, but such as
I am, not such as you hoped to find me ? Indeed, you see
in me something, I know not what, which I have not, and
pursue as me what is not me. Therefore you do not
attain it, because I am insufficient for this, and, as you
rightly complain in your letter, it is not I that fail you, but
God in me. Now, if all this verbiage pleases you that I have
ventured upon here, tell me, and I will repeat it, since in
obeying you I shall not fear the reproach of presumption.
The little Preface l which you have ordered to be sent to
you I have not now at hand, nor did I think it necessary as
yet to draw it up. I pray that He who has given you to
will may in His good pleasure accomplish to you and to
your friends whatsoever you will rightly, my pious and
most reverend father, who art fully worthy of all my regard.
1 This is the Letter which is placed at the head of his Apology, addressed to
William, and was written about 1125.
LETTER LXXXVI. 303
LETTER LXXXVI. (Circa A.D. 1130.)
To THE SAME.
Bernard sends back to him to be severely reprimanded a
fugitive monk. He persuades William, who was meditating
a change of state or retiring into private life, to persevere.
To his friend, Brother BERNARD, of Clairvaux, all that a
friend can wish for a friend.
1. You have given me this formula of salutation when
you wrote, to his friend all that a friend can wish." x
Receive what is thine own, and perceive that the assump
tion of it is a proof that we are of one mind, for my heart is
not distant from him with whom I have language in
common. I must now reply briefly to your letter, because
of the time : for when it arrived the festival of the Nativity
of our Lady 2 had dawned ; and being obliged to devote
myself entirely to its solemnities, I had no leisure to think
of anything else. Your messenger also was anxious to be
gone ; scarcely would he stay even until to-morrow
morning that I might write to you these few words after all
the Offices of the festival. I send back to you a fugitive
brother after having subjected him to severe reprimand
suited to his hard heart. It seemed to me that there was
nothing better to do than to send him back to the place
whence he had fled, since I ought not, according to our
rules, to detain any monk in the house without the consent
of his abbot. You ought to reprove him very severely also,
and press him to make humble satisfaction and then comfort
him a little by a letter from yourself addressed to his abbot
on his behalf.
2. Concerning my state of health, I am not able to reply
very precisely to your inquiry except that I continue, as in
1 Suits ille quod sum.
2 It was by the example of the Cistercians, as, I think, all of whose
monasteries were dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, that she began to be called Our
Lady. Hence, Peter Cellensis says of Bernard : " He was a most devoted child
of Our Lady, to whom he dedicated not one church only, but the churches of the
whole Cistercian Order" (B. vi. Ep. 23).
304 LETTER LXXXVII.
the past, to be weak and ailing, neither much better nor
much worse. If I have not sent the person whom I had
thought of sending, it is only because I feel much more the
scandal to many souls than the danger of one body. Not
to pass over any of the matters of which you speak to me,
I come to yourself. You wrote that you wished to know
what I desired you to do (as if I were aware of all that con
cerned you). But this plan, if I should say what I think,
is one that neither I could counsel nor you carry out. I
wish, indeed, for you what, as I have long known, you wish for
yourself. 1 But putting on one side, as is right, both your
will and mine, I think more of what God wills for you, and,
to my mind, it is both safer for me to advise you to that,
and much more advantageous for you to do it. My advice
is, then, that you continue to hold your present charge, to
remain where you are, and study to profit those over whom
you are set, nor flee from the cares of office while you are
able to be of use, because woe to you if you are over the
flock and do not profit them ; but deeper woe still if,
because you fear the cares of office, you abandon the
opportunity of usefulness.
LETTER LXXXVII. (Circa A.D. 1126.)
To OGER, REGULAR CANON. 2
Bernard blames him for his resignation of his pastoral
charge, although made from the love of a calm and pious
life. None the less, he instructs him how, after becoming
a private person, he ought to live in community.
To Brother OGER, the Canon, Brother BERNARD, monk
but sinner, wishes that he may walk worthily of God even
to the end, and embraces him with the fullest affection.
1 See note to Letter 85.
2 Some blame and some ridicule such a title as this, as being a vicious
pleonasm, since these two words differ only in the language from which each
is borrowed, and mean exactly the same thing; as if canons were something
different from regulars, or as if there were some canons who were regulars and
others who were not. But it may be seen in John Bapt. Signy Lib. de Ord.
LETTER LXXXVII. 305
i. If I seem to have been too slow in replying to your
letter, ascribe it to my not having had an opportunity to
send to you. For what you now read was written long
since, but, as I have said, though written without delay, was
delayed for want of a bearer. I have read in your letter
that you have laid dow r n with regret the burden of your
pastoral charge, permission having been obtained with
great difficulty, or rather, extorted by your importunity,
from your Bishop ; and only on the condition that you
should remain under his authority, though fixing yourself
elsewhere. But this not being satisfactory to you, you
appealed to the Archbishop, and, obtaining the relaxation
of this condition, you have returned to your former house
and put yourself under your original abbot. Now you ask
to be advised by me as to how you ought to live hence
forth. An able teacher, indeed, and incomparable master
am I ! And when I shall have begun to teach what I do
not know myself, it will soon be discovered that I know
nothing. You act, in consulting me, as a sheep who seeks
wool from a goat, a mill expecting water from an oven, a
wise man expecting sound counsel from a fool. Besides
this, you heap upon me, from one end of your letter to the
other, complimentary speeches, and attribute to me excel
lences of which I am not conscious ; and as I ascribe them
to your kind feelings, so I forgive them to your ignorance.
For you look upon the countenance, but God upon the
heart ; and if I examine myself with attention under His
awful gaze, I find that I know myself much better than you
know me, since I am much less far from myself than you
are. Therefore I give greater credence to that which I see
in myself than to what you suppose, without seeing, to be
Canon, B. ii., and Navarre, Com. I. de Kegul. at! c. 12, Ctii portio Dens, q. i,
where he shows that every pleonasm is not necessarily a battology. For in
legal documents certain expressions or clauses are often repeated to give them
mere force. It is the same in Hebrew (Ps. Ixxxvii. 5, Ps. Ixviii. 12 VULG. and
Ixx.).
Oger was the first Dean of the Regular Canons of S. Nicholas des Pres, near
Tournay. Picard states this upon the authority of Denis Viller, Canon and
Chancellor of Tournay.
VOL. I. 20
306 LETTER LXXXVII.
in me. Nevertheless, if you may have heard from me any
thing that is profitable to you, give thanks to God, in whose
hand I am and all my words.
2. You explain to me also for what reason you have not
followed my advice, not only not to allow yourself to be
discouraged or overcome by despondency, but to bear
patiently the burden laid upon you, which once undertaken
you were not at liberty to lay down ; and I accept your
explanations. I am well aware, indeed, of the infertility of
my wisdom, and I always hold myself in suspicion for rash
ness and inexperience, so that I ought not to take it ill, nor
do I, when the course which I approve is not taken ; and I
wish, on the contrary, that action should be taken on better
advice than mine. As often as my opinion is chosen and
followed I feel myself weighed down, I confess it, with
responsibility, and await with inquietude, never with con
fidence, the issue of the matter. Yet it is for you to see
if you have acted wisely in not following my advice about
this thing j 1 it must be decided also by those wiser persons
than I, on whose authority you have relied, whether you
i Bernard had counselled him not to resign his abbacy, and this advice he
had not followed. Hence is suggested the serious question : Is it lawful to lay
down the pastoral charge, to withdraw one s self from cares and business, for the
purpose of serving God in peace and quiet, and caring for one s own soul ?
The examples of so many holy men whom we know to have done this add to
the difficulty of the question. Many might be cited among prelates of lower
rank, not a few Bishops, Cardinals, and even some Popes. Bruno III., Count of
Altena, and afterwards Bishop of Cologne, quitted his see, in 1119, and retired to
the Cistercian monastery of Aldenberg. Eskilus, Archbishop of Lunden, in
Denmark, came to live at Clairvaux as a simple monk; Peter Dam ian, who,
from a Benedictine monk, became Cardinal and Bishop of Ostia, after he had
rendered signal service to the Church for a number of years, with wonderful con
stancy, in the high office to which he had been raised, returned into his cell
from love of solitude and quiet, and passed the rest of his days in profound
peace, in the midst of his brethren ; but was blamed by the Pope because he,
a useful and able man, postponed public usefulness to his private safety. One
remarkable fact is recorded of him, that the Pope imposed upon him a penance
of a hundred years for quitting his; Bishopric: he was to recite Ps. 1. [li.] and
give himself the discipline every day for a hundred years ; and this he completed
entirely in the space of one year. This I remember to have read somewhere
(If orks, Vol. i. ep. 10, new ed., Vol. iii. opusc. 20). To Pope Alexander and
Cardinal Hildebrand, who became Pope later under the name of Gregory VII.,
LETTER LXXXVII. 307
have done according to reason. They will tell you, I say,
whether it is lawful for a Christian man to lay down the
burden of obedience before his death, when Christ was
made obedient to the Father even unto death. You will
reply, " I have acted by license, asked and received from
the Bishop." True, you have, indeed, asked for license,
but in a manner you ought not to have done, and, there
fore, have rather extorted than asked it. But an extorted
or compelled license should rather be called violence.
What, therefore, the Bishop did unwillingly, when over
come by your importunity, was not to release you from
your obligations, but violently to break them.
3. You may indeed be congratulated, since you are thus
exonerated ; but I fear lest you have, as much as lieth in
you, taken from the glory 1 of God, whose will you, beyond
doubt, resist in casting yourself down from the post to
which He had advanced you. Perhaps you excuse yourself
by pleading the necessity of religious poverty ; but it is
necessity that brings the crown, in rendering achievements
difficult and almost impossible ; for all things are possible
to him who has faith. But answer to me what is most true,
that you have consulted your own quiet, rather than the ad-
he tries to justify his quitting his see, and opposes numerous examples of con
duct similar to his, to the blame of the Pope and the cardinals.
But it is necessary to hold to what the law prescribes rather than to the
examples of other persons. The Angelical Doctor says: Every pastor is
obliged by his function to labour for the salvation of others, and it is not per
mitted to him to cease to do so, not even to have leisure for peaceful meditation
upon spiritual things. For the Apostle regards the obligation to occupy himself
with the salvation of others who depend upon him as being of such importance
that it must not be postponed even to heavenly meditation : 1 know not what
to choose, he says, far lam in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart and
to ie with Christ, which is far letter ; nevti theless, to abide in the flesh is more
needful for you (Phil. i. 22-23). ^ rnay be added that the Episcopate being a
state more perfect than that of the monk, it follows that just as it is not per
mitted to quit the second to re-enter the world, so it is not allowable to renounce
the first in order to embrace the second, considering that the latter is less perfect
than the former. That would precisely be to look back after having put one s
hand to the plough, and to show one s self unfit for the kingdom of God (S. Luke
ix. 62).
1 Exoneratus ; ex ionoratus.
308 LETTER LXXXVII.
vantage of others. Nor is this strange. I confess that I,
too, am pleased that quiet should delight you, if only it does
not delight you too much. For that, even although a great
thing, which pleases us to such a degree that we wish to
bring it about, even although by wrong means, pleases us
too much ; and because it cannot be brought about by right
means, it ceases to be good. For if you offer rightly, but
do not divide rightly, you have sinned (Gen. iv. 7, Ixx).
Either, therefore, you ought not to have accepted the cure of
the Lord s flock, or, having accepted it, ought not to have
relinquished it, according to those words : Art thou bound
unto a -wife? seek not to be loosed (i Cor. vii. 27).
4. But to what end do I strive in these arguments? To
persuade you to take your charge again ? You cannot, since
it is no longer vacant. Or to drive you to despair by fixing
upon you the blame of a fault which you are no longer
able to repair ? By no means ; I wish only that you should
not neglect the fault you have committed, as if it were
nothing or nothing much, but that you should rather repent
of it with fear and trembling, as it is written : Happy is the
man that feareth alway (Prov. xxviii. 14). But the fear
which I wish to inspire is not that which falls into the nets
of desperation, but which brings to us the hope of blessed
ness. There is, indeed, a fear, useless, gloomy, and cruel,
which does not seek pardon, and, therefore, does not obtain
it. There is also a fear, pious, humble, and fruitful, which
easily obtains mercy for a sinner, however great be his
offence. Such a fear produces, nourishes, and preserves
not only humility, but also sweetness, patience, and for
bearance. Whom does not so blameless an offspring de
light ? But of the other fear the miserable progeny is
obstinacy, excessive sorrow, rancour, horror, contempt, and
desperation. I have wished to recall you to the remem
brance of your fault, but only in order to awaken in you,
not the fear which produces desperation, but that which pro
duces hope ; being afraid lest you should not have any fear
at all, or should have too little.
5. There is something, however, which I fear still more
LETTER LXXXVII. 309
for you, namely, that which is written of certain sinners,
that they rejoice in having done evil and delight in wicked
actions (Prov. ii. 14) ; that you should be deceived, and not
only think that what you have done is not wrong, but also
(which, God forbid) glory in your heart, thinking that you
have done something great, and which is usually done by
few, in renouncing voluntarily the power to command others,
and, despising rule, have preferred to be subjected again to
a ruler. That would be a false humility, causing real pride
in the heart of him that should think such thoughts. For
what can be more proud than to ascribe to spontaneous and,
as it were, free choice that which the force of necessity or
faint-hearted weakness obliges us to do ? But if you have
not been forced by necessity or exhausted by labour, but
have done it willingly, there is nothing more proud than
this ; for you have put your own will before that of God,
you have chosen to taste the sweetness of repose rather
than serve diligently in the work to which He has set you.
If, then, you have not only despised God, but glory in utterly
contemning Him, your glorying is not good. Beware of
boastfulness and self-satisfaction ; more useful for you were
it to be always in care, always humbly trembling, not, as I
have said, with the fear that provokes wrath, but with that
which softens it.
6. If that horrible fear ever knocks at the door of your
soul to terrify it, and to suggest that your service to God
cannot be accepted, and that your penitence is unfruitful
because that in which God has been offended by you cannot
be amended ; do not receive it even for a moment, but reply
with confidence : I have done wrong indeed, but it is done
and cannot be undone. Who know r s if God has foreseen
that good should come to me out of it, and that He who is
good has willed to do me good even from my evil ? Let
Him then punish the evil which I have done, but let the
good which He had provided for remain. The goodness of
God knew how to use our ill-governed wills and actions to
the beauty of the order which He established, and often,
in His goodness, even to our benefit. O indulgent bounty
310 LETTER LXXXVII.
of Divine love towards the sons of Adam ! which does not
cease to load us with benefits, not only where no merit was
found, but often even where entire demerit was seen. But
let us return to you. According to the two kinds of fear
which are distinguished above, I wish you to fear, and yet
not to fear ; to presume, and yet not to presume. To feel
that you may repent, not to feel that you may have con
fidence ; and again, to have confidence that you may not
distrust, and not to be confident that you may not grow in
active.
7. You perceive, brother, how much confidence I have in
you, since I permit myself to blame you so sharply, to judge
and disapprove so freely what you have done, when per
haps you have had better reasons for doing it than have
hitherto been made known to me. For you have not per
haps wished to state those reasons in your letters, by which
your action might well be excused, either through your
humility or through want of space. Leaving, then, un
decided for the present my opinion about any part of the
matter with which I may not be fully acquainted, one thing
that you have done I unreservedly praise, namely, that when
you had laid down the yoke of ruling, yet without a yoke
you were not willing to continue, but took up again a
discipline to which you were attached, without being
ashamed to become a simple disciple when you had borne
the title of master. For you were able, when freed from
your pastoral charge, to remain under your own authority,
since in becoming abbot you were released from the
obedience owed to your former abbot. 1 But you did not
wish to be under no authority but your own, and as you had
declined to rule over others, so you shrunk from rule over
yourself ; and inasmuch as you thought yourself not fit to be
the master of others, so also you did not trust yourself to
be your own master, and in your distrust of yourself, even
for your own guidance, would not be your own disciple.
And rightly. For he who makes himself his own master,
1 Because a monk, when he became an abbot, was freed from the control of
his own abbot.
LETTER LXXXVII. 311
subjects himself to a fool as master. I know not what
others may think of this ; as for me, I have had experience
of what I say, that it is far more easy and safe to govern
many others than my own single self. It was, therefore, a
proof of prudent humility and of humble prudence that, by
no means believing that you were sufficient for your own
salvation, you proposed to live henceforth by the judgment
of another person.
8. I praise you also that you did not seek out another
master nor another place, but returned to the cloister
whence you had gone forth, and to the master under whom
you had made progress in good. It was very right that the
house which had nurtured you, but had sent you forth
through brotherly charity, should receive you when freed
from your charge, rather than that another house should
have in its place the joy of possessing you. As, however,
you have not obtained the sanction of the Bishop for what
you have done, do not be negligent in seeking it, but either
yourself, or through some third person, be prompt to give
him satisfaction as far as is in your power. After this,
study to lead a simple life among your brethren, devoted to
God, submissive to your superior, respectful towards the
older monks, and obliging towards the younger. Be profit
able in word, humble in heart, pleasing to the Angels,
courteous to all. But beware of thinking that you have a
right to be honoured more than others because you were
once placed in a position of dignity, but show yourself as
one among the rest, only more humble than all. For it is
not becoming that you should be honoured on account of a
post, the labour of which you have shunned.
g. Another danger also may arise from this of which I
wish to forewarn you and strengthen you against it. For as
we are very changeable, and it frequently happens that
what we wished for yesterday to-day we refuse, and what
we shrink from to-day to-morrow we desire, so it may
happen sometime by the temptation of the devil that, from
the remembrance of the honour you have resigned, a selfish
desire may knock at the door of your heart, and you may
312 LETTER LXXXVII.
begin weakly to covet what you bravely resigned. The
recollection of things which before were bitter to you will
then be sweet ; the dignity of the position, the care of the
house, and the administration of its property, the respectful
obedience of domestics, the freedom of your own actions,
the power over others; it may be as much a source of
regret to you that you have given up these things, as it was
before of weariness to bear them. If you yield even for an
hour (which may God forbid) to this most injurious tempta
tion you will surfer great loss to your spiritual life.
10. This is the whole of the wisdom of that most accom
plished and eloquent Doctor, by whom you have wished to
be taught from such a distance. This is the eulogy, desired
and waited for, which you have been so eager to hear.
This is the sum of all my wisdom. Do not look for any
other great thing from me ; you have heard all. What
can you require more ? The fountain is drained, and would
you seek water from the dry sand ? I have sent you,
according to the example of that widow in the Gospel, 1 out
of my poverty all that I had. Why art thou ashamed, and
why does thy countenance fall ? You have obliged me.
You have asked for a discourse ; a discourse you have. A
discourse, I say, long enough, indeed, but saying nothing;
full of words, empty of meaning. Such is the discourse
which ought to be received by you with charity, as you
have requested it, but which only seems to reveal my lack
of knowledge. Perhaps it would not be impossible for me to
find excuses for it. Thus I might say that I have dictated
it while labouring under a tertian fever, as also while occu
pied with the cares of my office, while yet it is written,
Write at leisure of wisdom (founded on Ecclus. xxxviii.
25). I should rightly put these reasons forward if I had
adventured upon some great and laborious work. But now,
in such a brief treatise that my engagements afford me no
excuse, I can allege nothing, as I have often said already,
but the insufficiency of my knowledge.
11. But I console myself in my mortification by consider-
1 S. Luke xxi. 2-4.
LETTER LXXXVII. 313
ino- that if I had not done as you requested, if I had not sent
what you hoped for, you would not have been quite sure of
my goodwill to-day. I hope that my good intention will
content you when you see that the power to do more was
wanting to me. And although my Letter be without utility
to you, it will profit me in promoting humility. Even a
fool when he holdcth his peace is counted wise (Prov. xvii.
28), for that he holds his peace is counted to him as the
reserve of humility, not as want of sense. If, then, I had
still kept silence, I should have had the benefit of a similar
judgment, and have been called wise without being so. But
now some will ridicule me as a man of little wisdom, some
laugh at me as ignorant, and others indignantly accuse
me of presumption. Do not think that all this serves
little to the profit of religion, since humility, which
humiliation teaches us to practise, is the foundation
of the entire spiritual fabric. Thus humiliation is the
way to humility, as patience to peace, as reading is to
knowledge. If you long for the virtue of humility,
you must not flee from the way of humiliation. For if
you do not allow yourself to be humiliated, you can
not attain to humility. It is a benefit to me, therefore,
that my ignorance should be made known, and that I should
be rightly put to confusion by those who are instructed,
since I have often been undeservedly praised by those who
could not form a correct opinion. The fear of the Apostle
makes me fear when he says, I forbear, lest any man should
think of me above that which lie seeth me to be, or that he
heareth of me (2 Cor. xii. 6). How finely he has said /
spare [restrain] you. The arrogant, the proud, the desirous
of vain glory, the boaster of his own deeds, who either
takes merit to himself for what he has done, or even claims
what he has not done, he does not restrain himself. He
alone who is truly humble, he restrains his own soul, who
is even afraid to let the excellency that is in him be known,
that he may not be thought to be what he is not.
12. Great in truth is the danger, that anyone should
.speak of us above what we feel our desert to be. Who
LETTER LXXXVII.
shall give me to be as deservedly humiliated among men for
well-founded reasons as I have been undeservedly praised
for ill-founded ones ? I should, then, be able to take to
myself the word of the Prophet : After having been exalted
I have been cast down and filled -with confusion (Ps.
Ixxxviii. I5,VULG.), and this, / 10 ill play and will be yet
more vile (2 Sam. vi. 21, 22). Yes, I will play this foolish
game that I may be ridiculed. It is a good folly, at which
Michal is angry and God is pleased. A good folly which
affords a ridiculous spectacle, indeed, to men, but to
angels an admirable one. Yes, I repeat ; an excellent folly,
by which we are exposed to disgrace from the rich and
disdain from the proud. For, in truth, what do we appear
to people of the world to do except indulge in folly, since
what they seek with eagerness in this world we, on the
contrary, shun, and what they avoid we eagerly seek ?
Upon the eyes of all we produce the effect of jugglers and
tumblers, who stand or walk on their hands, contrary to
human nature, with their heads downward and feet in the
air. But our foolish game has nothing boyish in it, nothing
of the spectacle at the theatre, which represents low actions,
and with effeminate and corrupt gestures and bendings
provoke the passions, but it is cheerful, honourable, grave,
decent, and capable of delighting even the celestial beings
who gaze upon it. This it was he was engaged in, who
said, We are made a spectacle to Angels and to men (i Cor.
iv. 9). May it be ours also in this meantime, that we may
be ridiculed, confounded, humiliated, until He shall come
who puts down the powerful and exalts the humble, to fill us
with joy and glory, and to raise us up for ever and ever.
LETTER LXXXVIII. (Circa A.D. 1127.)
To THE SAME.
Bernard , being hindered by many occupations, has not
yet been able to find time to satisfy his wishes, and is
LETTER LXXXVIII. 315
obliged even to write to him very briefly. He forbids a
certain one of his treatises to be made public unless it
were read over and corrected.
1. I pass over now my want of experience, my humble
profession, or rather my profession of humility, nor do I
shelter myself behind (I do not say my lowness, but, at
least) my mediocrity of position or name, since whatever
I should allege of that kind you would declare to be rather
a pretext for delay than a reasonable excuse. It seems to
me that you interpret my shyness and modesty at your will,
now as indiscretion, now as false humility, and now as real
pride. Of these reasons, therefore, since they would appear
doubtful to you, I say nothing. Only I wish that your
friendship should be fully convinced of one thing, that since
the departure of your messenger (not the one who carries
this letter, but the other) left me I have not had a single
instant of leisure to do what you asked, so busy are my
days and so short my nights. Even now your latest letter
has found me so engrossed that it would take me too long
to write to you the mere occupations, which would be my
excuse with you. I have scarcely been able even to read
your letter through, except during my dinner, for at that
hour it was delivered to me, and scarcely have I been able
to write back to you these few words hastily and, as it
were, furtively. You will see that you must not complain
of the brevity of my letter.
2. To speak the truth, my dear Oger, I am forced to be
angry with all these cares, and that on your account,
although in them, as my conscience bears witness, I desire
to serve only charity, by the requirements of which, as I am
debtor both to the wise and to the unwise, I have been
made unable as yet to satisfy your wishes. What, then?
Does Charity deny to you what you ask in the name of
Charity ? You have requested and begged, you have
knocked at the door, and Charity has rendered your requests
unavailing. Why are you angry with me ? It is Charity
whom you must be angry with, if you will and dare to be
316 LETTER LXXXVIII.
so, since it is she who is the cause that you have not
obtained what you expected to have by her means. Already
she is displeased at my long discourse, and is angry with
you who have imposed it. Not that the ardour with which
you do this is displeasing to her, since it is she which has
inspired you with it, but she wishes that your zeal should
be ruled according to knowledge, and that you should be
careful not to hinder greater things for the sake of lesser.
You see how unwillingly I am torn away from writing to you
at greater length, since the pleasure of conversing with you,
and the wish to satisfy you, make me troublesome to my
mistress, Charity, who has long since been bidding me to
make an end, and I am not yet silent. How wide is the
matter for reply in your letter, if it were permissible to do
as you would wish, and as I, too, should, perhaps, be well
enough pleased to do ! But she who requires otherwise of
me is mistress, or rather is the Master. For God is charity
(i S. John iv. 1 6), and it is very evident that such is her
authority, that I ought to obey her rather than either
myself or you. And since it is incumbent on Charity to obey
God rather than men, I unwillingly, and with grief, put off
for a time the doing what you ask, not refuse altogether
to do it, and I fear in endeavouring humbly to respond to
your desires to appear to wish, under the pretext of a
pretended humility, which is only pure pride, to revolt here
below, I, who am only a miserable worm of the earth, against
the strength of that power which, as you truly declare, rules
even the Angels in heaven.
3. As for the little treatise which you ask for, I had
asked for it back again from the person to whom I had lent
it, even before your messenger came to me, but I have not
yet received it ; but I will take care that at all events when
you come here, if you are ever coming, you shall find it
here, see and read it, but not transcribe it. For that other
treatise which you mention that you have transcribed I had
sent to you to be read, indeed, but not to be copied ; and I
do not know to what good purpose or for whose good you
can have done it. In sending it to you I did not intend
LETTER LXXXVIII. 317
that the Abbot of S. Thierry should have it, 1 and I had not
bidden you to send it ; but I am not displeased that you
have done so. For why should I be afraid that my little book
should pass under his eyes, under whose gaze I would
willingly spread my whole soul if I were able ? But, alas !
why does the mention of so good a man present itself at
such a time of hurried discourse, when it is not permitted
to me to linger, as would be fitting, and converse with you
about that excellent man, when I ought already to have
come to the end of my letter ? I entreat you to make an
opportunity of going to see him, and do not give out my
book to be read or copied until you shall have gone over
the whole of it with him ; read it then together and correct
what in it needs correction, that every word in it may have
the support of two witnesses. After that, I commit to the
judgment of each of you whether it be expedient that it
should be shown publicly, or only to a few persons, or to
some particular person only, or not at all to anyone. And
I make you judge equally if that little preface 2 which you
have fitted to the same out of fragments from other letters
of mine should stand as it is, or whether another fitter one
should be composed.
4. But I had almost forgotten that you complained at the
beginning of your letter that 1 had accused you of false
hood. 1 do not clearly recollect whether I ever said that ;
but if I said anything like it (for I should prefer to think
that I had forgotten rather than that your messenger had
falsely reported) do not doubt that it was spoken in joke,
and not seriously. Can I have even thought that you had
used levity and were capable of trifling with your word ?
i He is here, without doubt, speaking of the Apology to the Abbot William.
Oger was at Clairvaux while Bernard was writing it, as appears from the last
words of that work. But as he left before the final touches were put to it,
Bernard afterwards sent it to him for perusal ; and he, without direction, com
municated it to Abbot William, to whom it was inscribed, and to whom
Bernard intended to send it.
- This little preface is the Letter addressed to the same William, and counted
the 85111 among the Letters of S. Bernard; it is placed at tie head of the
Apology.
318 LETTER LXXXIX.
Far from me be such a suspicion of you, who have from
your youth been happy in bearing the yoke of truth, and
when I find in you a gravity of character beyond your years.
Nor am I so simple as to see a falsehood in a word artlessly
spoken without duplicity of heart ; nor so indifferent as to
have forgotten either the project which you have long since
formed or the obstacle which hinders its realization.
LETTER LXXXIX. (Circa A.D. 1127.)
To THE SAME.
He excuses the brevity of his letter on the ground that
Lent is a time of silence ; and also that on account of his
profession and his ignorance he docs not dare to assume
the function of teaching.
i. You will, perhaps be angry, or, to speak more gently,
will wonder that in place of a longer letter which you had
hoped for from me you receive this brief note. But re
member what says the wise man, that there is a time for all
things under the heaven ; both a time to speak and a time
to keep silence (Eccles. iii. 1-7). But when shall silence
have its time, if our chatter shall occupy even these sacred
days of Lent ? Correspondence is more absorbing than
conversation, inasmuch as it is more laborious ; since when
in each other s presence we may say with little labour what
we will, but when absent we require diligently to dictate in
turn the words which we mutually seek, or which are sought
from us. But while being absent from you I meditate,
dictate or write down what you are in time to read, where,
I pray you, is the silence and quiet of my retreat? 1 But
1 In this Letter the Saint expresses in forcible words how little he felt himself
inclined to write to his friends Letters without necessity or usefulness, and to
take time and leisure for doing so which belonged to more important and
sacred employments. Also, he felt that the labour of literary composition
interfered with the silence to which monks were bound, as also with inward
quiet and peace. Bernard speaks of the function and calling of a monk like
himself. For the monk, as such, is not called to preach and to teach, but to
devote himself in solitu le to God and to his own salvation, through meditation
LETTER LXXXIX. 3IQ
all these things, you say, you can do in silence ; yet, if you
think, you will not answer thus. For what a tumult there
is in the mind of those who dictate, what a crowd of senti
ments, variety of expressions, diversity of senses jostle;
how frequently one rejects that word which presents itself
and seeks another which still escapes ; what close attention
one gives to the consecutiveness of the line of thought and
the elegance of the expression ! How it can be made most
plain to the intellect, how it can be made most useful to
the conscience, what, in short, shall be put before and what
after for a particular reader, and many other things do those
who are careful in their style, attend to most closely. And
will you say that in this I shall have quiet; will you call
this silence, even though the tongue be still?
2. Besides, it is not only the time, but also my profession
and my insufficiency which prevent my undertaking what
3 ou desire, or being able to fulfil it. For it is not the pro
fession of a monk, which I seem to be, or of a sinner, which I
am, to teach, but to mourn for sin. An unlearned person
(as I truly confess myself to be) never acts more unlearnedly
than when he presumes to teach what he knows not.
Therefore, to teach is the business neither of the unlearned
in his rashness, nor of the monk in his boldness, nor of the
penitent in his distress. It is for this reason I have fled
from the world and abide in solitude, and propose to myself
with the prophet, to take heed to my ways that I offend not
with niv tongue (Ps. xxxix. 2) since, according to the same
prophet, A man full of words shall not prosper upon the
earth (Ps. cxl. n), and to another Scripture, Death and
and the practice of virtues. Wherefore he says, in ep. 42 : " Labour and
retirement and voluntary poverty, these are the signs of the monk ; these render
excellent the monastic life." But if there should be anywhere lurking slothful
monks who are so imprudent and rash as to abuse the authority of the Saint to
the excuse of their own indolence, let such hear him accusing them in plain
words : " I may siem, perhaps, to say too much in disparagement of learning,
as if I wished to blame the learned and prohibit the study of literature. By
no means. I do not overlook how greatly her learned sons have profited and
do profit the Church, whether in combating her enemies or in instructing the
simple," etc. (Sermon 36 on the Canticles).
320 LETTER XC.
life are in the poiver of the tongue (Prov. xviii. 21). But
silence, says Isaiah, is the work of righteousness (Is. xxxii.
17), and Jeremiah teaches us to wait in silence for the
salvation of the Lord (Lam. iii. 26). Thus to this pursuit
and desire of righteousness, since righteousness is the
mother, the nurse, and the guardian of all virtues, I would
not seem entirely to deny what you have asked, and I
invite and entreat you and all those who, like you, desire to
make progress in virtue, if not by the teaching of my words,
at least by the example of my silence, to learn from me to
be silent, you who press me in your words to teach what I
do not know.
3. But what am I doing? It w r ill be wonderful if you do
not smile, seeing with what a flood of words I condemn
those who are too full of words, and \vhile I desire to com
mend silence to you, I plead against silence by my loquacity.
Our dear Guerric, 1 concerning whose penitence and whose
manner of life you wished to be assured, as far as I can
judge from his actions, is walking worthy of the grace of
God, and bringing forth works worthy of penitence. The
little book which you ask of me I have not beside me just
now. A certain friend of ours, with the same desire to read
it as you, has kept it a long time, but not to frustrate
altogether the desire of your piety, 2 I send you another
which I have just completed on the Glories of the Virgin
Mother, which, as I have no other copy of it, I beg that
you will return to me as soon as possible, or bring it with
you if you will be coming here soon.
LETTER XC. (Circa A.D. 1127.)
To THE SAME.
A sincere love has no need of lengthy letters, or of
many words. Bernard has been in a state of health
almost despaired of, but is now recovering.
1 This Guerric was made Abbot of Igny in 1138. He is mentioned again
in the following Letter.
2 Or 1-enignity.
LETTER XC. 321
1. I have sent you a short letter in reply to a short one
from you. You have given me an example of brevity, and
I willingly follow it. And truly what need have true and
lasting friendships, as you truly say, of exchanging empty
and fugitive words ? However great be the variety of
quotations and verses, and the multiplicity of the phrases by
which you have endeavoured to display or to prove your
friendship for me, I feel more certain of your affection than
I do that you have succeeded in expressing it, and you will
not be wrong if you think the same in respect to me.
When your letter came into my hands you were present in
my heart, and I am quite convinced that it will be the same
for me when you receive my letter, and that when you read
it I shall not be absent. It is a labour for each of us to
scribble to the other, and for our messengers a fatigue to
carry our letters from the one to the other, but the heart
feels neither labour nor fatigue in loving. Let those things
cease, then, which without labour cannot be carried on, and
let us practise only that which, the more earnestly it is done,
seems to cost the less labour. Let our minds, I say, rest from
dictating, our lips from conversing, our fingers from writing,
our messengers from running to and fro. 1 But let not our
hearts rest from meditating day and night on the law of the
Lord, which is the law of love. The more we cease to be
occupied in doing this the less quiet shall we enjoy, and the
more engrossed we are in it, so much the more calm and
repose we shall feel from it. Let us love and be loved,
striving to benefit ourselves in the other, and the other in
ourselves. For those whom we love, on those do we rely,
as those who love us rely in turn on us. Thus to love in
God is to love charity, and therefore it is to labour for
charity, to strive to be loved for the sake of God.
2. But what am I doing ? I promised brevity, and I am
sliding into prolixity. If you desire news of Brother Guer-
ric, or rather since you do so, he so runs not as uncer-
i This kind of correspondence is a hindrance to devotion and the spirit of
prayer, as he says in the Letter placed at the head of his Apology addressed to-
Abbot William, and also in Letter 89.
VOL. I. 21
322 LETTER XCI.
tainly, so fights not as one that beateth the air. But since
he knows that salvation depends not on him who fights, nor
on him who runs, but on God, who shows mercy, he begs
that he may have the help of your prayers for him, so that
He who has already granted to him both to fight and to run,
may grant also to overcome and to attain. Salute for me
with my heart and by your mouth your abbot, who is most
dear to me, not only on your account, but also because of his
high character. It will be most agreeable to me to see him
at the time and place which you have promised. I do not
wish to leave you ignorant that the hand of God has for a
little while been laid heavily upon me. It seemed that I
had been stricken to the fall, that the axe had been laid to
the root of the barren tree of my body, and I feared that I
might be instantly cut down ; but lo ! by your prayers and
those of my other friends, the good Lord has spared me
this time also, yet in the hope that I shall bear good fruits
in the future.
LETTER XCI. (Circa A.D. 1130.)
To THE ABBOTS ASSEMBLED AT SoissoNS. 1
Bernard urges the abbots zealously to perform the duty
for which they had met. He recommends to them a great
desire of spiritual progress, and begs them not to be de
layed in their work if lukewarm and lax persons should
perhaps murmur.
1 This was one of the first general Chapters held by the Black Monks (as they
are called) in the province of Rheims. It seems that its cause and occasion was
the Apology addressed by Bernard to Abbot William, who was the prime mover
in calling together this assembly, after the example of the Cluniacs and Cister
cians, that they might re-establish the observance of the Rule which was being
let slip. It was held without doubt at S. Medard under the Abbot Geoffrey, to
whom Letter 66 was addressed. He was Bishop of Chalons-sur-Marne when
Peter the Venerable spoke of him thus (B. ii. Ep. 43) : " It is he who first spread
the divine Order of Cluny through the whole of France, who was its author and
propagator; and, far more, it was he who expelled the old dragon from his
resting-places in so many monasteries, and who rouse.l monks from their
torpor." Innocent II. determined that these general Chapters should be held
every year in future.
LETTER XCI. 323
To the Reverend Abbots met in the name of the Lord in
Chapter at Soissons, brother BERNARD, Abbot of Clairvaux,
the servant of their Holiness, health and prayer that they
may see, establish, and observe the things which are right.
1. I greatly regret that my occupations prevent me from
being present at your meeting at least, in body. For
neither distance nor a crowd of cares are able to banish my
spirit, which prays for you, feels with you, and rests among
you. No, I repeat, I cannot be wanting in the assembly of
the saints, nor can distance of place nor absence of body
altogether separate me from the congregation and the
counsels of the righteous, in which, not the traditions of
men are obstinately upheld or superstitiously observed ; but
diligent and humble inquiry is made what is the good and
acceptable and perfect will of God (Rom. xii. 2). All my
desires carry me where you are; I am with you by devotion,
by friendship, by similarity of sentiment, and partaking of
your zeal.
2. That those w T ho now applaud you may not hereafter
ridicule you as having assembled to no purpose (which
God forbid!), strive, I beseech you, to make your conduct
holy and your resolutions good, for too good they cannot
be. Grant that you may be too just or even too wise, yet
it is plain that you cannot be good beyond measure. And
indeed I read : Do not carry justice to excess (Eccles. vii.
17, VULG.). I read : Be not wiser than is befitting (Rom.
xii. 3, VULG.). But is it ever said : Do not carry goodness
to excess ? or, Take care not to be too good ? No one can
be more good than it behoves him to be. Paul was a good
man, and yet he was not at all content with his state ; he
reached forward gladly to the things that were before, for
getting those that were behind (Phil. iii. 13), and striving to
become continually better than himself. It is o nly God
who does not desire to become better than He is, because
that is not possible.
3. Let those depart both from me and from you who say :
We do not desire to be better than our fathers ; declaring
themselves to be the sons of lukewarm and lax persons,
324 LETTER XCI.
whose memory Is in execration, since they have eaten sour
grapes, and their children s teeth are set on edge. Or if
they pretend that their fathers were holy men, whose
memory is blessed, let them imitate their sanctity, and not
defend, as laws instituted by them, the indulgences and
dispensations which they have merely endured. Although
holy Elias says, I am not better than my fathers (i Kings
xix. 4), yet he has not said that he did not wish to be.
Jacob saw upon the ladder Angels ascending and de
scending (Gen. xxviii. 12) ; but was any one of them either
sitting, or standing still ? It was not for angels to stand
still on the uncertain rounds of a frail ladder ; nor can any
thing remain fixed in the same condition during the un
certain period of this mortal life. Here have we no con
tinuing city ; nor do we yet possess, but always seek for,
that which is to come. Of necessity you either ascend or
descend, and if you try to stand still you cannot but fall.
It may be held as certain that the man is not good at all
who does not wish to be better ; and where you begin not
to care to make advance in goodness there also you leave
off being good.
4. Let those depart both from me and from you who call
good evil and evil good. If they call the pursuit of
righteousness evil, what good thing will be good in their
eyes? The Lord once spoke a single word, and the Phari
sees were scandalized (S. Matt. xv. 12). But now these
new Pharisees are scandalized not even at a Avord, but at
silence. You plainly see then that they seek only the occa
sion to attack you. But leave them alone ; they be blind
leaders of the blind. Take thought for the salvation of the
little ones, not of the murmurs of the evil-disposed. Why
do you so much fear to give scandal to those who are not to
be cured unless you become sick with them ? It is not even
desirable to wait to see whether your resolutions are
pleasing to all of you in all respects, otherwise you will
determine upon little or no good. You ought to consult
not the views, but the needs of all ; and faithfully to draw
them towards God, even although they be unwilling, rather
LETTER XCII. 325
than abandon them to the desires of their heart. I com
mend myself to your holy prayers.
LETTER XCII. (A.D. 1132.)
To HENRY, KING OF ENGLAND.
He asks the King s favour to the monks sent by him to
construct a monastery.
To the illustrious HENRY, King of England, BERNARD,
Abbot of Clairvaux, that he may faithfully serve and
humbly obey the King of Heaven in his earthly kingdom.
There is in your land a property 1 belonging to your Lord
and mine, for which He preferred to die rather than it
should be lost. This I have formed a plan for recovering,
and am sending a party of my brave followers to seek,
recover, and hold it with strong hand, if this does not
displease you. And these scouts whom you see before
you I have sent beforehand on this business to investigate
wisely the state 2 of things, and bring me faithful word
again. Be so kind as to assist them as messengers of your
1 The history of the Abbey of Wells, in England, explains to us what is
meant by these words of Bernard. " The Abbot of Clairvaux, Bernard, had
sent detachments of his army of invasion to take possession of the most dis-
tauc regions ; they won brilliant triumphs over the ancient enemy of salvation,
bearing from him his prey and restoring it to its true Sovereign. God had
inspired him with the thought of sending some hopeful slips from his noble vine
of Clairvaux into the English land that he might have fruit among that
nation, as in the rest of the world. The very letter is yet extant which he
wrote for these Religious to the King, in which he said that there was a pro
perty of the Lord in that land of the King, and that he had sent brave men out
of his army to seek it, seize it, and bring it back to its owner. He persuades
the King to render assistance to his messengers, and not to fail to fulfil in this
his duty to his suzerain ; which was done. The Religious from Clairvaux were
received with honour by the King and by the realm, an^ they laid new founda
tions in the province of York, founding the Abbey of Rievaulx. And this was
the first planting of the Cistercian Order in the province of York." (Monast.
Anglican. Vol. i. p. 733.) Further mention of Henry I. is made in the notes to
Letter 138.
2 Esse. This word is a common one with Bernard to signify the state of a
man or a business. See Letters 1 18, 304.
326 LETTER XCIII.
Lord, and in their persons fulfil your feudal 1 duty to Him.
I pray Him to render you, in return, happy and illustrious,
to His honour, and to the salvation of your soul, to the
safety and peace of your country, and to continue to you
happiness and contentment to the end of your days.
LETTER XCIII. (Circa A.D. 1132.)
TO HENRY, 2 BISHOP OF WINCHESTER.
Bernard salutes him very respectfully.
To the very illustrious Lord HENRY, by the Grace of
God Bishop of Winchester, BERNARD, Abbot of Clairvaux,
health in our Lord.
1 Since kings and princes are, as it were, vassals to God.
2 He was nephew, by his mother, of Henry I., King of England, brother of
King Stephen, and son of Stephen, Count of Blois. " His mother, Adela," says
William of Newburgh, " not wishing to appear to have borne children only for
the world, had him tonsured." In 1 1 26, The History of the Abbey nf Glastonbury
counts him among the number of the abbots of that monastery, and says, " he
was a man extremely versed in letters, and of remarkable regularity of
character. By his excellent administration the Abbey of Glastonbury profited
so much that his name will be held in everlasting memory there " (Monast.
Anglican. Vol. ii., p. 18). Henry was elevated later on to the see of Winchester,
and Bernard complains of him in writing to Pope Eugenius. " What shall 1 say
of his Lordship of Winchester ? The works which he does show sufficiently
what he is." Harpsfield reports that he extorted castles from nobles whom he had
invited to a feast, and Roger that he had consecrated the intruder William to the
See of York (Annnl. under year 1 140). The latter calls him legate of the Roman
See. Brito and Henriquez must, therefore, be wrong in counting him among the
Cistercians, and the latter in particular, in speaking of him as a man of eminent
sanctity, taking occasion from the testimony of Wion (Ligno ritce), who calls
him a man gifted with prophecy, because when on his death-bed, in recehing
the visit of his nephew, Henry, he predicted to him that he would be punished
by God on account of the death of S. Thomas of Canterbury, whom he had
himself consecrated ; as if that saying may not have been inspired by fear rather
than prophecy, as Manrique rightly says in his Annals. Peter the Venerable
wrote many letters to him, which are still extant, among others Letters 24 and
25 in Book iv., in which he requests that he may return to Cluny to die and be
buried there. Being invited to do so at the request of Louis, the King of France,
and of the chief nobles of Burgundy, and also at the letters of Pope Hadrian IV.,
he sent on his treasures to Peter the Venerable, and, leaving England without
the permission of the King, arrived at Cluny in 1155. He discharged from his
LETTER XCIV. 327
It is with great joy that I have learned from the report
of many persons that so humble a person as myself has
found favour with your Highness. I am not worthy of it,
but I am not ungrateful for it. I return you, therefore,
thanks for your goodness ; a very unworthy return, but all
that I am able to make. I do not fear but that you will
receive the humble return that I make, since you have been
so kind as to forestall me by your affection and the honour
that you have done to me; butj defer writing more until I
bhall know by some token from your hand, if you think fit
to send one, how you receive these few words. You may
easily confide your reply, in \vriting, or by word of mouth
if it shall so please you, to Abbot Oger, who is charged to
convey to you this note. I beg your Excellency also to be
so good as to honour that Religious with your esteem and
confidence, inasmuch as he is a man commendable for his
honour, knowledge, and piety.
LETTER XCIV. (A.D. 1132.)
To THE ABBOT OF A CERTAIN MONASTERY AT YORK,
FROM WHICH THE PRIOR HAD DEPARTED, TAKING
SEVERAL RELIGIOUS WITH HIM. 1
I. You write to me from beyond the sea to ask of me
advice which I should have preferred that you had sought
own means the debts of the abbey, which were then enormous ; he expended
for the support of the monks who lived at Cluny, more than four hundred in
number, 7, coo marks of silver, which are equal to 40,000 livres. He gave forty
chalices for celebrating mass, and a silk pannus (which may have been an
altar vestment, or more probably a Hanging [E.])of great price; he buried with
his own hands Peter the Venerable, who died January ist, 1157. Having
returned at length to his see, he died, to the great grief of the Religious of Cluny,
on August the gth, 1171.
1 Letter 318 ckarly shows what monastery these had left, namely, the
Benedictine Abbey of S. Mary, at York, and this the Monaslicnn Anglicanum
confirms.
The Abbey of S. Mary, at York, was founded in 1088 by Count Alan, son of
Guy, Count of Brittany, in the Church of S. Olave, near York, to which King
William Rufus afterwards gave the name of S. Mary. Hither were brought
from the monastery of Whitby the Abbot Stephen and Benedictine monks,
328 LETTER XCIV.
from some other. I am held between two difficulties, for if
I do not reply to you, you may take my silence for a sign
of contempt ; but if I do reply I cannot avoid danger, since
whatever I reply I must of necessity either give scandal
to some one or give to some other a security which they
ought not to have, or at all events more than they ought to
have. That your brethren have departed from you was
not with the knowledge nor by the advice or persuasion
of me or of my brethren. But I incline to believe that it
was of God, since their purpose could not be shaken by all
your efforts ; and that the brethren themselves thought this
also who so earnestly sought my advice about themselves ;
their conscience troubling them, as I suppose, because they
under whom monastic discipline was observed; but about the year 1132, under
Geoffrey, the third abbot, it began to be relaxed. It was at that time that the
Cistercian order was everywhere renowned, and was introduced into England in
the year 1128 (its first establishment being at Waverley, in Surrey). Induced
by a pious emulation, twelve monks of S. Mary, who were not able to obtain
from their abbot permission to transfer themselves to this Cistercian Order,
begged the support of Thurstan, Archbishop of York, to put their project into
execution. With his support they left their monastery on October 4th, 1132,
notwithstanding the opposition of their abbot, to the number of twelve priests
an 1 one levite (deacon). Of these one was the Prior Richard, another Richard
the sacristan, and others named in the History before mentioned, taking
nothing from the monastery but their habit. Troubled by their desertion,
Abbot Geoffrey complained to the king, to the bishops and abbots of the neigh
bourhood, as well as to S. Bernard himself, of the injury done by this to the
rights of all religious houses, without distinction. Archbishop Thurstan wrote
a Idler of apology to William, Archbishop of Canterbury, and at the same time
Bernard himself wrote to Thurstan and to the thirteen Religious to congratulate
them, and another to Abbot Geoffrey to justify their action (Letters 94 to 96
and 313). In the meantime these monks were shut up in the Episcopal house
of Thurstan ; and as they refuse;), notwithstanding the censures of their abbot,
to return to their former monastery, Thurstan gave them in the neighbourhood
of Ripon a spot of ground previously uncultivated, covered with thorn bushes,
and situated among rocks and mountains which surrounded it on all sides,
that they might build themselves a house there. Their Prior Richard was
given to them for abbot by Thurstan, who gave him the Benediction on
Christmas Day. Having passed a whole winter in incredible austerity of life,
they gave themselves and their dwelling-place, which they had called Fountains,
to S. Bernard. He sent to them a Religious, named Geoffrey, of A mayo, from
whose hands they received the Cistercian Rule with incredible willingness and
piety (Life of S. Bernard, B. iv. c. 2).
LETTER XCIV. 329
quitted you. Otherwise, if their conscience, like that of
the Apostle, did not reproach them, their peace would not
have been disturbed (Rom. xiv. 22). But what can I do
that I may be hurtful to no one neither by my silence nor
by my reply to the questions asked me ? Thus, perhaps, I
may relieve myself of the difficulty if I shall send those who
question me to a person more learned, and whose authority is
more reverend and sacred than mine. Pope S. Gregory says
in his book on the Pastoral Rule, " Whosoever has pro
posed to himself a greater good does an unlawful thing
in subordinating it to a lesser good." And he proves this
by a citation from the Gospel, saying, No one putting his
ha ud to the plough and looking back is fit for the kingdom
of God (S. Luke ix. 62) ; and he proceeds : " He who
renounces a more perfect state which he has embraced, to
follow another which is less so, is precisely the man who
looks back" (Part iii. c. 28). The same Pope, in his third
Homily on Ezekiel, adds: "There are people who taste
virtue, set themselves to practise it, and while doing so
contemplate undertaking actions still better; but afterwards
drawing back, abandon those better things which they had
proposed to themselves. They do not, it is true, leave off
the good practices they had begun, but they fail to realize
those better ones which they had meditated. To human
judgment these seem to stand fast in the good work, but to
the eyes of Almighty God they have fallen, and failed in
what they contemplated."
2. Here is a mirror. In it let your Religious consider,
not the features of their faces, but the fact of their turning
back. Here let them determine and distinguish their
motives, their thoughts, accusing or excusing them with
that sentence which the spiritual man passes who judges all
things, and is himself judged by no one. I, indeed, cannot
rashly determine whether the state which they have left or
that which they have embraced was the greater or less, the
higher or lower, the severer or the more lax. Let them
judge according to this rule of S. Gregory. But to you,
Reverend Father, I declare, with as much positive assurance
33 LETTER XCV.
as plain truth, that it is not at all desirable that you should
set yourself to quench the Spirit. Hinder not him, it is
said, who is able to do good, but if thou canst, do good
also thyself (Prov. iii. 27, Vt LG.). It more befits you to be
proud of the good works of your sons, since a wise son is
the glory of his father (Prov. x. i). For the rest, let no
one make it a cause of complaint against me that I have not
hidden in my heart the righteousness of God, unless, per
haps, I have spoken less of it than I ought, for the sake of
avoiding scandal.
LETTER XCV. (A.D. 1132.)
To THURSTAN, ARCHBISHOP OF YORK.
Bernard praises his charity and beneficence towards the
Religions.
To the very dear father and Reverend Lord THURSTAN,.
by the Grace of God Archbishop of York, BERNARD, Abbot
of Clairvaux, wishes the fullest health.
The general good report of men, as I have experienced,,
has said nothing in your favour which the splendour of
your good works does not justify. Your actions, in fact,
show that your high reputation, which fame had previously
spread everywhere, \vas neither false nor ill-founded, but
manifest and certain. Especially of late how brilliantly has-
your zeal for righteousness and your sacerdotal energy
shone forth in the defence of the poor Religious who had
no other helper. 1 Once, indeed, the whole assembly of the
saints used to venerate your works of mercy and alms
deeds ; but in doing so it narrated always what is common
to you with very many, since whosoever possesses the
goods of this world is bound to share them with the poor.
But this is your episcopal task, this the noble proof of your
paternal affection, this your truly divine fervour, the zeal
1 What Thurstan did for the protection of these monks, who had taken
refuge with him in the desire to embrace- a mere austere life, may be seen in a
Letter from him which we have taken from the Monasticon A?iglicanum nnd.
placed after those of S. Bernard.
LETTER XCV. 331
which no doubt has inspired and aroused in you who
makes His angels spirits and His ministers a flaming fire.
This, I say, belongs entirely to you. It is the ornament of
your dignity, the badge of your office, the adornment of your
crown. It is one thing to fill the belly of the hungry, and
quite another thing to have a zeal for holy poverty. The
one serves nature, the other grace. Thou shalt -visit thy
kind, He says, and thou shalt not sin (Job. v. 24, VULG.).
Therefore he who nourishes the flesh of another sins not in
so doing, but he who honours the sanctity of another does
good to his own soul ; therefore he says again, Keep your
alms in your own hand until you shall find a righteous man
to whom to give it. For what advantage ? Because He
who receives a righteous man in the name of a righteous
man shall receive a righteous man s reward (S. Matt.
x. 41). Let us, then, discharge the debt that nature
requires of us, that we may avoid sin ; but let us be
co-workers with grace, that we may merit to become
sharers of it. It is this that I so admire in you, as
I acknowledge that it was given to you from above. O,
Father, truly reverend and to be regarded with the sincerest
affection ; the praise for what you have laid out of your
temporal means to the relief of our necessities, will be
blended with the praises of God for ever.
LETTER XCVI. (A.D. 1132.)
To RICHARD/ ABBOT OF FOUNTAINS/* AND HIS COM
PANIONS, WHO HAD PASSED OVER TO THE ClSTERCIAN
ORDER FROM ANOTHER.
He praises them for the renewal of holy discipline.
How marvellous are those things which I have heard and
1 He had been Prior of the monastery of S. Mary, at York, which he quitted,
followed by twelve other Religious, as we have seen above. He died at Rome,
as may be seen in Man. Anglic, p. 744. He had for successor another Richard,
formerly sacristan of the same monastery of S. Mary, who died at Clairvaux
(ll id., p. 745). He is mentioned in the 32Oth Letter of S. Bernard.
2 The monastery of Fountains, in the Diocese of York, passed over to the
332 LETTER XCVI.
learned, and which the two Geoffries have announced to
me, that you have become newly fervent with the fire from
on high, that from weakness you have become strong, that
you have flourished again with new sanctity.
This is the finger of God secretly working, softly
renewing, healthfully changing not, indeed, bad men into
good, but making good men better. Who will grant unto
me to cross over to you and see this great sight ? For
that progress in holiness is not less wonderful or less
delightful than that conversion. It is much more easy, in
fact, to find many men of the world converted to good than
one Religious who is good becoming better than he is.
The rarest bird in the world is the monk who ascends ever
so little from the point which he has once reached in the
religious life. Thus the spectacle which you present,
dearest brethren, is the more rare and salutary, not only to
men who desire greatly to be the helper of your sanctity,
but it rightly rejoices the whole Church of God as well; since
the rarer it is the more glorious it is also. For prudence
made it a duty to you to pass beyond that mediocrity so
dangerously near to defect, and to escape from that luke-
warmness which provokes God to reject you; it w r as even a
duty of conscience for you to do so, since you know that it
is not safe for men who have embraced the holy Rule to
halt before having attained the goal to which it leads. I am
exceedingly grieved that I am obliged by the pressing
obligations of the day and the haste of the messenger to
express the fulness of my affection \vith a pen so brief, and
to comprise the breadth of my kindness for you within the
narrow limits of this billet. But if anything is wanting,
brother Geoffrey : will supply it by word of mouth.
Cistercian Rule in i 132. It is astonishing to read of the fervour of these monks
in Monast. Anglican. Vol. i. p. 733 and onwards. Compare also Letters 313 and
320 for what relates to the death of Abbot Richard, the second of that name and
Order.
1 This Geoffrey, " a holy and religious man," who founded or reformed
numerous monasteries, had been sent by Bernard to Fountains to train them
according to the Rule of the Cistercian Order (Monast. Anglican. Vol. i. p. 741).
Concerning the same Geoffrey see The Life of S. Bernard, B. iv. c. 2.
LETTER XCVII. 333
LETTER XCVII. (A.D. 1132.)
To DUKE CONRAD.*
Bernard urges upon him not to make war upon tlie
Count of Geneva, lest he should draiv itpon himself the
-vengeance of God.
1. All power comes from Him, to whom the prophet says,
Tliine is the power, Thine tlie kingdom, O, Lord; Thou
art over all nations (i Chron. xxix. n). Therefore I have
thought it fit, O illustrious Prince, to warn your Excellency
how great reverence it behoves you to show to that terrible
One, who takes away the life of princes themselves. The
Count of Geneva, as I know from his own mouth, offers to
do you justice with respect to all the causes of complaint
which you declare you have against him. If, after this, you
continue to invade the country of another, to destroy
churches, to set houses on fire, to plunder the poor, to
perpetrate homicides, and to pour out human blood, it is
certain that you will arouse against you the stern anger of
Him who is the Father of orphans and the judge of widows.
And if He is angry with you, neither the number nor the
bravery of your soldiers will profit you at all. The
Almighty Lord of Sabaoth will give the victory to whom
He pleases, whether it be by many or by few. He has
made, when He saw fit, one soldier put to flight a thousand,
and two ten thousand (Deut. xxxii. 30).
2. The cry of the poor which has come to me has
inspired me, a poor man, to use this language to your
Greatness, knowing that it is more honourable and worthy
of you to yield to the entreaties of the humble than to the
threats of your enemies; not that I think your enemies more
1 Samuel Guichenon, in his History of the Dukes of Savoy, written in French,
reports that Conrad, Duke of Zeringen, was at this time contemplating
hostilities against Amadeus I., Count of Geneva. Zeringen, says Munster
(Cosmography, B. iii.), was a certain castle, now destroyed, situated on the
Brisgau, half a mile below Fribourg, from which the Dukes of Zeringen derived
their title. These Dukes were descended from the Counts of Hapsburg by a
ceitain Gebizo about the time of the Emperor Henry III. ; and continued until
i ?. The sixth and last inheritor of the title was named Egon.
334 LETTER XCVIII.
powerful than you, but that I know Almighty God is far
more powerful than either, and that He resists the proud
while he gives grace unto the humble. If I had been able
I would have come unto your presence, noble Prince, to
treat of this matter, but now I have sent to you, in my place,
these of my brethren to obtain from your Highness, by
their prayers united with mine, either a solid peace, if that
be possible, or, at least, a truce while we endeavour to
settle the conditions of a definitive peace, according to the
will of God, and both to your honour and the safety of your
country. Otherwise, if you neither accept the satisfaction
offered you, nor deign to regard our entreaties, or rather
do not give ear to the salutary advice which God gives you
by me, let Him look upon it and judge. For I know, nor
can I reflect upon it without trembling, that such great
armies can hardly meet in battle without horrible carnage
and slaughter of each side.
LETTER XCVIII.
CONCERNING THE MACCABEES, BUT TO WHOM WRITTEN
IS UNKNOWN. 1
He replies to the question why the Church has decreed a
festival to the Maccabees alone of all the righteous under
the ancient law.
i. Fulk, Abbot of Epernay, 2 had already written to ask
i Such is the title in almost all the MSS. But in one atCiteaux the Letter is
inscribed To Bruno of Cologne, as is believed, on the martyrdom of the Maccabees.
In an old edition It is thought to have been written to Hugo of S. Victor. What
seems to have occasioned the conjecture that it was addressed to that prelate
was that the relics of the Maccabees were preserved in Cologne, but it must be
noted that it was not until after the death of Bernard they were brought thither
from Milan by Bishop Reinold, who obtained them from the Emperor, Frederick
I. In many MSS. Letter 77, addressed to Hugo of S. Victor, immediately
precedes this.
- Fulk, Abbot of S. Martin, at Epernay, on the Marne, in the Diocese of
Rheims. It is he to whom is addressed Letter 13 of Hugo Metellus : "To the
Reverend Fulk, Abbot of Epernay, blessed in Our Lord," on the subject of a
certain canon of Epernay whom he reclaimed from Abbot William. Fulk was
LETTER XCV1II. 335
me the same question as your charity has addressed to your
humble servant by Brother Hescelin. I have put off reply
ing to him, being desirous to find, if possible, some statement
in the Fathers about this which was asked, which I might
send to him, rather than to reply by some new opinion of
my ow r n. But as I do not come upon one, in the meantime
I reply to each of you with my thoughts upon the matter,
on condition that if you discover anything better and more
probable in your reading, conversation, or by your medita
tions, you will not omit to share it with me in turn. You
ask, then, why it seemed good to the Fathers to decree
that an annual commemoration, with veneration equal to
our martyrs, should be solemnly made in the Church, by a
certain peculiar privilege, to the Maccabees alone out of
all the ancient saints ? If I should say that having made
proof of the same courage as those, they were worthy now
of the same honours, that would, perhaps, answer the
question why they were included, but not why they alone
were; while it is quite evident that there were others
amongst the ancients who suffered with equal zeal for
righteousness, but yet have not attained to be reverenced
with equal solemnities. If I reply that the latter have not
received the same honours as our martyrs because, although
their valour deserved it, the time when they lived deprived
them of it, why was not the same consideration applied
also to the Maccabees, if, indeed, they, too, on account of
the era when they lived, did not at once enter into the
light of Heaven, but descended into the darkness of Hades?
For the Firstbegotten from the dead. He who opened to
believers the kingdom of Heaven, the Lamb of the tribe of
Juclah, who opens and no more shuts, at Whose entrance
with complete authority it was sung by the heavenly
powers : Lift up your heads, O yc gates, and be ye lift up
ye everlasting doors, and the King of Glory shall come in
(Ps. xxiv. 7), He had not yet appeared. If on that
the first abbot of that monastery ; after that, on the advice of Bernard and of
Guy, the order of Regular Canons was established there in 1128. He was
brought from the Abbey of S. Leo, at Toul.
336 LETTER XCVIII.
account it appears unsuitable to commemorate with joy the
passing away of those which was not a passage of glory
and of joy, why was there an exception made for the
Maccabees ? Or if they obtained favour on account of the
courage which they displayed, why was not the same
favour extended to those others ? Or ought it to be said,
in order to explain this difference, that if the martyrs of the
ancient law, as well as those of the new law, have suffered
for the same cause of religion, yet they did not suffer in
the same condition with those who have attained to the
glory of martyrdom ? It is agreed that all the martyrs,
whether of the Old or the New Testament, equally suffered
for the sake of religion ; but there is a distinction, because
the one class suffered because they held it, the other
because they censured those who held it not ; the one
because they would not desert it, the other because they
declared that those would perish who deserted it, and to
sum up in a word, that in which the two differ, perseverance
in the faith has done in our martyrs that which zeal for the
faith has done in those of the ancient law. The Maccabees
are alone among the ancient martyrs, because they
possessed not only the same cause as the new martyrdom,
but also, as I have said, the form of it ; and rightly, there
fore, they have attained the same glory and fame as the
new martyrs of the Church. For like our martyrs, they
were urged to pour libations to false gods, to renounce the
law of their fathers, and even to transgress the command
ments of God, and like them they resisted and died.
2. Not so did Isaiah or Zecharias, or even that great
prophet, John the Baptist, die ; of whom the first is said to
have been sawn asunder, the second slain between the
temple and the altar (S. Matt, xxiii. 25), and the third
beheaded in prison. If you ask by whom? It was by
the wicked and irreligious. For what cause? For justice
and religion. In what manner ? For confessing and openly
upholding these. They openly upheld the truth before
those who hated it, and thus drew upon themselves the
hatred which caused their death. That which the un-
LETTER XCVIII. 337
righteous and wicked persecuted was not so much religion
in itself as those who brought it before them, nor was
their object to attack the righteousness of others, but to
remain undisturbed in their own unrighteousness. It is
one thing to seize upon the good things of another, and
another to defend one s own goods ; to persecute the truth,
and not to be willing to follow it one s self; to grudge at
believers, and to be angry at their reproofs ; to stop the
mouth of those who confess their faith, and not to be able
to bear patiently the taunts of those who contradict. Thus
Herod sent and seized John. Wherefore ! Because he
preached Christ, or because he was a good and just man ?
On the contrary, he reverenced him the more on this
account, and having heard him, did many things. But it
was because John reproached Herod because of Herodias,
his brother Philip s wife ; on that account he was bound
and beheaded ; no doubt he suffered for the truth, but
because he urged its interests with zeal, not because he
was urged to deny it. This is why the suffering of so
great a martyr is observed with less solemnity than those
even of far less famous men.
3. It is certain that if the Maccabees had suffered in
such a matter, and for such a reason as S. John, there would
not have been any mention of them at all. But a confes
sion of the truth, not unlike that of the Christian martyrs,
made them like those ; and rightly, therefore, a similar
veneration follows. Let it not be objected that they did
not, like our martyrs, suffer for Christ expressly by name ;
because it does not affect his status as a martyr whether
a person suffers under the Law, on behalf of the observances
of the Law r , or under grace for the commandments of the
Gospel. For it is recognized that each of these equally
suffers for the truth, and, therefore, for Christ, who said : I am
the Truth (S. John xiv. 6). Therefore the Maccabees are
more deserving of the honours that have been conferred
upon them for the kind of their martyrdom than for the
valour displayed in it, since we clo not see that the Church
has decreed such honour to the righteous of a former time,
VOL. I. 22
338 LETTER XCVIII.
although they have displayed equal courage on behalf of
righteousness, for the time in which they lived. I suppose
that it was thought unfit to appoint a day of festival for
a death, however laudable, before the Death of Christ,
especially since before that saving Passion those who died,
instead of entering into joy and glory endured the dark
ness of the prison-house. The Church then, as I said
above, considered that an exception should be made in
favour of the Maccabees, since the nature of their martyr
dom conferred upon them what the time of their suffering
denied to others.
4. Nor them only, but those also who preceded in their
death, the Death of Him who was the Life manifest in the
flesh, either dying during His life, as Simeon and John the
Baptist, or for Him, as the Innocents, we venerate with
solemn rites, although they, too, descended into Hades ; but
for another reason. Thus, in the case of the Innocents, it
would be unjust to deprive innocence dying on behalf of
righteousness of fame even in the present. John also,
knowing that from his day the kingdom of heaven suffered
violence, therefore proclaimed, Do penitence, for the king
dom of heaven is at hand (S. Matt. iii. 2, VULG.) ; and, seeing
that the Life would immediately follow him, endured death
with joy. He, before his death, was careful to inquire from
the Lord Himself respecting this, and had the happiness to
be informed of it. For when he sent his disciples to ask of
Jesus Art Thou He that should come, or are we to look for
another? he received for answer, after the enumeration of
very many miracles, And blessed is he who shall not be
offended in me (S. Matt. xi. 3-6). In which answer the
Lord intimated that He \vas about to die, and by such a
death as might be to the Jews a stumbling block and to the
Greeks foolishness. At this word the friend of the Bride
groom went onward rejoicing and with a willing mind,
because he could not doubt that the Bridegroom also would
speedily come. Therefore he who so joyfully could die
merited also to be held in joyful remembrance. And that
old man, too, as full of virtues as of days, who when death
LETTER XCVI1I.
339
was already so near said, holding in his arms Him who was
the Life, Now lettcst Thou TJiy servant depart in peace,
for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation (S. Luke ii. 29, 30),
as if he had said, / go down without fear into Hades,
because I feel that my redemption is so nigh ; he, too,
\vho died with such fearless joy and such joyful security
rightly deserves to be commemorated with joy in the
Church.
5. But on what principle shall a death be accounted
joyful which is not accompanied by the joys of heaven?
or from whence should a dying person derive joy who was
sure that he was going down into the darkness of the prison-
house, and yet did not bear with him any certitude, how soon
the consolation of a deliverer thence should come to him ?
Thus it was that when one of the saints heard Set thy house
in order, for thoushalt die, and not live, he turned himself
to the wall and wept bitterly, and so asked and obtained
some deferring of hateful death. Thus also he lamented
miserably, saying, I shall go to the gates of the grave ; I
am deprived of the half of my days (Is. xxxviii. 10) ; and a
little after added, / shall not see the Lord in the land of
the living : I shall behold man no more with the inhabi
tants of the world (Is. xxxviii. n). Hence also another
says : Who shall grant me that Thou wouldest protect me
in the grave, that Thou wouldest keep me secret until Thy
wrath be passed ; that Thou wouldest appoint me a set
time and remember me? (Job xiv. 13). Israel also said to
his sons, Ye will bring down my grey hairs with sorrow to
the grave (Gen. xlii. 38). What appearance is there in
these deaths, of solemn joy, of rejoicing and festival ?
6. But our martyrs desire to be unclothed and be with
Christ, knowing well that where the Body is there without
delay will the eagles be gathered together. There will the
righteous rejoice in the sight of God, and be in joy and
felicity. There, there, O most blessed Jesus, shall every
saint who is delivered from this wicked world be filled
speedily with the joy of Thy countenance. There in the
habitations of the just resounds for ever one song of joy
340 LETTER XCVIII.
and salvation: Our soul is delivered as a bird out of the
net of the fowler : the net is broken and we are delivered
(Ps. cxxiv. 7). How could those sing this song of gladness
who in Hades sat in darkness and the shadow of death,
while as yet there was no Redeemer for them, no Saviour ;
while the Sun rising from on high, Christ the first fruits of
them that slept, had not yet visited us ? Rightly, then,
does the Church, who has learnt to rejoice with them that
rejoice and to weep with them that weep, distinguish,
because of the time at which they lived, between those
whom she judges equal in valour: and does not think the
descent into Hades proper to be followed with equal honour
as is the passage into life.
7. Therefore, though the motive makes martyrdom, yet
the time and the nature of it determine the difference
between martyrdoms. Thus the time in which they lived
separates the Maccabees from the martyrs of the new law
and joins them with those of the old ; but the nature of
their martyrdom associates them with the new and divides
them from the old. From these causes come the differences
of observance with which they are kept in memory in the
Church. But that which is common to the whole company
of the Saints before God is what the holy prophet declares :
Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of Pits saints
(Ps. cxvi. 15). And why he calls it precious he explains
to us : When He has given sleep to His beloved, behold,
children, the heritage of the Lord ; His reward, the fruit
of the womb (Ps. cxxvii. 3). Nor must we think that
martyrs alone are beloved, since w T e remember that it was
said of Lazarus, Our friend Lazarus sleeps (S. John xi.
u), and elsewhere, Blessed are the dead who die in the
Lord (Apoc. xiv. 13). Not those alone who die for the
Lord, like the martyrs, but without doubt those also who
die in the Lord as confessors are blessed. There are two
things, as it seems to me, which make death precious, the
life which precedes it and the cause for which it is en
dured ; but more the cause than the life. But when both
the cause and the life concur that is the most precious of alL
LETTER XCIX. 341
LETTER XCIX.
TO A CERTAIN MONK. 1
Bernard writes that he had been anxious because of the
rumoured departure of this monk from his convent, and
that he had been freed from such fear by his letter.
The messenger by whom you say that you have been dis
turbed was sent by Brother William in your interest, and
not in his own. He, indeed, by the grace of God, acts
bravely, as he is wont, and does not merit so far that that
declaration should be applied to him : A double-minded
man is unstable in all his ways (S. James i. 8). He walks
simply and faithfully in the ways of the Lord, and does not
fear that woe that is spoken : Woe be to the sinner that
goeth two ways (Ecclus. ii. 12). For we had heard that you,
being mixed up in a dispute, had left your convent, to the
grave scandal of your abbot and your brethren, and were
living alone in, I know not what unsuitable place. Being
greatly distressed by this rumour, I ask myself, with anxiety,
in what way I could be of service to you, and nothing oc
curred to me to do better than to beg you to come to see
me so as to make me aware of what had passed about your
self, so that I might, without delay, counsel you by word of
mouth. But since my letter and your reply have put to
flight the fears and suspicions which were in the mind of
each of us, let us say nothing more of the matter. It has
been shown, at all events, by this false report, how true is
the mutual affection between us ; and I think that this
affection has been not unfruitfully renewed by our mutual
anxiety; I should hope that we might taste this fruit far
more fully if leave and opportunity were given you to pay
me a visit. Otherwise it were better that I should still be
content without seeing you rather than enjoy your presence
at a time when it is unsuitable or inconvenient to you.
1 In many MSS. the four Letters which follow have no other title than this,
Concerning the same sul-ject, viz., the Maccabees, which is false. William, of
whom mention is made at the beginning of the Letter, was that monk of Clair-
vaux who is referred to in Letter 103.
342 LETTER C.
LETTER C.
TO A CERTAIN BlSHOP.
Bernard praises his liberality and kindness towards poor
Religious.
o
If I were less acquainted with your zeal for undertaking
a work of such importance I should urge and entreat you to
it. But now, since your piety has anticipated my inten
tion, it only remains to me to give thanks to Him, from
whom all good things proceed, for having put into your
heart to wish this good, and to pray Him to add to it, that
you may bring to perfection that which you have piously
desired. Yet I cannot hide from you my joy, nor dissimu
late the pleasure which your good intentions inspire in me.
My soul will be delighted to the full if I could know that
you are untiring in edifying and honourable pursuits. For
I rejoice, not because I seek a gift, but because I require
fruit. I willingly accept a benefit which profits the giver,
otherwise I should not walk in that charity which seeketh
not her own (i Cor. xiii. 5). And, indeed, your gifts are
profitable to me, but more to you, according to that declara
tion : It is more blessed to give than to receive (Acts xx.
35). This liberality is befitting a Bishop ; it is the glory of
your priesthood, it adorns your crown, and ennobles your
dignity. If the charge he holds forbids a person to be poor
let his conduct show that he is a lover of the poor. For it
is not poverty, but the love of poverty, which is counted a
virtue ; and it is said, Blessed are the poor, not in worldly
wealth, but in spirit (S. Matt. v. 3).
LETTER CI.
To CERTAIN MONKS.
Bernard asks that a monk who had departed without per
mission should be received with kindness.
I send back to you Brother Lambert, whom I received, in
some respects wavering in mind, but to whom your prayers
LETTER CI. 343
have restored calm, so that he is not, as I think, labouring
any more under his former scrupulosity. I have carefully
questioned him about the cause of his coming, and also
about the reason and manner of his departure. He does
not seem to me to have had any bad intention in acting as
he has done ; but his reason for leaving in such a manner,
that is, without permission, was plainly insufficient. I took
occasion from this to blame him as he deserved, to chide
him sharply, to remove his hesitations and doubts, and to
persuade him to return to you. Now that he is returning,
I entreat you, my very dear brethren, to receive him kindly,
and to be indulgent to the presumption of a brother in
which there is more simplicity than malice, since he turned
neither to the right nor left, but came straight to me, whom
he knew for certain to be the devoted servant of your Holi
ness, a very sincere lover and faithful imitator of your piety.
Receive him, therefore, you who are spiritual men, in a
spirit of gentleness ; let your charity be confirmed towards
him, and let his good intention excuse his bad action.
Therefore, receive him back with joy, whom, when lost, you
grieved for; and let gladness at the return of your brother
speedily chase away the grief caused by his transgression
and departure. I trust that, by the mercy of God, all the
bitterness which his irregular departure occasioned will be
soon softened by this improvement in his life.
LETTER CII.
TO A CERTAIN ABBOT.
Bernard advises that all possible means should be tried
to correct a refractory monk, but that, if incorrigible, he
should be expelled , lest lie should infect others by his com
pany.
i. Respecting the brother who is disorderly and dis
orders others, nor respects the authority of his superior, I
give you brief but faithful advice. It is the occupation of
the devil to go about in the House of God and seek whom he
344 LETTER CII.
may devour ; on the other hand, it is the task committed to
your watchfulness, never as far as you are able, to give
place to the devil. The more efforts he makes then to
separate from the flock a poor little sheep that he may draw
it away the more easily whither there will be none to de
liver it from him, the more strenuously, as far as in you
lies, ought you to resist, that the enemy may not be able to
snatch it from your arms, and say I have prevailed against
him. Have recourse, then, in order to save that brother, to
every office of charity ; spare neither kindnesses, good ad
vice, private reprimands, nor public remonstrances, even
the sharp correction of words and, if necessary, blows, but,
above all, what is usually more efficacious, the pious inter
cessions of yourself and your brethren to God for him.
2. But if, when you have done all these things you have
no success, you are bound to follow the counsel of the
Apostle when he says, Put away from among yourselves
that wicked person (i Cor. v. 13). Let the wicked man be
taken away, that he may not make others wicked, for an
evil tree can bear only evil fruit. I say that he should be
taken away, but not in the manner that he himself wishes ;
nor should he suppose that he can be permitted to live with
your license away from the community, against his profes
sion avoiding obedience, under his own authority, and that
according to the law 1 and with conscience wrongly at ease ;
but he should be cut off, as a diseased sheep is parted from
the flock, as a gangrened limb from the body ; and in going
forth he should be made to know for certain that he will be
held by you as a heathen man and a publican. And do not
fear that you will act against charity if you provide for the
peace of many by the expulsion of one of one whose
1 The discipline for refractory monks differed in various times and places. The
Rule of S. Benedict (capp. 28 and 29) ordered that they should be expelled. The
Council of Cloveshoo, A.D. 747, in Can. 24, decided that this should not he done
except by the decree of a synod. Another method was pursued towards nuns.
One was expelled from the convent of S. Peter, at Metz, her veil having been
taken from her. By Can. 9 of a Synod at Metz such a person was to be brought
back and " placed in a dungeon within the monastery. In the twelfth century
regular canons were expelled. (See Stephen of Tournay, Let. 38).
LETTER cm. 345
malice may easi y destroy the peace of many brethren who
dwell together. Let that declaration of Solomon console
you, A T o one can correct that person whom God leaves alone
(Eccles. vii. 13), and that of the Saviour, Every plantation
which My Father hath not planted shall be rooted up (S.
Matt. xv. 13), and that of S. John the Evangelist concerning
schismatics, They went out from its, because they -were not
of us (i S. John ii. 19), and that from the Apostle, If the
unbelieving depart, let him depart (i Cor. vii. 15). Other
wise the rod of the wicked ought not to be left over the lot
of the righteous, lest the righteous put forth their hand unto
wickedness. For it is better that one member should perish
than the whole community. 1
LETTER CIII.
To THE BROTHER OF WILLIAM, A MONK OK CLAiRVAUx. 2
Bernard, after having made a striking commendation of
religious poverty, reproaches in him an affection too great
for worldly tilings, to the detriment of t he poor and of his
own soul, so that he preferred to yield them up only to
death, rather than for t/ie love of Christ.
i . Although you are unknown to me by face, and although
distant from me in body, yet you are my friend, and this
friendship between us makes you to be present and familiar
to me. It is not flesh and blood, but the Spirit of God
which has prepared for you, though without your knowledge,
this friendship, which has united your brother William and
me with a lasting bond of spiritual affection, which includes
you, too, through him, if you think it worth acceptance.
And if you are wise you will not despise the friendship of
1 On the question whether a monastery has the right of expelling an in
corrigible monk, consult Haeften in Distjuisitionit-us JMonasticis, Menard, and
Edmund Martene in his Commentaries upon the Rule.
2 Such of the title of the Letter in two Vatican MSS. and in certain others.
In those of Citeaux it is inscribed Letter of exhortation to a friend. But at the
end of Letter 106 I conjecture the reference to be to Ivo, who signs it with
"William.
346 LETTER cm.
those whom the Truth declares blessed, and calls kings of
heaven ; which blessedness we would not envy to you, nor
if communicated to you would it be diminished to us, nor
would our boundaries be at all narrowed if you should reign
over them too. For what cause can there be for envy where
the multitude of those who share a blessing takes nothing
from the greatness of the share which each enjoys ? I wish
you to be the friend of the poor, but especially their imi
tator. The one is the grade of beginner, the other of the
perfect, for the friendship of the poor makes us the friend
of kings, but the love of poverty makes us kings ourselves .
The kingdom of heaven is the kingdom of the poor, and
one of the marks of royal power is to do good to friends
according to our will. Make to yourselves friends, it is
said, of the mammon of unrighteousness, that "when yc
fail they may receive you into everlasting habitations (S.
Luke xvi. 9). You see what a high dignity sacred poverty
is, so that not only does it not seek protection for itself, but
extends it to those who need. What a power is this, to
approach by one s self to the Throne of God without the
intervention of any, whether angels or men, with simple
confidence in the Divine favour, thus reaching the summit
of existence, the height of all glory !
2. But would that you, without pretence, would consider
how you hinder your own attainment of these advantages.
Alas ! that a vapour which appears but for a moment should
block up the entrance to eternal glory, hide from you the
clearness of the unbounded and everlasting light, prevent
you from recognizing the true nature of things, and deprive
you of the highest degree of glory ! How long will you
prefer to such glory the grass of the field, which to day is,
and to-morrow is cast into the oven ? I mean carnal and
worldly glory. For all flesh is grass, and its glory as the
flower of the field (Is. xl. 6). If you are wise, if you have
a heart to feel and eyes to see, cease to pursue those
things which it is misery to attain. Happy is he who
does not toil at all after those things, which when
possessed are a burden, when loved a defilement, and
LETTER CIV. 347
when lost a torment. Will it not be better to have
the honour to renounce them than the vexation to lose
them ? Or will it be more prudent to yield them up for the
love of Christ than to have them taken away by death ?
death, which is a robber lying in wait for you, into whose
hands you cannot help falling, with all that belongs to you.
When he shall do so you cannot foresee, because he will
come as a thief in the night. You brought nothing into
this world, and it is certain you can carry nothing out (i
Tim. vi. 7). You shall sleep your sleep, and find nothing
in your hands. But these things you know well, and it
would be superfluous laboriously to teach them to you.
Rather I will pray God that you may have the grace to
fulfil in practice what it has been given you already to
know.
LETTER CIV.
To MAGISTER x WALTER DE CHAUMONT.
He exhorts him to flee from the world, advising him to
prefer the cause and the interests of his soul to those of
parents.
MY DEAR WALTER,
I often grieve my heart about you whenever the
most pleasant remembrance of you comes back to me,
seeing how you consume in vain occupations the flower of
your youth, the sharpness of your intellect, the store of your
learning and skill, and also, what is more excellent in a
Christian than all of these gifts, the pure and innocent
character which distinguishes you ; since you use so great
endowments to serve not Christ their giver, but things
transitory. What if (which God forbid !) a sudden death
should seize and shatter at a stroke all those gifts of yours,
1 S. Bernard usually designates thus Doctors and Professors of Belles
I.ettres. See Letters 77, (06, and others. It is thus that in the Spicilegium iii. pp.
137, 140, Thomas d Etampes is called sometimes Magister, sometimes Doctor,
In a MS. at the Vatican we read, "To Magister Gaucher."
34-8 LETTER CIV.
as it were with the rush of a burning and raging wind, just
like the winds whirl about and dry grass or as the leaves of
herbs quickly fall. What, then, will you carry with you of all
your labour which you have wrought upon the earth ? What
return will you render unto the Lord for all the benefits
that He hath done unto you ? What gain will you bring
unto your creditor for those many talents committed to you ?
If He shall find your hand empty, who, though a liberal
bestower of His gifts, exacts a strict account of their use !
" For he that shall come will come and will not tarry, and
will require that which is His own with usury." For He
claims all as His own, which seems to ennoble you in your
land, with favours full at once of dignity and of danger
O J O
Noble parentage, sound health, elegance of person, quick
apprehension, useful knowledge, uprightness of life, are
glorious things, indeed, but they are His from whom they
are. If you use them for yourself "there is One who
seekethand judgeth."
2. But be it so ; suppose that you may for a while call these
things yours, and boast in the praise they bring you, and be
called of men Rabbi and make for yourself a great name,
though only upon the earth ; what shall be left to you after
death of all these things ? Scarcely a remembrance alone
and that, too, only upon earth. For it is written, They have
slept their sleep, and all the men whose hands were mighty
have found nothing. (Ps. Ixxvi. 5). If this be the end of all
your labours allow me to say so what have you more
than a beast of burden ? Indeed, it will be said even of
your palfrey when he is dead that he was good. Look to
it, then, how you must answer it before that terrible judg
ment throne if you have received your soul in vain, and
such a soul ! if you are found to have done nothing more with
* O
your immortal and reasonable soul than some beast with
his. For the soul of a brute lives no longer than the body
which it animates, and at one and the same moment it both
ceases to give life and to live. Of what will you deem
yourself worthy, who, being made in the image of your
Creator, do not guard the dignity of so great a majesty?
LETTER CIV. 349
And being a man, 1 but not understanding your honour, art
compared unto the foolish beasts and made like unto them,
seeing that forsooth, you labour at nothing of a spiritual or
eternal nature, but, like the spirit of a beast which as soon
as it is loosed from the body is dissolved with the body,
have been content to think of nothing but material and
temporal goods, turning a deaf ear to the Gospel precept :
Labour not for the meat that per isheth, but for that meat
which endureth unto everlasting life (S. John vi. 27). But
you know well that it is written that only he ascends into
the hill of the Lord who hath not Lift up his mind unto
vanity (Ps. xxiv. ^).~ And not even he except he hath clean
hands and a pure heart. I leave you to decide if you
dare to claim this of your deeds and thoughts at the present.
But if you are not able to do so, judge what is the reward
of iniquity, if mere unfruitfulness is enough for damnation.
And, indeed, the thorn or thistle will not be safe when the
axe shall be seen laid to the root of the fruit tree, nor
will He spare the thorn which stings, who threatens even
the barren plant. Woe, then ; aye ! double woe to him of
whom it shall be said, / looked that he should bring forth
grapes, and he hath brought forth wild grapes (Is. v. 4).
3. But I know how freely and fully you can nourish
these thoughts, though I be silent, but yet I know that, con
strained by love of your mother, you are not as yet able to
abandon what you have long known how to despise. What
answer shall I make to you in this matter ? That you
should leave your mother? That seems inhuman. That
you should remain with her? But what a misery for her to
be a cause of ruin to her son ! That you should fight at
once for the world and for Christ? But no man can serve
two masters. Your mother s wish being contrary to your
salvation is equally so to her own. Choose, therefore, of
these two alternatives which you will ; either, that is, to
secure the wish of one or the salvation of both. But if you
1 Some add "in honour" from Ps. xlviii., but it is wanting in the 3VISS.,
and certainly is redundant here.
2 Hath not received it in vain, VULG.
350 LETTER CV.
love her much, have the courage to leave her for her sake,
lest if you leave Christ to remain with her she also
perish on your account. Else you have ill-served her who
bare you if she perish on your account. For how doth she
escape destruction who hath ruined him whom she bare?
And I have spoken this in order in some way to stoop to
assist your somewhat worldly affection. Moreover, it is a
faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation, although it is
impious to despise a mother, yet to despise her for Christ s
sake is most pious. For He who said, Honour thy father and
mother (S. Matt. xv. 4), Himself also said, He who loveth
father or motlicr more than Me is not worthy of Me (S.
Matt. x. 37).
LETTER CV.
To ROMANUS, SUB-DEACON OF THE ROMAN CURIA.
He urges upon him the proposal of the religious life,
recalling the thought of death.
BERNARD, Abbot of Clairvaux, to his dear ROMANUS, as
to his friend.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,
How good you are to me in renewing by a letter the
sweet recollection of yourself and in excusing my tiresome
delay. It is not possible that any forgetfulness of your
affection could ever invade the hearts of those who love
you ; but, I confess, I thought you had almost forgotten
yourself until I saw your letter. So now no more delays ;
fulfil quickly the promise that you have written ; and if
your pen truly expresses your purpose, let your acts
correspond to it. Why do you delay to give birth to that
spirit of salvation which you have so long conceived ?
Nothing is more certain to mortals than death, nothing
more uncertain than the hour of death, since it is to come
upon us as a thief in the night. Woe unto them who are
still with child [of that good intention] in that day ! If it
shall anticipate and prevent this birth of salvation, alas ! it
LETTER CV. 351
will pierce through the house and destroy the holy seed :
For when they shall say Peace and safety, then sudden
destruction shall come upon them as travail upon a woman
with child, and they shall not escape (i Thess. v. 3). I
wish you not to flee from death, but only to fear it. For
the just, though he avoids it not, because he knows that it
is inevitable, yet does not fear it. Moreover, he awaits it as
a rest (Wisdom iv. 7) and receives it in perfect security ;
for as it is the exit from the present life, so it is the entrance
into a better. Death is good if by it thou die to sin, that
thou mayest live unto righteousness. It is necessary that
this death should go before, in order that the other which
follows after may be safe. In this life, so long as it lasts,
prepare for yourself that life which lasts for ever. While
you live in the flesh, die unto the world, that after the
death of the flesh you may begin to live unto God. For
what if death rend asunder the coarse envelope 1 of your
body so long as from that moment it clothes you with a
garment of joy ? O, how blessed are the dead which die in
the Lord (Apoc. xiv. 13), for they hear from the Spirit,
that " they may rest from their labours." And not only so,
but also from new life comes pleasure, and from eternity
safety. Happy, therefore, is the death of the just because
of its rest ; better because of its new life, best because of
its safety (Ps. xxxiv. 21). On the other hand, worst of all
is the death of sinners. And hear why worse. It is bad,
indeed, through loss of the world ; it is worse through
separation from the flesh ; worst of all through double pain
of worm and fire. Up, then, hasten ; go forth out of the
world, and renounce it entirely ; let your soul die the death
of the righteous, that your last end also may be like His :
Oh, how dear in the sight of the Lord is the death of His
saints (Ps. cxvi. 13). Flee, I pray you, lest you stand in
the way of sinners. How canst thou live where thou durst
not die? 2
1 Saccns.
2 A familiar figure of speech with Bernard. See Letter 107, 13; 124, 2,
etc.
352 LETTER CVI.
LETTER CVI.
To MAGISTER HENRY MuRDACH. 1
He urges him to embrace the religious life, briefly
describing its delights.
O <b
To his beloved HENRY MURDACH, BERNARD, called
Abbot of Clairvaux, wishes eternal life.
i. What wonder if you are tossed to and fro by the
waves of prosperity and adversity, since you have not yet
set your feet upon the rock ? But if you are quite resolved
to keep the righteous judgments of the Lord, can anything
sever you from the love of Christ ? O, if you only knew,
and if I were able to convey to you ! but Eye hath not
seen, without Thee, O God, the things that Thou hast
prepared for them that love Thee (Is. Ixiv. 4). But you,
my brother, who, as I hear, read the prophets, and no doubt
suppose that you understand the sense of their writings, is
it not clear to you if you understand that the meaning of
the prophetic declaration refers to Christ? And if you
desire to lay hold on Him, I assure you that you can attain
to Him sooner by following Him than by reading, merely
reading of Him. Why do you seek in the Word written,
the Word who is already here before your eyes, the Word
made flesh ? He has long quitted his hiding-place among
the prophets to come forth before the eyes of Fishermen ;
already He has left the deep, shady hills of the ancient Law,
as a bridegroom leaves his chamber, and has leapt forth to
the plain of the Gospel. Now let him who hath ears to
hear, hear Him crying in the Temple, If any man thirst,
let him come unto Me and drink (S. John vii. 37), and
i This Henry was by birth an Englishman, and master of a school in England.
Among His disciples were William and Ivo, as appears from the end of the
epistle. He yielded at length to the exhortations of Bernard, and became a
monk of Clairvaux ; afterwards he was Abbot of Vauclaire, and then third
Abbot of Fountains, in England (see Letters 320 and 331); and, lastly, after
the deposition of the Treasurer, William, by Eugenius III., Archbishop of York,
on which subject several letters occur below. See also William of Newburgh,
B. i. c. 17 ; Roger Hoveden, under the year 1140; Robert du Mont, Appendix to
Sigebert.
LETTER CVI. 353
Come unto Me all ye that labour and are heavy laden and
I will refresh you (S. Matt. xi. 28). Do you, then, fear to
fail where Truth promises to sustain you? Surely if the
storm-rain from the clouds of heaven so delights you, how
much sweeter will be the draught that you may draw from
the pure fountains of the Saviour?
2. If you could once for a moment taste of that bread
with which Jerusalem is satisfied, how gladly you would
leave your dry crusts for Jewish scholars to gnaw ! How
happy should I be to have you for my companion in the
school of piety under the Master, Jesus ! Would that it
were mine first to purge the vessel of your heart that it
might be filled with the unction that makes wise about all
things ! How willingly would I break with you those
loaves, still warm and steaming, and, as it were, freshly
drawn from the oven, which Christ of His heavenly bounty
often breaks unto His poor! Would that, if God deigned
of His sweetness to shed at any time on my poor soul some
drop of the free rain which He keeps for His inheritance,
ah ! would that then I could pour it out upon you, and
again receive from you in turn that which you had felt !
Believe one who has tried : you shall find a fuller satis
faction in the woods than in books. The trees and the
rocks will teach you that which you cannot hear from
masters. Do you think that you cannot draw honey from
the rock and oil from the hardest flint? Do not our
^ mountains drop sweetness ? the hills flow with milk and
honey ? and the valleys stand thick with corn ? When so
much occurs to me to say to you I scarce restrain myself.
But inasmuch as you ask not for a lecture, but for prayers,
may God open your heart in His law and in His statutes.
Farewell.
3. Let William and Ivo, too, have share in this my
prayer. What more shall I say to you ? You know that
I long to see you, and why ; but how much I long neither
1 can tell nor you can know. So I pray God that He may
grant you even to follow whither you ought to have
preceded me, since in this matter I hold you to be master
VOL. I. 23
354 LETTER CVII.
of so great humility as not to disdain, though a master, to
follow your disciples.
LETTER CVII.
To THOMAS, PRIOR OF BEVERLEY. 1
This Thomas had taken the vows of the Cistercian
Order at Clairvaux. As he showed hesitation, Bernard
urges his tardy spirit to fulfil them. But the following
letter will prove that it was a warning to deaf ears, where
it relates t/ie unhappy end of Tliomas. In this letter
Bernard sketches with a master s hand the whole scheme
of salvation.
BERNARD to his beloved son THOMAS, as being his son.
i. What is the good of words? An ardent spirit and a
strong desire cannot express themselves simply by the
tongue. We want your sympathy and your bodily presence
to speak to us ; for if you come you will know us better,
and we shall better appreciate each other. We have long
been held in a mutual bond as debtors one to another; for
I owe you faithful care and you owe me submissive
obedience. Let our actions and not our pens, if you
please, prove each of us. I wish you would apply to
yourself henceforth and carry out towards me those words
of the Only Begotten : The works which the Father hat/i
given Me to finish, the same works bear witness of Me
(S. John v. 36). For, indeed, only thus does the spirit of
the Only Son bear witness with our spirit that we also are
the sons of God, when, quickening us from dead works, He
causes us to bring forth the works of life. A good or bad
tree is distinguished, not by its leaves or flowers, but by its
fruit. So By their fruits, He saith, ye shall know them
(S. Matt. vii. 16). Works, then, and not words, make the
difference between sons of God and sons of unbelief. By
works, accordingly, do you display your sincere desire and
make proof of mine.
1 See Letter 411.
LETTER CVII. 355
2. I long for your presence ; my heart has long wished
for you, and expected the fulfilment of your promises.
Why am I so pressing ? Certainly not from any personal
or earthly feeling. I desire either to be profited by you or
to be of service to you. Noble birth, bodily strength and
beauty, the glow of youth, estates, palaces, and sumptuous
furniture, external badges of dignity, and, I may also add,
the world s wisdom all these are of the world, and the
world loves its own. But for how long will they endure ?
For ever ? Assuredly not ; for the world itself will not last
for ever ; but these will not last even for long. In fact, the
world will not be able long to keep these gifts for you, nor
will you dwell long in the world to enjoy them, for the days
of man are short. The world passes away with its lusts,
but it dismisses you before it quite passes away itself.
How can you take unlimited pleasure in a love that soon
must end ? But I ever love you, not your possessions ; let
them go whence they were derived. I only require of you
one thing : that you would be mindful of your promise, and
not deny us any longer the satisfaction of your presence
among us, who love you sincerely, and will love you for ever.
In fact, if we love purely in our life, we shall also not be
divided in death. For those gifts which I wish for in your
case, or rather for you, belong not to the body or to time
only ; and so they fail not with the body, nor pass away
with time ; nay, when the body is laid aside they delight
still more, and last when time is gone. They have nothing
in common with the gifts above-mentioned, or such as they
with which, I imagine, not the Father, but the world has
endowed you. For which of these does not vanish before
death, or at last fall a victim to it ?
3. But, indeed, that is the best part, which shall not be
taken away for ever. What is that ? Eye hath not seen it,
nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of
man (i Cor. ii. 9). He who is a man and walks simply
according to man s nature only, he who, to speak more
plainly, is still content with flesh and blood, is wholly
ignorant what that is, because flesh and blood will not
356 LETTER CVII.
reveal the things which God alone reveals through His
Spirit. So the natural man is in no way admitted to the
secret; in fact, he receivcth not the tilings of the Spirit
of God (i Cor. ii. 14). Blessed are they who hear His
words. / have called you friends, for all things that: I
have heard of My Father I have made known to yon (S.
John xv. 15). O, wicked world, which wilt not bless thy
friends except thou make them enemies of God, and con
sequently unworthy of the council of the blessed. For
clearly he who is willing to be thy friend makes himself the
enemy of God. And if the servant knoweth not what his
Lord doeth, how much less the enemy? Moreover, the
friend of the Bridegroom standeth, and rejoiceth with joy
because of the Bridegroom s voice ; whence also it says,
My soul failed when [my beloved\ spake (Cant. v. 6).
And so the friend of the world is shut out from the council
of the friends of God, who have received not the spirit of
this world but the spirit which is of God, that they may
know the things which are given to them of God. / thank
Thee, O Father, because Thou hast hid these things from
the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes ;
even so, Father, for so it seemed good in Thy sight (S,
Matt. xi. 25, 26), not because they of themselves deserved it.
For all have sinned, and come short of Thy glory, that Thou
mayest freely send the Spirit of Thy Son, crying in the
hearts of the sons of adoption : Abba, Father. For those
who are led by this Spirit, they are sons, and cannot be
kept from their Fathers council. Indeed, they have the
Spirit dwelling within them, who searches even the deep
things of God. In short, of what can they be ignorant
whom grace teaches everything?
4. Woe unto you, ye sons of this world, because of your
wisdom, which is foolishness ! Ye know not the spirit of
salvation, nor have share in the counsel, which the Father
alone discloses alone to the Son, and to him to whom the
Son will reveal Him. For who hath known the mind of
the Lord? Or who hath been His counsellor? (Rom. xi.
34). Not, indeed, no one ; but only a few, only those who
LETTER CVII. 357
can truly say : The only begotten Son, which is in the
bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him. Woe to the
world for its clamour ! That same Only Begotten, like as
the Angel of a great revelation, proclaims among the
people : He who hath ears to hear let him hear. And
since he finds not ears worthy to receive His words, and to
whom He may commit the secret of the Father, he weaves
parables for the crowd, that hearing they might not hear,
and seeing they might not understand. But for His friends
how different ! With them He speaks apart : To you it is
given to knoiv the mysteries of the kingdom of God (S.
Luke viii. 8-10) ; to whom also He says: Fear not, little
flock, for it is yoiir Father s good pleasure to give you
the kingdom (S. Luke xii. 32). W T ho are these? These
are they whom He foreknew and foreordained to be con
formed to the image of His Son, that He might be the
first born among many brethren. The Lord knows who
are His. Here is His great secret and the counsel which
He has made known unto men. But He judges no others
worthy of a share in so great mystery, except those whom
He has foreknown and foreordained as His own. For
those whom He foreordained, them also He called. Who,
except he be called, may approach God s counsel ? Those
whom he called, them also He justified. Over them a Sun
arises, though not that sun which may daily be seen arising
over good and bad alike, but He of whom the Prophet
speaks when addressing himself to those alone who have
been called to the counsel, he says: Unto you that fear My
name shall the Sun of Righteousness arise (Malachi iv. 2). 1
So while the sons of unbelief remain in darkness, the child of
light leaves the power of darkness and comes into this new
light, if once he can with faith say to God : / am a com
panion of all them that fear Thee (Ps. cxix. 63). Do you
1 So all texts, except a few, in which the reading is : Indeed, that Sun is
promised to those who have been called," etc. In the first edition, and many
subsequent ones : " For the Sun which arises is not that which is daily to be
seen rising over good and bad, but one promised by the prophetic warning to
such as fear God, to those only who have been called," etc.
358 LETTER CVII.
see how faith precedes, in order that justification may
follow ? Perchance, then, we are called through fear, and
justified by love. Finally, the just shall live by faith
(Rom. i. 17), that faith, doubtless, which works by love
(Gal. v. 6).
5. So at his call let the sinner hear what he has to fear;
and thus coming to the Sun of Righteousness, let him, now
enlightened, see what he must love. For what is that
saying : The merciful goodness of the Lord endureth from
everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear Him (Ps.
ciii. 17). From everlasting, because of predestination, to
everlasting, because of glorification. The one process is
without beginning, the other know r s no ending. Indeed,
those whom He predestines from everlasting, He glorifies
to everlasting, with an interval, at least, in the case of
adults, of calling and justification between. So at the
rising of the Sun of Righteousness, the mystery, hidden
from eternity, concerning souls that have been predesti
nated and are to be glorified, begins in some degree to
emerge from the depths of eternity, as each soul, called by
fear and justified by love, becomes assured that it, too, is
of the number of the blessed, knowing well that whom He
justified, them also He glorified (Rom. viii. 30). What
then ? The soul hears that it is called when it is stricken
with fear. It feels also that it is justified when it is sur
rounded with love. Can it do otherwise than be confident
that it will be glorified ? There is a beginning ; there is
continuation. Can it despair only of the consummation ?
Indeed, if the fear of the Lord, in which our calling is
said to consist, is the beginning of wisdom, surely the love
of God that love, I mean, which springs from faith, and is
the source of our justification is progress in wisdom.
And so what but the consummation of \visdom is that
glorification which we hope for at the last from the vision
of God that will make us like Him ? And so one deep
calleth another because of the noise of the wafer-pipes (Ps.
xlii. 9), when, with terrible judgments, that unmeasured
Eternity and Eternal Immensity, whose wisdom cannot be
LETTER CVII. 359
told, leads the corrupt and inscrutable heart of man by Its
own power and goodness forth into Its own marvellous
light.
6. For instance, let us suppose a man in the world, held
fast as yet in the love of this world and of his flesh ; and,
inasmuch as he bears the image of the earthly man,
occupied with earthly things, without a thought of things
heavenly, can anyone fail to see that this man is surrounded
with horrible darkness, unless he also is sitting in the same
fatal gloom ? For no sign of his salvation has yet shone
upon him ; no inner inspiration bears its witness in his
heart as to whether an eternal predestination destines him
to good. But, then, suppose the heavenly compassion
vouchsafes sometime to have regard to him, and to shed upon
him a spirit of compunction to make him bemoan himself
and learn wisdom, change his life, subdue his flesh, love his
neighbour, cry to God, and resolve hereafter to live to God
and not to the world ; and suppose that thenceforward, by
the gracious visitation of heavenly light and the sudden
change accomplished by the Right Hand of the Most High,
he sees clearly that he is no longer a child of wrath, but of
grace, for he is now experiencing the fatherly love and
divine goodness towards him a love which hitherto had
been concealed from him so completely as not only to leave
him in ignorance whether he deserved love or hate, but also
as to make his own life indicate hatred rather than love, for
darkness was still on the face of the deep would it not
seem to you that such an one is lifted directly out of the
profoundest and darkest deep of horrible ignorance into
the pleasant and serene deep of eternal brightness ?
7. And then at length God, as it were, divides the light
from the darkness, when a sinner, enlightened by the first
rays of the Sun of Righteousness, casts off the works of
darkness and puts on the armour of light. His own
conscience and the sins of his former life alike doom him
as a true child of Hell to eternal fires ; but under the looks
with which the Dayspring from on high deigns to visit him,
he breathes again, and even begins to hope beyond hope
3 6 LETTER CVII.
that he shall enjoy the glory of the sons of God. For
rejoicing at the near prospect with unveiled face, he sees it
in the new light, and says : Lord, lift Thou up the light of
Thy countenance upon us ; Thou hast put gladness in my
heart (Ps. iv. 7) ; Lord, what is man that Thou hast such
respect unto him, or the son of man that Thou, so regardest
him ? (Ps. cxliv. 3). Now, O good Father, vile worm and
worthy of eternal hatred as he is, he yet trusts that he is
loved, because he feels that he loves ; nay, because he has
a foretaste of Thy love he does not blush to make return of
love. Now in Thy brightness it becomes clear, Oh ! Light
that no man can approach unto, what good things Thou
hast in store for so poor a thing as man, even though he be
evil ! He loves not undeservedly, because he was loved
without his deserving it ; and his love is for everlasting,
because he knows that he has been loved from everlasting.
He brings to light for the comfort of the sorrowful the
great design which from eternity had lain in the bosom of
eternity, namely, that God wills not the death of a sinner,
but rather that he should be converted and live. As a
witness of this secret, Oh! man, thou hast the justifying
Spirit bearing witness herein with thy spirit that thou
thyself also art the son of God. Acknowledge the counsel
of God in thy justification; confess it and say, Thy testi
monies are my delight and my counsellors (Ps. cxix. 24).
For thy present justification is the revelation of the Divine
counsel, and a preparation for future glory. Or rather,
perhaps, predestination itself is the preparation for it, and
justification is more the gradual drawing near unto it.
Indeed, it is said, Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is
at hand (S. Matt. iii. 2). And hear also of predestination
that it is the preparation : Come, inherit, He says, the
kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the
world (S. Matt. xxv. 34).
8. Let none, therefore, doubt that he is loved who already
loves. The love of God freely follows our love which it
preceded. For how can He grow weary of returning their
love to those whom He loved even while they yet loved
LETTER CVII. 361
Him not? He loved them, I say; yes, He loved. For as a
pledge of His love thou hast the Spirit ; thou hast also
Jesus, the faithful witness, and Him crucified. Oh ! double
proof, and that most sure, of God s love towards us. Christ
dies, and deserves to be loved by us. The Spirit works,
and makes Him to be loved. The One shows the reason
why He is loved : the Other how He is to be loved. The
J
One commends His own great love to us; the Other makes
it ours. In the One we see the object of love ; from the
Other we draw the power to love. With the One, there
fore, is the cause ; with the Other the gift of charity. What
shame to watch, with thankless eyes, the Son of God dying
and yet this may easily happen, if the Spirit be not with
us. But now, since The love of God is s/icd abroad in our
hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us (Rom. v.
5), having been loved we love ; and as we love, we deserve
to be loved yet more. For if, says the Apostle, while we
were vet enemies, we have been reconciled to God through
^ o
the death of His Son ; much more, being reconciled, shall
we be saved through His life (Rom. viii. 32). For He
that spared not His own Son , but delivered Him up for
us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all
things ?
O
9. Since, then, the token of our salvation is twofold,
namely, a twofold outpouring, of the Blood arid of the
Spirit, neither can profit without the other. For the Spirit
is not given except to such as believe in the Crucified ; and
faith avails not unless it works by love. But love is the
gift of the Spirit. If the second Adam (I speak of Christ)
not only became a living soul, but also a quickening spirit,
dying as being the one, and raising the dead as being the
other, how can that which dies in Him profit me, apart
from that which quickens ? Indeed, He Himself says : It
is the spirit that quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing
(S. John vi. 63). Now, what does "quickeneth" mean
except " justifieth ?" For as sin is the death of the soul
(The soul that sinneth it shall die, Ezek. xviii. 4), without
doubt righteousness is its life; for The just shall live by
362 LETTER CYII.
faith (Rom. i. 17). Who, then, is righteous, except he
who returns to God, who loves him, His meed of love?
And this never happens unless the Spirit by faith reveal to
the man the eternal purpose of God concerning his future
salvation. Such a revelation is simply the infusion of
spiritual grace, by which, with the mortification of the
deeds of the flesh, man is made ready for the kingdom
which flesh and blood cannot inherit. And he receives by
one and the same Spirit both the reason for thinking that
he is loved and the power of returning love, lest the love
of God for us should be left without return.
10. This, then, is that holy and secret counsel which the
Son has received from the Father by the Holy Spirit. This
by the same Spirit He imparts to His own whom He knows,
in their justification, and by the imparting He justifies.
Thus in his justification each of the faithful receives the
power to begin to know himself even as he is known :
when, for instance, there is given to him some foretaste of
his own future happiness, as he sees how it lay hid from
eternity in God, who foreordains it, but will appear more
fully in God, who is effecting it. But concerning the
knowledge that he has now, for his part, attained, let a man
glory at present in the hope, not in the secure possession of
it. How must we pity those who possess as yet no token
of their own calling to this glad assembly of the righteous..
Lord, who hath believed our report? (Is. liii. i). Oh!
that they would be wise and understand. But except they
believe they shall not understand.
11. But you, too, ye unhappy and heedless lovers
of the world, have your purpose far from that of the
just. Scale sticks close to scale, and there is no air
hole between you. You, too, oh ! sons of impiety, have
your purpose communicated one to another, but openly
against the Lord and against His Christ (Ps. ii. 2). For
if, as the Scripture says, The fear of God, that is piety
(Job xxviii. 28), 1 of course anyone who loves the world
1 The Ixx. has iSov BtotrefStia ttrri <ro(pia. The VULGATE reads " Ecce timor
Domini ipsa est sapientia, with which the A. V. coincides, " Behold the fear o
the Lord, that is wisdom." Does Bernard quote from memory ?
LETTER CVII. 363
more than God is convicted of impiety and idolatry, of
worshipping and serving the creature rather than the
Creator. But if, as has been said, the holy and impious
have each their purpose kept for themselves, doubtless there
is a great gulf fixed between the two. For as the just
keeps himself aloof from the purpose and council of evil
men (cf. Ps. i. 6), so the impious never rise in the judg
ment, nor sinners in the purpose 1 for the just. For there
is a purpose for the just, a gracious rain which God hath set
apart for His heritage. There is a purpose really secret,
descending like rain into a fleece of wool a sealed fount
whereof no stranger may partake a Sun of Righteousness
rising only for such as fear God.
12. Moreover, the prophet, noting that the rest remain in
their own dryness and darkness, being ignorant of the rain
and of the light of the just, mocks and brands their un
fruitful gloom and confused perversity. This is a nation,
he says, that obeyeth not the voice of the Lord their God
(Jer. vii. 28). You are not ready, oh ! miserable men, to
say with David, / will hearken what the Lord God will
say with regard to me (Ps. Ixxxv. 8), for being exhausted
abroad upon [the quest of] vanity and false folly, you seek
not for the deepest and best hearing of the truth. Oh ! ye
sons of men, how long will ye blaspheme mine honour, and
have such pleasure in vanity and seek after leasing (Ps. iv.
2). You are deaf to the voice of truth, and you know not
the purpose of Him who thinks thoughts of peace, who also
speaks peace to His people, and to His saints, and to such
as are converted in heart. Now, he says, ye are clean
tlirough the word which I have spoken to you (S. John xv.
3). Therefore, they who hear not this word are unclean.
13. But do you, dearly beloved, if you are making ready
your inward ear for this Voice of God that is sweeter than
honey and the honey-comb, flee from outward cares, that
with your inmost heart clear and free you also may say
with Samuel, Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth (i Sam.
1 This must be the reading, not " congregation," [concilia] as in Ps. i, for
the sense demands " purpose," [consilui] and the MSS. so read.
364 LETTER CVII.
iii. 9). This Voice sounds not in the market-place, and is
not heard in public. It is a secret purpose, and seeks to be
heard in secret. It will of a surety give you joy and glad
ness in hearing it, if you listen with attentive ear. Once it
ordered Abraham (Gen. xii. i) to get him out of his country
and from his kindred, that he might see and possess the
land of the living. Jacob (Gen. xxxii. 10) left his brother
and his home, and passed over Jordan with his staff, and
was received in Rachel s embrace (Gen. xxix. n). Joseph
was lord in Egypt (Gen. xxxvii. and xli.), having been
torn by a fraudful purchase from his father and his home.
Thus the Church is bidden, in order that the King may
have pleasure in her beauty, to forget her own people
and her father s house (Ps. xlv. n, 12). The boy Jesus
was sought by His parents among their kinsfolk and
acquaintance, and was not found (S. Luke ii. 44, 45).
Do you also flee from your brethren, if you wish to
find the way of salvation. Flee, I say, from the midst
of Babylon, flee from before the sword of the north-
wind. A bare sustenance I am ready to offer for the help
of everyone that flees. You call me your abbot ; I refuse
not the title for obedience sake obedience, I say, not that
I demand it, but that I render it in service to others, even
as The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but
to minister and to give His life a ransom for many (S.
Matt. xx. 28). But if you deem me worthy, receive as your
fellow-disciple him whom you choose for your master. For
we both have one Master, Christ. And so let Him be the
end of this Letter, who is The end of the law for righteous
ness to every one that believeth (Rom. x. 4).
LETTER CVIII.
To THOMAS OF ST. OMER/ AFTER HE HAD BROKEN HIS
PROMISE OF ADOPTING A CHANGE OF LIFE.
He urges linn to leave his studies and enter religion,
O >
and sets before him the miserable end of Thomas of
Sever ley.
1 See Letter 382.
LETTER CVIII. 365
To his dearly beloved son, THOMAS, Brother BERNARD,
called Abbot of Clairvaux, that he may walk in the fear of
the Lord.
i. You do well in acknowledging the debt of your
promise, and in not denying your guilt in deferring its
performance. But I beg you not to think simply of what
you promised, but to whom you promised it. For I do not
claim, for myself any part of that promise which you made,
in my presence, indeed, but not to me. Do not fear that I
am going to reprove you on account of that deceptive
delay : for I was summoned as the witness, not as the lord
of your vow. 1 I saw it and rejoiced; and my prayer is
that my joy may be full which it will not be until your
promise is fulfilled. You have fixed a time which you
ought not to have transgressed. You have transgressed it.
What is that to me ? To your own lord you shall stand or
fall. I have determined, because the danger is so imminent,
to deal with you neither by reproofs nor threats, but only
by advice and that only so far as you take it kindly. If
you shall hear me, well. If not, I judge no man ; there is
One who seeketh and judgeth; for He ii /w judgeth us is
the Lord (i Cor. iv. 4). And I think for this cause you
ought to fear and grieve the more, inasmuch as you have
not lied unto men, but unto God. And though, as you
wish, I spare your shame before men, is that shamelessness
to go unpunished before God ? For what reason, pray, is
there in feeling shame before the judgment of man and not
fearing the face of God ? For the face of the Lord is
against them that do evil (Ps. xxxiv. 16). Do you, then,
fear reproaches more than torments ; and clo you, who
tremble at the tongue of flesh, despise the sword which
devours the flesh? Are these the fine moral principles
with which, as you write, you are being stored in the
acquisition of knowledge, the ardour and love for which
1 Bernard regards as a vow that kind of promise by which a man had
determined in his presence to enter the religious state. See Letter 395, and
Sermons on Canticles, 63, n. 6, in which he mourns the lapse and fall of novices.
366 LETTER CVIII.
so heats and excites you that you do not fear to slight
your sacred vow ?
2. But, I pray you, what proof of virtue is it, what
instance of self-control, what advance in knowledge, or
artistic skill, to tremble with fear where no fear is needful,
and to lay aside even the fear of the Lord. How much
more wholesome the knowledge of Jesus and Him crucified
a knowledge, of course, not easy to acquire except for
Him who is crucified to the world. You are mistaken, my
son, quite mistaken, if you think that you can learn in the
school of the teachers of this world that knowledge which
only the disciples of Christ, that is, such as despise the
world, attain ; and that by the gift of God. This knowledge
is taught, not by the reading of books, but by grace ; not
by the letter, but by the spirit ; not by learning, but by
the practice of the commandments of God : Sow, says
the Prophet, to yourselves in righteousness, reap the hope
of life, kindle for yourselves the light of knowledge (cf.
Hos. x. 12). You see that the light of knowledge cannot
be duly attained, except the seed of righteousness [first]
enter the soul, so that from it may grow the grain of
life, and not the mere husk of vain glory. What then ?
You have not yet sown to yourself in righteousness, and
therefore you have not yet reaped the sheaves of hope ;
and do you pretend that you are acquiring the true know
ledge ? Perchance for the true there is being substituted
that which puffeth up. You err foolishly, Spending thy
money for that which is not bread, and thy labour for
that which satisfieth not (Is. Iv. 2). I entreat you, return
to the former wish of your heart, and realize that this year
of delay \vhich you have allowed to yourself has been a
wrong to God ; is not a year pleasing to the Lord, but a
seedplot of discord, an incentive to wrath, a food of
apostasy, such as must quench the Spirit, shut off grace,
and produce that lukewarmness which is wont to provoke
God to spue men out of His mouth (cf. Rev. iii. 16).
3. Alas ! I think that, as you are called by the same
name, so you walk in the same spirit as that other Thomas,
LETTER CVIII. 367
once, I mean, Provost of Beverley. For after devoting
himself, like you, to our Order and House with all his
heart, he began to beg for delay, and then by degrees to
grow cold, until he openly ended by being a Secular, an
apostate, and, twofold more, a child of hell, and was cut off
prematurely by a sudden and terrible death (S. Matt, xxiii.
15) a fate which, if it may be, let the pitiful and clement
Lord avert. The letter 1 which I wrote to him in vain still
survives. I simply freed my own mind, by warning him,
so far as I could, how it must soon end. How happy
would he have been if he had taken my advice ! He cloked
his sin. I am clean from his blood. But that is not enough
for me. For though in so acting I am quite at ease on my
own account, yet that charity which seeketh not her own
(i Cor. xiii. 5) urges me to mourn for him who died not in
safety, because he lived so carelessly. Oh ! the great depth
of the judgments of God ! Oh ! my God, terrible in Thy
counsels over the sons of men ! He bestowed the Spirit,
whom he was soon again to withdraw, so that a man sinned
a sin beyond measure, and grace found entrance that sin
might abound ; though this was the fault, not of the Giver,
but of him who added the transgression. For it was the act
of the man s own freewill (whereby, using badly his freedom)
he had the power to grieve the free Spirit) to despise the
grace instead of bringing to good effect the inspiration of
God, so as to be able to say : His grace which was bestowed
on me was not in vain (i Cor. xv. 10).
4. If you are wise, you will let his folly profit you as a
warning ; you will wash your hands in the blood of the
sinner, and take care to release yourself at once from the
snare of perdition, and me from horrible fear on your
account. For, I confess, I feel your erring steps as the
rending of my heart, because you have become very dear
to me, and I feel a father s affection for you. Therefore,
at every remembrance of you that sword of fear pierces
through my heart the more sharply, as I consider that you
have too little fear and uneasiness. I know where I have
1 No. 107.
368 LETTER CIX.
read of such: For when they shall say peace and safety,
then sudden destruction comcth upon them, as travail
upon a woman with child, and they shall not escape (i
Thess. v. 3). Yea, I foresee that many fearful consequences
threaten you if you still delay to be wise. For I have had
much experience ; and Oh ! that you would share and
profit by it. So believe one who has had experience ;
believe one who loves you. For if you know 7 for the one
reason that I am not deceived, for the other you know also
that I am not capable of deceiving you.
LETTER CIX.
To THE ILLUSTRIOUS YOUTH, GEOFFREY DE PERRONE, 1
AND HIS COMRADES.
He pronounces the youths noble because they purpose to
lead the religious life, and exhorts them to perseverance.
To his beloved sons, GEOFFREY and his companions,
BERNARD, called Abbot of Clairvaux, wishes the spirit of
counsel and strength.
1 A very ancient edition reads Geoffrey de Parrone, which is a well-fortified
town on the Somme. So it is from that place that Godfrey derives his name and
lineage. He was one of those whom S. Bernard is said to have converted t>
religion in Belgium (See Life, Bk. iv. Chap. 3). A companion in his conversion
was the other Geoffrey, afterwards Prior of Clairvaux. The authority for this is
Herman, a monk of Tournay (Spicilf^ium, Vol. xii. p. 479), where he speaks of
S. Bernard, and says that " from the Church of S. Mary, of Tournay, as well as
from the diocese itself, many famous clerks followed Dom Bernard, Abbot of
Clairvaux, by whom they had attained to the grace of conversion." Herman
relates this fact, p. 476, after the twenty-fourth year of the Episcopate of Simon,
Bishop of Noyon, who acceded to that See 1122. This Letter, therefore, can
not, as Manrique thinks, be referred to 1 131. Peter de Koya, a novice of Clair
vaux (see Letter 479, 2, 9) gives praise to Geoff rey de Perrone. This is Mabillon s
view, but Horst does not agree, because he believes this same Geoffrey to have
been Prior of Clairvaux, of whom he has this account : " This man S. Ber
nard converted to religion in Flanders, with twenty-nine other noble and cultured
youths. But now that he is hesitating and delaying. Bernard urges him forward
in this Letter. Afterwards he became Prior of Clairvaux, the fifth in order, and
at length being elected Bishop cf Tournay (others say of Nantes), he declined the
honour. Peter of Blois records the story thus." We read that Geoffrey de
Perrone, Prior of Clairvaux, being elected Bishop of Tournay, entirely refused
LETTER CIX. 369
i. The news of your conversion that has got abroad is
edifying many, nay, is making glad the whole Church of
God, so that The heavens rejoice and the earth is glad (Ps.
xcvi. n), and every tongue glorifies God. The earth shook
and the heavens dropped at the presence of the God of
Sinai (cf. Ps. Ixviii. 8, 9), raining on those days more abun
dantly than usual a gracious rain which God keeps for His
inheritance (Ps. Ixvii. 9, 10, VuLG.). Never more will the
cross of Christ appear void of effect in you, as in many sons
of disobedience, who, delaying from day to day to turn to
God, are seized by sudden death, and go down straightway
to hell. We see flourish again under our eyes the wood
whereon the Lord of Glory hung, who died not for His own
nation only, But also that He should gather together in
one the children of God that were scattered abroad (S.
John xi. 52)." He, yes, He Himself draws you, who loves
you as His own flesh, as the most precious fruit of His
cross, as the most worthy recompense of the blood He
shed. If, then, the Angels Rejoice over one sinner that
repenteth (S. Luke xv. 10), how great must be their joy
over so many, and those, too, sinners. The more illustrious
they seemed for rank, for learning, for birth, for youth, the
wider was their influence as examples of perdition. I had
read, Not many noble, not many wise, not manv mightv
hath God chosen (i Cor. i. 26, 27). But to-day, through a
miracle of Divine power, a multitude of such is converted.
They hold present glory cheap, they spurn the charm of
youth, they take no account of high birth, they regard
the wisdom of the world as foolishness, they rest not
the election. Afterwards, when he was dead, he appeared to a certain brother,
who asked how it was with him, and in reply he said, " The Holy Trinity has
revealed to me that if I had undertaken the Episcopate I should have been of
the number of the lost." So by this instance he struck the hearts of certain
other prelates, saying, " What, then, will become of those unhappy beings who,
of their own will and pleasure, drown themselves in the flood of worldly cares,
who pass their life among vanities, dining luxuriously, sleeping, drinking, sitting
at the receipt of custom, paying out cash, seeking the things that are their own,
or rather the things that are Caesar s, and not God s ? " So Peter of Blois,
Letter 102. To the same effect Ccesarius, Bk. ii. c. 29. See on the matter
Henriquez, Menologium, Feb. 15.
VOL. I. 24
37
LETTER CIX.
in flesh and blood, they renounce the love of parents
and friends, they reckon favours and honours and dignities
as dung that they may gain Christ. I should praise you if
I knew that this, your lot, were your own doing. But it is
the finger of God, clearly a change due to the right hand of
the Most High (cf. Ps. Ixxvii. 10 VULG., Ixxvi. n). Your
conversion is a good gift and a perfect gift, without doubt
descending from the Father of lights (S. James i. 17). And
so to Him we rightly bring every voice of praise who only
doeth marvellous things, who hath caused that plenteous
redemption that is in Him to be no longer without effect in
you.
2. What, then, dearly beloved, remains for you to do,
except to make sure that your praiseworthy purpose attain
the end it deserves? Strive, therefore, for perseverance,
the only virtue that receives the crown. Let there not be
found among you Yea and Nay (2 Cor. i. 18, sg.), that ye
may be the sons of your Father which is in Heaven, with
whom, you know, there is no -variableness, neither shadow
of turning (S. James i. 17). You also, brethren, are
changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as
bv the Spirit of the Lord (2 Cor. iii. 18). Take heed with
all watchfulness not to be yourselves found light, inconstant,
or wavering. For it is written, A double-minded man is
unstable in all his ways (S. James i. 8), and again, Woe
be ... to the sinner that gocth two ways (Ecclus. ii. 12).
And for myself, dearly beloved, I congratulate you, and
myself not less, for, as I hear, I have been reckoned
worthy of being chosen to have a part in this, your good
purpose. I both give you my counsel and promise my
help. If I am thought necessary, or, rather, if I be deemed
worthy, I do not decline the task, and so far as in me lies
will not fail you. With eager devotion I submit my shoulders
to this burden, 1 old though they be, since it is laid on me
from heaven. With a glad heart and open arms, as they say,
I welcome the fellow-citizens of the saints and servants of
1 Hence it is clear that Bernard was already approaching old age when he
wrote this Letter.
LETTER CX.
37 1
God. How gladly, according to the prophet s command, do
I assist with my bread those that flee from the face of the
sword, and bring water to the thirsty (cf. Is. xxi. 14). The
rest I have left to the lips of my, or rather your, Geoffrey.
Whatsoever he shall say to you in my stead, that, doubt
not, is my counsel.
LETTER CX.
A CONSOLATORY LETTER TO THE PARENTS OF
GEOFFREY.
There is no reason to mourn a son as lost who is a
religions, still less to fear for his delicacy of constitution.
1. If God makes your son His son also, what do you lose
or what does he himself lose ? Being rich he becomes
richer ; being already high born, of still nobler lineage ;
being illustrious, he gains greater renown ; and what is
more than all once a sinner he is now a saint. He must
be prepared for the Kingdom that has been prepared for
him from the beginning of the world ; and for this end, the
short time that he has to live he must spend with us ; until
he has scraped off the tilth of the worldly life, and wiped
away the earthly dust, and at last is fit for the heavenly
mansion. If you love your son, of course you will rejoice,
because he goes to His Father and to such a Father as He.
Yea, he goes to God. But you lose him not : nay, rather
through him you gain many sons. For all of us who are in
or of Clairvaux, acknowledge him as a brother and you as
parents.
2. But perchance you fear the effect of a severe life upon
his body, which you know to be frail and delicate. But of
such fear it is said, " There were they brought in great
fear where no fear was" (Ps. xiv. 9). Reassure your
selves, and be comforted. I will be to him a father, and he
shall be to me a son, until the Father of mercies and the
God of all consolation (cf. Rom. xv. 5) receive him from
my hands. So do not mourn ; do not weep. For your
372 LETTER CXI.
Geoffrey is hastening to joy and not to grief. I will be to
him father, mother, brother, and sister. I will make the
crooked straight for him and the rough ways smootli (cf.
S. Luke iii. 5). I will so order and arrange everything for
him that his soul shall profit and his body not suffer loss.
Moreover, he shall serve the Lord in joy and gladness, and
shall sing in the ways of the Lord that great is the glory
of the Lord (Ps. cxxxviii. 5).
LETTER CXI.
IN THE PERSON OF ELIAS, A MONK, TO HIS PARENTS.
He exhorts them not to try to hinder him in or draw him
back from his wish to serve God. Such attempt would be
unworthy and useless.
ELIAS, a monk, but a sinner withal, to his dear parents
INGORRAN and IVETTE, with his daily prayers. 1
i. There is only one circumstance in which it would be
wrong to obey parents, and that is when God forbids it.
For He Himself says: "He that lovcth father or mother
more than me is not worthy of me" (S. Matt. x. 37). If
you love me in truth like good and affectionate parents : if
you have a true and faithful affection towards your son, why
are you restless at my hastening to please God, the Father
of all ? and why do you try to withdraw me from His ser
vice, whom to serve is to reign? Truly now I see how
a man s enemies arc the men of his oian house (Micah
1 This heading is now for the first time restored from the Corbey MS., which
is much valued. Is this Letter one of those which the Saint sometimes entrusted
to the composition of scribes? (see Ep. 38g). Of it Horst speaks as follows :
" Bernard wrote this Letter in the name of Elias, his novice, to his parents, that
he might restrain them in their attempt to dissuade their son from his purpose/
" Its contents," says Lessius, " might have seemed rather severe, had they not
proceeded from so great wisdom and piety. For who would dare reprove that
chosen instrument of the Holy Spirit? He knew how important the question
was. Yet it is not his way to write in such sharp tones, unless it is clear that
their importunity must throw a man into great danger, or that his friends do
not cease pressing him. See that most useful treatise on " The choice of a
position in life," quest. 4, 36 ; compare Letter 104.
LETTER CXI. 373
vii. 6). Herein I must not obey you ; herein I own you
not as parents, but as foes. If you loved me, surely you
would rejoice because I go to my Father and your Father,
nay, to the Father of all. Besides, what is there common
between me and you ? What have I from you but sin and
misery ? It is only this corruptible body which I wear that
I confess and own to have from you. Is it not enough for
you unhappy ones, to have brought me unhappy into the
unhappiness of this world ; for you sinners, to have given
birth in your sin to me a sinner ; to have reared in sin a son
born in sin ; but you must, by grudging me the compassion
which I have gained from Him who willeth not the death
of a sinner, make me besides all this, a child of Hell ?
2. O, stern father ! O, harsh mother ! O, parents cruel
and void of affection -nay, not parents at all, but mur
derers, whose only grief is the salvation of their offspring,
whose only comfort the death of their son, who would
rather I should perish with them than reign without them !
They are trying to call me back again to the wreck from
w r hich I at last escaped, naked ; back to the fire from which
with much difficulty I have emerged, half-burnt ; back to
the robbers by whom I was left half-dead, but from whom,
through the compassion of the Good Samaritan, I have now
a little recovered. Aye, and in the moment of triumph,
when the soldier of Christ has almost carried the citadel of
heaven -I boast not in myself but in Him who has con
quered the world they strive to bring him back to the
world from the very threshold of glory, as it were a dog to
his vomit, a sow to her wallowing in the mire. What
monstrous treatment ! The house is in flames, the fire
presses on from behind. He who would flee is prevented
from going out ; he who would escape is persuaded to re
turn ! And that by those who are set in the midst of
the conflagration, and who, out of sheer obstinate in
fatuation and infatuated obstinacy, will not flee from
the danger ! What madness ! If you think nothing of
your own death, why do you also wish for mine ? If,
I say, you neglect your own salvation, what pleasure
374 LETTER CXI.
is it to put hindrance in the way of mine ? Why not
rather follow me in my flight, that you may escape
the flames? But, perhaps, it lightens your torment
if you drag me also into your ruin ; and your only fear is
to perish by yourselves ? What solace will the burning of
one man be able to afford to others in like case? What
comfort, I ask, is it to the damned to have partners in their
damnation ? What remedy is it to the dying to see others
dying ? That is not the belief that I learn from the rich
man of Scripture, who, being in torments (cf. S. Luke xvi.
28) and despairing of freedom for himself, asked that a
message might be sent to his brethren, lest they also should
come to the same place of torment. Doubtless he feared
that his own suffering would be increased by that of his
kindred.
3. What then ? Shall I go and console my sorrowing
mother by a short visit in time, simply that in eternity I
may sorrow both for myself and her without consolation?
Shall I go, I say, and make amends to my angry father for
my absence in time, and myself find comfort for a time in
his presence, that afterwards each for himself and either
for other we may be abandoned to an inconsolable grief?
Were it not better to follow the example of the Apostle,
and, Conferring not with flesh and blood (Gal. i. 16), to
listen to the voice of the Lord, who commands, Let the
dead bury their dead ? (S. Matt. viii. 22). Shall I not
sing with David, My soul refused comfort (Ps. Ixxvii. 2),
and with Jeremiah, Neither have I desired the woeful day,
thou knowest ? (Jer. xvii. 16). For why? The lot is
fallen unto me in a fair ground ; yea, I have a goodly
heritage (Ps. xvi. 7). Am I, then, tricked by an earthly
promise, or charmed by some fleshly comfort? When men
have tasted of spiritual dainties, needs must that those of
the flesh seem tasteless. Set your affections on things
above, and things below are insipid ; yearn after things
eternal, and you scorn things transient. Cease, then, my
dear parents, cease to trouble yourselves with vain laments
and to disturb me to no purpose by calling me back; lest,
LETTER CXII. 375
if you keep on sending messengers about me, you compel
me to withdraw still more. But if you abandon [me], I shall
never abandon Clairvaux : This shall be rny rest for ever ;
here -will I dwell, for I have a delight therein (Ps. cxxxii.
15). Here will I pray instantly for your sins and mine;
here with constant prayers will I obtain, if I can, what you
also desire, that we, who for love of Him are separated
from each other for this short life, may in the happy and
indissoluble fellowship of another world live in His love
for ever and ever. Amen.
LETTER CXII.
To GEOFFREY, OF LisiEux. 1
He grieves at his having abandoned his purpose to enter
the religious life and returned to the world. He c.xJwrts
him to be wise again.
i. I am grieved for you, my son Geoffrey, I am grieved
for you. And not without reason. For who would not
grieve that the flower of your youth, which, amid the joy
of angels, you offered unimpaired to God for the odour of
a sweet smell (Phil. iv. 18), should now be trampled under
the feet of devils, stained by the filthiness of vice and the
uncleanness of the world ? How can you, who once wast
called by God, follow the devil who calls you back ? How
is it that you, whom Christ began to draw after Himself,
have suddenly withdrawn your foot from the very threshold
of glory ? In you I now have proof of the truth of the
Lord s word, when He said: A man s foes shall be they of
his own household (S. Matt. x. 36). Your friends and
kinsfolk have approached and stood against you. They
have called you back into the jaws of the lion, and have
placed you once more in the gates of death. They have
1 Some have " Luxeuil." This word Ordericus also generally uses to designate
Lisieux, in Xeustria, so that there is no uniform distinction of names between
Lisieux and Luxeuil, in the County of Burgundy, found among writers of this
period.
376 LETTER CXIII.
placed you in dark places, like the dead of this world ; and
now it is a matter for little surprise that you are descending
into the belly of hell, which is hasting to swallow you up,
and to give you over as a prey to be devoured by those
who roar in their hunger.
2. Return, I pray you ; return before the deep swallow
thee up and the pit shut her mouth upon thee (Ps. Ixix.
1 6); before you sink whence you shall never more rise;
before you be bound hand and foot and cast into outer
darkness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth
(S. Matt. xxii. 13) ; before you be thrust down to the place
of darkness and covered with the gloom of death. Perhaps
you blush to return, because you gave way for an hour.
Blush, indeed, for your flight, but do not blush to return to
the battle after your flight, and to fight again. The fight is
not over yet. Not yet have the opposing lines drawn off
from each other. Victory is still in your power. If you
will, we are unwilling to conquer without you, and we do
not grudge to you your share of glory. I will even gladly
come to meet you and gladly welcome you with open arms,
saying : It is meet that we should make merry and be
glad ; for this thy brother was dead and is alive again ;
he was lost and is found (S. Luke xv. 32).
LETTER CXIII.
To THE VIRGIN SOPHIA.
He praises her for having despised the glory of the
world : and, setting forth the praises, privileges, and
rewards of Religious Virgins, exhorts her to persevere.
BERNARD, Abbot of Clairvaux, to the Virgin SOPHIA,
that she may keep the title of virginity and attain its
reward.
i. Favour is deceitful and beauty is vain; but a
woman that fearet/i the Lord, she shall be praised
(Prov. xxxi. 31). I rejoice with you, my daughter, in the
LETTER CXI1I. 377
glory of your virtue, whereby, as I hear, you have been
enabled to reject the deceitful glory of the world. That,
indeed, deserves rejection and disdain. But whereas
many who in other respects are wise, are in their estima
tion of worldly glory become foolish, you deserve to be
praised for not being deceived. It is as the flower of the grass
(James i. 10) a vapour that appcareth for a little time
iS. James iv. 14). And every degree of that glory is without
doubt more full of care than joy. At one time you have
claims to advance, at another, yourself to defend; you envy
others, or are suspicious of them; you are continually aim
ing to acquire what you do not possess, and the passion for
acquiring is not satisfied even by success ; and as long as
this is the case, what rest is there in your glory? But if
any there be, its enjoyment quickly passes, never to return;
while care remains, never to leave. Besides, see how
many fail to attain that enjoyment, and yet how few
despise it. Why so ? Just because though many of neces
sity endure it [i.e., the deprivation of pleasure], yet but
few make of doing so a virtue. Few, I say, very few, and
particularly of the nobly-born. Indeed, not many noble
are called ; but God hath chosen the base things of the
world (i Cor. i. 26-28). You are, then, blessed and privileged
among women of your rank in that, while others strive in
rivalry for worldly glory, you by your contempt of this
glory are raised to a greater height of glory, and are
elevated by glory of a higher kind. Certainly you are the
more renowned and illustrious for having made yourself
voluntarily humble than for your birth in a high rank.
For the one is your own achievement by the grace of God,
the other is the doing of your ancestors. And that which
is your own is the more precious, as it is the most rare.
For if among men virtue is rare a " rare bird on the
earth " how much rarer is it in the case of a weak woman
of high birth ? Who can find a virtuous woman ? (Prov.
xxxi. 10). Much more " a virtuous woman " of high birth
as well. Although God is not by any means an accepter
of persons, yet, I know not how, virtue is more pleasing in
37$ LETTER CXIII.
those of noble birth. Perhaps that may be because it is more-
conspicuous. For if a man is of mean birth and is devoid
of glory, it is not easily clear whether he lacks virtue
because he does not wish for it or because he cannot attain
it. I honour virtue won under stress of necessity. But I
honour more the virtue which a free choice adopts than that
which necessity imposes.
2. Let other women, then, who have not any other hope,
contend for the cheap, fleeting, and paltry glory of things
that vanish and deceive. Do you cling to the hope that
confounds not. Do you keep yourself, I say, for that far
more exceeding -weight of glory, which our light affliction,
which is but for a moment, workcth (2 Cor. iv. 17) for you
on high. And if the daughters of Belial reproach you,
those who walk with stretched forth necks mincing as thcv
go (Isaiah iii. 16), decked out and adorned like the Temple,
answer them : My kingdom is not of this world (S. John
xviii. 36) ; answer them : My time is not yet come, but
your time is always ready (S. John vii. 6) ; answer them :
My glory is hid with Christ in God (Col. iii. 3) ; When
Christ, who is my life, shall appear, then shall I also
appear with Him in glory (Col. iii. 4). And yet if one
needs must glory, you also may glory freely and fearlessly,
only in the Lord. I omit the crown which the Lord hath
prepared for you for ever. I say nothing of the promises
which await you hereafter, that as a happy bride you are to
be admitted to behold with open face the glory of your
Bridegroom ; that He will present you to Himself a
glorious bride, not having spot or wrinkle or any such
thing (Eph. v. 27) ; that He will receive you in an ever
lasting embrace, will place His lift hand under your head
and His right hand shall embrace you (Cant. ii. 6). I pass
over the appointed place, which being set apart by the
prerogative of virginity, you shall without doubt gain
among sons and daughters in the kingdom. I say nothing
of that new song which you, a virgin among virgins, shall
likewise sing in tones of unrivalled sweetness, rejoicing
therein and making glad the city of God, singing and
LETTER CXI1I. 379
running and following the Lamb whithersoever he goeth.
In fact, eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither have
entered into the heart of man the things which He hath
prepared (i Cor. ii. 9) for you, and for which it behoves you
to be prepared.
3. All this I omit, that is laid up for you hereafter. I
speak only of the present, of those things which you already
have, of the first fruits of the Spirit (Rom. viii. 23), the
gifts of the Bridegroom, the earnest money of the espousals,
the blessings of goodness (Ps. xxi. 3), wherewith he hath
prevented you, whom you may expect to follow after you,
and complete what still is lacking. Let Him, yea let Him,
come forth to be beheld in His great beauty, so adorned as
to be admired of the very angels, and if the daughters of
Babylon, whose glory is in their shame (Phil. iii. 19), have
aught like Him, let them bring it forth, Though they be clothed
in purple and fine linen (S. Luke xvi. 19). Yet their souls
are in rags; they have sparkling necklaces, but tarnished
minds. You, on the other hand, though ragged without,
are all glorious within (Ps. xlv. 14), though to Divine and not
human gaze. Within you have that which delights you, for
He is within whom it delights ; for certainly you do not doubt
that you have Christ dwelling in your heart by faith (Eph.
iii. 17). In truth, The King s daughter is all glorious
within (Ps. xlv. 14). Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Z ion :
slwut, O daughter of Jerusalem, because the King hath
desired thy beauty ; if thou art clothed witli confession
and honour (Ps. civ. i, VuLG.), and deckest thyself with
livht as it were with a garment For confession and
<S G> *"
worship arc before Him (Ps. xcvi. 6, VULG.). Before
whom? Him who \% fairer than the sons of men (Ps. xlv.
3), even Him whom the angels desire to look upon.
4. You hear, then, to whom you are pleasing. Love that
which enables you to please, love " confession," if you
desire "honour." "Confession" is the handmaid of
" honour," the handmaid of " worship." Both are for you.
"Thou art clothed with confession and honour," and
" Confession and worship are before Him." In truth,
380 LETTER CXIII.
where confession is, there is worship, and there is honour.
If there are sins, they are washed away in confession ; if
there are good works, they are commended by confession.
When you confess your faults, it is a sacrifice to God of a
troubled spirit ; when you confess the benefits of God, you
offer to God the sacrifice of praise. Confession is a
fair ornament of the soul, which both cleanses a sinner and
makes the righteous more thoroughly cleansed. Without
confession the righteous is deemed ungrateful, and the
sinner accounted dead. Confession perisheth from tiie
dead as from one that is not (Ecclus. xvii. 28). Confes
sion, therefore, is the life of the sinner, the glory of the
righteous. It is necessary to the sinner, it is equally proper
to the righteous. For it becometh well the just to be
thankful (Ps. xxxiii. i). Silk and purple and rouge and
paint have beauty, but impart it not. Every such
thing that you apply to the body exhibits its own loveli
ness, but leaves it not behind. It takes the beauty with it,
when the thing itself is taken away. For the beauty that
is put on with a garment and is put off with the garment,
belongs without doubt to the garment, and not to the
wearer of it.
5. Do not you, therefore, emulate those evil disposed
persons who, as mendicants, seek an extraneous beauty
when they have lost their own. They only betray how
destitute they are of any proper and native beauty, when
at such great labour and cost they study to furnish them
selves outside with the many and various graces of the
fashion of the world which passeth away, just that they
may appear graceful in the eyes of fools. Deem it a thing
unworthy of you to borrow your attractiveness from the
furs of animals and the toils of worms ; let your own
suffice you. For that is the true and proper beauty of any
thing, which it has in itself without the aid of any substance
besides. Oh ! how lovely the flush with which the jewel of
inborn modesty colours a virgin s cheeks ! Can the ear
rings of queens be compared to this ? And self-discipline
confers a mark of equal beauty. How self-discipline calms
LETTER CXIII. 381
the whole aspect of a maiden s bearing, her whole temper
of mind. It bows the neck, smooths the proud brows,
composes the countenance, restrains the eyes, represses
laughter, checks the tongue, tempers the appetite, assuages
wrath, and guides the deportment. With such pearls of
modesty should your robe be decked. When virginity is
girt with divers colours such as these, is there any glory to
which it is not rightly preferred ? The Angelic ? An angel
has virginity, indeed, but not flesh ; and in that respect
his happiness exceeds his virtue. Surely that adornment
is best and most desirable which even an angel might envy.
6. There remains still one more remark to be made
about the adornment of the Christian virgin. The more
peculiarly your own it is, the more secure it remains to
you. You see women of the world burdened, rather than
adorned, with gold, silver, precious stones ; in short, with
all the raiment of a palace. You see how they draw long-
trains behind them, and those of the most costly materials,
and raise thick clouds of dust into the air. Let not such
things disturb you. They must lay them aside when they
come to die ; but the holiness which is your possession will
not forsake you. The things which they wear are really
not their own. When they die they can take nothing with
them, nor will this their glory go down with them. The
world, whose such things are, will keep them and dismiss
the wearers naked ; and will beguile with them others
equally vain. But that adornment of yours is not of such
sort. As I said, you may be quite sure that it will not
leave you, because it is your own. You cannot be deprived
of it by the violence, nor defrauded of it by the deceit of
any man. Against such possessions the cunning of the
thief and the cruelty of the tyrant avail nothing. It is not
eaten of moths, nor corrupted by age, nor spent by use.
It lives on even in death. Indeed, it belongs to the soul
and not to the body ; and for this reason it leaves the body
together with the soul, and does not perish with the body.
And even those who kill the body have absolutely nothing
that they can do to the soul.
382 LETTER CXIV.
LETTER CXIV.
TO ANOTHER HOLY VIRGIN.
Under a religious habit she had continued to have a
spirit given up to the world, and Bernard praises her for
coming to a sense of her duty ; he exhorts her not to
neglect the grace given to her.
i. It is the source of great joy to me to hear that you are
willing to strive after that true and perfect joy, which be
longs not to earth but to heaven ; that is, not to this vale of
tears, but to that city of God which the rivers of the flood
thereof make glad (Ps. xlvi. 4). And in very truth that is
the true and only joy which is won, not from the creature,
but from the Creator ; which, if once you possess it, no
man shall take from you. For, compared with it, all joy
from other sources is sorrow, all pleasure is pain, all sweet
ness is bitter, all beauty is mean, everything else, in fine;,
whatever may have power to please, is irksome. Indeed, you
are my witness in this matter. Ask yourself, for you will
believe yourself more readily. Does not the Holy Spirit
proclaim this very truth in your heart ? Have you not been
persuaded of the truth hereof by Him long before I spoke ?
For how would you, being a woman, or rather a young girl
so fair and ingenuous, have thus overcome the weakness of
your sex and years ; how could you thus hold cheap your
extreme beauty and noble birth, unless all such things as
are subject to the bodily senses were already vile in your
eyes, in comparison with those which inwardly strengthen
you to overcome the earthly, and charm you to prefer
things heavenly ?
2. And this is right. Poor and transient and earthly are
the things which you despise, but the things you w r ish for
are grand, heavenly, and everlasting. I will say still more,
and still speak the truth. You leave the darkness to ap
proach the light; you come forth from the depth of the sea
and gain the harbour ; you breathe again in happy freedom
after a wretched slavery ; in a word, you pass from death
LETTER CXIV. 383
to life ; though up till now, living according to your own
will and not God s, to your own law and not that of God,
while living you were dead living to the world, but dead
to God ; or rather, to speak more truly, living neither to
the world nor to God. For when you wished while wearing
the habit and name of religion to live like one in the world,
you alone had rejected God from you by your own wish.
But when you could not effect your foolish wish, then it
was not you that rejected the world, but the world you.
And so, rejecting God and rejected by the world, you had
fallen between two stools, 1 as they say. You were not
livino- unto God, because you would not, nor to the world,
O *
because you could not: you were anxious for one, unwelcome
to the other, and yet dead to both. So it must happen to
those who promise and do not perform, who make one show-
to the world, and in their hearts desire something else.
But now, by the mercy of God, you are beginning to live
again, not to sin, but to righteousness, not to the world, but
to Christ, knowing that to live to the world is death, and
even to die in Christ is life. Blessed are the dead which
die in the Lord (Rev. xiv. 13).
3. So from this time I shall not mention again your un
fulfilled vow, nor your disregard of your profession. From
henceforth your purity of body will not be impaired by a
corrupt mind, nor your name of virgin disgraced by dis
orderly conduct ; from henceforth the name you bear will
not be a deception, nor the veil you wear meaningless. For
why hitherto have you been addressed as " nun "- and " holy
virgin" when, professing holiness, you did not live holily?
Why did you let the veil on your head give a false impres
sion of the reverence due to you, while your eye launched
burning and passionate glances ? Your head was clothed,
1 Compare in this place Imitation of Christ, Bk. i. c. 25. "A religious per
son who has become slothful and lukewarm lias trouble upon trouble, and suffers
anguish on every side, because he lacks consolation from within, and is debarred
from seeking it without." Read also Sermons 3 and 5 upon the Ascension.
- This expression is borrowed from the Rule of S. Benedict, in which it is said
that the younger shall call their elders iwnna (in monasteries for men nonnus)
Chap. Ixiii.
384 LETTER CXIV.
indeed, with a veil, but it was lifted up with pride, and
though you were under the symbol of modesty, your speech
sounded far from modest. Your immoderate laughter, un
reserved demeanour, and showy dress would have accorded
better with the wimple 1 than the veil. But behold now, at
the bidding of Christ, the old things have passed away, and
all things begin to be made new, since you are changing
the care of the body for that of the soul, and are desirous of
a beautiful life more than beautiful raiment. You are doing
w T hat you ought to do, or rather what you ought to have
done long ago, for long ago you had vowed to do it. But
the Spirit, who breathes not only where He will but when
He will, had not then breathed on you, and so, perhaps, you
are to be excused for what you have done hitherto. But if
you suffer the ardent zeal wherewith, beyond a doubt, your
heart is now hot again, and the divine flame that burns in
your thoughts, to be quenched, what remains for you but
the certain knowledge that you must be destined for that
flame which cannot be quenched. Nay, let the same Spirit
rather quench in you all carnal affections, lest haply (which
God forbid !) the holy desires of your soul, so late conceived,
should be stifled by them, and you yourself be cast into hell
fire.
1 Wimple. So all the MS. codices that I have seen, viz., at the Royal
Library, Colbert Library, Sorbonne, Royal College of Navarre, S. Victor of Paris
MS., MS. of Compiegne, and others at other libraries, which have "with the
wimple" (wimplatge), though all editions except two (viz., that of Paris, 1494,
and of Lyons, 1530) have "one puffed up" (uni inflates). They ask what
" with the wimple " (wimplatse) means. Of course it is a word formed from
wimple or guimple, owing to the easy change of g to w. In French " guimpe "
or " guimple is a woman s head-dress, once common with women of noble
birth (as we learn from the old pictures of noble ladies), but the more simple
and modest refrained from wearing it. So we read in the French poet, contained
in Borellus Glossarium Gallicum :
Moult fut humiliant et simple
Elle cut une voile en lieu de guimple.
Which may be rendered
She was a lowly girl and simple,
And wore a veil in place of wimple.
Now, however, the word " wimple " is scarcely heard outside the cloisters of
nuns.
LETTER CXV. 385
LETTER CXV.
TO ANOTHER HOLY VIRGIN OF THE CONVENT OF S.
MARY OF TROYES. 1
He dissuades her from the rash and imprudent design
which she had in her mind of retiring into some solitude.
i. I am told that you are wishing to leave your convent,
impelled by a longing for a more ascetic life, and that after
spending all their efforts to dissuade and prevent you,
seeing that you paid no heed to them, your spiritual
mother or your sisters, determined at length to seek mv
advice on the matter, so that whatever course I approved,
that you might feel it your duty to adopt. You ought, of
course, to have chosen some more learned man as an
adviser; yet since it is my advice you desire to have, I do
not conceal from you what I think the better course. Ever
since I learnt your wish, though I have been turning the
matter over in my mind, I cannot easily venture to decide
what temper of mind suggested it. For you may in this
thing have a zeal towards God, so that your purpose maybe
excusable. But how such a wish as yours can be fulfilled
consistently with prudence I entirely fail to see. " Why
so?" you ask. "Is it not wise for me to flee from wealth and
the throng of cities, and from the good cheer and pleasure of
life ? Shall I not keep my purity more safely in the desert,
where I can live in peace with just a few, or even alone, and
please Him alone to whom I have pledged myself?" By no
means. If one would live in an evil manner, the desert
brings abundant opportunity : the wood a protecting shade,
and solitude silence. The evil that no one sees, no one
reproves. Where no critic is feared, there the tempter
gains easier access, there wickedness is more readily com
mitted. It is otherwise in a convent. If you do anythino-
good no one prevents you, but if you would do evil you are
hindered by many obstacles. If you yield to temptation, it
1 This convent still exists under the rule of S. Benedict. It had lately been,
as Bernard testifies, the object of a reform when he wrote. [Mabillon s note.]
VOL. I. 25
386 LETTER CXV.
is at once known to many, and is reproved and corrected.
So, on the other hand, when you are seen to do anything
good, all admire, revere, and copy it. You see, then, my
daughter, that in a convent a larger renown awaits your
good deeds, and a more speedy rebuke your faults, because
there are others there to whom you may set an example:
by good deeds and whom you will offend by evil.
2. But I will take away from you every excuse for your
error, by that alternative in the parable we read in the
Gospel. Either you are one of the foolish virgins, if, indeed,
you are a virgin, or one of the wise (S. Matt. xxv. 1-12).
If you are one of the foolish, the convent is necessary to
you ; if of the wise, you are necessary to the convent. For
if you are wise and well-approved, without doubt the reform
w r hich, though newly introduced into that place, has already
won universal praise, will be greatly discredited, and, I fear,
be weakened by your departure. It will not fail to be said
that, being good yourself, you would not desert a house
where the Rule was well carried out. 1 If you have been
known to be foolish, and you go away, we shall say that
since you are not suffered to live an evil life among good
companions, you could not endure longer the society of holy
women, and are seeking a dwelling where you may live in
your own way. And we shall be quite right. For before
the reform of the Rule you never, I am told, were wont to
talk of this plan ; but no sooner did observances become
stricter, than you, too, became suddenly holier, and in hot
haste to think of the desert. I see, my daughter, I see
in this, and I would you also saw as I do, the serpent s
venom, the guile of the crafty one, and the trickery of his
changing skin. The wolf dwells in the wood. If a poor
little sheep like you should enter the shades of the wood
alone you would be simply seeking to be his prey. But listen
tome, my daughter; listen to my faithful warning. Whether
sinner or saint, do not separate yourself from the flock, lest
the enemy seize upon you, and there be none to deliver
1 Cf. the French equivalent Le bon ordre," i.e., the strict Rule of Monastic
Life.
LETTER CXVI. 387
you. Are you a saint ? Strive by your example to gain
associates in sanctity. A sinner? Do not add sin to sin,
but do penance where you are, lest by departing, not with
out danger, as I have shown, to yourself, you bring scandal
upon your sisters, and provoke the tongues of many scoffers
against you.
LETTER CXVI.
To ERMENGARDE, FORMERLY COUNTESS OF BRITTANY. l
He gently and tenderly assures her that he has for her
all the sentiments of pure and religious affection.
To his beloved daughter in Christ, ERMENGARDE, once
the most noble Countess, now the humble handmaid of
Christ, BERNARD, Abbot of Clairvaux, offers the pious
affection of holy love.
Would that, as I now open this page before me, so I
could open my mind to you ! Oh ! that you could read in
my heart what God has deigned to write there with His
1 She was the wife of Count Alan, and a great benefactress to Clairvaux.
She built the monks a monastery near the town of Nantes (see Ernald, Life
of S. Benu/id, ii. 34, and according to Mabillon s Chronology, 1135 A.D.). The
name of the monastery is Buzay ; it is presided over by the most illustrious
Abbot Caumartin, who has communicated to me the first charter founding the
convent. In this charter Duke Conan, son of Alan and Ermengarde, asserts
that he and his mother had determined to build the Abbey of Buzay, but that,
misled by evil counsel of certain persons, they had desisted from their under
taking. At length Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, came into those parts. The
House of Buzay was dependent upon his abbey. Bernard, seeing the place
almost desolate, was deeply grieved, " and," says Conan, " rebuked me with
the most severe reproofs as false and perfidious ; and then ordered the abbot
and monks who tarried there to abandon the place and return to Clairvaux.
Conan interposed, and after restoring the property of the monastery which lie
had taken away, took steps for the completion of the building. The charter is
signed by Bishops Roland, of Vannes ; Alan, of Rennes ; John, of St. Malo ;
Iterius, of Nantes ; and also by Peter, Abbot of the monastery, and Andrew, a
monk. But to return to Ermengarde. Godfrey, Abbot of Vendome (Bk. v.
Letter 23), urges her to resume her purpose of entering the religious life, which
she appears to have abandoned. The same Godfrey, in the next Letter, speaks
of her as of royal blood.
388 LETTER CXVII.
own linger concerning my affection for you ! Then, indeed,,
you might understand, how no tongue or pen can suffice to
express, what the spirit of God hath been able to impress
on my inmost heart ! And even now I am present with
you in the spirit, though absent in the body. It is neither
in your power nor mine to be in the presence of the other.
Yet you have with you the means whereby you may not
yet know, but at any rate guess what I mean. Within your
own heart behold mine ; and ascribe to me as great affection
toward you as you know to be in yourself towards me. Yet
do not think that you have more for me than I for you ; nor
have a better opinion of your own heart than of mine, in
respect of affection. Besides, you are too humble and
modest not to believe that He who has brought you so to
love me and to follow my counsel for your salvation has
inspired me also with feelings of affectionate concern for
you. So you are thinking how you may keep me with you ;
and I, to confess the truth, am nowhere without you or
away from you. I was anxious to write this short note to
you about my journey while on the way, hoping to send
you a longer one when I have more leisure, if God will.
LETTER CXVII.
To THE SAME.
He commends her readiness in God s service, and
expresses his desire to see her.
I have received the joy of my heart, good news from you.
I am happy to hear of your happiness ; and your ready
service, now so well known, makes me quite easy in mind.
This great happiness comes in no way from flesh and blood,
for you are living in lowliness instead of state, in mean, not
high place, in poverty instead of wealth. You are deprived
of the consolation of living in your own country, and of the
society of your brother and your son. Without doubt, then,
the willing devotion that hath been born in you is the work
of the Holy Spirit. You have long since conceived by the
LETTER CXVIII. 389
fear of God the design of labouring for your salvation, and
have at last brought your design to execution, the spirit of
love casting out fear in your soul. How much more gladly
would I be present to say this to you, than be absent and
write ! Believe me, I am annoyed at my business, which
constantly seems to hinder me from the sight of you ; and
I hail with joy the chances, which I seldom seem to get, of
seeing you. Such opportunities are rare ; but, I confess,
their very rarity makes them sweet. For, indeed, it is
better to see you just sometimes than never at all. I hope
to come unto you shortly ; and I already offer you a fore
taste of the joy that shall shortly come in full.
LETTER CXVIII.
To BEATRICE, A NOBLE AND RELIGIOUS LADY.
He commends her love and anxious care.
I wonder at your zealous devotion and loving affection
towards me. I ask, excellent lady, what can possibly
inspire in you such great interest and solicitude for us ?
If we had been sons or grandsons, if we had been united to
you by the most distant tie of relationship, your constant
kindnesses, frequent visits, in a word, the numberless proofs
of your affection that we experience daily, would seem to
deserve, not so much our wonder, as our acceptance as a
matter of obligation. But as, in common with the rest of
mankind, we recognize in you only a great lady, and not a
mother, the wonder is not that we should wonder at your
goodness, but that we can wonder sufficiently. For who of
our kinsfolk and acquaintance takes care of us ? Who ever
asks of our health ? Who, I ask, is, I will not say anxious,
but even mindful of us in the world ? We are become, as
it were, a broken vessel to friends, relatives, and neighbours.
You alone cannot forget us. You ask of the state and
condition of my health, of the journey I have just ac
complished, of the monks whom I have transferred to
3QO LETTER CXIX.
another place. Of them I may briefly reply, that out of a
desert land, from a place of grim and vast solitude, they have
been brought into a place where nothing is wanting to
them, neither possessions, nor buildings, nor friends; into a
rich land and a lovely dwelling-place. I left them happy and
peaceful ; in happiness and peace, too, I returned ; except
that for a few days I was troubled with so severe a return
of fever that I was in fear of death. But by God s mercy
I soon got well again, so that now I think I am stronger
and better after my journey is over than before it began.
LETTER CXIX.
To THE DUKE AND DUCHESS OF LORRAINE. 1
He thanks them for having hitherto remitted customs [or
tolls], but asks that they will see that their princely
liberality is not interfered with by the efforts of their
servants.
To the Duke and Duchess of LORRAINE, BERNARD,
Abbot of Clairvaux, sends greeting, and prays that they
may so lovingly and purely rejoice in each other s affection
that the love of Christ alone may be supreme in them both.
Ever since the needs of our Order obliged me to send for
necessaries into your land I have found great favour and
kindness in the eyes of your Grace. You freely displayed
the blessings of your bounty on our people when they
needed it. You freely remitted to them when travelling
their toll, 2 the dues on their purchases, and any other legal
1 That is, Simon and Adelaide, not Gertrude, as most write. For the account
of the conversion of this Duchess by S. Bernard see Life, Bk. i. c. 14. She took
the veil of a Religious in the Nunnery of Tart, in the environs of Dijon, as is
clear from the autograph Letters of her son, Duke Matthew, who calls his
mother Athele ide. These Letters P. F. Chifflet refers to at the end of his four
Opuscula, ed. Paris, 1679. I do not refer to the pretended Letters of Gertrude to
Bernard, and Bernard to Gertrude, translated by Bernard Brito, from French
into Portuguese and thence into Latin.
2 Passagium, a fixed payment from travellers entering or passing through a
country; droit de passage or "toll.
LETTER CXX. 3QI
due of yours. For all these things your reward is surely
great in heaven, if, indeed, we believe that to be true
which the Lord promises in His Gospel : Inasmuch as ye
have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren ye
have done it unto me (S. Matt. xxv. 40). But why is it that
you allow your servants to take away again what you be
stow ? It seems to me that it is worthy of you and for your
honour, that when you have been pleased to bestow any
thing for the safety of your souls no one should venture
to demand it back again. If, then (which God forbid), you
do not repent of your good deed, and your general intention
in respect to us is still the same, be pleased to order it to be
a firm and unshaken rule ; that henceforward our brethren
may never fear to be disturbed in this matter by any of
vour servants. But otherwise we do not refuse to follow
our Lord s example, who did not disdain to pay the dues.
We also are ready willingly to render to Cxsar the things
that are Cxsar s (S. Matt. xvii. 26), custom to whom
custom, and tribute to whom tribute is due (Rom. xiii. 7),
especially because, according to the Apostle, we ought
not to seek our gift so much as your gain (Phil. iv. 17).
LETTER CXX.
To THE DUCHESS OF LORRAINE.
He thanks her for kindnesses shown, and deters her from
an unjust war.
I thank God for your pious goodwill which I know that
you have towards Him and His servants. For whenever
the tiniest little spark of heavenly love is kindled in a
worldly heart ennobled with earthly honours, that, without
doubt, is God s gift, not man s virtue. For our part we are
very glad to avail ourselves of the kind offers made to us of
your bounty in your letter. But having heard of the sudden
and serious stress of business, which, of course, must be de
laying you at this time, we think it meet to await your
opportunity as it shall please you. For, as far as in me lies,
39 2 LETTER CXXI.
I would not be a burden to anyone, particularly in things
pertaining to God, where we ought to seek not so much the
profit of the gift as advantage abounding to the giver. And
so, if you please, name a day and place in your answer by
this messenger, when, by God s help, having brought to an
end the business which now occupies, you will be able to
approach these regions, where our brother Wido T will
meet you, so that if he finds anything in your country
profitable for our Order you may fulfil your promise with
greater ease and speed. For God loveth a cheerful giver
(2 Cor. ix. 7). Otherwise, if perchance the delay please
you not, let me know this also : for in this matter I am
ready, as reason allows, to obey your wishes. I salute the
Duke, your husband, through your mouth, and I venture to
urge him and you both, if you know that the castle for which
you are going to war does not belong to your rightful
domain, for the love of God to let it alone. For what shall
it profit a man if he gain the -whole world and lose his own
(S. Matt. xvi. 26).
LETTER CXXI.
To THE DUCHESS OF BURGUNDY. 2
He tries to appease her anger against Hugo, and asks
her assent to a certain marriage.
The special friendship with which your Grace is pleased,
as it is supposed, to honour me, a poor monk, is so widely
known that whenever anyone thinks your Grace has him in
displeasure, he applies to me as the best medium for being
restored to your favour. Hence it is that some time ago,
when I was at Dijon, Hugo de Bese urged me with many
1 I think this is Wido [or Guy?], Abbot of Trois Fontaines, who frequently
went to Lorraine. Cf. 63, 69.
- Matilda, wife of Hugo I., Duke of Burgundy, who was cherishing her anger
against Hugo de Bese. This place was situate four leagues from Dijon, and
famous for the Monastery of that name (Bese) of the Benedictine Order. About
this Hugo see Perard, pp. 221, 222.
LETTER CXXII. 393
entreaties to appease your displeasure, which he had
deserved, and to obtain, for the love of God, and by your
kindness towards me, your assent to the marriage of his
son, which, though it did not meet with your approval, he
had irrevocably determined to make, since it was, as he
thinks, an advantage to himself. And for this reason he
has been besieging my ears, not as before, by his own
prayers, but by the lips of his friends. Now, I do not much
care about worldly advantages, but since the matter, as he
himself says, seems to have reached such a narrow pass
that he cannot prevent the marriage except by perjuring
himself, I have thought it meet to tell you this, since that
must be a serious object which should be preferred to the
good faith of a Christian man and your servant. For he
cannot be perjured and yet at the same time keep faith
with his Prince. 1 Aye, and I see not only no gain to you,
but also much danger arising, if those whom perhaps God
has determined to join together should be put asunder by
you. May the Lord grant His grace to you, most noble
lady, so dear to me in Christ, and to your children.
Behold, now is the acceptable time ; behold , now is the
.day of salvation. Spend your corn on Christ s poor, that
in eternity you may receive it with usury.
LETTER CXXII. (Circa A.I). 1130.)
HlLDEBERT, ARCHBISHOP OF TOURS, TO THE ABBOT
BERNARD. -
The reputation of Bernard for sanctity induces Hilde-
bcrt to write to him and ask for his friendship.
i. Few, I believe, are ignorant that balsam is known by
its scent, and the tree by its fruit. So, dearly beloved
1 Legalitati, i.e., good faith, which consists in performing promises once made.
2 In not a few MSS. this Letter, with the answer following, is placed after
Letter 127, and in some even after Letter 252. Hildebert, the author of this
Letter, ruled the Church of Mans (1098-1125), whence, on the death of Gilbert,
he was translated to the Metropolitan See of Tours. This is clear, first from
Ordericus Vitalis, Bk. x., sub aim., 1098, and next from the Acts of the Bishops
394 LETTER CXXII.
brother, there has reached even to me the report of you
how you are steadfast in holiness, and sound in doctrine.
For though I am far separated from you by distance of
place, yet the report has come even to me. What pleasant
nights you spend with your Rachel ; how abundant an off
spring is born to you of Leah ; how you show yourself
wholly a follower of virtue, and an enemy of the flesh.
Whoever speaks to me of you has this one tale to tell.
Such is the perfume of your name, like that of balm, poured
out ; such are already the rewards of your merit. These
are the ears that you are gathering from your field before
the last great harvest. For in this life some reward of
virtue is to be found in the notable and undying tribute
paid to it. This it wins unaided, and keeps unaided. Its
renown is not diminished by envy, nor increased by the
favour of men. As the esteem of good men cannot be
taken away by false accusations, so it cannot be won by the
attentions of flattery. It rests with the individual himself
either to advance that esteem by fruitfulness in virtue, or
to detract from it by deficiency. The whole Church, I am
quite sure, hopes that your renown will be for ever sus
tained, since it is believed to be founded upon a strong
rock.
2. As for me, having heard this report of you everywhere,
with desire I have desired to be received into the inmost
of Mans, published in the third volume of Analecta, where Guido, his successor
in the See of Mans, is said to have been consecrated, after long strife, in 1126.
Hildebert only ruled in Tours six years and as many months. So say the Acts
just mentioned. With them agrees a dissertation by Duchesne, and John
Maan s History of the Metropolitan See of Tours, and so also Ordericus Vitalis
on the year 1125 (p. 882), where he assigns to Hildebert an Archiepiscopate of
about seven years. Hildebert, then, did not reach the year 1136, as GalLia
Christiana says, but died in i [32, in which year John Maan places his death.
Horst, in the note to this Letter, refers to another Letter of Hildebert (the 24th),
which he thinks was also written to Bernard. But this Letter, which in all the
editions appears without the name of the person to whom it was addressed, is
entitled in two MSS. "To. H., Abbot of Cluny, which we have followed.
From this Letter we understand that Hildebert had it in mind to retire to Cluny,
if the Supreme Pontiff would allow him. Peter of Blois praises his Letters.
(Ep. ioj.)
LETTER CXXIII. 395
shrine of your friendship, and to be held in remembrance
in your prayers when stealing yourself from converse
with mortals you speak on behalf of mortals to the King of
Angels. Now, this my desire was much increased by
Gebuin, Archdeacon of Troyes, a man eminent as well for
his piety as for his learning. I should have thought it my
duty to commend him to you, if I were not sure that those
whom you deem worthy of your favour need no further
commendation. I wish, however, that you should know
that it was through his information I learnt that you are in
the Church, one who art fit to be a teacher of virtue, both
by precept and example. But not to burden you with too
long a letter, I bring my writing to an end, though end the
above petition I will not until I have the happiness to
obtain what I have asked. I beg you to tell me by a letter
in reply how you are disposed with regard to it.
LETTER CXXIII. (Circa A.D. 1130.)
REPLY OF THE ABBOT BERNARD TO HILDEBERT, ARCH
BISHOP OF TOURS.
He repays his praises with praises.
A good man out of the good treasure of his heart
bringeth forth good things. Your letter so redounded to
your honour, as well as to mine, that I gladly welcomed it,
Most Reverend Sir, as giving me an occasion of addressing
to you the praises of which you are so well worthy, and as
affording me just satisfaction that you have done me so
much honour as that your Highness should deign to stoop
to me, and to show so much esteem for my humble person.
Indeed, for one in high place not to be studious of
high things, but to condescend to those of low estate, is a
thing than which there is nothing more pleasing to God or
more rare among men. Who is the wise man, except he
who listens to the counsel of Wisdom, which says : The
greater thou art, the more humble thyself (Ecclus. iii. 18)
LETTER CXXIV.
before all. This humility you have shown towards me, the
greater towards the less, an elder to a younger. I, too,
could extol your proved wisdom in due praises, perhaps
more just than those of which your wisdom deemed me
worthy. It is of great importance in order to gain assured
knowledge of things, to rely on exact acquaintance with
facts, rather than on the uncertain testimony of public
rumour ; and then what we have proved for certain we may
proclaim without hesitation. What you were pleased to
write to me about myself, it is for you to ascertain. I find
an undoubted proof of your own merit in your letter,
though it be so full of my praises. For though another,
perhaps, might be pleased with the marks of learning
therein, with its sweet and graceful language, its clear
style, its easy and commendable art, I place before all this
the wonderful humility, whereby your Greatness has cared
to approach one so humble as I, to overwhelm me with
praises, and to seek for my friendship. As for what refers
to me in your letter I read it not as describing what I am,
but what I would wish to be, and what I am ashamed of not
being. Yet whatever I am, I am yours ; and if, by the
grace of God, I ever become anything better, be sure,
Most Reverend and dear Father, that I shall still remain
yours.
LETTER CXXIV. (Circa A.D. 1131.)
To THE SAME HILDEBERT, WHO HAD NOT YET ACKNOW
LEDGED THE LORD INNOCENT AS POPE.
He exhorts him to recognize Innocent, now an exile in
France, owing to the schism of Peter Leonis, as the right
ful Pontiff.
To the great prelate, most exalted in renown, HlLDE-
BERT, by the grace of God Archbishop of Tours, BER
NARD, called Abbot of Clairvaux, sends greeting, and prays
that he may walk in the Spirit, and spiritually discern all
things.
LETTER CXXIV. 397
1. To address you in the words of the prophet, Consola
tion is hid from their eyes, because death divideth between
brethren (Hosea xiii. 14, VULG.). For it seems as if ac
cording to the language of Isaiah they have made a
covenant with death, and are at agreement with hell (Is.
xxviii. 15). For behold, Innocent, that anointed 1 of the Lord,
is set for the fall and rising again of many (cf. S. Luke ii.
34). Those who are of God, gladly join themselves to
him ; but he who is of the opposite part, is either of
Antichrist, or Antichrist himself. The abomination is seen
standing in the holy place ; and that he may seize it, like a
flame he is burning the sanctuary of God. He persecutes
Innocent, and in him all innocence. Innocent, in sooth,
flees from the face of Leo, as saith the prophet : The lion
hath roared ; who will not fear (Amos iii. 8). He flees
according to the bidding of the Lord, which says, When
they persecute you in one city flee ye into another (S. Matt,
x. 23). He flees, and thereby proves himself an apostolic
man, by ennobling himself with the apostle s example. For
Paul blushed not to be let down in a basket over a wall
(Acts ix. 25), and so to escape the hands of those who
were seeking his life. He escaped not to spare his life,
but to give place unto wrath ; not to avoid death, but to
attain life. Rightly does the Church yield his place to
Innocent, whom she sees walking in the same steps.
2. However, Innocent s flight is not without fruit. He
suffers, no doubt, but is honoured in the midst of his suffer
ings. Driven from the city, he is welcomed by the world.
From the ends of the earth, men meet the fugitive with
sustenance ; although the rage of that Shimei, Gerard of
Angouleme, has not yet entirely ceased to curse David.
Whether it pleases or does not please that sinner who
sees it with discontent, he cannot prevent Innocent being
honoured in the presence of kings, and bearing a crown
of glory. Have not all princes acknowledged that he is in
truth the elect of God? The Kings of France, England,
and Spain, and finally the King of the Romans, receive
1 Christum.
LETTER CXXIV.
Innocent as Pope, and recognize him alone as bishop of
their souls (2 Sam. xvii.). Only Ahitophel is now unaware
that his counsels have been exposed and brought to nought.
In vain the wretch labours to devise evil counsel against
the people of God, and to plot against the saints who
stoutly adhere to their saintly Pontiff, scorning to bow the
knee to Baal. By no guile shall he avail to procure for his
parricide the kingdom over Israel and the holy city, which
is the church of the living God, the pillar and ground of
the truth. A threefold cord is not quickly broken (Eccle-
siastes iv. 12). The threefold cord of the choice of the
better sort, the assent of the majority, and, what is more
effective yet in these matters, the witness of a pure life,
commend Innocent to all, and establish him as chief
Pontiff.
3. And so, very Reverend Father, we await your vote,
late though it be, as rain upon a fleece of wool. We do
not disapprove of a certain slowness, for it savours of
gravity, and banishes all sign of levity. For Mary did not
at once answer the angel s salutation, but first considered
in her mind what mariner of salutation this shoiild be (S.
Luke i. 29) ; and Timothy was commanded to lay hands
suddenly on no man (i Tim. v. 22). Yet I, who am known
to the Prelate I am addressing, venture to say nought in
excess ; " I, his acquaintance and friend, say, Let not a man
think more highly of himself than he ought to tliink (Rom.
xii. 3). It is a shame, I must confess, that the old serpent,
letting silly women alone, has, with a new boldness, even
assayed the valour of your heart, and dared to shake to its
base so mighty a pillar of the Church. I trust, however,
that though shaken it is not tottering to its fall. For the
friend of the bridegroom standeth and rejoiceth at the
bridegroom s voice (S. John iii. 29) ; the voice of joy and
health, the voice of unity and peace.
LETTER CXXV. 399
LETTER CXXV. (Circa A.D. 1131.)
To MAGISTER GEOFFREY, OF LORETTO. X
He asks his assistance in maintaining the Pontificate of
Innocent against the schism of Peter Leonis.
i. We look for scent in flowers and for savour in fruits;
and so, most dearly beloved brother, attracted by the scent
of your name which is as perfume poured forth, I long to
know you also in the fruit of your work. For it is not I alone,
but even God Himself, who has need of no man, yet who,
at this crisis, needs your co-operation, if you do not act
falsely towards us. It is a glorious thing to be able to be a
fellow-worker with God ; but perilous to be able and not
to be so. Moreover, you have favour with God and man ;
you have knowledge, a spirit of freedom, a speech both
lively and effectual, seasoned with salt ; and it is not right
that with all these great gifts you should fail the bride of
Christ in such danger, for you are the friend of the Bride
groom. A friend is best tried in times of need. What
then ? Can you continue at rest while your Mother the
Church is grievously distressed ? Rest has had its proper
time, and holy peace has till now freely and duly done its
own work. It is now the time for action, because they
have destroyed the law. That beast of the Apocalypse
(Apoc. xiii. 5-7), to whom is given a mouth speaking
blasphemies, and to make war with the saints, is sitting on
the throne of Peter, like a lion ready for his prey.
Another 2 beast also stands hissing at your side, like a
whelp lurking in secret places. The fiercer here and the
craftier there are met together in one against the Lord and
his anointed. Let us, then, make haste to burst their bonds
and cast away their cords from us.
1 Gtcffrey of Loretto, a most renowned doctor, afterwards Archbishop of
Bordeaux. He took his name from Loretto, a place in the Diocese of Tours,
close to Poitou. It was once famous for a Priory, subject to Marmoutiers.
This is why Gerard of Angouleme is spoken of to Geoffrey in this Letter as " the
wild beast near you. Another derivation is L oratoire, a monastery of the
Cistercians in the Diocese of Angers.
2 Gerard of Angouleme.
400 LETTER CXXV.
2. I, for my part, together with other servants of God
who are set on fire with the Divine flame, have laboured,
with the help of God, to unite the nations and kings in one,
in order to break down the conspiracy of evil men, and to
destroy every high thing that exalts itself against the know
ledge of God. Nor have I laboured in vain. The Kings of
Germany, France, England, Scotland, Spain, and Jerusalem,
with all the clergy and people, side with and adhere to the
Lord Innocent, like sons to a father, like the members to
their head, being anxious to preserve the unity of the
spirit in the bond of peace. And the Church is right in
acknowledging him, whose reputation is discovered to be
the more honourable and whose election is found to be the
more sound and regular, having the advantage as well by
the merit as by the number of the electors. And now,
brother, why do you hold back ? How long will the serpent
by your side lull your careless energies to repose ? I know
that you are a son of peace, and can by no reason be led
to desert unity. But, of course, that alone is not enough,
unless you study both to maintain it and to make war with
all your might upon the disturbers thereof. And do not fear
the loss of peace, for you shall be rewarded by no small
increase of glory if your efforts succeed in quieting, or even
silencing, that wild beast near you ; and if the goodness of
God, through your means, rescue from the mouth of the
lion so great a prize for the Church as William, Count of
Poitiers.
LETTER CXXVI. (A.D. 1131.)
To THE BISHOPS OF AQUITAINE, AGAINST GERARD OF
ANGOULEME. 1
He nobly defends the cause of Innocent as the rightful
Pope, against Gerard of Angouleme, -who was taking part
1 Gerard was the second Bishop of Angouleme of this name, by birth a
Norman, of the Diocese of Bayeux. Ordericus calls him " a most learned man,
of great fame and influence in the Roman Senate" (Bk. xiii., A.D. 1136). This
is shown by the fact that he was Legate of the Holy See in Aquitaine during
almost the whole of the Pontificate of Paschal II. and other legitimate Popes
LETTER CXXVI. 401
with the Schismatic. He gives a picture of his character,
and exposes his subterfuges.
To his Lords and Reverend Fathers, the holy Bishops,
until Innocent. Nor was he wanting in zeal, for, if we can believe William
of Malmesbury (History of the Kings of England, Book v.), he had ths
courage to accuse William, Prince of Aquitaine, who was disregarding the laws
of marriage, as being another Herod. But John Besle contends that this was
a calumny against Count William (History o/ the Counts of Poitiers, chap. 32).
Pope Innocent having refused to Gerard the commission of Legate, he shame
fully abandoned the party of that Pope and adhered to that of Anacktus, who
granted to him the title as a bribe, and proceeded to act, not as a Legate, but
as a disperser, drawing all those whom he could influence to the party of the
schismatic. That is the reason why Bernard warns the neighbouring Bishops
of Aquitaine to disregard the voice of the seducer, and to follow Innocent, their
legitimate Pastor. He lays before them these grounds of his right, viz. :
"The high character of the person elected, the priority of his election, and the
solemnity of his consecration." Yet there were not wanting some persons who
upheld the right of Anacletus, and who brought forward arguments upon the
other side, as appears from the Letter of Peter, Bishop of Portus, the author and
defender of the consecration of this man, to William, Bishop of Praencste ; to
Matthew, Bbhop of Albano ; to Conrad, Bishop of Sabina; and to John, Bishop
of Ostia. who all followed the party of Innocent. This Letter is reported by
William of Malmesbury (His/oria Novella, Book i.) The party of Innocent,
however, prevailed ; all the chief leaders, whether ecclesiastical, except Gerard
of Angouleme, and a few others, or secular (if William, Count of Poitiers, and
Roger, King of Sicily, be excepted), taking his side. But as for Gerard, he
was obstinate in his defence of the schism, and he died unhappily in 1 136,
according to Ordericns. Ernald has related his death in the Life of S. Bernard,
Book ii., chap. 7. But it has been thought by some that this author, by too
great zeal for religion, has invented many things against Gerard, as that he
died suddenly and impenitent without confession and viaticum, and he adds
that his body was found lifeless on his bed and enormously swollen, and other
details of the same kind unworthy of a serious writer. Those who judge
thus rely upon the Gesta Episcoporum Engolismensium, in which it is said :
On the day before his death he said, in his confession to the priests, that he
had sustained the party of Peter Leonis in ignorance that it was against the
will of God ; that he repented of and confessed it. Almost all that he
possessed he gave to the Church, or distributed to the poor, when dying.
Tnat he celebrated Mass with abundant tears on the Saturday which preceded
the Sunday on which he died, which event took place in the year 1136 A.D.
He had been Bishop for more than 33 years. As he had wronged one of his
chaplains by his liberalities, he gave to each of them at the end of his episco
pate one mina as a benefaction. That man who, as a magnificent star, had
1 The mina = 100 drachmae, or one-sixtieth of a talent; and the drachma
was nearly equal to the Roman denarius, = j|d. [E.]
VOL. I. 26
402 LETTER CXXVI.
by Divine permission, of Limoges, of Poitiers, of Perigueux,
and of Saintes, Brother BERNARD, called Abbot of Clair-
vaux, sends greeting, and prays that they may be steadfast
in adversity.
i. It is during peace that bravery is acquired, in the
struggle that it is displayed, in the victory that it triumphs.
The time has come, most Reverend and honoured Fathers,
to show your courage, not to hide it, nor to let it rest
inactive. The hostile sword, which seems to threaten the
whole Church with death, hangs most of all over your
necks ; and it is you whom it threatens most eagerly and
most closely, so that you are obliged by the daily attacks
of which you are the objects, either to resist bravely or
(which may God forbid !) disgracefully to retreat. The new
Diotrephes, who loves to bear the first place 1 among you,
rejects you from his communion; he refuses to recognize
with you him whom the whole Church receives as coming
in the name of the Lord. Not him, I say, does he receive,
but the man who comes in his own name. I am not sur
prised at this, for he himself, even in his old age, strives
and pants unweariedly to attain a great name. I am not
led astray by an uncertain or false rumour in forming this
opinion of the man; I judge of him from his own words.
In a letter which he lately sent to the Chancellor of Rome,
enlightened the West with his brightness, now rests, alas ! under an obscure
stone outside the church which he built.
But as this story has no certain support, there is no reason for our rejecting
that of Ernald, and especially as Alain, of Autun, who subjected to a severe
criticism his books on the Life of S. Bernard, does not differ in this respect a
nail s breadth from Ernald.
As for Anacletus, he died miserably in 1138, on January 7, as Foulques, of
Beneventum, declares, " having occupied his see for the space of seven years,
eleven months, and twenty-two days." This agrees with the account of
William of Malmesbury, who says (Hist. Nt>v., B. i.) : "Anacletus died in the
eighth year of his assumed pontifical (as it is said), and then Pope Innocen t
began to enjoy the title of Sovereign Pontiff in a peace which nothing has
troubled up to the present time." Upon this subject consult also S. Bernard s
Letters 144, 146, 147 ; Sermon 24 in Cantica, at the beginning; and the notes
on Letter 147.
1 Primal urn. He refers to Gerard, who affected to hold a primacy, that is,
the dignity of Legate. The allusion is to 3 Ep. S. John v. 9.
LETTER CXXVI. 403
does he not supplicate, in terms as humble as they are
unworthy of him, to be entrusted with the charge 1 and
honourable title of Legate of the Holy See? Would that
he had obtained it. Perhaps if his ambition had been
gratified according to his prayers it would have been less
hurtful than it is, being frustrated. Then, indeed, it would be
hurtful to himself alone, or, at all events, to few ; but now it
breathes discord over the whole world. See what the love
of vain glory does ! The title of Legate is a heavy burden,
especially for the shoulders of the old ; who is ignorant of
that ? And yet it is a severe punishment to this extremely
aged man to live without this title for the few days that
remain to him.
2. But perhaps he will accuse me of rash judgment with
respect to him ; perhaps he will say that I venture to judge
the secret feelings of his soul on a mere suspicion which
nothing authorizes me to do. It is true I am very suspicious
on this matter; but I would ask, what man would be so
simple as to think otherwise than I have done in a case so
clear? To refer briefly to an action that was unmistakable.
He is one of the first, if not the first of all, to write to
Pope Innocent ; he applies for the title of Legate. He
does not obtain it. He is indignant, he falls away from
him ; he passes over to the party of the other, of whom he
boasts that he is the Legate. If he had not in the first
place made suit for this title, or had not afterwards accepted
it from the other, one might have been able to attribute his
double dealing to some other motive than ambition ; but,
as things stand, he has no plausible excuse to make. Let
him lay dow T n this mere empty name of Legate, for it has
no functions ; and I, for my part, will lay aside, if I can,
this opinion of him ; if not, I will at least acknowledge my
reluctant suspicion as being rash. But he will, I know, be
with difficulty persuaded to do it. He is not a man to strip
himself voluntarily of a title which has long rendered him
great among his neighbours, and without which he would
appear degraded. We see in him what Scripture calls the
1 Many editions read : " To be weighted with the charge and honoured with
the title ; but to be " weighted" is wanting in the MSS.
404 LETTER CXXVI.
false shame which leads to sin (Ecc. iv. 25). Can there be,
in fact, any worse thing, any greater offence than extreme
pride in mere dust and ashes, so that it is reluctant, I do
not say to be subjected to others, but not to rule over
others ?
3. Because of this he quitted the party of Innocent,
whom he called his holy Father, and the Holy Catholic
Church his mother, and attached himself to his schismati-
arch, with whose vain glory he has much in common.
They have made mutual alliance, and have conceived an
evil design against the people of God : Scale is joined to
scale, so that no air can come between them (Job xli. 16).
The one gives to the other the name of Pope, and the other
in return styles him his Legate ; and so they flatter each
other s vain glory. They console, support, and commend
each other in turn ; but each of them does this for his own
sake, and not for that of the other, for they are men who
love only themselves. With equal zeal they combine
against the Lord and against His Christ; but their motives
are not the same. Each one seeks to derive from the other
some personal advantage, and (which is abominable) at the
expense of Christ s heritage. Are they not attempting
under your eyes to ruin His realm, if you will permit it?
That Legate fabricates new Bishops 1 among you for the
party of his Pope, that he may not be alone ; nor does he
wait until the Sees are vacant by death, but by the aid of
the secular power tyrannically intrudes men into the places
of Bishops yet living, taking occasion from the ill-will and
relentless hatred of secular princes towards the Bishops of
their cities. He sets in secret snares with the rich, that he
may slay the innocent. By such a door he enters into the
sheepfold.
4. Do you suppose that this Legate busies himself with
such activity for the sake of his Pope only, and without any
personal interest? He has added, in order that he may
boast himself the more, France and Burgundy to the ancient
1 Thus he intruded Ramnulf, Abbot of Dorat, into the See of Lisieux. Life
of S. Bernard, B. ii. 33.
LETTER CXXVI. 405
limits of his legation ; and he may add still further, if he
pleases, the Medes, the Persians, and the people of the Deca-
polis. Wherefore should he not arrogate to himself besides
the empty name of jurisdiction over the Sarmatians, and,
in fact, over every place that his foot has pressed ? O)
man no less without modesty than without sense ; mindful
neither of the fear of God nor of his own honour ! He
thinks that he is not found out, while he is the laughing
stock and amusement of all his neighbours. And rightly
so. For he uses the sanctuary as if it were a market ; and
like a merchant seeking his gain goes here and there to the
sellers, seeking to obtain at the lowest price what he wants
to buy : so he seeks on all sides an ecclesiastical dignity,
and decides at length in favour of that Pope who has con
sented to make him his Legate. And so Rome could not
have had a Pope, unless he had found one to make him
Legate ? Whence came this privilege to you in the Church
of Christ ? Who has given you this prerogative over
Christ s heritage ? Is the sanctuary of God become your
patrimonial estate ? As long as there was any hope of
obtaining from the lord Innocent what you had the shame
less impudence to demand of him, he was to you holy
Father and Pope in your letters. Why, then, do you now
accuse him as a schismatic ? Was it the case that his
holiness, and his legitimate tenure of the Papacy, vanished
with your hopes ? It was wonderful in how short a time
bitter water and sweet proceeded from the same fount.
Yesterday Innocent was catholic, holy, Supreme Pontiff ;
to-day he is schismatic, wicked, and a troubler of the
peace ; yesterday Innocent and Pope ; to-day Gregory,
simple Deacon of S. Angelo. It is from the same mouth,
indeed, but from a double heart, that these contrary senti
ments proceed. Deceitful thoughts are in the heart, and
from the heart they have been spoken. But what can you
think of the reserve or self-respect of the man whose double
heart renders uncertain the voice of his conscience, and
with first Yes and then No makes his tongue forked ? He
ill-understands how to provide, according to the saying of
406 LETTER CXXVI.
the Apostle, things honest both before God and before
men (2 Cor. viii. 21), who being an unjust judge neither
respects nor fears God or men.
5. It is quite certain that ambition, when it extends into
impudence, defeats its own success ; and the unscrupulous
man, when he makes his object apparent, renders it unlikely
to be attained. Ambition is the mother of hypocrisy ; it
needs obscurity and shadow, and is unable to bear the
light. Ambition, the lowest placed of the vices, has always
an eye towards advancement ; but all its fear is to be
perceived. Nor is that wonderful ; for it may fail in
obtaining its end, unless it escape observation ; and the
more it pursues glory the less it can be obtained, if it is
suspected of the pursuit. What is more inglorious, especi
ally for a Bishop, than to be known for a man greedy of
titles and honours, when a Christian ought not to glory,
except in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ ? The
ambitious will be esteemed by others only as long as he
shall walk in darkness ; and the hypocrite will be able to
seem righteous and holy to the eyes which see only the
outward appearance just as long as his meddling with filthy
lucre be kept concealed. But when by impudence, or some
imprudence, he happens to show what is lurking in his
mind, does not the unmeasured love of greatness which is
shown to all eyes turn to his shame and confusion rather
than to his glory, and so, in truth, verify those words of the
Scripture : Whose glory is in their shame, who mind
earthly things (Phil. iii. 19) ; and this : If I seek my own
glory, my glory is nothing (S. John viii. 54) ; and that
imprecation of the Prophet directed, as I believe, against
hypocrites : Let them be as the grass upon the housetops,
which withereth before it is plucked up (Ps. cxxviii. 6,
VULG.). The sentiment of shame has not yet perished in
men, so that naked and shameless ambition should be
honoured even by them, especially when they meet with it
in an old man and a priest, in whom that puerile vanity is
the more unbecoming, as increased gravity and holiness are
befitting to him ; and if he is flattered to his face, he is
LETTER CXXVI. 407
turned into ridicule behind his back by all. There is an
ambition more delicate and more enlightened, 1 which pro
ceeds at least with caution, if not with pure intention ; 2 if
it succeeds in advancing its object, it takes good care to
keep its measures secret ; but if not, it still lies close, and
does not break the reserve which it imposes upon itself.
And such an ambition, if it does not fear God unto salva
tion, yet for innate modesty retains honourable feeling,
because it stands in fear of men, and blushes at public
disgrace.
6. But must not the ambition be headlong and the desire
to dominate imperious which causes a man not to spare the
repose of his old age nor the honour of his priesthood to
obtain the precarious title of Legate, which he would not be
certain of for more than a year, which makes him tear open
again the side of the Saviour, whence issued forth once
blood and water for the salvation of men, for joining them
together in the unity of faith ? But whosoever tries to
divide those whom Christ has joined together for their
salvation proves himself to be, not a Christian, but an Anti
christ, and guilty of the Cross and death of Christ. What
impatient, what unbridled desire ! what unrestrained eager
ness ! what blind and shameful ambition ! He is obliged
to confess that (as I have said) he began by making a
petition unworthy of him to the legitimate Pope ; and,
smarting at the refusal he received, he took refuge imme
diately with the schismatic, and accepted from his sacri
legious hand the longed-for dignity, thus cruelly and
shamelessly piercing the side of the Lord of Glory. For
he divides the Church, for which that Side was divided
upon the Cross. But one day he shall see Him whom he has
pierced, and the Lord shall pronounce judgments, who now
endures injuries patiently. When the day shall come that
He shall do justice to those who are oppressed, and in
terfere in equity on behalf of the meek of the earth, will
He, think you, turn away His ear from His beloved spouse
when she invokes His aid against those who have oppressed
1 Oculata. Otherwise, "secret" occulta. 2 Saltern caute, etsi noil caste.
408 LETTER CXXVI.
her ? No ! He cannot be deaf to her complaint : My
neighbours and my friends approached and stood against
me ; and those who were beside me stood afar off. Those
who sought my life used violence against me (Ps. xxxvii.
12, 13, VULG.). Why should He not recognize the bone
of His bone, the flesh of His flesh, yea, rather, the spirit of
His spirit? Is she not for Him that well-loved Spouse,
whose beauty has drawn Him here below, whose form He
has put on, whom with marvellous condescension He has
embraced with tender love, so that they two should be one
flesh, as hereafter they shall be one spirit ? For although
s/ie had known Christ according to the flesh, yet then shall
sJie know Him no more : because before her face shall be
a spirit, Christ Jesus the Lord ; and being closely united
to Him, she shall be one spirit with Him ; when death shall
be swallowed up in victory; and that which is weak in the
flesh shall overcome by the power of the Spirit ; when the
glorious Spouse of the Church shall have her in his sight
in her glory, as His dove perfect and beautiful, not having
a spot of sin, a wrinkle of corruption, or any such thing.
7. While I linger willingly upon these consoling thoughts
I have become almost unmindful of my subject, so strong
is my desire to redeem the time because the days arc evil.
The thought of more happy days transports me, but my
purpose calls me back, reminds me of the facts, and plunges
me into sorrow. The enemy of the cross of Christ (I
relate it even weeping) carries his audacity so far as to
drive from their (Episcopal) seats the holy men who
entirely refuse to bend the knee before the beast of the
Apocalypse, whose mouth opens wide with impious blas
phemies against God and against His sanctuary (Apoc.
xiii. 6). He endeavours to raise altar against altar, and is
not ashamed to confound good and evil. He endeavours
to intrude abbots into the places of abbots, Bishops into
the places of Bishops, to thrust out the Catholics, to advance
the schismatics. 1 Poor creatures, and to be pitied, who
1 Ordericus declares (Book xiii., page 825): "In most monasteries two
abbots arose, and in bishoprics two prelates strove for the chief authority : of
LETTER CXXVI. 409
consent to accept such promotion from the hands of such
a man. He traverses sea and land to make one Bishop ;
and when he has made him, he makes of him doubly the
child of hell that he is himself. What do you suppose is
the cause of such furious activity ? It is because that pre
cept announced by the angels to mortals, in which glory is
given to God and peace to men, is to him displeasing; and
while he and his party usurp the glory they trouble the
peace. He alone merits glory who alone doeth wonders,
as the Apostle says, to God alone be honour and glory
(i Tim. i. 13). As for man, he ought to think himself
happy, he ought to regard himself as being mercifully
favoured if it is permitted him to enjoy the peace of God
and peace with God ; but how can it be thus if men them
selves wish to usurp the glory of God ? Oh, foolish sons
of Adam, who, while you despise peace and desire glory,
lose them both ! It is because of this that the God of
vengeance has now 7 moved the land and divided it : He
has shewed His people heavy things. He lias given them a
drink of deadly wine.
8. Whether we will or no, the truth of the Holy Ghost
will necessarily one day be fulfilled, and that falling away
foretold by the spirit of prophecy, as we read in the
Scriptures (2 Thess. ii. 3), will take place; but \voe to the
man by whom it comes. It would be better for that man
he had not been born. But \vho is that man except the
man of sin, who, notwithstanding that a Catholic had been
elected by Catholics to the holy place, and according to
canonical rules, invaded it for himself, although he desired
it not because it was holy, but because it was the highest
place ? He invaded it, I say, by the sword, by fire, by
money, not by the merit of his life or by his virtues; he has
attained to that in which he remains, but he remains only
by the same means that he attained it. That election of
whom the one adhered to Peter (Anacletus) the other favoured Gregory
(Innocent)." So also in the Acts of the Bishops of Mans, Vol. iii., of the
Anulecta, p. 338, on the subject of Philip, the intruded Bishop of Tours, of
whom Letters 150 and 151 (of S. Bernard) speak.
410 LETTER CXXVI.
which he boasts so much was nothing but the note of a
faction, a mere pretence, the occasion and the screen of his
evil plan ; it is impudent and false to call it an election.
If there is in the Church a principle authentic and incon
testable, it is that after the first election there is no second.
Suppose that there has been one, after which a second is
made; yet it is not a second, it is simply null and void. But
even although that which preceded was conducted with too
little solemnity, and not sufficiently according to ordinary
formalities, as the enemies of unity contend, yet ought a
second election to have been resolved upon before the
manner of the former had been discussed, and it had been
quashed by a deliberate judgment ? It is that which obliges
me to say that the factious persons are those who have
hastened to lay their hands rashly upon a rash usurper,
notwithstanding the prohibition of the Apostle: Lay hands
suddenly upon no man (i Tim. v. 22). They have, with
out doubt, the greater fault ; they are the true authors of
the schism, and the chiefs of this great mischief which
has been done to the Church.
9. But now they demand judgment, which they ought to
have waited for 1 before acting. When that proposition was
made to them in fit time they rejected it ; they only do
this now in order to appear 2 to have the right on their
side if you refuse it in your turn ; and if you accept it they
hope that during the process time may be gained by delays,
and in the meantime something may happen in their favour.
Or do they despair of their cause, and are they convinced
that it can be made no worse than it is, whatever be the
issue of the process ? Whatever (they say) has been done
hitherto, now we seek a hearing; we are prepared to submit
to what may be decided. This is a trap. What else is left to
you in your wicked undertaking, what other resource have
you for seducing the simple, for arming the ill-disposed,
1 Erspectasse , otherwise expetiisse.
2 Justi, thus the old copies in most editions for injusti used in irony. But in
one MS. (Colbertine, No. 1410), reads, injusti justi vox videamini that is, "so
that you who are right may appear wrong." One MS. of Beauvaisreads simply
injusti.
LETTER CXXVI. 411
and for hiding your own guilt ? If you did not say this
what could you say? But now God has already judged
what man seeks too late to reopen ; but He has judged by
the evidence of the facts, and not by the wording of a
decree. Is it possible that human rashness would dare to
interpose an appeal from the judgment of God ? What if
God should accuse and cry by the prophet, men have taken
away from me the right of judgment? 1 No purpose can
stand against the purpose of the Lord ; His word runneth
very quickly, and draws together the peoples and the kings
into one mind, so that they serve and obey the lord Inno
cent as Pope. Who will appeal from this? It has been recog
nized and proclaimed by Walter of Ravenna, Hildegar of
Tarragona, 2 Norbert of Magdeburg, Conrad of Salzbourg,
Archbishops ; it has been accepted by Equipert of Munster,
Hildebrand of Pistoja, Bernard of Pavia, Landulf of Asti,
Hugo of Grenoble, and Bernard of Parma, 3 Bishops. The
singular merit of these prelates, their manifest sanctity,
and their authority respected even by their enemies, have
easily determined me, who hold a lower rank in merit as in
office, to follow their leading whether it be right or wrong.
I do not speak of the multitude of others, both Archbishops
and Bishops of Tuscany, Campania, Lombardy, Germany,
and Aquitaine, of France, also, and all the Spains, as well
as of the whole Church of the East, whose names are in the
Book of Life, but which the brevity of a letter cannot find
space for. 4
10. All these with one accord, not induced by money,
not led away by fallacious reasoning, not allured by con
siderations of worldly relationship, nor compelled by fear
1 This is not found in any prophet ; but in Doctriiia SS. Patrum, Book
against rash judgment, n. 7.
2 He had succeeded to Ordelric, whom. Ordericus (B. xiii. pp. 891, 892) calls
!; a very learned old man.
3 Bernard of Parma, in certain MSS. is placed after Bernard of Pavia, and in
others, particularly in the two Colbertine MSS., his name is wanting altogether.
Ughellus says that he died towards the end of the Pontificate of Paschal II.
4 These words, " but which the brevity of a letter cannot find space for," are
wanting in two of the Colbertine A1SS., but are found in the third.
412 LETTER CXXVI.
of the secular power, but submitting themselves to the will
of God which they cannot doubt has been made plain, have
frankly rejected Peter Leonis, and recognized Gregory for
Pope, under the name of Innocent. Of the prelates of our
province, not one, indeed, is mentioned by name in this
letter ; because I could not name them all, and the special
mention of some of them would appear to be a kind of
adulation. But I ought not to pass over those holy men,
who, though dead to the world, live a better life in God ;
their life is hid with Christ in glory, is consecrated en
tirely to the knowledge of the w r ill of God, and to the
endeavour to please Him. Of these, then, the Camaldulian 1
Religious, those of Vallombrosa, those of the Chartreuse,
the Cluniacs, 2 those of Marmoutiers, 3 my own brethren in
religion the Cistercians, those of S. Stephen of Caen, 4 of
1 Most of the old MSS. have the name thus, but some have it CamaudUlienses.
The Camaldulian rnonks and those of Vallombrosa are two Congregations of
the Order of S. Benedict in Italy, and are too well known for it to be needful to
say anything about them here (Mabillon s note). The Order was founded by S.
Romuald, a noble of Ravenna, who retired in the later part of the eleventh
century to Camaldoli, near Arezzo, in the Appennines, and commenced a
hermit s life. It has two divisions, the hermits, who are solitaries, and monks
who live in community. The habit is a white cassock, scapular, and hooded
robe. The Vallombrosan Order is a branch of the Benedictines of Cluny, and
was founded, also in the eleventh century, by S. John Gualbert, a Florentine. It
was confirmed in 1055 by Pope Victor II. The habit is of a very dark grey,
almost black. [E.]
2 A contemporary author, Ordericus, has described the manner in which the
monks of Cluny received Pope Innocent (B. xiii. p. 895) : "On learning the
arrival of Innocent, the monks of Cluny sent to him sixty horses or mules with
all trappings fit for the Pope and the Cardinals, and brought him to their house
with great respect. There they entertained the Pope and his followers for eleven
days, and caused him to consecrate a new Church in honour of S. Peter, chief
of the Apostles, with great solemnity and attendance of the people. Thence he
obtained great influence through all the West because he had been placed before
Peter [Leonis] by the monks of Cluny. Yet Peter Leonis had been brought up
by them, and was a monk of theirs by habit and profession. 1
3 Marmoutiers was an important monastery near the city of Tours, over which
then presided Abbot Odo, to whom Letter 307 is addressed. Upon this
monastery depended many priories, which formed, as it were, a congregation.
But Bernard here mentions only the more important monasteries.
4 Caen is a town on the river Orne, in Neustria or Normandy, not far from
the ocean. This abbey was founded and magnificently endowed by William
LETTER CXXVI. 413
Tiron, 1 of Savigny, 2 in one word, the unanimous consent of
the brethren, as well secular clergy as monks, of strict
life and approved conduct, following their Bishops as
flocks follow their pastors, firmly adhere to Innocent,
zealously defend him, humbly obey him, and recognize him
faithfully as a true successor of the Apostles.
ii. What of the kings and princes of the earth? Do
they not receive Innocent in the same disposition, with the
peoples who are subject to them, and confess him to be
Pope, and the Bishop of their souls ? What man is there
of good family or of distinguished rank who does not think
the same thing? And yet those people still protest with
quarrelsome importunity and importunate argument. They
make their accusation against the whole world, and, not
withstanding their small number, endeavour to dictate to
the whole of Christendom, and to oblige it to confirm by a
second judgment an election 3 which has been already judged
and condemned ; they began by improper precipitation,
and now wish to reopen the whole question. But, after
all, what means have they of assembling the chiefs of each
order [secular and ecclesiastical], I do not say of the
faithful simply, so as to submit the controversy to their
judgment? Who would be mighty enough to persuade so
many thousands of holy men to pull down again what they
had before built up, and to lend themselves to a deception ?
Then where could a place be found safe and spacious
enough for all ? For this is a business which belongs to the
whole Church, not the private cause of one person. You
see, then, that you \_i.e., the opponents] are demanding a
the Conqueror. Its first Abbot was Lanfranc, Prior of Bee, and afterwards
Archbishop ot Canterbury.
1 The monks of Tiron-le-Gardais in Le Perche, the Diocese of Chartres, were
instituted by the venerable Abbot Bernard, whose Life is extant with notes by
Souchet. James de Vitry praises the devotion of the monks of Tiron in his
History of the West, c. 20. This monastery, with that of Marmoutiers,
flourished under the Benedictine Congregation of S. Maur.
2 Savigny. There are two monasteries of this name in France, the one in
the Diocese of Lyons, the other in that of Avranches, of which latter Bernard
must be understood to speak here. It was founded in 1112 by the most pious
Abbot Vitalis. 3 I.e., that of Peter Leonis.
414 LETTER CXXVI.
thing which is impracticable, only to bring a false accusa
tion against your Mother Church ; or rather you are digging
a pit for yourselves into which you shall be thrown ; you
are weaving a snare in which you shall be taken and held,
nor shall you return into the bosom of your Mother. A
pretext will never be wanting to him who wishes to break
faith with his friend.
12. But let it be so. Suppose that God should change
His mind (I speak after the manner of men), should recall
His decree, should assemble a Council from the ends of the
earth, should allow the matter which He has judged to be
submitted for a second judgment, which is not the way in
which God acts, whom, I ask, will they give to Him for
judges ? All have taken their side in this matter, and it
will be very difficult to agree upon a judgment; so that so
great an assemblage of men will have the weariness to
assemble for disagreement rather than for peace. And,
finally, I would be glad to know into whose hands that
schismatic would consent to trust the city of Rome, which
he desired so eagerly and for so long a time, which he
gained with so much trouble and at so great a cost, which
he possesses with such pride, and which he fears to lose
w r ith so great shame, lest the whole world should be seen
to have come together to no purpose, if when he loses his
cause he does not at the same time lose Rome; otherwise
why should he who has been despoiled enter upon the
cause ? Neither the civil law nor the Canons oblige him
to do so. And this I say, not that I have any doubt of the
justice of our cause, but because I distrust the cunning of
our adversaries. God has already manifested His justice
as clearly as the light and His judgment as the noon-day,
although to him who is blind neither does the light appear,
nor does the blaze of noon-day enlighten ; to him light and
darkness are the same.
13. The question is, then, of ascertaining whether of
these two claimants is the rightful Pope. As for that
which relates to them personally, that I may not seem either
to flatter or to detract from either one or the other, I will
LETTER CXXVI. 415
say nothing except that which is spoken everywhere, and
which, I suppose, everyone believes, namely, that the life
and character of our Pope Innocent are above any attack
even of his rival ; while that of the other is not safe even
from his friends. In the second place, if you compare the
two elections, that of our candidate at once has the advan
tage over the other as being both purer in motive, more
regular in form, and earlier in time. The last point is
out of all doubt ; the other two are proved by the merit
and the dignity of the electors. You will find, if I do not
mistake, that this election was made by the more discreet
part of those to whom the election of the supreme Pontiff
belongs. There were Cardinals, Bishops, Deacons, or
Presbyters, and these in sufficient number, according to
the decrees of the Fathers, to make a valid election. Then,
as to the Consecration of the person elected, was it not
performed by the Bishop of Ostia, to whom that function
specially belongs ? Since, then, both the person elected is
maintained to be the more worthy and the election more
discreetly conducted, and the formalities more regularly
complied with in performing it; upon what pretext, or
rather by what spirit of contention, do they try against
right and justice and the voices of all good men to depose
him, and to set another Pope over the reluctant and pro
testing Church ?
14. You see, most reverend and illustrious Fathers, under
what obligation you are to oppose with all your powers
this attempt so malicious, so unworthy, and so rash. It is
becoming to the whole Church, but most of all to you and
yours, that zeal for the House of God should consume your
souls. It is your duty, I say, and that of your flocks to
watch and pray, that you enter not into temptation. The
more boldly the adversary presses on, and the greater is
the stress of battle, in that place is there surely the greater
need for bravery and caution. How cruel and how cunning
is the foe who has risen against you, you know, I am sure,
by your own experience. Alas ! what ravages has he not
already committed in your neighbourhood, having recourse
416 LETTER CXXVII.
in turn to force and to cunning, the constant arms of his
malignity ! But shall his malice prevail over your wisdom ?
No doubt this is his hour, and the power of darkness ; but
the hour is his last, and his power soon passes away. Be
not afraid, nor permit yourselves to be draw r n away. Christ,
the power of God and the wisdom of God, is with you ; it
is His own cause. Trust in Him ; He has overcome the
world ; He is faithful, and will not permit you to be
tempted above that ye are able. Though the deluded man
appears solidly established, without doubt you will soon
see his fair show of prosperity overcast by general rejec
tion ; nor will the Lord leave the rod of sinners long over
the lot of the righteous. But, in the meantime, it is com
mitted to your vigilance to provide with the care and
solicitude that becomes your office, that the good people
of your dioceses should not stretch out their hands towards
this wickedness.
Prayer for Catholics :
Do good, O Lord, iinto those that are good and true of
heart (Ps. cxxv. 4) ; and for the schismatics : Make their
faces ashamed, O Lord, that they may seek Thy na?ne (Ps.
Ixxxiii. 17).
LETTER CXXVII. (Circa A.D. 1132.)
To WILLIAM, COUNT OF PoiTou 1 AND DUKE OF AQUI-
TAINE, IN THE NAME OF HUGH, DUKE OF BURGUNDY.
William was of the party of the Antipope Anacletus ;
Bernard urges him to abandon it, and to range himself on
t/ie side of Innocent.
To WILLIAM, by the grace of God, the illustrious Count of
Poitou and Duke of Aquitaine, HUGH, by the same grace,
1 He was the ninth of this name, or, as some think, the tenth, and, by the in
fluence of Gerard, Bishop of Angouleme, he took the side of Anacletus, and per
secuted the adherents of Innocent (Of. Life of S. Bernard, lib. ii. c. 6). What
William of Malmesbury (de reg. Aug. lib. v.) says about the incest and other
crimes of \\illiam, Count of Poitou, must be understood of this man s father,
William VIII., as John Besle has pointed out. For Peter, Bishop of Poictiers,
LETTER CXXVII.
417
Duke of Burgundy, sends greeting, bidding him fear Him
who is terrible, and who takes away the spirit of princes.
i. I can no longer hold my peace about your mistaken
line of action, though you are my near kinsman and dear
friend. If any of the people perishes he perishes alone ;
but the error of a prince involves many, and ruins as many
souls as he rules over. Nor are we raised on high, as vou
know, to destroy our subjects, but to govern them. He by
whom kings reign, has put us over our subjects to protect
them, not to overthrow them ; we are the Church s keepers,
not her masters. But since you are known to have dis
charged that function laudably, and in a way befitting the
greatness of your power, on other occasions, I can but
wonder by what craft you have been induced to desert your
mother and mistress in the time of her dire need, unless,
indeed, those counsellors of yours have succeeded in per
suading you that the whole Church has been led to recog
nize Peter Leonis. They are lying men whom, with Anti
christ their head, the Truth shall destroy with the breath of
His mouth. By the mouth of David He tells us that His
Church is spread abroad to all the ends of the earth, and to
all the nations of the Gentiles.
2. They have, it is true, the Duke of Apulia 1 on their side;
who was banished by the Count, he says, ended his days in exile A.D. 1117. But
William IX. succeeded his father A.D. 1126, as the same author says in his
French History of the Counts of Poitou. Cf. also Baronius (A.D. 113;) if more
information about his life and all that he did is wanted. He is dealt with at
length in Vita Bernurdi (lib. ii. c. 6). Much, however, that is said of him is
fabulous. He was converted by S. Bernard. It is certain, on the authority of
Ordericus, his contemporary, who is supported by other influential writers, that
William, moved to penitence, set out on a pilgrimage to the shrine of S. James
(Compostella), when he was taken ill, " and died on the sixth day of the Passion,
April gth, before the altar of the Blessed Apostle, after being fortified by Holy
Communion," about the year i 137.
1 The Antipope Anacletus, to gain the support of Roger, Duke of Apulia and
Calabria, honoured him with the title of King of Sicily (Baronius A.D. 1 130, No.
0). Innocent, however, afterwards, having been overcome by him in battle, and
having been taken prisoner, confirmed the title as the price of his freedom. How
much better would it have been had the Pontiff maintained his rights by the
agency of others, if there really was need to take up arms, instead of going him
self to war and being forced to accept disadvantageous conditions. Cf. Baronius
(A.D. 1 139, vol. xii.).
VOL. I. 27
418 LETTER CXXVIII.
but they have no other supporter of any power, and him
they secured by the ridiculous bribe of a usurper s crown.
I ask you, what goodness, or virtue, or honour do they
bring forward on the part of their Pope that we should
favour him ? If what is commonly said of him be true, he
is not fit to have the government of a single hamlet ; if it is
not true, it none the less is fitting that the head of the
Church should be of good repute as well as of blameless life.
Therefore, it is safer for you, my dear kinsman, when you
acknowledge any one as universal Pope, not to depart from
the common mind and agreement of the universal Church,
and to receive him that the whole monastic order and all the
kings have acknowledged ; it is also more to your honour
and more expedient to your salvation to receive Innocent
as Pope. He appeals to his blameless life, his unblemished
character, and his canonical election. His enemies have
not a word to say against the two first of these ; the third
was indeed found fault with, but the unprincipled men who
did so have been lately caught in their falsehood by the
most Christian Emperor Lothaire.
LETTER CXXVIII. (A.D. 1132.)
To THE SAME.
Bernard exhorts him gravely to restore to their Churches
the Clerks whom he had deprived.
I recollect, most excellent Prince, that I not long ago left
you, wishing well with all my heart to you and yours, and
ready to lend, whenever I might have an opportunity, all
the help that I could to promote your honour and your
salvation. These friendly feelings were inspired by my
not having returned deprived of the object of my visit to
you ; by my return, contrary to the expectation of many,
bearing a message of peace to the Church, with the rejoic-
ino- of the whole earth. But now I cannot imagine with
O ...
what intent, or by whose advice, that happy disposition
LETTER CXXIX. 419
in you which the right hand of the Most High had so sud
denly worked for the better, has now so suddenly altered
for the worse. Why should you expel again from your
territories, to the great injury of the Church, the clergy of
S. Hilary ? Why should you call down upon yourself the
wrath of God more heavily than before ? Who has be
witched you to depart so soon from the way of truth and
safety ? Surely he will bear his judgment whoever he may
be. / would that they were even cut off that trouble you
(Gal. v. 12). Return, I implore you, return to a better
disposition, lest you, too, be cut off, which God forbid.
Retrace your steps ; recall the love of your friends, suffer
the clergy to return, before you irrecoverably bring upon
yourself a terrible foe, Him who takes away the spirit of
princes, and is terrible among the kings of the earth.
LETTER CXXIX. (A.D. 1133.)
To THE CITIZENS OF GENOA.
He exhorts them to preserve with all possible care the
peace that he had re-established among them.
To the consuls, magistrates, and people of Genoa, health,
peace, and eternal life.
i. That my visit to you last year was not fruitless, the
Church who sent me soon afterwards experienced in her
time of need. You received me honourably, and even
thought my stay with you was all too short ; this was, in
deed, conduct worthy on your part, but quite beyond my
humble deserving. At all events, I am neither forgetful of
it, nor ungrateful to you. May God, who has the power,
and whose cause it was, repay to you your goodness !
But how can I recompense you for the honour you showed
me, except by an affectionate service full of love and grati
tude ? Not that I take pleasure in favour shown to me,
but I rejoice to see your devotion. What joyous days
were those ; but alas ! only too few. Never will I forget
420 LETTER CXXIX.
thee, 1 devoted people, honourable nation, illustrious state.
At evening, and at morning, and at noon-day did I relate
my news and announce my tidings, and I found that the
hearers had as much charity as eagerness to hear. We
took back the word of peace, and when we had found the
sons of peace our peace rested upon them. I had gone out
to sow seed, not mine, but God s ; and it fell on good
ground and brought forth fruit a hundredfold and imme
diately. Wonderful was the rapidity, for great was the
necessity. I met w r ith no delay or difficulty ; in one day I
sowed and reaped and brought back rejoicing sheaves of
peace. This was the harvest that I gathered in. To those
in exile, in captivity, in chains, and in prison, I took a joy
ous hope of freedom and return to their native land, to the
enemy I brought fear, to schismatics confusion, to the
Church glory, to the world gladness.
2. And now what remains for me, dearly beloved, but to
exhort you to perseverance, which alone wins for man
glory, and for his virtues the crown of victory ? Without
perseverance the soldier does not obtain victory, nor the
victor his crown. It lends vigour to the will and perfects
all virtues, it is the nurse to merit and the mediator between
the battle and the prize. Perseverance is sister to patience,
the daughter of constancy, the bosom-friend of peace, the
cementer of friendships, the bond of harmony, the bulwark
of holiness. Take away perseverance, and obedience loses
1 The men of Genoa made trial of this in the year 1625. When Charles
Emmanuel, Duke of Savoy, came up to lay siege to their city, they called on
Bernard to redeem his pledge, and vowed as follows : We promise to enrol S.
Bernard among the tutelary Saints of our State for he engaged in a Letter to us
that he would never forget us. We engage to have his day observed as a feast
day ; to erect a chapel dedicated to him in our Cathedral or some other Church ;
yearly to go in procession, both clergy and laity, and solemnize the sacred rites
at his altar, with the consent of the most illustrious Archbishop, and most
reverend Bishops, and at which we will piously assist ; lastly, we promise to pay
this year and every year for the future by the hand of the Duke, a hundred pounds
with each of twelve maidens, as their dowry. In testimony whereof, etc. Given
at the Cathedral Church, on Sunday, 2-;th April, 1625." This was when ruin was
staring the citizens of Genoa in the face. The issue proved the worth of their
vow. For on the eve of this Festival, Bernard quickly put their enemy to flight,
by causing the appearance of the Spanish fleet. Thus writes Manrique.
[Mabillon s note.]
LETTER CXXIX. 421
its reward, well-doing its grace, and fortitude its praise. It
is not he who has begun, but he that has persevered unto
the end that shall be saved (S. Matt. xxiv. 13). Saul when
he was little in his own sight was made King over Israel,
but not persevering in humility he lost both his kingdom
and his life. If the caution of Samson and the devotion of
Solomon had been persevered in, the one would not have
been deprived of his strength, nor the other of his wisdom.
I exhort and beseech you to hold fast firmly to this gift of
perseverance, the highest mark of honour, the one trusty
guardian of integrity. Keep carefully what you have heard
joyfully. Remember the words that are written of Herod :
that he feared John and heard him gladly (S. Mark vi. 20).
Well would it have been for him if he had been as ready
to act as to listen. It is not they that hear merely who are
called blessed, but they that hear the Word of God and
keep it (S. Luke xi. 28).
3. Keep, therefore, peace between yourselves and your
brethren at Pisa ; keep your fidelity to the Pope, your
loyalty to the King; guard your own honour. This is
expedient, this is befitting, and this is demanded by justice.
I have heard that some messengers of King Roger have
come to you ; I know not their object, nor their success.
But I must confess with the poet that / fear the Greeks,
even when they bring gifts (VERG., ^En. ii. 49). If anyone
among you is caught (which God forbid) in the disgraceful
act of stretching out his hand for filthy lucre, note him
straightway, judge him to be an enemy to your name, a
betrayer of his fellow-citizens, and a traitor to the common
good and honour. If, again, you find any whisperer among
the people assuming the devil s occupation of sowing dis
cords, and trying to disturb the existing peace, as he is ever
the author and lover of division, then visit such a dangerous
fellow the more quickly with severe judgment; such a
disease is the most deadly, because the most inward. A
hostile army lays waste the fields and burns your houses,
but evil communications corrupt good manners, and a little
leaven permeates the whole lump. Sow, plant, and exert
yourselves not only not to commit your former misdoings
422 LETTER CXXIX.
again, but even by works of righteousness to atone for them
and blot them out. It is written, as you know : The re
demption of a man s soul is his riches (Prov. xv. 6), and
again, Give alms and all things are clean to you (S. Luke
xi. 41). But if you determine to go to war, and, again,
bravely and strenuously to try your strength, to make test
of your arms, I, for my part, think that you ought not to
proceed against your neighbours and friends ; it would be
more fitting for you to subdue the enemies of the Church
and defend your crown that has been assailed by the
Sicilians. From them, at all events, it will be more
honourable for you to take possessions, and more just
to keep them when taken. May the God of love and peace
remain with you all always. Amen.
LETTER CXXX. (A.D. 1133.)
To THE CITIZENS OF PISA.
He praises their zeal for, and devotedness to, Pope
Innocent, whom the Antipope Anacletus had forced
to leave Rome, and who had taken refuge at Pisa.
To his friends, the consuls, councillors, and citizens of
Pisa, BERNARD, called Abbot of Clairvaux, wishes salvation,
peace, and everlasting life.
May God bless you, and remember the faithful service
and pious compassion and consolation and reverence which
you have shown, and still do show, towards the Bride of His
Son in her evil time and in the days of her affliction. And,
indeed, all this is partly fulfilled, and already there is some
answer to this prayer. Conduct that deserves a reward has
already met with rapid recompense. Now r , God is dealing
with you according to your merits, O people, \vhom He has
chosen to Him to be His inheritance, a people wholly
acceptable, given to good works. Pisa is put in the place
of Rome, and out of all the cities in the world is chosen to
be the home of the Apostolic See. Nor has this happened
by chance or by man s counsel, but by Divine providence
and the good favour of God, who loves them that love
LETTER CXXXI. 423
Him, and who has said to Innocent His anointed : " Live at
Pisa, and in blessing I will bless thee. Here will I dwell,
for I have chosen this city." It is because of My support
that the constancy of Pisa does not yield to the malice of
the Sicilian tyrant; that she is not moved by bribes, nor
terrified by threats, nor deceived by stratagems. O, men
of Pisa, men of Pisa, God has clone to you great things, and
made us to rejoice. What state is there that does not envy
vou ? Guard well, O, faithful city, the treasure entrusted
to you, acknowledge the grace of God, study to be found
not ungrateful for the honour bestowed on you. Show all
the honour you can to your Father, and the Father of all,
and to the princes of this world, and the judges of the
earth who are with you ; their presence makes you
illustrious, glorious, famous. But if you know not the day
of your visitation, city renowned above all others, then
shall you be the last of all cities. I have said enough to
wise men. I commend to you the Marquis Engelbert, 1 who
has been sent to help the Pope and his friends. He is a
brave and energetic young man, and, if I mistake not,
faithful. Let my request win him your favour, especially as
I have specially commended you to him, and advised him to
pay great deference to your wishes.
LETTER CXXXI. (A.D. 1135.)
To THE INHABITANTS OF MILAN.
The inhabitants of Milan, who had been reconciled to
Pope Innocent, seemed to be wavering in fidelity to him.
Bernard exhorts them to remain faithful, and reminds
i Who is tliis Marquis ? 1 think that it is he that, in the life of S. Norbert
(c. 32), is called the brother of the Bishop of Ratisbon. Of this Engelbert one
daughter was betrothed to Count Theobald. This is the passage: " And so
the ambassadors of Count Theobald having been chosen, Norbert took them to
Ratisbon. The Bishop of Ratisbon was of noble birth, and had a most
powerful friend in his brother, Count Engelbert, who had daughters of marriage
able age, one of whom was taken and betrothed to Count Theobald. Then the
ambassadors returned to announce," etc. Her name was Matilda (Order. Vit.,
lit), xiii.). Engelbert or Inglebert was also Duke of Carinthia and Marquis of
Friuli. Cf. note to Ep. 299.
424 LETTER CXXXI.
them of the recent benefits conferred upon them by the
Roman See.
To his friends, all the clergy and laity of Milan, BER
NARD, called Abbot of Clairvaux, sends greeting in the
Lord.
1. God is dealing well with you; the Roman Church is
treating you well. One acts as a Father, the other as a
mother. And, as a matter of fact, what has not been done
that should have been done ? You asked that honourable
persons should be sent you from the Curia, to God s
glory and your own honour, and it has been done. 1 You
asked that your unanimous decision about the election of
your venerable father 2 should be confirmed, and that has
been done. You wished for what is forbidden by the
sacred canons to be done, except under great necessity, to
be made lawful in your case, viz., for a bishopric to be
raised to an archbishopric, and that, too, has been granted
you. You asked that your fellow-citizens should be rescued
from the hands of the men of Placentia, a thing which I
neither can nor will pass by, and this has been done. I ask
you, lastly, what reasonable request that the daughter has
made has the loving mother refused or even postponed for
a time ? To sum up all, you will shortly have the pallium,
the fulness of honour. But now listen to me, illustrious
people, noble race, famous state. Listen, I say (and I speak
the truth ; I lie not), to one who loves you, who is zealous
for your good. The Roman Church is very mild, but she
is none the less powerful. Faithful is the saying and
worthy of all acceptation, that he who does not wish to be
crushed by her power must not abuse her kindness.
2. But someone will say, " Yes, I will pay her the rever
ence that is her due, but not a whit more." By all means
1 Guido of Pisa, Matthew of Alba, and Geoffrey, Bishop of Chartres, were
sent with Bernard (Life, lib. ii. n. 9) to reconcile the inhabitants of Milan to the
Roman Church. They had stirred up a schism because of the deposition of
Archbishop Anselm, who had been elected by them.
2 i.e., Ribault, who had been chosen by them for Bishop after the deposition
of Anselm.
LETTER CXXXI. 425
do so, for if you give her the reverence she deserves, you
give her all, for fulness of power over all the churches of
the world has been given to the Apostolic See as her special
prerogative. He, therefore, who resisteth the power re-
sisteth the ordinance of God. She can, if she see fit,
appoint bishops where before there were none. Where
they exist she can degrade some, exalt others, as reason
bids her, so that she can make bishops into archbishops and
vice versa, where she sees necessity. From the ends of
the earth she can summon the most exalted ecclesiastics
and compel them to appear before her, not merely once or
twice, but as often as she sees fit. Moreover, it is in her
power to punish all disobedience, if by chance anyone
should endeavour to resist her. This, too, you yourselves
have found to your cost. What good did your last rebel
lion do you, 1 and the disobedience \vhich your false prophets
wickedly enticed you into ? What fruit had you in those
things whereof ye are now ashamed ? See what loss of
power, glory, and honour you suffered in the persons of
your suffragans. 2 Who was able to stand up for you and
withstand the just severity of the Apostolic authority,
1 He is speaking of the rebellion in which, following Ansel m of Pusterla, their
Archbishop, the Milanese took the side of Conrad against the lawful Emperor
Lothaire. Sigonius relates the matter (del Reg. Ital. lib xi. A.D. 1128). He
says : " Conrad, supported by several princes, claimed the throne against
Lothaire. Then, elated by temporary good-fortune, he hastened with an army
into Italy, and having made Archbishop Anselm and the Milanese his friends,
he received the crown of the kingdom at Monza, over-ran Lombardy, and drew
to his side most of the States. For this the Archbishops of Mentz, Magdeburg,
and Troves, by the command of Lothaire, excommunicated him. Honorius,
however, punished not only Conrad but also Anselm, who had crowned him,
and the people who had received him. Cf. Otto of Frisingen (Chron., lib. vii.
c.i 7).
2 By following Archbishop Anselm and supporting Anacletus and Conrad.
The dignity was restored to them on their repentance. And S. Bernard must be
understood to have spoken of this restoration above when he said that the
bishopric had been exalted into an archbishopric out of grace to the Milanese.
For this see enjoyed Metropolitan dignity from the beginning. We must
not omit what Sigonius relates (del Regn. Ital., lib. xi. A.D. 1133): "Innocent
having been twice received courteously and honourably by the Genoese rewarded
them by exempting their Bishop from the jurisdiction of the Archbishop of Milan,
and by placing under him one half of the Bishops of Corsica.
426 LETTER CXXXI.
when, provoked by your audacity, it determined to cut off
your members, and strip you of your old and illustrious
honours ? And you would at this moment be a hideous
and headless mass if mercy rather than power had not been
directed towards you. Who will have power to forbid
greater disasters still if, which God forbid, you again pro
voke them ? See, then, that you do not again fall away, for
know for a certainty that you w r ill not so easily find a
remedy a second time. If anyone should say to you that in
part you should obey and in part refuse to obey, although
you have felt the full weight of the Apostolic power and
the completeness of its authority, then I ask whether such
a man has not either been deceived or wishes to deceive.
But do what I bid you, for I am not leading you astray.
Give yourselves rather to humility and to meekness, know
ing that God giveth grace to the lowly, and that the meek
shall inherit the earth. Be careful to keep the good will of
your mistress and mother now that you have regained it.
Study so to please her for the future, that she may be
pleased, not only to keep safely for you what she has
restored, but also to add what she has not yet given.
LETTER CXXXII. (A.D. 1132.)
To THE CLERGY OF MILAN.
He congratulates the Milanese clergy, by whose endea
vours the State had abandoned the Antipope Anacletus
and returned to the unity of the Church.
Blessed be ye of the Lord, for by your zeal and diligence
your state has been set free from error, has abjured its
schism, and returned to Catholic unity. The news of it
has spread amongst Catholics ; Sion has heard of it and
rejoiced, and you are glorified before God and the people.
How joyfully does your Mother, the Church, welcome back
such a number of worthy sons, whom she was grieving for
as lost ! With how joyous and serene countenance does
LETTER CXXXII. 427
God, the Father, receive this sacrifice at your hands ! Do
now, as sons of peace, what you propose to do for the
peace of the earth. And I, brethren, longing to become a
sharer and companion of your joy, am coming, according
to your request, with our beloved brethren, your messengers.
Concerning the things you wrote to me of, I will more fully
satisfy you according to reason if it be the good pleasure
of God. But since I shall soon be setting out to the
Council, I hope it will be no burden to you to postpone
them till my return.
LETTER CXXXIII. (A.D. 1134.)
To ALL THE CITIZENS OF MILAN.
Bernard had been invited to negotiate for peace on their
behalf, and gladly accepts the invitation.
I gather from your letter that you have some slight
amount of regard for me. And since I cannot find that I
deserve it, I believe it to be by the gift of God. I am far
from declining the goodwill of a powerful and famous
people. I welcome your kindness towards me, and with
open arms receive devotedly the devotedness of your
renowned State; especially now that you have abjured the
error of the schismatics, and returned to the bosom of your
Mother Church with the rejoicing of the whole world.
Nevertheless, I think that not only to me is it a cause of
rejoicing that I am invited to strive to make peace, and that
I, a poor and unknown personage, am chosen by a most
illustrious city to be its mediator and minister; but I think
that it is also an honour to you to be desirous of peace and
agreement with your neighbours, when the hostile attack
of many States, as is well known to the world, has been
powerless to force you to yield for a moment. And so
being now hastening to the Council I shall hope to return
by way of you, and make trial of your alleged goodwill.
May He who giveth the goodwill cause that it be not in vain
to me.
428 LETTER CXXXIV.
LETTER CXXXIV. (A.D. 1134.)
To SOME NOVICES RECENTLY CONVERTED AT MILAN. 1
Bernard congratulates these Milanese novices on their
conversion, and promises to visit them on his return from
the Council.
To his beloved brethren at Milan lately converted to
God, BERNARD, called Abbot of Clairvaux, sends greeting,
and prays that they may worthily carry out in the spirit
of counsel and strength what they have well begun.
Blessed be God who hath made the world s glory to be
of none account in your eyes that He might bestow upon
you His own. How full of vanity are the children of men,
how deceitful are they upon the weights, for, according to
the saying of the Gospel, they receive honour one of
another, and seek not the honour that cometh from God
alone (S. John v. 44) ; surely in this they all are alike
deceitful from vanity. But with you it is not so. From
this reproach God s mercy has set you free, to make you a
sweet odour to God in every place, to be to His glory, to
be a cause of rejoicing to the angels, and an example to men.
1 From this title Baronius infers that before the arrival of Bernard at Milan,
i.e., before A.D. 1134, a community of Cistercians had removed thither, and
had founded a monastery, to which these novices had submitted themselves.
But Ughellus (lial. Sacr., Vol. iv.) thinks that Chara-vallis was the first house
of Cistercians at Milan, and he proves it to have been founded about two miles
outside the city not earlier than A.D. 1 135, and that, therefore, under the name of
" novices " in this epistle we must understand those who had been recently con
verted by the influence of S. Bernard on his way to the Council of Pisa, and
who had devoted themselves already to him in mind. The date given by
Ughellus for the founding of the monastery is proved from the original
inscription and from the first charters of the place, in which it is uniformly
called Chara-vallis and not Clara-vallis. See Ep. 281. On the name of this
monastery of Chara-vallis Mabillon, in his work entitled " Museum Italicum,"
writes in the first part (p. 18, 8): " For the reading Chara-vallis we have
some original deeds of the place, and also an ancient inscription cut on the
cloister-wall as follows: In the year of grace 1135, on the 22nd of January,
this monastery was built by S. Bernard, of Clairvaux; in the year 1221 this
church was consecrated by Henry, Archbishop of Milan, on the 2nd May, in
honour of S. Mary of Chara-vallis. "
LETTER CXXXV. 429
If, indeed, there is joy in heaven over one sinner that
repenteth, how much more over so many and over such
men as you, and especially over those who belong to such
a city as yours. And I, brethren, induced by my great joy,
and also invited by you, sent you word by my dear brothers,
Otto and Ambrose, whom you sent to me with your invi
tation, of my decision to come with them. But on second
thoughts, thinking it better not to see you for a few brief
moments, nor merely in passing, I postponed my visit till
my return. I am now going to the Council, but by God s
help I will return by your way, and afford your holy purpose
such counsel and help as reason shall enable me.
LETTER CXXXV. (Circa A.D. 1135.)
To PETER, BISHOP OF PAVIA. l
Bernard attributes to God the praises lavished upon
himself, but congratulates the Bishop on his works of
mercy.
If o-Qod seed, sown in o-ood soil, seems to have brought
O O O
forth fruit, His is the glory who gave the seed to the sower,
fertility to the soil, increase to the seed. What have we to
do with these ? I certainly will not give Christ s glory to
another, much less will I claim it for myself. Surely it is
the law of the Lord that converteth the soul (Ps. xix. 7)
and not I ; it is the testimony of the Lord that is sure and
giveth wisdom unto the simple, and not I. It is the hand
and not the pen that is praised for the fair shape of the
letters, and if I am to claim for myself what belongs to me
in anything I have done, I confess that my tongue is the
pen of a ready writer (Ps. xlv. i). But, you say, why
then are the feet of them that preach good tidings called
beautiful? (Is. Hi. 7). What are their advantages? much
1 Ughellus has two Bishops of Pavia of this name : one elected A.D. 1130 or
1131, the other after Alphonse and Conrad, A.D. 1148, and it is to this latter
that he assigns this Letter. It, however, suits the former better, and, indeed, it
follows immediately after ep. 134, which was written A.D. 1 134.
43 LETTER CXXXVI.
every way. First, because they are the children of their
Father which is in Heaven, they think that the glory which
they offer to Him as tribute is none other s, but His, and
being children they are His heirs. Then also they reckon
that the salvation of their neighbours is also their own,
for they love them as themselves. Thirdly, the labour
of their lips shall not utterly perish. For every man
shall receive his own reward according to his own
labour (i Cor. iii. 8). I have not prevented my lips;
thou hast opened thy heart also, and therefore wilt
doubtless receive more, inasmuch as thou hast laboured
more. I am certain that thy reward awaits thee, for
thou hast given drink to the thirsty, and met with bread
those that were flying. Nor will thy kindly offices,
nor the exhortations to salvation with which thou hast
refreshed the bowels of Christ in His poor go unre
warded. We are both fellow-labourers, fellow-helpers of
God : let us both hope for our reward in the sight of the
souls of the saints saved through us. May God grant that
I never forget you, nor you cease to remember me.
LETTER CXXXVI. (A.D. 1134.)
To POPE INNOCENT.
He asks that Dalfinus, who was prepared to give satis
faction/or the injuries that he had inflicted, may receive
gentler treatment.
o
If we were always meeting with calamities, who would be
able to bear them ? If with prosperity, who is there that
would not despise it ? But Wisdom, who sweetly orders all
things, so tempers with moderation and alternates for His
elect the necessary vicissitudes that attend upon the course
of their temporal life, that they are neither shattered by
adversity nor beguiled by prosperity. The former is made
more tolerable by the latter, and the latter receives a
keener enjoyment from the former. Blessed be God in all
LETTER CXXXVII. 431
things: our sorrow has been turned into joy, our wounds
have been soothed first by wine, then with oil. The robbers
and plunderers have been smitten with compunction and
brought low. They send back with honour the priest of
the Lord, on whom they dared to lay hands ; the spoils
which they had carried off they energetically collect again,
and wholly restore. If any part of them cannot be found
Dalfinus will give satisfaction for it according to your good
pleasure ; he has pledged me his honour to this. If he
comes to the feet of your majesty, 1 as he proposes to do,
in order to fulfil his promise, I ask that the young man
may be dealt with more gently than he deserves. Not that
I wish so great a crime to go unpunished, but that the
Church, if possible, may be honoured by due satisfaction
being given ; so that he who gives the satisfaction may not
be exasperated beyond the limits of his patience, and may
not repent him of having listened to my advice.
LETTER CXXXVII. (A.D. 1134.)
To THE EMPRESS OF THE ROMANS.
As Pope Innocent did not wish to restore the Milanese
to his favour until they had made submission to the
Emperor Lothaire, Bernard commends them to the
clemency of the Empress.
In bringing over the citizens of Milan 2 I did not forget
the instructions given me beforehand by your excellency.
1 It is gathered from this that this Letter was directed to the Supreme Pontiff,
who is not seldom styled " your majesty " by others, as by Bernard in epp. 46,
150, 166, etc., also by Odo de Dioglio and others. Still, this title is sometimes
given to the prelates under him. Cf. notes to ep. 370.
2 Sigonius (de Regn. Ital., lib. ii. A.D. 1134) speaks of this as follows:
"When the Milanese saw themselves excommunicated and deprived of their
metropolitan s dignity for following Anselm in his support of Anacletus and
Conrad, moved by repentance for their misdoing, they sought, through their
Bishop Ribault, whom they had chosen in the room of Anselm, to recover favour
with Innocent and Lothaire ; and they wrote a letter with this object to Bernard,
the power of whose influence they knew to be great. Bernard being summoned
432 LETTER CXXXVII.
Even if I had not received them I should none the less have
aimed to secure your honour and the welfare of your
kingdom, as I do always and everywhere as far as I can.
As a matter of fact, the Milanese were not received into
favour with thy lord the Pope, nor into the unity of the
by Innocent to the Council of Pisa, as he was hastily passing through Lombardy
wrote to congratulate them on having laid aside their error, and promised to
help them by his intercession and to come to them on his way back. Having
arrived at Pisa the Council was opened and its business happily ended, mainly
by his sagacity and wisdom. The acts of that Council were many. The chief
one was an anathema directed against Anacletus and his supporters. To the
Milanese, who had been persuaded by their Bishop to return to their allegiance
to Innocent, many honours were given ; Ribault, whom they had themselves
elected, was allowed to retain his dignity, and was gifted with the pall, so that
the city regained its metropolitical dignity, and a most honourable embassy
was sent to them to give them pardon. Guido of Pisa, and Matthew, Bishop of
Alba, were sent as legates a lutere, and with them was joined the man they most
asked for, Bernard, to extinguish the schism caused by Archbishop Anselm, and
to set the people free from their wickedness by the ministry of religion. The
Milanese, when they heard that Bernard was close by, immediately rushed out
of the city with great joy, went seven miles to meet him, with such a multi
tude of all orders and ages, both men and women, that a stranger might
have thought that they were abandoning the city to settle elsewhere. Then
when the two companies met, they vied with each other in their eagerness to
see him, to speak to him, and even to kiss his feet. They plucked hairs from
his garments to keep them as remedies against disease, thinking everything
that he had touched holy, and supposing that they themselves would become so
by having touched him ; and in this manner they brought him with shouts and
rejoicing into the city. Then on a day appointed a conference was held. At it
they first of all repudiated Anacletus, and acknowledged Innocent as true and
Catholic Pontiff. Next they forswore Conrad and publicly recognized Lothaire
as their king and lord, and received him, as did the rest of the world, as the
august Roman Emperor, and promised on the Holy Gospel that they would give
satisfaction for their past contumacy according to the counsel and command of
Innocent. Afterwards they agreed to submit to Bernard s decision, and they ac
cepted the penalty which he imposed. While Bernard was at Milan he cured by
the power of God, to the great wonder of all, a vast number of sick, who were
brought to him, lame, blind, halt, and especially he set free very many who had
been possessed by a devil because of the schism. Then by the order of Innocent
he set out to Pavia and Cremona to make peace between the States of Lombardy.
But being unsuccessful in his efforts at Cremona, he announced their obstinacy
to Innocent in these words : " The people of Cremona have hardened their
hearts, and their prosperity is leading them to their ruin. They despise the
Milanese, and their confidence is their snare. They put their trust in chariots
and horsemen, they have frustrated my trust in them, and rendered my labour
useless."
LETTER CXXXVIII.
433
Church until they had publicly abjured Conrad, and ac
knowledged my lord Lothaire as their king and lord, and
received him, as the whole of the world does, as the august
Emperor of the Romans : nor until they had taken an oath
on the Holy Gospel, by the direction and command of my
lord the Pope, that they would give you fitting satisfaction
for the injury that they had done you. I give, therefore,
hearty thanks to the divine goodness which has thus laid
your enemies at your feet without the horrors of war, or
the shedding of man s blood; and I ask that, when the
Milanese seek through the Pope as their mediator for your
favour, we may find you as kindly disposed and merciful as
we have often before experienced you to be ; and so they
will not repent of having listened to sound advice, and you
will receive at their hands the service and honour that are
your due. For it is not seemly that your faithful servants
who labour for your honour should be put to shame by you,
as they certainly will be if, after they have held out to
others the hope of indulgence at the hands of your gracious
majesty, they find you inexorable when they intervene on
their own behalf.
LETTER CXXXVIII. (A.D. 1133.)
To HENRY, KING OF THE ENGLISH.
He asks for assistance to Pope Innocent from the King.
To the most illustrious HENRY, King of England, BER
NARD, called Abbot of Clairvaux, wishes health, prosperity,
and peace.
To wish to teach you, and especially about what con
cerns your honour, would be the part either of a fool, or of
one who knows nothing at all of you. It is enough for me,
therefore, to state the case simply and in as few words as
possible ; when a hint is enough many words are super
fluous. We are on the threshold of the city, salvation is at
the doors, righteousness is our companion, but the Roman
military want other food than that. And so by righteous
ness we appease God, by our arms we terrify the foe, but
VOL. I. 28
434 LETTER CXXXIX.
we have not the bare necessaries of life. You know better
than I what should be done to finish the good work that
you have begun in your magnificent and honourable recep
tion of my lord, Pope Innocent. 1
LETTER CXXXIX. (Circa A.D. 1135.)
To THE EMPEROR LOTHAIRE.
Bernard exhorts the Emperor to repress the schismatics.
He recommends to him the cause of a certain Church at
Toul.
To LOTHAIRE, by the grace of God Roman Emperor and
AUGUSTUS, BERNARD, called Abbot of Clairvaux, sends
greeting and prayer, if the prayer of a sinner be of any
avail.
i . Blessed be God who has chosen you, 2 and set you up as
i What Henry I. did may be seen in the Life of S. Bernard (lib. ii. c. i. n. 4).
William of Malmcsbury also says (Hist. lib. i.) : " Innocent having been
shut out of Rome, crossed the Alps, and hastened into Gaul. There he was
received by the whole Church on this side of the Alps. Moreover, King Henry,
who was not easily to be moved from any position that he had once taken,
voluntarily acknowledged him at Chartres, and at Rouen loaded him with
presents, not only from his own stores, but from the nobles and also from
the Jews." Roger of Hoveden, too, relates this same reception (Annals A.D.
i 131). Further, in the year 1 132, according to Fulk, editor of the Chronicle of
Beneventum, when the Emperor Lothaire was besieging Rome for the purpose
of restoring Innocent, and had not sufficient force to take the city, being sup
ported by only two thousand soldiers, Bernard, who was with him, sought by
this Letter reinforcements from the King of the English. These, however, Henrv
was unable to supply. We learn from a Letter of Hugh, Archbishop of Rouen,
to Pope Innocent, what a Christian and pious death he died, A.D. 1135. This
Letter is well worthy of preservation, and may be seen in the History of William
of Malmesbury (lib. i.), and in Baronius (Annals A.D. 1135).
2 Lothaire, Duke of Saxony, was a man well-spoken of by all : Cf. William of
Tyre (lib. xii. c. 16) ; Otto of Frisingen (lib. vii. c. 17) ; Sigonius, who praises
him as well for his piety as for his valour ; Conrad, Abbot of Ursperg, who sings
his praises, as a brave general, a sagacious counsellor, and a terrible opponent
to the enemies of God and of Holy Church ; Peter the Deacon, who exalts him
in wondrously magnificent terms. He says : " Who would not admire the
greatness of the Emperor s mind ? He would sit in the Chapter from prime
to vespers endeavouring to appease the discussions of the brethren, going with
out food and drink, while striving for peace and unity. Under the Imperial
cloak he served his heavenly King. For, as I myself can testify, when he was
LETTER CXXXIX. 435
the horn of our salvation, to the praise and glory of His
name, to the reparation of the Imperial honour, to the
support of the Church in her evil hour, and lastly to work
salvation in the midst of the earth. It is His work that the
glory of your crown is being daily added to and raised on
high, is wonderfully increasing and advancing in all honour
and magnificence before God and men. Of His doing
surely it was, and of His power that you lately accom
plished so successfully 1 such a laborious and dangerous
journey, undertaken on behalf of the peace of the kingdom
and the liberation of the Church. Indeed, you have most
gloriously attained the full height of the Imperial dignity,
and, what is still greater, you did so not by a mighty hand,
that so the greatness of your mind and of your faith might
the more clearly shine forth. But if the earth trembled and
was still before so tiny an army, what dread may we sup
pose will seize upon the hearts of the enemy when the
King shall proceed to show the power of his arm ? More
over, the goodness of his cause will animate him, nay, a
double necessity will urge him forward. It becomes not
me to exhort to battle ; nevertheless, I say unhesitatingly
that it is the duty of the Church s advocate to protect the
Church from being attacked by the madness of schismatics,
it is the prerogative of Caesar to uphold his own crown
engaged on any expedition he would at the early dawn hear mass first for the
departed, then for the army, then either for himself, or else the ordinary mass of
the day." It is not without reason, therefore, that Bernard praises God for giving
the Empire such an Emperor.
1 This was the journey which, at Bernard s instigation, Lothaire undertook
from Germany into Italy, as far as to Rome, although with but scanty forces, for
the purpose of placing Innocent on the Papal throne, and of in turn receiving
from him the Imperial crown. This last ceremony took place in the Lateran
while the Antipope was occupying the Vatican, and holding the strongest
positions of the city. Cf. Baronius (Annals, A.D. 1132); Sigonius (lib. xi.
A.D. 1132); Life of S. Bernard (lib. ii. c. 2). For all this Ordericus (lib. xiii.
p. 896), in describing the journey of Lothaire to Rome, A.D. 1133, says that he
bade Peter either to give place to another or submit himself to the judgment of
a Council in respect of his election, and that he said the same to Innocent. He
says, too, that Peter agreed, but Innocent declined, and that, therefore, Lothaire
was angry with the latter, and handed over to Peter the positions he was hold
ing, and left Rome without finishing the business.
436 LETTER CXXXIX.
against the Sicilian usurper. 1 For as a Jew by descent has
seized upon the See of Peter to the injury of Christ, so
without doubt everyone who makes himself a king in
Sicily speaketh against Caesar.
2. But if it is incumbent upon Caesar both to render the
things that are Caesar s to Caesar, and to God the things
that are God s, why are the possessions of God at Toul
diminished without Caesar getting any gain from them ?
It is to be feared that neglect of trifles may become a
barrier to great matters. What I refer to is this. The
church of S. Gengulphus 2 in that city is being grievously
oppressed, and unjustly, too, it is said ; and they say that
in some way or other your prudence has been beguiled into
opposing my lord the Pope, when he \vas about to see
justice done, by a request from you not to interfere. I
implore and advise you to act more prudently, to recall the
injurious request, to permit justice to be done before that
Church is destroyed to the foundation. I am but a poor
1 About the rights of the kingdom of Sicily there was at other times great
discussion, with which, however, we have nothing to do now. It may be found
described in the work of Baronius, if it is still extant, and in the works of those
who wrote against him. Bernard rightly speaks of the " Sicilian usurper," in
asmuch as he seized the duchies of Apulia and Calabria, committed to the
charge of William, his cousin, and kept them from the Pontificate of Calixtus
till the year 1 136, when Lothaire, on his second journey into Italy, according to
Conrad of Ursperg, entered Apulia, and conquered Roger, having kindled the zeal
of his soldiers chitfly by telling them that they were fighting against a foe of the
Church, and an excommunicate. Cf. Otto of Frisingen (lib. vii. c. 16 and 20) ;
Fazell (lib. 7, poster, decad). Roger, however, repented afterwards under the
admonitions of Bernard, and Peter of Cluny, who urged him by letter to seek
reconciliation.
2 For S. Gengulf, or Gangulf, or Jangulf, see Sigbert (A.D. 759) : " S.
Gengulf flourished in Burgundy, and there gloriously suffered martyrdom. In
his honour a noble church was erected at Toul, in Lorraine, about the year
1065, by S. Gerard, bishop of that city, as I have been informed by a Letter
from the illustrious and Reverend Andrew Saussay, Bishop and Count of Toul,
a man distinguished not less by his learned writings than by his dignified
position. So also we find in an ancient MS. in his possession : " An abbey of
S. Gengulf was first founded at the southern entrance of the city by S. Gerard,
who also gave it an arm of the saint." Udo, another Bishop of Toul, restored
the church. This invocation of S. Gengulf was also given to several collegiate
churches, as, e.g., in the case of S. Exuperius, at Corbeil, where the Prior, or
head of the Chapter, is called abbot. Cf. ep. 178.
LETTER CXL. 437
Religious, yet I am your devoted servant, and if I seem
importunate, it is, perhaps, just because I am thus devoted.
I salute the Lady Empress in the love of Christ.
LETTER CXL. (Circa A.D. 1135.)
To THE SAME.
He commends to the Emperor the Pisans, who were
entirely devoted to Pope Innocent.
I wonder at whose instigation, or by whose advice, it
is that your vigilance has been so eluded, that men who
were certainly worthy of double honour at your hands have
met with quite opposite treatment. I mean the citizens of
Pisa, who were the first, and, at one time, the only people
to lift up their banner against your rival. How much more
just would it have been had the royal indignation flamed
out against those who on some pretext or other have had
the audacity to attack a brave and loyal city, at a moment,
too, above all things, when many thousands of its people
had gone out to fight against the tyrant, to avenge the
wrongs of its Lord, and to defend the imperial crown.
For, that I may most fittingly apply to this city what was
of old said of holy David (i Sam. xxii. 14), I ask, among all
States what one is so faithful as Pisa, going out and coming
in, and obeying the King s command ? Is not this the
people which lately raised the siege of Naples, and put to
flight the one powerful enemy that the kingdom has ? Is
not this the people, too, which, wonderful to say, in one
campaign stormed the wealthy and strongly fortified cities
of Amalfi, Ravello, Scala, and Atturnia, cities which up to
that time had been found impregnable by all who had
attempted their capture ? How meet and right, how con
sistent with all reason and justice, would it have been that
a faithful city should have been protected against every foe,
at all events while engaged in such exploits as I have
mentioned ; to say nothing of the presence of the Supreme
438 LETTER CXLI.
Pontiff, who had lately been driven into exile, and received
by the men of Pisa with the utmost honour, which they still
continue to show ; nor yet of the good service that they have
done the Emperor, for which at that very time they them
selves were under sentence of banishment. But things
have gone by contraries ; those who were hostile have met
with favour, and those who have done their duty have
incurred wrath. But perhaps you knew nothing of all this
before. Now, however, that you do, it behoves you, nay,
decency and good policy call upon you, to change your
orders and your mind, that so men who deserve especially
to be honoured by the King s countenance and bounty
may hear and receive from you for the future such things
as they have merited. How great is the reward that the
men of Pisa can claim ; how great a reward may they still
earn ! I have said enough for a wise man.
LETTER CXLI. (A.D. 1138.)
To HUMBERT, ABBOT OF IcNY. 1
Bernard blames him severely for having suddenly and
rashly abandoned his abbey and his charge.
May Almighty God forgive you. What has made you
act thus ? Who would have believed that a man endowed
with such good gifts would have so stumbled and fallen into
evil ? How could a good tree have brought forth such bad
fruit? How terrible is God in His judgments among the
children of men ! I am not surprised at this token of the
power of the devil, but I am surprised that God should
have allowed one whom I believe to have served Him so
faithfully for so many years to fall so grievously. What
1 Humbert joined the monks of Clairvaux from Casa Dei ; then he was made
by Bernard first Abbot of the new monastery of Igny, in the Diocese of Rheims.
Desiring a life of privacy he resigned his office A.r>. 1 138, in which year this
Letter was written from Italy. In spite of it, however, he adhered to his pur
pose, and Guerric was chosen to succeed him. He die^ at Clairvaux A.D. 1148,
as we shall see in the second volume, in reference to the sermon that Bernard
delivered after his death.
LETTER CXLI. 439
will He do with me, an idle and careless servant, if He
hands over His faithful follower for a time unto the will of
his enemies ? What reason, I ask you, have you for desert
ing your charge? It is rather to be called an act of impiety,
at which your children grieve and your adversaries rejoice.
I wonder that you were not deterred by the example of
Abbot Arnold, whose similar presumption was shortly after
wards punished with a well-deserved but dreadful end, as
you well recollect. And he, indeed, as I know well, had
some excuse, but you have none. Is it that your monks
were disobedient to your commands, or the converts
neglectful of their tasks, or your neighbours by any chance
hostile to you and your house, or were your worldly posses
sions too small and insufficient, inasmuch that you were
forced to leave those whom you were not able to govern or
to feed ?
Take care, lest the words of God come to apply to you,
They have hated me without a cause (S. John xv. 25). For
what ought He to have done more for you, that He did not
do ? He planted for you a choice and beautiful vineyard ;
He surrounded it with the hedge of vowed continency ;
He dug in it a winepress of the strictest discipline ; and He
built a tower of holy poverty, the top of which reached
unto heaven. He appointed you to till it and to take care
of it. He honoured you in your labours, and, if you permit
Him, He will crown those labours. But you, alas ! are
pulling down the wall that He has built, and exposing His
vine, laden with fruitful branches, to all that pass by that
way. Who is to prevent the wild boar out of the wood
from rooting it up, and -the wild beast of the field from
devouring it? You write to me that you are not afraid to
die under such scandal and the anathema of our lord the
Pope, but I can only wonder how you can think this a
good preparation for your death. Moreover, even if you
had no other course open to you, might not some other
time have been chosen but that when I am kept away by
the necessities of the universal Church, and so am prevented
from lending any aid to that unhappy community which
440 LETTER CXLII.
you are rendering easy of attack? I beseech you, by Him
who was crucified for you, that you cease from tormenting
those who have already enough affliction, and desist from
adding sorrow to sorrow. To tell you the truth, I am so
affected by this grievous rent made in the Church at large
that my soul is aweary of life, even if you and yours could
manage to live in peace.
LETTER CXLII. (A.D. 1138.)
To THE MONKS OF THE ABBEY IN THE ALPS. 1
These monks of the Abbey in the Alps had associated
tiiemselves with Clairvaux under the Cistercian Order.
Bernard praises and consoles them for the loss of their
Abbot, who has been called to a higher rank, and instructs
them respecting the election of another.
i. Your good father and mine, by the will of God, has
been promoted to a higher place. Let us, therefore, dearly
beloved, do what the prophet speaks of when he says, The
sun was raised up, and the moon stood still in her order
(Habak. iii. n, VULG.). He is the sun by which your con
gregation in the Alps is made everywhere illustrious, just
as the moon receives her light from the sun. And as He
has been raised up let us stand still in our order, we who
have chosen to be doorkeepers in the house of our God,
rather than to dwell in the tents of ungodliness. Our Order
1 This monastery was in Savoy, in the Diocese of Geneva, and is now called
Annecy. It was founded by Humbert II., Count of Savoy. Its first Abbot was
Guerin, who was afterwards made Bishop of Sion, and this was the occasion of
this Letter being written, in which Bernard consoles the Alpine monks for the
loss of their Abbot. Caspar Jongelinus (Notit. Albat. Cister.) refers the founda
tion of this monastery to the year 1 136, but that it was founded before this and
that the monks had not embraced from the beginning the Cistercian habit, but
had after some time affiliated themselves, is evident from this epistle, especially
from the words, " How joyfully has the whole Cistercian Order opened its arms
to you ! " It is ev ident, too, from what S. Bernard goes on to say, that they
had attached themselves specially to Clairvaux. Cf. also Ep. 253 to the same
Guerin, and Manrique (Annals A.D. 1136), where bespeaks of the incorporation
as having taken place. Also the Life of S. Bernard (lib i. n. 67).
LETTER CXLII. 441
is lowliness, humility, voluntary poverty, obedience, peace,
and joy in the Holy Spirit. Our Order is to be under a
teacher, under an Abbot, under rule and discipline. Our
Order is to seek to be silent, to train ourselves by fastings,
watchings, and prayers, and manual labours, and above all
things to hold the more excellent way of charity ; nay,
more, to be progressing from day to day, and persevering
in these things until our life s end. And this I trust that
you are carefully doing.
2. But you have done one work, and all men marvel.
Although you were holy, you thought your holiness to be
nothing; you sought to share in that of others, that you
might be the more holy. Fulfilled is that which is written
in the Gospel, When ye shall have done all those things
which are commanded you say , We are unprofitable ser
vants (S. Luke xvii. ;io). You count yourselves unprofitable,
and you have been found to be humble. To do what is
right, and to think one s self unprofitable, is found amongst
very few, and therefore many wonder at it when found.
This, I repeat, is what makes you more famous than those
who are famed, more saintly than the saints. And wherever
this rumour of you has spread, it has filled all places with
the sweetness of its odour. This grace, in my judgment,
is to be preferred to protracted facts and anticipated vigils,
and to every kind of bodily discipline ; but godliness is pro
fitable unto all things. How joyfully has the whole Cister
cian Order opened its arms to you ! w 7 ith what smiling faces
have the angel hosts looked down upon you ! They know
well that, above all things, Almighty God is pleased with
brotherly fellowship and union, for He says by the Prophet,
It is a good thing to be joined together (Is. xli. 6, VULG.) ;
and by another, Behold how good and joyful a thing it is,
brethren, to dwell together in unity (Ps. cxxxiii. i) ; and
again, If brother helpeth brother both shall be comforted
(Prov. xviii. 19, VuLG.).
3. Moreover, this that you have done tends to foster
humility. And how acceptable this is to the Divine Majesty
is taught us by him who says : God resisteth the proud, but
44 2 LETTER CXLIII.
giveth grace unto the humble (S. James iv. 6). It is shown,
too, by the Master of humility, who says : Learn of Me, for
I am meek and lowly in heart (S. Luke xi. 29). What need
I say, of the special welcome of love given you by our little
flock of Clairvaux, to which you have more specially affi
liated yourselves ? No words can express the mutual
charity that exists between us, and which works in a mar
vellous way by the pouring forth of the Spirit. It only re
mains, brethren, that, after invoking the Holy Spirit, you
hasten to elect an abbot. For if you were to wait for me, I
am afraid that my arrival may be long postponed, and that
delay would be fraught with danger. But call to your side
my dear brother, Godfrey, Prior of Clairvaux, to fill my
place in this and any other matters; and then, according to
his advice, or the advice of those he may send, in case he
cannot come to you himself, as well as of your father
Guerin, choose such an abbot as may be able to labour for
the honour of God and for your salvation. Forget me not,
brethren.
LETTER CXLIII. (Circa A.D. 1135.)
To HIS MONKS OF CLAIRVAUX.
He excuses his long absence, from which he suffers more
than they ; and briefly reminds them of their duty.
To his dearly-loved brethren the Monks of Clairvaux, the
converts, 1 and the novices, their brother BERNARD sends
greeting, bidding them rejoice in the Lord always.
1 " Converts " (conversi ) was the name formerly given to adults who had been
converted to the religious life, and who were distinguished by this name from those
who were offered as children. The lay brethren are here meant ; cf. ep. 141 n. i .
They were present at the election of an abbot (ep. 36 n. 2), just as once the
laity were joined with the clergy in the election of a bishop. Here they are
named before the novices, but in Sermon 22 (de Diversis n. 2) they come after
them; they were not admitted into the choir. Bernard, moreover, distinguishes
them from the monks. For at that time they were not among the Cistercians
reckoned among the monks, as is proved by the Exordium Cuterc. (c. 15),
although they made some profession. Hence Innocent II., in some deed of
privilege or in ep. 352, here says: "Let no one presume without your leave to-
LETTER CXLIII. 443
1. Judge by yourselves what I am suffering. If my
absence is painful to you, let no one doubt that it is far
more painful to me. The loss is not equal, the burden is
not the same, for you are deprived of but one individual,
while I am bereft of all of you. It cannot but be that I am
weighed down by as many anxieties as you are in number ;
I grieve for the absence of each one of you, and fear the
dangers which fnay attack you. This double grief will not
leave me until I am restored to my children. I doubt not
that you feel the same for me; but then I am but one. You
have but a single ground for sadness ; I have many, for I
am sad on account of you all. Nor is it my only trouble
that I am forced to live for a time apart from you, when
without you I should regard even to reign as miserable
slavery, but there is added to this that I am forced to live
among things which altogether disturb the tranquillity of my
soul, and perhaps are little in harmony with the end of the
monastic life.
2. And since you know these things, you must not be
angry at my long absence, which is not according to my
will, but is due to the necessities of the Church ; rather pity
me. I hope that it will not be a long absence now ; do you
pray that it may not be unfruitful. Let any losses which
may in the meantime happen to befall you be regarded as
gains, for the cause is God s. And since He is gracious
and all-powerful, He will easily make any losses good, and
even add greater riches. Therefore, let us be of good
courage, since we have God with us, in whom I am present
with you, though we may seem to be separated by a long
distance. Let no one among you who shows himself atten
tive to his duties, humble, reverent, devoted to reading,
watchful unto prayer, anxious for brotherly love, think that
I am absent from him. For can I be anything but present
receive or to retain any one of your converts who have made their profession, but
are not monks, be he archbishop, bishop, or abbot." In the Council of Rheims,
held under Eugenius III., the converts are called " the professed " (Can. 7), and
although they may have returned to the world, yet they are declared incapable of
matrimony, like the monks, from whom, nevertheless, they are distinguished.
For the early days of Clairvaux cf. notes to ep. 3 i .
444 LETTER CXLIV.
with him in spirit when we are of one heart and one mind ?
But if, which God forbid, there be among you any whisperer,
or any that is double-tongued, a murmurer, or rebellious, or
impatient of discipline, or restless or truant, and who is not
ashamed to eat the bread of idleness, from such I should be
far absent in soul even though present in body, just because
he would have already set himself far from God by a dis
tance of character and not of space.
3. In the meanwhile, brethren, until I come, serve the
Lord in fear, that in Him being delivered from the hand of
your enemies you may serve Him without fear. Serve
Him in hope, for He is faithful that promised ; serve Him
by good works, for He is bountiful to reward. To say
nothing else, He rightly claims this life of ours as His own,
because He laid down His own to obtain it. Let none,
therefore, live to himself, but to Him who died for him.
For whom can I more justly live than for Him whose
death was my life ? for whom with more profit to myself
than for Him who promises eternal life? for whom under a
greater necessity than for Him who threatens me with
everlasting flames ? But I serve Him willingly, because
love gives liberty. To this I exhort my children. Serve Him
in that love which casteth out fear, which feels no labours,
seeks for no reward, thinks of no merit, and yet is more
urgent than all. No terror is so powerful, no rewards so
inviting, no righteousness so exacting. May it join me to
you never to be divided, may it also bring me before you,
especially at your hours of prayer, my brethren, dearly
beloved and greatly longed for.
LETTER CXLIV. (A.D. 1137.)
To THE SAME.
He expresses his regret at his very long absence from
his beloved Clairvaux, and his desire to return to his dear
sons. He tells them of the consolations that he feels
nevertheless in his great labours for the Church.
LETTER CXLIV. 445
1. My soul is sorrowful until I return, and it refuses to
be comforted till it see you. For what is my consolation in
the hour of evil, and in the place of my pilgrimage ? Are
not you in the Lord ? Wherever I go, the sweet memory
of you never leaves me; but the sweeter the memory the
more I feel the absence. Ah, me ! that the time of my
sojourning here is not only prolonged, but its burden
increased, and truly, as the Prophet says, they who for
a time separate me from you have added to the pain of my
wounds (Ps. Ixix. 26). Life is an exile, and one that is
dreary enough, for while we are in the body we are absent
from the Lord. To this is added the special grief which
almost makes me impatient, that I am forced to live
without you. It is a protracted sickness, a wearisome
waiting, to be so long subject to the vanity which possesses
everything here, to be imprisoned within the horrid dungeon
of a noisome body, to be still bound with the chains of death,
and the ropes of sin, and all this time to be away from
Christ. But against all these things one solace was given
me from above, instead of His glorious countenance which
has not yet been revealed, and that is the sight of the holy
temple of God, which is you. From this temple it used to
seem to me an easy passage to that glorious temple, after
which the Prophet sighed when he said : One thing have I
desired of the Lord, which I will require, even that I may
dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to
behold the fair beauty of the Lord and to visit His temple
(Ps. xxvii. 4).
2. What shall I say ? how often has that solace been
taken from me ? Lo, this is now the third time, if I
mistake not, that my children have been taken from me.
The babes have been too early weaned, and I am not
allowed to bring up those whom I begot through the
Gospel. In short, I am forced to abandon my own children
and look after those of others, and I hardly know which is
the more distressing, to be taken from the former, or to
have to do with the latter. O, good Jesu ! is my whole life
thus to waste away in grief, and my years in mourning? It
446 LETTER CXLIV.
is good for me, O Lord, rather to die than to live, only let
it be amongst my brethren, those of my own household,
those who are dearest to my heart. That, as all know, is
sweeter and safer, and more natural. Nay, it would be a
loving act to grant to me that I might be refreshed before I
go away, and be no more seen. If it please my Lord that
the eyes of a father, who is not worthy to be called a
father, should be closed by the hands of his sons, that they
may witness his last moments, soothe his end, and raise
his spirit by their loving prayers to the blissful fellowship,
if you think him worthy to have his body buried with the
bodies of those who are blessed because poor, if I have
found favour in Thy sight, this I most earnestly ask that I
may obtain by the prayers and merits of these my brethren.
Nevertheless, not my will but Thine be done. Not for my
own sake do I wish for either life or death.
3. But it is only right, that as you have heard of my grief,
you should also know what consolation I have. The first
solace for all the trouble and misfortune that I undergo is
the thought that the cause I strive for is that of Him to
whom all things live. Whether I will or no, I must live for
Him who bought my life at the price of His own, and who
is able, as a merciful and righteous Judge, to recompense us
in that day whatever we may suffer for Him. But if I have
served as His soldier against my will, it will be only that a
dispensation has been entrusted unto me, and I shall be an
unprofitable servant ; but if I serve willingly I shall have
glory. In this consideration, then, I breathe again for a
little. My second consolation is that often, without any
merit of mine, grace from above has crowned me in my
labours, and that grace in me was not in vain, as I have
many times found, and as you have seen to some extent.
But how necessary just now the presence of my feebleness
is to the Church of God, I would say for your consolation
were it not that it would sound like boasting. But as it is,
it is better that you should learn it from others.
4. Moved by the pressing request of the Emperor, by the
Apostolic command, as well as by the prayers of the Church
LETTER CXLV. 447
and the princes, whether with my will or against my will,
weak and ill, and, to say truth, carrying about with me the
pallid image of the King of terrors, I am borne away into
Apulia. Pray for the things which make for the Church s
peace and our salvation, that I may again see you, live with
you, and die with you, and so live that ye may obtain. In
my weakness and time of distress, with tears and groanings,
I have dictated these words, as our dear brother Baldwin l
can testify, who has taken them down from my mouth, and
who has been called by the Church to another office and
elevated to a new dignity. Pray, too, for him, as my one
comfort now, and in whom my spirit is greatly refreshed.
Pray, too, for our lord the Pope, who regards me and all of
you equally with the tenderest affection. Pray, too, for my
lord the Chancellor, who is to me as a mother ; and
for those who are with him my lord Luke, my lord
Chrysogonus, and Master Ivo 2 who show themselves as
brothers. They who are with me Brother Bruno and
Brother Gerard 3 salute you and ask for your prayers.
LETTER CXLV. (Circa A.D. 1137.)
To THE ABBOTS ASSEMBLED AT CITEAUX.
Bernard begs them to have compassion upon his labours
and sufferings, and to excuse his absence on that account.
He earnestly desires to die among his brethren, and not in
a foreign land.
1 Baldwin, first Cardinal of the Cistercian Order, was created by Innocent, A.D.
1130, at a Council held at Claremont. He was afterwards made Archbishop
of Pisa ; cf. Life of S. Bernard (lib. ii. n. 49) : " In Pisa was Baldwin born, the
glory of his native land, and a burning light to the Church." So great a man
did not think it beneath him to act as Bernard s secretary, and his praises are
sung in ep. 245, cf. ep. 201.
2 All these were Cardinals. Luke, of the title of SS. John and Paul, was
created A.D. 1132 ; Chrysogonus, of the title of S. Maria de Porticu, A.D. 1134;
Ivo, a regular Canon of S. Victor of Paris, A.D. 1130, of the title of S. Laurence
in Damasus ; to him ep. 193 was written.
3 Bruno is called (ep. 209) the father of many disciples in Sicily. Gerard
seems to be Bernard s brother. For Bruno see also ep. 165 n. 4.
448 LETTER CXLV.
In much weakness of body and anxiety of mind, as God
knows, have I dictated these words to you a man miser
able and born to suffering, yet your brother. Would that I
might merit to have now the Holy Spirit, in whom ye have
met together, as my advocate to your whole body, that He
might impress upon your hearts the trouble that I am
suffering, and bring before your brotherly affections my sad
and suppliant countenance just as it now is. I do not pray
Him to create new pity in you, for I know how familiar to
you all is that virtue, but I do ask Him to give you a keen
sense of how much loving pity I now stand in need. For I
am certain that if that were given you, tears would
unceasingly flow forth from the fount of your love, that
groans and sobs and sighs would knock at heaven s gate, so
that God would hear and be gracious unto me, and say,
" I have restored thee to thy brethren, thou shalt not die
amid strangers, but amongst thine own people." I am so
worn, indeed, by my great labours and griefs that I am often
awearied of life. But I speak as a man, because of
my infirmity; I desire my life to be prolonged till I return
to you, that I may not die away from you. For the rest,
brethren, make good your ways, determining and holding
to what is true, honest, and useful. Before all things
endeavour to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of
peace, and the God of peace shall be with you.
END OF VOL. I.
INDEX.
A
r >" PAGE
Abaelard, Peter . . . . . 24, 48
Abbey in the Alps, Letter to the Monks of . . 440
Abbot of S. Mary, York, Letter to . . . . 327
Abbot of S. Pierremont, Letter to . . . 273
Abbots assembled at Soissons, Letter to . . .322
Abbots, the, at Citeaux, Letter to . . -447
Adam, Abbot of Eberach . . . . 71
Adam, de Petit Pont . . . . -54
Adam, Letter to the Monk . . . . 137, 140
Adelais, Duchess of Lorraine . . . -33
Albano, Matthew of . . . . 42, 226
Alberic, Bishop of Ostia . . . . -55
Alberic (of Bourges) . . . . .176
Albero, Bishop of Verdun . . . . 3 1
Albero, Primicerius of Metz, Letter to . . .199
Alexander, Bishop of Lincoln, Letter to . . 245
Alexander III., Pope . . . . .21
Alvisus, Abbot of Anchin, Letter to . . . 247
Ambrose, S. . . . . . .161
Anacletus . . . . . . 34, 417
Angouleme, Adhemar of . . . .20
Anselm of Pusterla, Archbishop of Milan. . -425
Ansellus, Subdeacon of Troyes . . . .19
Antichrist, opinions on ..... 235
Appendix Hervagiana ..... 7
Apulia, Duke of . . . . .417
Aquitaine, Letter to Bishops of . . . 400
Ardutius, Bishop of Geneva, Letters to . . 195, 196
Arnay-le-Duc ...... 6
Arnold, Abbot of Morimond, Letter to . . 133, 139
Arnold, of Brescia . . . . . .68
Arnulf, Bishop of Lisieux . . . . -44
Artaud, Abbot of Prully, Letter to . . . . 272
Athanasius, S. . . . . . .24
Atto . . . . . . 19
Augustine, S. . . 24
VOL. I. 29
450 INDEX.
Baldwin, Archbishop of Pisa .... 447
Bale . . . . . . 6, 7
Baluze, Stephen . . . . . .11
Bar, Prevot of . . . . . .216
Beatrice, Letter to the Lady . . . .389
Belin ....... 216
Benedict . . . . . .112, 253
Berengarius of Poitiers . . . . 5 1
Bernardine Chronology .... 76-90
Bernard of Parma . . . . . .411
Bernard of Pavia . . . . . .411
Bocard, John ...... 6
Boethius, Exposition of . . . . -55
Bonacursus . . . . . .67
Bonneval . . . . . . .18
Braga, Bartholomew of . . . .27
Brito, Bernard . . . . . .11
Bruges ....... 7
Bruno of Cologne . . . . . -43
Bruno of Cologne, Letters to . . 138, 159, 162, 163
Burgundy, Duke of . . . . .417
Burgundy, Letter to the Duchess of . . 392
Buzay, John de . . . . . 19
c.
Calixtus II. . . . . . -36
Cantelou, Claude ...... 9
Celles, Peter de . . . . .16
Chalons, Geoffrey of . . . . .42
Champagne ...... 7
Chartres, Arnold, Abbot of . . . . 17
Chartres, Bishop of . . . . .231
Chartres, Guy de, Abbot of Clairvaux . . .8
Citeaux . . 8, 9, 32, 145, 154. 185
Clairvaux . . . . . . . 5, 6
Clairvaux, Letters to the Monks of . . 442, 444
Clement VIII. ...... 4
Clictoveus, Jodocus . . . . . .22
Cluny . . . . .no, 185
Cluny, Peter Abbot of . . . . 17
Comestor, Francis . . . . . . 6, 7
Conrad ...... 70, 139
Conrad, Letter to Duke . . . . -333
Conrad of Salsbourg . . . . .411
Cnyck, Henry ......
INDEX. 451
Dantzig, Laurence of . . . .6
Deschamps, Lambert . . . . .6
Dijon . . . . . . 177
Drogo ...... 202, 203
Drogo, Letter to . . . . . 207
Duchesne . . . . . . -37
E.
Ebal, Bishop of Chalons-sur-Marne . . . 238
Ecbert, Abbot of Schb noue . . . . .68
Elias, Letter to the Parents of .... 372
Emmanuel, Duke of Savoy ..... 420
Empress of the Romans, Letter to . . .431
Engelbert, Count ...... 423
Equipert, Bishop of Munster . . . .411
Ermengarde, Countess of Brittany, Letters to . 387, 388
Ermengarde, Duchess of Brittany . . . -33
Eugenius III., Pope . . . . . 4, 19
Everard . . . . . . .139
Evervinus, Abbot of Steinfeld . . . -65
F.
Flay, Letters to the Monks of . . . 252, 255
Foigny ....... 264
Frederic, Bishop of Cologne . . . .67
Frederic, Duke of Suabia . . . . .70
Fulk, Abbot of Epernay ..... 334
Fulk, Letter to . . . . .120
G.
Gabriel, Father ...... 8
Garnerius, Dom ...... 240
Gebuin, Archdeacon . . . . .180
Geneva, Count of . . . . . 433
Genoa, Letter to the men of .... 419
Geoffrey, Abbot of S. Medard, Letter to . .250
Geoffrey, Archbishop of Bordeaux . . -55
Geoffrey, Bishop of Chartres . . 45, 222, 231
Geoffrey, Bishop of Chartres, Letters to . 234, 235, 236
Geoffrey de Perrone, Letter to .... 368
Geoffrey, Letter to the Parents of . . 371
Geoffrey of Lisieux, Letter to .... 375
Geoffrey of Loretto, Letter to . 399
Geoffrey, Prior of Vigeois . . . . .48
Geoffrey, Secretary of S. Bernard . . . .15
45 2 INDEX.
PAGE
Gerard, Abbot of Pottieres, Letter to . . 2 Q i
Gerard, Bishop of Angouleme
Ghent -.. 14
Gilbert, Bishop of London, Letter to . . .102
Gilbert de la Porree .... 48 cz
Gilo, Bishop of Tusculum . . . 4-
Godescalc, Abbot of Mont S. Eloi . . . rr
Godfrey, Prior of Clairvaux . . . 442
Godwin, a monk . . . . -247
Guarike ..... I22
Guerric . . . a 120 m
/" M ALL " D (J > 5 21
Guiberga, Abbess . . . . _ ,,
Guigues, Prior of Grand Chartreuse, Letters to . 164, 175
Guilencus, Bishop of Langres, Letters to . 240, 241
Guillot, John ... .68
Guttenberg .... -
Guy, Abbot of Molemes, Letter to . . . .200
Guy, Abbot of Trois Fontaines . . 244, 358, 261
Guy, Bishop of Lausanne, Letter to . IQ5
H.
Haimeric, Chancellor, Letters to 178,186,224,230 211 212 211
Harbert, Abbot of Dijon . . . 240
Heisterbach, Caesar ... 2 -
Henry, Archbishop of Sens, Letter to . 218
Henry, Bishop of Albano ... ,-,
Henry, Bishop of Verdun, Letters to 243, 244
Henry, Bishop of Winchester, Letter to . . . 326
Henry, King of England, Letters to i 2 \ 433
Henry Murdach, Letter to . \\ 2
Henry of Pisa .... ?6
Hermann of Tournay ... jq
Herod ..... 057
Herodias . . ,,-
Hervage, John -.. .. i 67
Hilary of Poitiers . . . .
Hildebert, Archbishop of Tours, Letter of, to S. Bernard 303
Hildebert, Letters to . , Q r ,^7
Hildebrand of Pistoja . . ! . 411
Hildegar of Tarragona
iionorius II. ...
Honorius II., Pope, Letters to 176, 177, 221/222, 228, 220
Honcourt, Letter to Canons of ... I3 j
Horst, James Merlon . . 8, 9, i o, n, 13, i?
Hoyland, Gilbert of . ..." 5
Hugh, Abbot of Pontigny . 1 3
INDEX. 453
PAGE
Hugh de Champfleury . . . . -54
Hugo, Archbishop of Rouen, Letter to . . 193
Hugo, Abbot of Pontigny, Letter to ... 205
Hugo, Count of Champagne, Letter to ... 200
Hugo Farsit, Letters to .... 208, 209
Hugo of Grenoble . . . . . .411
Hugo of Lausanne ...... 204
Humbald, Archbishop of Lyons, Letter to . . .188
Humbert ...... 209, 211
Humbert, Abbot of Igny, Letter to .... 438
I.
Innocent, Letter to Pope ..... 430
J-
John, Abbot of Casa Mario ... 72, 73
Joscelin, Bishop of Soissons . . . 19, 55
K.
Klein, John .... .6
L.
Lambert, Brother . . 342
Landulf of Asti . .411
Langres, Bishop of . 145, 217
Lannoy, James . .10
Laon, Bishop of . 226
Laon, Hermann of . -33
Laon, Synod of . . 46
Larzicourt . .215
Lefevre, Nicholas . . . . .26
Lepetit, John . 6
Lescot, Hubert . ... 8
Letters of S. Bernard . . 9,91-106
Liege, Laurence of . 31
Lothaire, Emperor . . 39, 41, 43 1 * 435
Lothaire, Letters to . . 434> 437
Lorraine, Letter to Duke and Duchess of . 390, 391
Louis, King of France, Letter to .... 219
Luke, Abbot of Cuissy, Letter to . 288
Luxeuil . . . .178
Lyons . ... 6
454 INDEX.
Maccabees, Letter concerning ... 334
Manberg, John de . . . . . .20
Mans . . . . . . 63, 64
Marcellin, Antoine . . . . . 6, 17
Marmoutiers ..... 1^7, 412
Matthew, the Legate, Letter to . . . .186
Maurigny, Chronicle of . . . -35
Meaux, Bishop of . . . . . 64, 188
Metellus, Hugh . . . . . .67
Merlin, William ......
Milan, Letter to the Clergy of .... 42 6
Milan, Letter to all the Citizens of . , 423, 427
Milan, Letter to Novices at .... 428
Milo, Bishop of Terouanne . . . . -55
Mire, Louis le .
Molesme, Abbey of . . . . .218,219,241
Morimond, Abbot of . . . . 137
Moustier-Ramey, Guy, Abbot of . 1?
Murdach, Henry, Letter to . . . -352
N.
Natalis, Abbot of Rebais . . . . -43
Nicasius, S., Abbot of, Letter to . . . 202
Nicholas V., Pope .... .
Nivelles, Sebastian de
Norbert, Archbishop of Magdebourg . .162,235,411
o.
Oger, Regular Canon, Letters to . . 304, 314, 318, 320
Othbert . . . . . . .126
Otto, Bishop of Frisingen . . . . 48, 72
Otto, Bishop of Troyes, Letter to . . . .188
P.
Pamelius, James ..... 7
Paris, Stephen Bishop of . . . .20
Parvin . . . . . .225
Paschal II., Pope . . . . . ^5
Perigueux . . . . . . .64
Peter Leonis .... 2 r 30
Peter, Bishop of Portus
Peter of Pisa . . . . -37
Peter of Burgundy . . . . . -37
INDEX.
455
Peter, Cardinal of S. Aquitius . . . -37
Peter of S. Adrian . . . . . -37
Peter de Bruys . . . . . .60
Peter, Cardinal Presbyter, Letter to . . .179
Peter, Cardinal Deacon, Letters to . . .179, 185
Peter, Bishop of Pavia, Letter to .... 429
Philip le Bel . . . . . .8
Philip, a monk ...... 245
Picard, Jean ...... 8
Pisa, Letter to the Men of . . . .422
Pontius, Abbot of Cluny . . . . -37
R.
Radevic . . . . . . .60
Rainald, Abbot of Foigny, Letters to . . 264, 269, 271
Rheims, Council at . . . . . -41
Rheims, Samson, Bishop of . . . . 32, 226
Rheims . . . . . . .185
Richard, Archbishop of Canterbury . . . -47
Richard, Abbot of Fountains, Letter to . . . 331
Ricuin, Bishop of Toul, in Lorraine, Letter to . . 242
Rie, Louis de ...... 6
Romanus, Sub-deacon, Letter to . . . . 350
Rouald, Magister ...... 5
Rorgon of Abbeville . . . . . .16
Rosay ....... 7
S.
Salisbury, John of . . . .16
Samson, Bishop of Rheims . . . . 32
Savigny . ... 412
SchoefFer, Peter ...... 5
Scutepuits, Hubert . . . . . .12
Sens, Henry of . . . . .29
Simon, Abbot of S. Nicholas, Letters to . . 295, 297
Sixtus, of Sienna ...... 4
Soissons, Council of . . . . . .49
Sophia, the Virgin, Letter to .... 376
Stephen, Bishop of Metz, Letter to .... 198
Stephen de Garlande . . . . .284
Stephen, Abbot of S. John at Chartres, Letter to . 293
Suger, Abbot . . . . -37, 55. 2 75
T.
Tanchelm . . . . . . 60, 67
Theobald, Count of Blois . . . . .70
456 INDEX.
Theobald, Count of Champagne, Letters to . 211,213,215,217
Thierry, Count of Flanders . . . . -70
Thomas, Provost of Beverley, Letter to . . 354
Thomas of S. Omer, Letter to .... 364
Thurstan, Archbishop of York, Letter to . . . 330
Tiraquellius, Edmund . . . . .8
Trois Fontaines, Letter to the Monks of . .264
u.
Urban II., Pope . . . . . .18
Ursus, Abbot of S. Denis ..... 293
Utica . . . . . . 19
V.
Vallombrosa . . . . . .412
Venice ....... 6
Verdun . . . . . . .19
Vezelay . . . . . . -7
Victor, S. . . . . . . . 17
Virgin of S. Mary of Troyes, Letter to a . . 385
Vitalis, Ordericus . . . . . 19
Vitry, James de . . . . -33
Vivian, Abbot of Haute Combe .... 233
Voss, Gerard ...... 4
w.
Walter de Chaumont, Letter to . . . 347
Walter of Ravenna . . . . . .411
William, Duke of Aquitaine . . . . .34
William, Count of Poitou . . . . .43
William, Bishop of Chalons . .... 132
William, Abbot of S. Thierry . . . .289
William, Abbot of S. Thierry, Letters to . . 299, 303
William, Monk of Clairvaux .... 345
Wissembourg, Synod at . . . .40
