Sermons on the Song of Songs

is sufficient to know that to none, whether of the maidens, or of the friends, or even of the Queens, is access opened to that secret of the inner chamber of the Bride groom, which He reserves for Her who is His dove, His undefiled, His only and perfect one. On that account I am not troubled or surprised if access to it is not given unto me, especially because it is to my mind quite clear that not even the Bride attains to the knowledge of all the secret things into which she desires to be admitted.

For does she not earnestly ask the Bridegroom where He feeds His flock, and where He rests at noon (Cant. i. 6) ?

I think I have reached ; for you will not impute vanity to that which I say in the hope of serving you. There is, then, in the dwelling of the Bridegroom a chosen spot in which the Sovereign Ruler of the universe decrees His laws and shapes His designs, setting laws in weight, and measure, and number, to all things created. That place is lofty and secret, but it is by no means noiseless. For though He, as far as regards Himself, disposes all things with sweetness, yet He disposes them, and does not permit that one who has reached that point by contemplation should remain in quiescence; but He wearies, and by a course, marvellous and yet delightful, renders full of unrest and lassitude the soul that searches out and admires these deep things. The Bride expresses beautifully, in a later part of this Canticle, each of these feelings, that is, the delight and, at the same time, the inquietude of this contemplation, as where she says: I sleep, but my heart waketh (v. 2). For in speaking of sleep she signifies that she tastes the repose of a trance most sweet, and the stillness of complete admiration; but when of waking, that she endures the weariness of a restless curiosity and laborious research.

Thus the holy Job says : When I lie down I say, When shall I arise and the night be gone ? (Job vii. 4). Do you not understand by these words that a holy soul desires to escape from a repose which, in a Digitized by Google 139 certain sense, troubles it, and to seek again the same employment, troublous, and yet sweet ? For he would not have said, When shall I arise ? if that repose of contemplation had been entirely pleasing to him ; nor, on the other hand, if it had been wholly displeasing, would he have awaited with impatience the hour of repose, that is to say, the evening} That, therefore, where entire rest is not attained, is not the bedchamber of the Bridegroom. and most secret, of God the Judge, just and terrible in His dealings with the children of men, watches ceaselessly over His creatures, gifted with reason, but doomed on account of sin. The awestricken beholder, I repeat, here regards God, who by a just and secret judgment neither washes away the evil actions of those who are reprobate, nor accepts their good actions; and, moreover, He hardens their hearts, lest they should perchance repent and return, and be converted, and He should heal them. Nor is this without a sure

and eternal reason, which is manifestly so much the more awful, as it is, in fact, immovable and eternal. That is a very fearful saying upon this subject which we read in the Prophet, where God, speaking to His Angels, says : Let us have pity on the wicked (Is. xxvi. 10). And when they are stricken with terror, and inquire : Will he, then, not learn to do righteousness ? No, He replies ; and he adds the reason : In the land of righteousness will he deal unjustly, and will not behold the majesty of the Lord. Let ecclesiastics, let the ministers of the Church, be seized with fear who commit so many wrongs in the lands of the Saints of which they have possession, and who, far from being content with the stipends which ought to suffice for them, keep for themselves, with wicked and sacrilegious greed, the overplus, which ought to go to nourish the poor ; who are not ashamed to consume for their own pride and luxury the sustenance of the needy, and thus are guilty of a double crime \ inasmuch as they seize upon what is not their own, and abuse holy things to the service of their vanities and lusts. 13. Who, then, in seeing that He, whose judgments are like

the great deep, spares and pities such persons in this life, in order not to spare them in eternity, will seek rest in this place ? This vision is filled with the tremor2 of judgment, not with the peace and security of the bedchamber of the King. Terrible is that place, and wholly devoid of calm and rest When brought into it, I shudder to the very heart, and revolve in my mind with fear that saying : Who knoweth whether he be worthy of love or of hatred 7 (Eccles. ix. 1).

Nor is it wonderful if I (who am but as a leaf driven to and fro, or as the dry stubble, Job xiii. 25) should totter in that place, where that great man who contemplated with such marvellous insight [the doings of the Creator] declares that his feet were almost gone, and his treadings had well nigh slipped, saying : / was envious of the foolish, when I saw the prosperity of the tvieked. WhereDigitized by 140 fore? Because they are not in trouble as other men, neither are they plagued like other men ; therefore pride eompasseth them about as a chain (Ps. lxxiii. 3-6), that they should not be humbled and made penitent, but be condemned, because of their pride, with the devil, who is proud, and with his angels. For those who have no part in the trouble of men shall assuredly have part in that of demons, and shall hear that terrible sentence from the Mouth of the Judge : Depart from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels (Matt. xxv. 41). And yet this, too, is a habitation of God ; it is plainly no other than the house of God and the gate of Heaven. It is here that God is feared ; here is His Name [beheld as] holy and terrible ; it is, as it were, the entering in of His glory ; for the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom (Ps. cxi. 10). 14. Let it not astonish you that I have set down the beginning of wisdom as belonging to this, and not to the earlier place. For as in the earlier we listen to Wisdom teaching of all things as a professor in his lecture-hall, so in this we receive these teachings in ourselves ; there we are indeed instructed, but here we are touched and influenced. Instruction renders men learned, but feeling1 makes them wise. The sun does not render all things warm upon which its light falls, so Wisdom also instructs many persons what they ought to do, without going on to give the earnestness and ardour needful to do it.

It is one thing to know of the existence of great treasures, another to possess them ; and it is the possession, not the knowledge, which renders a man rich. Similarly, there is a difference between the knowledge of God and the fear of God, and it is not the knowledge, but the fear of Him, which renders a man truly wise, provided it be a fear which makes [a durable] impression on the soul. Would you call a person wise whom his own acquirements render vain ? It is only the most foolish of persons who would call those wise who, when they had known God, glorified Him not as God, nor rendered thanks to Him. For my part. I am rather of the Apostle s opinion, when he says that their heart was manifestly foolish (Rom. i. 21, 22). And truly the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, because the soul begins to have discernment of, and inclination for, God when He has stricken it with fear, not when He has communicated to it knowledge.

If you fear the righteousness of God, if you fear His power, then, inasmuch as He is righteous and powerful, you incline to Him with preference and choice ; for fear is a kind of preference. It (preference) renders one wise (sapor sapientem facit), as knowledge makes one knowing, and riches render one rich. To what purpose, then, is the former place? It serves only to prepare us for wisdom. There you are prepared for it, that here you may enter upon its possession. The preparation for it is the attainment of a certain degree of knowledge. But this is followed only too easily by the elation of vanity, unless this be repressed by fear ; and therefore it is rightly said, The fear of the Lord is t/ie beginning of wisdom, since this Digitized by Google 141 fear first opposes itself to that which the Apostle declares is foolishness.

The former, then, gives a certain approach, as it were, to wisdom, but the latter an entrance into it. Nevertheless, the beholder finds perfect rest neither in the one nor in the other, because in the one God appears, as it were, full of care, in the other full of trouble. Seek not, then, the bedchamber of the Bridegroom in these spots, whereof the one resembles rather the audience chamber of a professor, the other the tribunal of a judge. 15. But there is a place where God is beheld as truly tranquil and in repose ; it is, in fact, the place, not of a judge, not of a teacher, but of a Bridegroom. I do not know how it may be with regard to others, but as far as concerns myself, that is for me a chamber into which entrance has sometimes been granted unto me ; but, alas ! how rarely that has happened, and for how short a time it has lasted ! It is there that is clearly recognised the mercy of the Lord from everlasting and to everlasting upon them that fear Him.

Happy is he who can say : 1 am a companion of all them that fear Thee, and of them that keep Thy precepts (Ps. cxix. 63). The decree of the Lord standeth fast ; His purpose of peace endureth upon them who fear Him, forgiving the evil actions and rewarding the good which they have done, and, by a marvellous method of His mercy, making, not only those things which are good, but also those which are evil, work together for their good. O truly blessed, and, indeed, the only blessed one is he, unto whom the Lord will not impute iniquity ! (Ps. xxxii. 2). For there is none without sin, no not one ; for all have sinned and come short of the glory of God (Rom. iii. 23). But who shall lay anything to the charge of God* s elect 7 (Rom. viii. 33).

It is sufficient for all righteousness to me to have Him upon my side, against whom alone I have offended. Everything which He has decreed not to impute unto me is as though it had not been. Not to sin is the righteousness of God, but the forgiveness of God is the righteousness of man. I have seen these things, and can bear witness to the truth of that saying : Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin, for His seed abideth in him (1 John iii. 9). Now, the heavenly seed is the eternal predestination, wherewith God hath loved His elect, and bestowed graces upon them in His Beloved Son, before the foundation of the world ; beholding them in Him with favour, that they might be rendered worthy to see His power and His glory, and be made sharers in the inheritance of Him, to whose image and likeness they were to be conformed. These, then, I have looked upon as having never sinned, because, even though they are seen to have sinned in time, their offences do not appear in eternity, because the charity of their Father covers the multitude of sins.1 He calls them blessed, then, whose iniquities are forgiven, and whose sins are covered the sins of the predestinate are said 4 to he hidden in the charity,' that is to say, of liod. Compare Sermon IV., De Diversis, n. 5, and Sermon I. for Septuagesima, with notes.

Digitized by 142 (Ps. xxxii. i ). Then I have felt on a sudden so great a joy and confidence arising in me, that it surpassed the fear which had gone •before it in the place of horror — I mean in that of the second vision — and it seemed to me as if I were one of those blessed ones. O that it had lasted longer ! Again and again do Thou visit me, O Lord, with Thy salvation, that I may see the good of Thy chosen^ that I may rejoice in the gladness of Thy nation (Ps. cvi. 4, 5). 16. O place of true repose, and which I may not unfitly call by the name of chamber ! O place in which God is beheld, not, as it were, aroused and in wrath, nor as distracted with care [of all His great creation], but in which is experienced the influence of His good, and favourable, and perfect will ! That vision does not terrify, but soothes ; it does not arouse an unjust curiosity, but allays it ; and tranquillizes the spirit in place of wearying it. Here true rest is felt. The God of peace renders all things peaceful, and the soul, looking up with fixed gaze at His ineffable stillness, is itself awed

into quiescence. It is as if one beheld some king or great judge, who, after the hearing of causes in his court all the day long, dismisses his crowds of attendants, puts an end to the labours of his office, returns with night to his peaceful palace, enters into his chamber with those few companions whom he condescends to honour with his intimacy in private, and there enjoys his repose with the more confidence because it is in such complete retirement, and because, as he looks peacefully around, he sees only the faces of those who are dear to him. If it should ever be the happy lot of any of you to be caught up and withdrawn for awhile into that hidden and mysterious sanctuary of God, and not to be called away from it either by the needs of the body, by the sting of some care, or, it may be, by the haunting pang of some sin, or, at least, by the inrushing flood of ideas and images belonging to this world, which are very difficult indeed to banish, such an one will be able in truth, when he returns to us again, to lift up his head and say : The King hath brought me into His chamber. And yet I would not rashly affirm that

this would have been that very chamber into which the Bride rejoices to have entered. It is indeed a chamber, and the chamber of the King ; but of the three that we have pointed out as included in the threefold vision, there is that one alone in repose and peace.

For, as we have already shown, in the first chamber there is but a brief and fleeting repose, and in the second none whatever ; because in the first God is beheld as wonderful and admirable, and the curiosity is violently excited to search out the numerous instances of His glory; while in the second He is beheld as terrible, and human weakness is thrown into terror at the sight of Him. But in the third He is beheld not as terrible, and He even deigns to appear not so much admirable, as lovable, serene and peaceful, sweet and gentle, and full of mercy towards them who look unto Him.1 See Ps. lxxxvi. 5. —El).

Digitized by Google 143 17. Now that you may retain in memory a brief summary of what I have said to you about the cellar, the garden, and the chamber of the Bridegroom, at unusual length in this sermon, remember that there are three times, three merits, and three kinds- of reward. In the garden, take note of the times ; in the cellar, of the merits ; and in the bedchamber, of the rewards, in that threefold contemplation of the soul that is seeking and searching for the chamber of the King. As for the cellar, we have spoken of it sufficiently. But with regard to the garden and the chamber, if there should appear to be something to be added or further explained, I will not pass over an opportunity of doing so. If not, let what has been said suffice, without repetition, so that I may not weary you (which God forbid !) by my words, which are spoken to the praise and glory of the Bridegroom of the Church, our Lord Jesus Christ, who is above all, God blessed for ever. Amen.

PRINCIPALLY AGAINST THE DETESTABLE VICE OF DETRACTION : AND NOW at length for the third time, dear brethren, the eye* of Providence has looked favourably from heaven upon my return to you from Rome, and a more peaceful aspect of affairs has smiled upon us at length. The furious anger of the faction of Peter Leonis has cooled, their schism has come to an end, the Church has regained peace. That wicked one who for eight years almost has troubled it by a terrible schism, has been brought to nothing in the sight of all. Shall it be in vain that I have been restored to you after perils so great ? Since I have been granted to your desires, let it be for your spiritual advancement also ; the life which I owe to your merits, I desire to devote to cares for you and your salvation. Since then you wish that I should continue, what I began long since, my comment on the Song of Songs, I willingly do so, and I think it better to resume the discourse which was interrupted, than to commence something new. But I fear lest, my mind being at all times unequal to that duty, and having been for so long a time unused to the discharge of it, and distracted by matters very different, my thoughts should be too weak and unworthy for a subject so sublime. But that which I have, I give unto you ; and it may be that God, having regard to my faithful endeavour to serve Him, may enable me to give even that which I have not. If it be Leonis was at length brought to an end.

Digitized by 144 otherwise, then let not my will, but my want of ability be blamed for it. 2. Now, the place where we ought to commence, I think, is at this passage : The upright love thee (i. 4). But before we begin to explain it, let us see who it is speaks thus. For we ought to supply what the author does not say. Perhaps, then, we may attribute these words to the young maidens, whose are the sentences which precede them.1 For after they had said to her, * We will rejoice and be glad in thee, remembering thy bosom, which is better than wine' (and there is no doubt that there they speak to their mother) ; they continue with the words which follow : The upright love thee, I believe that they added this on account of some of their number who had not the same sentiments, although they seemed to run equally well ; who sought their own advantage, not walking sincerely and in simplicity, but taking occasion to murmur against her, because she entered alone into the storehouses of the Bridegroom. Which is no other than that the Apostle makes mention of : Perils from false brethren (2 Cor. xi. 26). These are they, against whose taunts the Bride herself, later on, is

obliged to defend herself, replying to them : I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem (i. 5). It is then to console her because of those who murmur and blaspheme, that it is said by those others who are souls good, simple, humble, and gentle : The upright love thee, 1 Have no care/ they say, 4 for the unjust blame of those blasphemers, when it is quite clear that The upright love thee' It is a goodly consolation, in truth, when we do good and are spoken ill of by the evil, if the righteous love us. The esteem of the good, with the approving testimony of conscience, is sufficient for us against the tongues that speak evil. My soul shall make her boast in the Lord : the humble shall hear thereof and be glad ; yes, shall be glad (Ps xxxiv. 2). Let me be pleasing to those who are gentle, and I shall endure with equanimity whatsoever the envy of the abandoned ( perditarum) shall be desirous to utter against me. 3. It is, then, in this sense, that I understand what is here said : The upright love T/iee, Not unfitly, as I think, since everywhere, diversity of reading in the MSS. In some of them the entire exordium is omitted, and

the sermon begins thus : 1 The upright love Thee. Whom are we to suppose are they who speak these words ? If the young maidens, then without doubt they say this to their mother, in like manner as they had said to her *' We will rejoice and be glad in thee, remembering thy bosom, which is better than wine"; and continue " the upright love thee," etc. Other MSS. have our reading. From this variety arises great confusion in most editions, in which both introductions are reproduced, but wrongly. The explanation of this confusion is that St. Bernard preached the same sermon twice — the first time with the shorter introduction, in the year 1 137, before he went to Rome for the third time ; the second time in 1138, when he returned thence, and then he prefixed the longer introduction, in order to take up the interrupted work where he had left it in the previous sermon. One MS. in the Royal Library, No. 4,511, reproduces the sermon with the two introductions ; and one Colbertine has it once here with the one introduction, and again after Sermon LX. with the other.

Digitized by Google even in the choir of maidens, such are found who watch closely the actions of the Bride, not to imitate them, but to detract from their merit. By the good deeds of their elders they are tormented, but upon the evil they gloat and feed. You see them walking apart, drawing together, and making little knots, where they indulge themselves without restraint in insolent words and scurrilous whispers.

They are joined close one to the other, so that not a breath can escape, so great is their eagerness to detract from others and to listen to detraction. They associate themselves together in order to speak ill of their neighbour, and are united to cause disunion. They form among themselves friendships full of unfriendliness, combine under a common impulse of malignity, and make odious cabals. It was thus that Herod and Pilate formerly acted, of whom the Gospel relates that in t/iat day were they made friends together (Luke xxiii. 12), that is, on the day of the Passion of Our Lord. When they assemble together in such a spirit, it is not to eat the Lord's Supper, but rather to give to others, and to drink themselves, of the cup of demons ; while some bear on their tongues the poison that slays the souls of others, and others willingly receive the mortal venom which enters their heart through their ears. That is how, according to the Prophet, death enters in through our windows (Jer. ix. 21), when with [slavering] mouths and itching ears we give to, and receive from, each other in turn the mortal cup of scandal and detraction. Let not my soul come into their meeting, for they are hated by God, as the Apostle bears witness : Detractors [are] hateful to God (Rom. i. 30, Vulg. and Douay). Listen in what terms God Himself, speaking in a Psalm, confirms that statement : Whoso privily slander eth his neighbour•, him will I destroy (Ps. ci. 5). 4. Nor is that wonderful to us when we perceive that this vice conflicts with, and persecutes, more even than others, charity, which is [the nature of] God Himself, as you yourselves can easily discern.

For everyone who slanders his neighbour gives proof, in the first place, that he is wholly void of charity. In the second place, what other object can he have in uttering the slander than to induce others to hate or despise those of whom the slander is spoken ? The slanderous tongue strikes, therefore, a deadly blow at charity in all those who hear the calumny, and, as far as its power extends, entirely destroys and extinguishes it ; and not only in them, but in all those who are absent, but to whom the calumny is, perhaps, repeated, as words fly from lip to lip by those who have heard it. You see, then, how a malicious report may in a brief space of time easily infect with the plague of its malice a great number of souls. Wherefore the prophetic spirit says of such : Their mouth is full of cursing and bitterness ; their feet are swift to shed blood (Ps. xiii. 3, Vulg. and Douay). And speech speeds as rapidly as the feet of a swift runner.

If there be one only who speaks, and he speaks but one sole word, yet that one word enters into the ears of a multitude of hearers, and in one moment slays their souls ; for a heart full of the venom of envy 10 Digitized by 146 can scatter bitter words only through its bitter instrument of the tongue, according to the saying of the Lord : Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh (Luke vL 45). There are different varieties of this pest. There are some persons who vomit forth the poison of detraction, nakedly and without discrimination, as it comes into their heads. And again, there are others who take pains to conceal the malice they have conceived, and which they are no longer able to keep to themselves, with the cloak of an affected reserve.

Before the slander is uttered, you see the man heaving deep sighs, putting on a grave look and a pretended sadness, casting his eyes down to the ground, speaking slowly, and uttering his slanders with a plaintive voice. Thus they produce so much the greater effect, as those who hear them believe that they are spoken with regret, and rather with reluctance than with malice. *I regret it very much,' he protests, ' on his account, because I have great love for him ; but I have never been able to correct him in this respect.' * I knew well/ says another, • that he was subject to that vice, though I should never have made it known. But since the fact has been declared by someone else, I am no longer able to deny the truth. I do it with regret, but it is true, nevertheless., And he adds : 4 It is a great pity, for he has good qualities in other respects ; but in that matter he is, to speak the truth, inexcusable.' 5. Having said these few words respecting a vice so full of malignity, let me return to my orderly exposition, and show who are they who are spoken of here as the upright, I suppose that there is no one of right intelligence

who imagines that it is ' uprightness ' in a bodily sense that is predicated of those who love the Bride, therefore it is to be explained of spiritual uprightness, that is, rectitude of heart and of mind. It is the Spirit who speaks, comparing spiritual things with spiritual. Therefore God * made man upright ' according to the mind, not according to the earthy and material body. For He created him in His own image and similitude (Gen. i. 27), and as you sing in the Psalms, The Lord our God is upright, and there is no unrighteousness in Him (Ps. xcii. 15). God, then, who is upright, made man upright and similar to Himself, that is to say, without unrighteousness, even as there is no unrighteousness in Him. Now, unrighteousness is a vice of the heart, not of the flesh, and from this you know that the likeness of God which you have is to be preserved, or to be restored, in the spiritual part of your nature, and not in its earthy and clayey part. For God is Spirit, and it behoves those who desire to become like Him, or to persevere in His likeness, to enter into their heart, and to employ themselves in the spirit in that blessed work; so that with open face, beholding

as in a glass the glory of the Lord, they may be changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord (2 Cor. iii. 18). 6. Perhaps it may be said, again, that God has bestowed upon man an upright stature in body also, so that this exterior and bodily uprightness, though of a lower kind, may admonish the inner man to Digitized by Google 147 preserve his spiritual uprightness, and the beauty of the perishable clay may rebuke the deformity of the mind ; for what can be more indecent than to bear a bent and deformed mind in an upright body?

It is a thing unfitting and shameful that a frame of clay, which is what our earthly body really is, should have its eyes raised on high, directed freely towards heaven, and taking pleasure to contemplate the great lights of the heavens ; but that the being of spiritual and heavenly nature should, on the contrary, have its eyes, that is, its inward senses and affections, drawn downwards towards the earth, and that which ought to be nourished upon golden and precious sustenance should be clinging to the soil, wallowing in filth, like an unclean swine. Blush with shame, O my soul, to have changed the Divine likeness for that of the brute ; and being of the heavens, to be wallowing in the mire. Blush with shame, O my soul, says our body, when you consider yourself and me. You were created upright and similar to your Creator, and you received me for a helper like unto yourself, at least, as far as the lineaments of bodily uprightness were concerned. Whithersoever you turn, whether it be to God above or to me below (for no man ever hated his own flesh), on every side meet you the various kinds of your own excellence; everywhere you have the familiar teachings of wisdom, bidding you preserve the nobleness and dignity of

the state in which you have been placed. Why, then, are you not stricken with shame for having lost your glorious prerogative, while I have preserved and retained mine, which I only received in order to be a companion and helper to you? Why shall the Creator have to behold His likeness obliterated in you, while He preserves yours in me, and it is always a representation of you ? But now you have turned that companionship and assistance, which was due to you from me, into a cause of confusion and shame ; you abuse the service which I render you ; and, as if you had become a brute and bestial spirit, treat unworthily the noble human body which you inhabit. 7. Souls which are thus bent and deformed are not capable of loving the Bride, because those who are lovers of the world are not of the Bridegroom. Whosoever will be a friend of I he world is, it is said, the enemy of God (James iv. 4). Therefore, to seek and to have a love for things which are on the earth is to bend down and deform the soul ; while, on the contrary, to think of, and to long for, the things which are above is its uprightness. And in order that this rectitude

may be perfect, it must exist first in the mind, and then pass into the life (in sensu et consensu).1 I should, in fact, call you upright if you crepancy in the old MSS. has thrown the early editioos into confusion. In those in which the lengthy introduction here given is wanting, we find the following reading : ' And this uprightness, that it may be perfect in all respects, must be first in the mind, then in the life. I should say that he is upright in heart who has right sentiments in all things, and whose actions differ in no respect from the right sentiments which he has felt. See of whom it is said to the Bride, " The upright love thee ": that is to say, those who know in all things what is right, and practise it accordDigitized by 148 think aright in all things, and your actions accord with your thoughts.

Let your faith and your actions declare the condition of your mind, which is invisible. Consider as upright him whom you have ascertained to be Catholic in faith and righteous in actions. If one of these two be wanting, do not hesitate to conclude that he is deficient in uprightness ; for you have in the Scripture : If thou offerest rightly, but dost not rightly divide, thou hast sinned (Gen. iv. 7). Whichsoever, indeed, of these two, faith and works, you offer to God, you do rightly ; but you do not rightly to divide either from the other.

Since you are right in offering, be not wrong in dividing. Why do you divide works from faith ? Wrongly are you dividing, and the division destroys your faith ; for faith without works is dead (James ii. 20). Will you offer to God a service that is dead ? For if devotion is as a kind of soul to faith, what is faith which does not work by love but a dead corpse ? Do you think to honour God with a gift that is foetid ? Do you think to please Him by being the murderer of your faith ? How can the offering be a cause of peace in which there is a discord so cruel ? It is not astonishing that Cain should have used murderous violence against his brother, when he had first slain faith in himself. Why do you wonder, O Cain, if He who despises you has no respect unto your offerings ? (Gen. iv. 5). Nor is it matter for surprise that He has no respect unto you who are so divided against yourself. If you give your hand to the duties of religion, why do you give your heart as a sacrifice to jealousy ?

While you are at discord with yourself, you cannot be at peace with God ; and so far from winning His favour, you offend against Him anew ; not, indeed, as yet by offering violence to your brother, but by wrongly dividing your own offering. Though not yet guilty of the death of your brother, you are of the death of your faith (fratricida, fideicida). Can you possibly suppose yourself to be upright, when, even while you stretch your hand to God, jealousy and hatred of your brother are bending your heart down to the earth ? while your faith is dead, while your works are but death, while your heart is without devotion, but filled with bitterness? Faith there was indeed in his offering, but no love in his faith ; a right oblation, but a cruel division of it. 8. Separation from charity is the death of faith. Do you believe in Christ ? do, then, His works, that your faith may continue living.

Let love animate your faith, and action prove its reality. Let not him be bowed to the earth by the works of earth, whom faith lifts up towards heavenly things. You who declare that you are abiding in Christ ought even so to walk as He walked. But if you seek your own glory, if you envy the prosperous, if you slander the absent, if ingly.' Then the sermon is concluded in these words : 4 May God gprant that we may be of those, and numbered with those who are loved by the Bridegroom, by the grace of the same Jesus Christ our Lord, who, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, liveth and reigneth, God for ever and ever. Amen.' But other MSS. prefer our reading. 1 Digitized by Google 149 you tender back evil for evil, you act quite otherwise than Christ acted. You confess that you know God, but in words you deny Him. You have acted not uprightly, but impiously, in thus giving your tongue to Christ, but your heart to the devil. Listen to the Saviour's words : This man Iionoureth me with his lips, but his heart is far from Me (Is. xxix. 13, and Matt. xv. 7). Assuredly you are not upright, who are so far from right in dividing your offering. You cannot lift up your head, for it is pressed down under the yoke of the devil. Iniquity rules over you, so that you cannot raise yourself, and stand upright. Your iniquities have gone over your head, as an heavy burden they are too heavy for thee (Ps. xxxviii. 4). As says the Prophet, Wickedness sits upon a talent of lead (Zech. v. 7). You see, then, that faith, which worketh not by love, even though it be right, does not make a man upright. But he who is without love is Hot able to love the Bride. Again, neither do works, however upright they be, suffice, without faith, to render the heart upright. For who can call a man upright, who is not pleasing to God ? But without faith it is impossible to please God (Heb. xi. 6). And he who does not please God is not able to find pleasure in God. But on the contrary, he who does please God cannot fail to find pleasure in Him.

Furthermore, he who finds no pleasure in God can find no pleasure either in [the Church, which is] His Bride. How, then, can a man be upright who loves neither God, nor the Church of God, of which it is said, The upright love thee ? If, then, neither faith without works, nor works without faith, are sufficient for uprightness of soul, let us, brethren, who believe in Christ, study to make the works of our hands and the desires of our hearts alike upright Let us lift up our hearts with our hands to God, that we may be found upright wholly ; approving by right actions the rectitude of our faith, that we may be lovers of the Bride, and beloved by the Bridegroom, our Lord Jesus Christ, who is God blessed for ever. Amen.

THAT THE BRIDE, NAMELY, THE CHURCH, IS BLACK, YET COMELY. I HAD already said in a former sermon that the Bride is obliged to reply to the attacks and reproaches of those who are envious of her glory, and who, while in the body they appear to be of the number of her maidens, are yet far removed from her in spirit. To them it is that she says : I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of ferusalem (i. 5). It is evident that they speak disparagingly of her, accusing her of being black. But consider her patience and gentleness. For not only has she not rendered railing for railing, but contrariwise has returned to them a blessing, calling them daughters Digitized by of Jerusalem, who had deserved for their wickedness to be called daughters of Babylon, or daughters of Baal, or whatever other name of reproach had come to her mind. Surely she had learned of the prophet, or rather from that anointing which teaches gentleness, not to break the bruised reed, nor to quench the smoking flax (Is. xlii. 3).

Therefore she considered that those who were already angry should not be still farther irritated by her, nor anything added to the stings of envy, by which they were tormented. On the contrary, she strove the more to be pacific with those who were enemies unto peace, knowing that she was debtor, even unto the unwise. She preferred, then, to soothe them by a courteous word, because it was her care rather to labour for the salvation of those weak ones, than for the gratification of her own vengeance. 2. That perfection is indeed to be desired for all; but especially does it befit those who would be good rulers in spiritual things. For those who are good and faithful pastors know that they are set over others in order to care for weak and languishing souls, not to live in pride and state. And when some of those committed to their charge utter murmurs, and perhaps even burst out into threats and violent words against them, they remember that they are not masters, but physicians of the soul ; and oppose at once to that spiritual madness, remedial and healing treatment, not harshness and punishment.

This, then, is the reason why the Bride calls those 'daughters of Jerusalem 1 whose ill-will and insulting words she is enduring, so as to soothe their murmurs by words full of sweetness, to compose their excitement, to heal their envy. It is written : A peaceful tongue appeaseth strife (Prov. xv. 18). Also these were, in fact, daughters of Jerusalem in a certain sense, nor does the Bride speak falsely in so naming them. For whether it be on account of the Sacraments of the Church, which they receive indifferently with the good ; or on account of their profession of a common Creed and Faith ; or the companionship which they have at least according to the body with the faithful ; or even because of the hope of their future salvation, which ought not to be altogether abandoned, even with regard to those who live in so abandoned a manner, as long as life is continued to them they are called, with good reason, daughters of Jerusalem. 3. Let us examine now that which is said : / am black, but comely.

Is not this a contradiction in terms ? By no means. I speak for the unlearned, who are unable to distinguish between colour and form — form is inherent in the composition of the thing spoken of ; colour is but a quality of it. Not everything, then, which is black, is necessarily on that account ill-favoured. For instance, blackness in the pupil of the eye is not unbecoming ; there are black gems which are highly prized in ornaments ; while black hair contrasted with a pale complexion augments the beauty and charm of a face.

You will easily notice the same thing in a great number of instances, and will find many things which are not otherwise than graceful in form, but of which the colour is not agreeable. That is perhaps the Digitized by Google THE BRIDE, NAMELY, THE CHURCH, IS BLACK, YET COMELY 151 case with the Bride, who is beautiful in form and features, though of dark, even black, complexion ; but, then, she is in the place of her pilgrimage. It shall be quite otherwise when the exalted Bridegroom shall present her to Himself a glorious Church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing (Eph. v. 27). But if she should say at the present time that she has no blackness of hue, she would deceive herself, nor would there be truth in her. Therefore do not wonder that when she has said / am black, she adds with words of modest confidence, but comely. How is it possible that she should not be beautiful, to whom it is said : Rise up, my fair one, and come away (ii. 10). But she to whom it was said * Come 9 had not yet arrived ; lest perhaps any should suppose that this was spoken, not to her while still toiling on her way, her countenance darkened with the

fierce rays of the sun ; but to her already in blessedness, reigning in glory, having left behind every trace of blackness or stain. . 4. In the next place, why does she say that, though black, she is at the same time beautiful ? She is black, perhaps on account of the life that she led formerly in the shadow, under the control of the prince of this world, in which she still bore the image of the earthly ; while she is beautiful with the image of the heavenly, with which, when afterwards she walked in newness of life, she was thenceforth invested. But if this is the case, why should she not say, as speaking of the past, ' I was black,' rather than, 1 1 am black ?' But if anyone is pleased with this sense of the words, then those which follow, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon, ought to be understood as referring, 4 Kedar,' to the former life, and * the curtains of Solomon ' to the new. It is of the skins, or tents, of Kedar that the prophet speaks, when he declares : Suddenly are my tents spoiled, and my curtains in a moment (Jer. iv. 20). The former word, black, describes the mean and ignoble tents

of Kedar ; the latter, comely, the curtains of the King of glory. 5. But let us see if both the one and the other do not refer better to the condition of the higher life. If we consider the exterior of those who are holy, how humble and. abject it is, how vile and neglected in outward appearance ; and yet, at the very same time they are inwardly contemplating with unveiled face the glory of the Lord, they are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord (2 Cor. iii. 18), does it not seem to you that each of these souls will be able to reply to those who reproach him with his blackness : / am black, but comely f Would you that I should show you a soul which was at the same time black and yet beautiful ?

His letters, say they, are weighty and powerful ; but his bodily presence is weak, and his speech contemptible (2 Cor. x. 10). This was Paul.

So you, O daughters of Jerusalem, form your judgment of Paul from his bodily presence, and you despise him as being black and repulsive because you perceive him to be a man of small stature, afflicted by hunger and thirst, by cold and nakedness, by many perils, by stripes above measure, by deaths oft (2 Cor. xi. 27, 23) ? These are the things which Digitized by Google [in your estimation] blacken Paul. For reasons like this the Doctor of the Gentiles is reputed inglorious and ignoble, obscure, black, and in one word, as it were, the offscouring of this world Nevertheless, is it not he who was caught up into Paradise, who, in his pureness of soul, passed through the first and the second heaven, and penetrated even to the third ? O soul truly most beautiful ! which, though inhabiting a body so weak and ailing, the heavenly glory did not scom to admit, the highest angels did not reject, even the Divine splendour did not repulse. This soul do you style ' black ' ? Black it is, but beautiful, O daughters of Jerusalem. Black according to your judgment, but beautiful in the judgment of God and of His angels. Even though it be black, it is only outwardly. But to him it is a very small thing that he should be judged by you, or by those who judge according to the outward appearance. For man indeed looketh on the outward appearance^ but the Lord looketh on the heart (1 Sam. xvi. 7).

If it be black without, it is, therefore, beautiful within, and pleasing to Him whom it has desired to please. It does not devote itself to be pleasing to you, knowing that if it did so it would not be the servant of Christ. Happy is the blackness which produces whiteness of soul,, the light of knowledge, purity of conscience. 6. Hear now what God promises by His prophet to those who are black after this fashion, whom either the humility of penitence or the zeal of charity, as it were the burning rays of the sun, seem to have robbed of outward fairness. Though your sins be as scarlet, saith the Lord, they shall be as white as snow : though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool (Is. i. 18). That outward blackness and disfigurement which appears in holy men is not to be contemned, for it produces inward whiteness, and prepares the soul to make wisdom its seat. For wisdom is the brightness of eternal life1 as the Wise man defines it ; and it is needful that the soul which it has chosen for its seat should be clear and white. But if the soul of the righteous is the seat of wisdom, then I may assert without hesitation that the soul of the righteous is clear and white ; perhaps even righteousness consists in this whiteness of soul. For Paul, for whom was laid up tlu crown of righteousness (2 Tim. iv. 8), was undoubtedly righteous. His soul, then, was white and clear ; in it wisdom dwelt, so that he spoke wisdom in a mystery among them that are perfect — the hidden wisdom, which none of the princes of this world knew (1 Cor. ii. 7, 8).

Moreover, it was that outward blackness and ruggedness, caused by a weak constitution of body, by many troubles and trials, by frequent watchings and fastings, which either produced in him, or rendered him deserving of, that brightness of wisdom and of righteousness. Therefore, that which was black in St. Paul was, in fact, a richer ornament to him than any degree of outward splendour, and than even royal magnificence. Not to be compared with him in essential for the passage cited reads 4 atertta of eternal light' — and I cannot discover any trace of a reading * vita? — Ed.

Digitized by Google THE BRIDE, NAMELY, THE CHURCH, IS BLACK, YET COMELY 153 comeliness are the greatest physical beauty, not the fair and polished skin, not the rose-tinted complexion, which must ere long be the prey of corruption, not the splendid dress, which grows old and tattered with time, nor the sparkle of gems, nor any things of that kind, which are, one and all, subject to corruption. 7. It is, then, with good reason that the saints, despising all unnecessary care and adorning of the outward man, which is corruptible, devote all their care and pains to cultivate and render fair that inward man which is in the likeness of God, and is being renewed from day to day. For they are well assured that nothing can be more acceptable to God than His own image if it be restored to its original beauty. It is for that reason that all their glory is inward, not outward : that is to say, it consists not in the flower of the field, or in the praises of the people, but in the Lord. Therefore they say, Our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience (2 Cor. i. 12) ; and of their conscience the sole judge is God, whom alone they desire to please ; and to please Him is, in their eyes, the true, and only, and highest glory. Nor, certainly, is this inward glory small, since the Lord of glory deigns thus to be glorified, as it is said in the Psalm, The King's daughter is all glorious within (Ps. xlv. 13). It is also safer than any other glory, since each person has it in himself and not in another. And it may be that not the inward brightness only, but the outward blackness also, is a reason for glory, since there is nothing useless in the saints, but all things work together for their good.

They glory, therefore, not only in hope, but also in tribulations. Most gladly, therefore, says the Apostle, will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me (2 Cor. xii. 9). That infirmity is, in truth, to be desired which is compensated for by the power of Christ. Who will grant unto me, not merely to have infirmities, but even to fall into extreme weakness and helplessness, that I may be recovered and made strong by the strength of Him who is the Lord of all power and strength ? For His strength is made perfect in weakness. For, he continues, when I am weak, then am / strong (2 Cor. xii. 9, 10). 8. This being so, the Bride has good ground for counting that as a glory to herself which by her envious rivals is blamed as a deformity, and to boast not only of her beauty, but also of her blackness. She does not blush for that blackness, which she knows that her Spouse in former days likewise bore, for it makes her like unto Him ; and what glory can be so great ? For she assuredly regards no distinction as being so high as this, to bear the reproach of Christ. And this makes her say with joy and gladness : God forbid that I should glory, save in the Cross of Our Lord fesus Christ (Gal. vi. 14). The very reproach of the Cross is welcome to him who is not ungrateful to the Crucified. It is, so to speak, a blackness, but a blackness which is the form and likeness of the Lord Jesus. Go to holy Isaiah, and he will describe to you the form and spirit in which you are to view Him. For is it not He of whom the Prophet says : He is a Man of Digitized by Google *54 Sorroivs, and acquainted with grief ; and that He. hath no form nor comeliness ? And he has added : We did esteem Him as one wlw is a leper, as smitten of God and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities ; and with His stripes we are healed (Is. liii. 3-5, Vulg.). See what has rendered Him black.

Add to this what David has said : Thou art fairer than the children of men (Ps. xlv. 2), and you will find in the Bridegroom all that the Bride has declared of Him in this passage. 9. Does it not seem to you that, according to what has been said, He was able to reply rightly to the envious Jews : 1 1 am black, but comely, O ye sons of Jerusalem ?' He was truly black, who had no form nor comeliness ; black, because He was a worm and no man, a reproach of men, and despised of the people (Ps. xxii. 6). Lastly, He even caused Himself to be made sin [for us] (2 Cor. v. 21), and shall I fear to say that He is black ? Behold Him ! covered with rags, livid with stripes, defiled with spitting, pale with the pallor of death ; can you even then hesitate to confess that He is black? But ask of the Apostles how they saw Him on the mount [of Transfiguration] ; learn of the angels [all the perfection of Him] upon whom they yearn to look, and you will declare in wonder and admiration that He is indeed beautiful. He is, then, beautiful in Himself; His blackness is on thy account. O Lord Jesus, how perfect and adorable, even though Thou art clad in my human form, is Thy beauty to me ! Not only because of the wonders of Divine power with which Thou dost shine on every side, but because of Thy righteousness, Thy kindness, and Thy truth. Blessed is he who, considering diligently Thy life and actions as a Man dwelling among men, sets himself with all his endeavours to imitate Thee to the utmost. This blessed gift, the lirst-fruits of her dowry, she [Thy Church] who is Thy fairest and best beloved, has already received ; nor is she either slow to imitate that which is most beautiful in Thee, or ashamed to endure those sufferings of which the blackness is upon Thee. Therefore, it was that she said : / am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem.

Therefore, also, she adds the comparison, As the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon. But that is a saying difficult and obscure, and not to be even attempted by those who are wearied. You have time to knock hereafter at that door. If you do so with sincere hearts, He who is the Revealer of mysteries will appear : nor will He who invites you to knock delay to open. For it is He who openeth, and no man shutteth — the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ Our Lord, who is blessed for ever and ever. Amen.

Digitized by Google ST. BERNARD LAMENTS THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER GERARD 155 ST. BERNARD LAMENTS THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER GERARD. /§ S the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon. We must begin from this point, since it was here that we left off in the last Sermon. I know that you are expecting to hear what these words signify, and what relation they have to those which precede them, since they are used by way of comparison ; for it may be said that they are so connected, that the two parts of the comparison refer only to the first half of the sentence which precedes it : ' / am black] or, again, that the two parts of the comparison refer respectively to the two sentences which precede them, each to each. The former sense is the more simple, the latter the more obscure.

But let us try each of them, and that which is the more difficult first ; for it is not in the two former, but in the two latter words of each clause that there is any difficulty. For ' Kedar, ' which means ness,2 but ' curtains of Solomon ' not so well with that of fairness or beauty. Then, who does not see that ' tents ' falls, nevertheless, into the same interpretation? What are these tents, in fact, but the bodies in which we perform our pilgrimage ? For we have here no continuing city, but we seek one to come (Heb. xiii. 14). Furthermore, we have a warfare to carry on in them, as soldiers have in tents ; for we have, as men violent, to take the kingdom of heaven by force (Matt. xi. 12). For the life of man upon earth is a warfare (Job. vii. i, Vulg. and Douay), and as long as we combat in this body, we are exiled from the presence of the Lord, that is, from the light ; for the Lord is Light, and insomuch as anyone is not with Him, he is in darkness, that is, in Kedar. Let him recognise as his that lamentable exclamation : Woe is me I that I sojourn in Mesech, that I dwell in the tents of Kedar I My soul hath long dwelt with him that hateth peace (Ps. cxx. 5, 6). This, then, is the abode which we have in the body ; not the home of a citizen, or the domicile of one native-born, but either the tent of a soldier, or the temporary lodging of a traveller. This body, I repeat, is a tent, the tent of Kedar, because it surrounds the soul, and deprives it now for awhile of the enjoyment of the infinite Light, nor suffers it even to behold that Light, except, as it were, in a glass and darkly, but not face to face (1 Cor. xiii. 12). our author ; but such is apparently the case here. Kedar (TJi?.) means, according to Gesenius, * black skin,' or * black -skinned man ' (it is the collective patronymic of the Arabs), and therefore answers literally to the appellation of * black ' in verse 4.— Ed.

Digitized by Google 2. Do you see whence comes the blackness which is upon the Church, and how it is that some stains of rust and mould are upon even the fairest souls ? It is from the tents of Kedar, from the pursuit of a laborious warfare, from the long duration of an unhappy existence, from the hardships of a suffering and calamitous exile, from the body, in fact, which is both burdensome and weak ; for the corruptible body presseth down the soul, and the earthy tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon many things (Wisd. ix. 15). Wherefore souls desire to be dissolved, that, being delivered from the body, they may depart (avolent) into the embrace of Christ. Therefore one of these unhappy souls, lamenting, said : O miserable man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the body of this death ? (Rom. vii. 24). For such a soul is aware that in the tents of Kedar it is not possible to be entirely exempt from spot and wrinkle, or from some degree of blackness, and therefore it desires to go forth from the body that it may be free from all these defects. And this is why the Bride has said that she is black as the tents of Kedar.

But how is she beautiful as the curtains of Solomon ? There is somewhat sublime and sacred wrapped up in the veil of these words, but I know not what it is, and scarcely dare to approach it at all, except at the good pleasure of Him who has hidden and sealed the mystery. I have, in fact, read that * he who is a searcher of [the Divine] majesty shall be overwhelmed with its glory ' (Prov. xxv. 27, Vulg.). This, therefore, I pass over and defer to another time. Let it be your care in the meantime to obtain for me this grace by your prayers, as you are accustomed to do, so that I may return more willingly, because with a greater degree of confidence, to that subject which needs the greatest attention. And perhaps one who knocks piously at the door will attain what the rash theorist can never reach.

And besides, my grief, and the pain which I am enduring, compels me to come to an end. 3. For how long shall I dissemble and hide the fire which is within me, which consumes my sad heart, which feeds upon my vitals P1 Berengarius, that impudent disciple of Abaelard, reproaches the writer for it unjustly, declaring that * he made an unsuitable mingling of sorrow with joy.' Again, he objects that St. Bernard 4 had borrowed, word for word, certain lines of the funeral oration made by St. Ambrose upon the death of his brother Satyrus.' Now, those lines are not found at all in that oration ; nor if they were, would the fact fumish any charge against St. Bernard. It will be well to cite the two passages referred to by him. This is the first : * My brother has quitted this life ; or, to speak more correctly, has quitted death for life. Yes, my brother, who was the standard of conscience, the mirror of a holy character, the bond of religion^ has left us. Who will show more ardour in labour ? Who will comfort better the affliction of those in trouble T The other is this : ' The ox seeks for his companion ox, and when he finds himself alone, gives proof, by his frequent lowing, of the tender attachment which he feels. Yes, even the ox requires the companion with whom he is accustomed to draw the plough with laborious neck.' The latter passage is, in fact, found at the end of the opening of the oration in St. Ambrose ; neither the one nor the other in Bernard. It is true that, in order to escape the charge of falsehood or deception, Berengarius prefixes the words * if I do not mistake. ' Digitized by Google ST. BERNARD LAMENTS THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER GERARD 157 Though closely concealed, it rages the more fiercely, and does not cease to spread. What have I to do with this song of joy, who am myself in bitterness of soul ? The vehement power of grief interrupts my purpose, and the indignation of the Lord drinks up my spirit ; for he, by whose means my studies in the [ways of the] Lord were wont to be wholly free, has been taken away, and with him my very heart has left me. But hitherto I have put constraint upon my soul, and have concealed my feelings, lest affection should seem to overcome faith.

While others are weeping, I, as you may have observed, followed with dry eyes1 the sad funeral train, and with dry eyes stood at the grave, until all the funeral services were performed. With my own lips I, clad in my priestly robes, completed the customary prayers for him, and with my own hands cast the earth, according to custom, upon the body, soon to become earth, of my beloved. Those who beheld me wept, and wondered that I did not weep also, since all commiserated, not him indeed, but me who had lost him ; for whose heart, though it were of iron, would not be moved at my condition, at seeing me surviving my Gerard ? The loss was common to all, but, in comparison with my individual trouble, it was not considered.

But as for me, I resisted my feelings, with whatever force of faith I could command, striving not to be moved uselessly by this allotment of nature, this payment of the common debt due by all men, this customary incident of our mortal condition, brought about by the will of the Almighty, by the judgment of the Just One, by the stroke of Him who is to be feared, in a word, by the will of the Lord. In this way I then, and afterwards, constrained myself to refrain from the indulgence of much weeping, however sorrowful I was and full of trouble. I was able to command my tears, but not my sorrow, and, as it is written : I was so troubled that I could not speak (Vs. lxxvii. 4). But my grief, thus suppressed, shot deeper roots into my heart, and became, as I feel, the more bitter, because it was allowed no expression.

I am overcome, I confess, and what I suffer inwardly must come forth to the light. Let it come forth, then, to the eyes of my children, who, knowing the greatness of my loss, will pardon the excess of my grief, and be the more moved kindly to console me. 4. You know, my children, how well founded is my grief, how great and how painful my wound ; for you are well aware how faithful a companion was he who has now left my side, in the way wherein I was walking, how vigilant, laborious, cheerful, and agreeable. Who was so peculiarly necessary to me ? By whom was I equally beloved ? He was my brother by blood, but still more closely related to me in religion. Mourn for my sad lot, I entreat you, to whom these things are known. I was weak in body, and he sustained me ; I was of feeble spirit, and he strengthened me ; I was slothful and negligent, and he urged me on ; improvident and forgetful, and he reminded me of my duty. Wherefore art thou thus torn from me ? the last duties to any Religious without weeping.

Digitized by Google Why art thou thus snatched from my hands, O man of one mind with me, man after my own heart ? We loved each other in life ; why in death are we separated ? A most bitter separation indeed, which Death only could have wrought ! For when did he living ever desert me ? It is a terrible sundering, the work of Death alone !

Who would not have spared the sweet tie of our mutual affection, except Death, the enemy of all that is sweet ? Ah, that is truly called death which, by snatching away one of us, has slain two at one blow ! Is not his death mine also? It is, in fact, death for me even more than for him, since that which remains to me of life is more painful to me than all the deaths in the world. I live that I may endure a living death ; and shall I call that life ? You would have treated me more mercifully, O cruel Death, in depriving me of the use of life, than of the only fruit to be derived from it ; for life without fruit is more bitter than death. A twofold doom is preparing for the barren tree ; the axe and the fire (Matt. iii. 10). Thou wert envious of my labours, and hast withdrawn from me my nearest relative and my friend, whose care was the principal cause of the fruit (if any) which followed them. It would have been far better for me to be deprived of my life, than of thy presence, my dear Gerard, who by thy zeal urged me on in my labours for the Ix>rd, who wert

a faithful1 helper and a cautious adviser. Why, I ask, have we loved, or have we lost ? It is a hard condition, but my lot, not his, is the one to be pitied. For thou, dear brother, if thou hast lost those who are dear to thee, hast regained those who are dearer still. But what consolation remains for me, unhappy, after the loss of thee, my only (um'cum) comfort ? The society in the body which was between us was agreeable equally to each of us, because of the union of our hearts ; but I alone feel the wound of our separation. That which was peaceful and sweet in our friendship belonged to us both ; that which is sad and sorrowful has fallen to me alone ; upon me has the wrath of God fallen, upon me is His anger weighing. To both of us equally were the welcome presence, the sweet companionship, the interesting conversation ; but I alone have wholly lost these delights ; you have but exchanged them for others still better, and assuredly you have gained much by the change. 5. How great, then, is the recompense of joys and blessings uncounted which thou, O dearest brother, hast received for the loss of me ! You have assuredly, in exchange for me

who am of so little worth, the everlasting Presence of Christ ; nor do ypu feel any loss in your absence from me, since you are blended with the Choirs of Angels. You have, then, no reason to complain that my presence has been taken from you, since the Lord of Glory has deigned to give unto you abundantly of His Presence, and of that of His blessed ones. But what have I in exchange for thee ? How greatly could I wish to know what feeling thou hast now for me, once the object of thy dearest affection, now wavering under cares and pains, and deprived Digitized by Google ST. BERNARD LAMENTS THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER GERARD 1 59 of thy support which used to sustain my weakness ; if it is permitted to thee still to give any thought to us unhappy ones, now that thou hast entered into the depth of light, and art absorbed in that great ocean of everlasting felicity ! For perhaps, even though thou hast known me according to the flesh, thou knowest me no more now ; and because thou hast entered into the sphere of the power and majesty of the Lord, thou art conscious of His righteousness only, and art unmindful of me. But he that is joined unto

the Lord is one spirit (i Cor. vi. 17) with Him, and is wholly transformed into a certain feeling of the Divine presence ; he can no longer have thought or taste but for God only, and that which he thinks of, or desires, is God alone — he is, in fact, filled with God. But God is Love ; and the more closely anyone is united to God, the more filled is he with love. Although God is impassible, He is not incapable of compassion ; and it is His especial attribute always to have pity and to spare. Therefore it must necessarily be that you, my dear brother, should be pitiful, because you are joined unto Him who is Pity itself. Although you can no longer feel any unhappiness, although you can no longer suffer, yet you can still feel for the sufferings of others. Your affection, then, is not diminished, but changed ; nor, in putting on God, have you put off all sympathy for us,1 for He, too, careth for us (1 Peter v. 7). You have put off all that was weak, but not all that was charitable, for Charity never faileth (1 Cor. xiii. 8), and you will not forget me for ever. 6. I seem to hear my brother, as it were, saying

: Can a mother forget . . . the son of fur womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee (Is. xlix. 15). I have much need that it should be so. You know in what state you left me, how I totter even to falling ; I have none to give me a helping hand. In every new need which occurs, I look to Gerard, as I had been accustomed to do, and he is not here.

Then, unhappy as I am, I sigh and groan, as one without help. Whom shall I consult in difficult matters? to whom have recourse in troubles? Who will bear my burdens ? who put to flight dangers ? Were not the eyes of my Gerard wont to direct2 my steps everywhere? Was not your breast, my brother, more familiar with my cares than even my own, you who bore them more than I, and felt them more acutely Was there not upon your lips speech so winning and persuasive that you were constantly able to relieve me from the burden of worldly conversation, and to restore me to my beloved silence ? The Lord had bestowed upon him judgment and discretion, so that he knew when and how to speak. He gave such satisfaction by the prudence of his replies, through the grace given unto him from above, both to those of the house and to strangers, that if anyone had conferred with ances of Gerard after his death, related in the * Life of St. Bernard,' Bk. iv., c. 2, //. 10 ; and Bk. v., c. 3, n. 18. performed by him (l Life,' Bk. i., c. 9, //. 43).

Digitized by Gerard, he had scarcely anything to ask of me. He did, indeed, go to meet new-comers, and put himself in their way, that they might not break in suddenly upon my leisure. If he was unable to satisfy any by himself, those he conducted to me, and the others he sent away. O man of marvellous industry ! O faithful friend ! He sought to please his friend, and he was not wanting, at the same time, in the duties of charity. Who departed from him with empty hands ? If it were a rich man, he carried away advice ; if a poor, substantial help. Nor could he, who burdened himself with so many cares that I might be free from them, be said to seek the things which were his own. For he, being, in truth, the most humble of men, hoped that my leisure would be of more value to the house than his would be. Yet sometimes he required that he might be released from his task, and give way to another, as if someone else would perform it better than he.

But where was such an one to be found ? Nor was he kept in office, as is often the case, by an impatient and restless disposition, but by the mere impulse of charity. For he used to labour more than all others, and to receive less than any ; so that often while he ministered things necessary — for example, food and clothing— to others, he himself was in many respects in need of them. Lastly, when he felt that he was drawing near his departure, lifting up his voice to God, he said : ' Thou knowest, O God, that as in me lay, I always longed for quiet, for the care of my own soul, and to be occupied with Thee only. But 1 have been retained in the cares of duties by the fear of displeasing Thee, by the will of the brethren, by the desire to obey, and, above all, by the brotherly affection which I bore to him who is at once my abbot and my brother.' So it is. I render thanks, then, to thee, O my brother, for every result of my studies in Divine truth, if they have produced any. If I have made any progress in them, if I have been of service to any, it is to thee I owe it Thou didst charge thyself with the care of the affairs of the house ; and I, thanks to thee, was able to sit at leisure, or, at least, to occupy myself more sacredly with the duties to which God called me, or to devote myself more usefully to my sons [in the faith] with their instruction and training. For how could I be otherwise than in peace of mind within, while I knew that thou wert busied without — thou who wert my right hand, the light of my eyes, my heart, and my tongue ? And, indeed, thy hand was tireless, thine eye candid and straightforward, thine heart full of wisdom, and thy tongue gave wise counsel, as it is written : The mouth of the righteous speaketh wisdom, and his tongue talketh of judgment (Ps. xxxvii. 30). 7. But why have I said that Gerard was busied without, as if he were unacquainted with the inner life, and a stranger to spiritual gifts?

Those spiritually-minded persons who knew him, knew that his words were full of the Holy Spirit. Those of his chamber knew that his mind and his affections savoured not of the flesh, but were warmed by the fire of the Spirit. Who more rigid than he in the observance of the Rule? who more strict in the mastery (castigando) of his body, Digitized by Google ST. BERNARD LAMENTS THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER GERARD l6l more absorbed and elevated in contemplation, or more keen and penetrating in discourse ? How often, in discussion with him, I have learned things which I knew not ! and I, who had come to instruct others, have returned myself instructed. Nor is it wonderful that this was the case with me, since eminent and learned men have testified to me that the very same thing had taken place with them also when with him. Though he had not acquired human learning, he had sound and powerful intelligence, enabling him to divine many of its truths ; and he had also the illuminating Spirit. Nor was he very accomplished in the greatest things alone, but also in the smallest.

What was there which escaped his skill and knowledge — for example, in all that relates to buildings, in the culture of land and of gardens, in works for water, and in all the other arts and labours of country people? He was easily the director of masons, of smiths, of agriculturists, of gardeners, of shoemakers, and even of weavers. Whilst in the judgment of all he was wiser than any, in his own eyes alone he was not wise. Would that the malediction which we find in Scripture, Woe unto them that are wise in their own eyes (Is. v. 21), did not touch many far less wise than he more than it touched him !

Those to whom I speak know that what I say of him is true, and even much more than I have said. But I pass over many things, because he is my brother and my flesh. Yet this one thing I add in entire assurance : he was useful to me in all things, and beyond all other men ; he was of use in small things and great, in private affairs and public, in the monastery and out of it. It was with good reason that I was wholly attached to him, who was everything to me. He left to me the honour and name of Superior, and but little beyond, for the labours of that office he used to discharge. I was called Abbot, but he was so in effect, for he took upon him all the cares of that charge.

Rightly did I rest upon him, by whose means it was that I was able to rejoice in the Lord, to preach and to pray with greater freedom and security from interruption. It was by thy means, O my brother, I repeat, that my mind was less disturbed, my rest more agreeable, my discourse more efficacious, my preaching fuller of edification, my reading more frequent, and the affections of my heart more fervent. 8. Alas ! thou hast been taken from me, and all these things with thee. With thee have passed away all the joys, and all the gladness, of my life. Already cares are breaking in upon me, already anxieties, hitherto unknown, press upon me on ail sides, difficulties and annoyances from every quarter seek me, because I am alone ; in going from me, these are all thou hast left me, and under this burden I groan without a companion. I must of necessity lay it down, or be crushed under it, since you have withdrawn your shoulders from its support Who will grant unto me speedily, after thee, to die? For to die instead of thee, and so to deprive thee of the glory which thou art now enjoying, this I should not wish to have done. I shall live, as long as I live, in bitterness and in sorrow ; and let this be my only consolation, to mourn and to be afflicted. I will not spare myself ; 11 Digitized by i6?.

I will assist the Lord's Hand ; for it is the Hand of the Lord that hath touched me. It is I, 1 say, whom He hath touched, whom He hath wounded ; not him whom He hath called into rest : for He hath slain me in cutting short the days of my brother. For who could say that the Lord hath slain him, whom He hath caused to enter into life ? But that which has been to him the gate of life has manifestly been to me the gate of death ; and by that death I should say that I am the person dead, not he who has fallen asleep in the Lord. Flow forth, flow forth, ye tears, long since brimming over; flow forth, since he who would have hindered your course has himself gone forth from this life ! Let the torrents of my suffering head be opened, and the fountains of waters burst forth, if perchance they may suffice to wash away the stains of those sins by which I have deserved the wrath of God ! When the Lord shall have had compassion upon me, then perhaps I, too, shall deserve to be consoled, provided that I do not spare to afflict myself ; for they that mourn shall be comforted (Matt.

v. 4). Therefore let every good man condescend to me, and let him who is spiritual uphold me in my sorrow, in the spirit of sympathy and gentleness. Let my grief be regarded, I entreat, with compassion, and not after the manner of men. For we see day by day that those who are dead lament for their dead ; but in what manner ? There is with them much weeping, but no fruit. We do not blame their distress aud grief, unless it be excessive, but the cause of it. Affection is from nature, and the distress which it causes us is a part of the penalty of sin ; but the cause is vanity and sin. For in the world what is lamented, if I do not mistake, is the deadly injury inflicted [by death] upon carnal glory, and upon the advantages of the present life. And those who weep thus are themselves to be wept for. Surely that is not the case with me ? My grief is similar to theirs, but the cause is different, and the intention of it quite unlike their intention. I do not complain at all of the loss of the things of this world. What I grieve for is only that I have lost faithful help and salutary counsel in those

things which belong to God. It is my Gerard for whom I mourn — Gerard, my brother according to the flesh, nearer still to me in the spirit, and in the work and purpose of my life ever my companion and associate. 9. My soul clung closely to his, and it was rather unity of sentiment than unity of blood which made ' us two to be one. Our nearness of blood counted, no doubt, for something; but it was companionship of mind and will, conformity of character and inclination, which united us more closely still. Since we were of one heart and of one soul, the sword [of death] has passed through my soul equally as through his ; but having severed them, it has placed one part in heaven, but left the other in the mire of earth. It is I, it is I, who am that unhappy portion which is left prostrate in the clay, mutilated by the loss of the better part of itself ; and yet people say to me: ' Do not weep.' My very bowels are torn away ; and it is Digitized by Google ST. BERNARD LAMENTS THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER GERARD 1 63 said to me, ' Do not feel any pain.1 But I do feel pain, and that in

spite of myself ; I have not the insensibility of a stone, nor is my flesh of bronze ; I have feeling assuredly, and sharp pain, and my trouble is ever in my sight. He who has stricken me will not be able to accuse me of hardness and want of sensibility, as those of whom He said : 1 have stricken them, but they have not grieved (Jer. v. 3, but quoted inexactly). I have confessed my great affliction, and denied it not. Someone has called this carnal ; I do not deny that it is human, just as I do not deny that I am a man.

If that does not suffice, then I shall not deny that it is carnal. For I also am carnal, and one sold under sin, destined to death, and justly deserving of punishments and pains. Far from being insensible to penalties, I shudder at death, I confess, for myself and for those who are dear to me. And Gerard was not only mine, but was very dear. Was he noc plainly mine, who by blood was my brother, by profession my son [in the faith], my father for the care he had of me, my companion and colleague in character and wishes, as in affection he was most intimate and dear ? He has departed from my side : and I feel that his death has inflicted upon me a deep and terrible wound. 10. Forgive me, my sons ; or rather, if you are my sons, lament for the trouble of your father. Pity me, pity me, you at least who are my friends, who take notice how heavy is the stroke which I have received from the hand of the Lord for my sins. He has stricken me with the rod of His indignation : justly, in regard of my deserts ; but severely, in regard of my power to bear it. Who, except one who is ignorant by

what bonds of affection Gerard and I were united, would suppose it a light thing to me to live without Gerard ? Nevertheless, I do not desire to oppose at all the decrees (scrmonibus) of the Holy One ; I do not call in question His judgment, by which each one is caused to receive that which he deserves : Gerard, the crown which he has merited; and I, the punishment which is due to me. Is it reasonable to declare that I call in question the sentence because I feel the penalty keenly ? To feel is human, but to repine would be impious. It is human, I repeat, and unavoidable, that we should not be indifferent to those who are our friends ; that we should enjoy their presence, and lament its being taken from us. Social intercourse, particularly among friends, will not be tedious ; the reluctance to separate, and the pain which is felt by each when separated, shows plainly the effect that their mutual affection has had upon those who live together. I grieve on thy account, my dearest Gerard, not because thy condition is to be regretted, but because thou art taken away. And, therefore, perhaps it is my condition rather, I who drink the cup of bitterness, which calls for regret; and still

more, because I drink it alone. For thou hast no part in it, and I endure alone what those who have a mutual affection are accustomed to endure equally when deprived of the presence of each other.

Digitized by 164 11. May God grant that thou mayst not be lost to me, but only have gone before me, and that I may one day, whether soon or late, follow thee whithersoever thou hast gone. I do not doubt at all that thou hast gone to join those whom in the midst of thy last night on earth thou didst invite to praise God, when with a serene countenance and a voice of joy thou didst burst forth on a sudden, to the great astonishment of all, into that Psalm of David : Praise ye the Lord from the heavens, praise Him in the heights (Ps. cxlviii. 1). While it was still midnight, my brother, the day was dawning1 for thee, and the night was asclear as the day. Assuredly that night was full of delights for thee, and it brought thee into the Light. I was summoned to witness that miracle, to see a man exulting in the hour of death, and scorning its approach. O Death, where is thy victory ? any longer, but a song of praise and victory. For a man dies while singing, and sings while dying. Thou who art the mother of sorrow art taken as a subject for joy ; thou, the enemy of glory, as an occasion for glory ; thou, who art the gate of hell and the gulf of perdition, as the portal of the kingdom of God and the entrance into salvation ; and all this by a man who is a sinner. This, too, is justly done, since thou hast rashly and unjustly usurped dominion over One who is a Righteous Man and Blameless. O Death, thou art thyself dead, and pierced with the hook which thou hast incautiously swallowed, of which thus speaks the Prophet : O Death, (Hosea xiii. 14). Pierced, I say, with that hook, thou shalt open a broad and joyful passage into life for those faithful ones who pass through thee. Gerard does not fear thee, O shadowy phantom!

Gerard passes through thy jaws to his heavenly fatherland, not merely with security, but with joy and thanksgiving. When, then, I had come to him, and he had finished in my hearing, with a loud voice, the last verses of the Psalm which he had begun, looking up to heaven, he said : Father, into Thy Hands I commend My spirit (Luke xxiii. 46). And repeating often the same sentence, and pronouncing again and again Father, Father, he turned unto me and said, with a joyful countenance : ' How great is the condescension of God in being the Father of men ! and how great the glory of men to be the sons and the heirs of God ! For if they are sons, they are also heirs.' So he whom we are lamenting sang when about to die : and I confess that he changed my grief almost into a song of joy, because, my mind being fixed upon the glory which was before his vision, I almost forgot my own unhappiness. 12. But the sharp pang of my grief recalls me to myself, and the pressure of care arouses me from the thought of that sweet and peaceful spectacle, as one rises from a light slumber. Let me mourn, then, but for myself, for reason forbids that I should mourn on his account. I believe, indeed, that, were occasion afforded him, he Digitized by Google ST. BERNARD LAMENTS THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER GERARD 165 would say to us now : ' Weep not for me, but for yourselves/ David was right to weep over his parricidal son (2 Sam. xix. 1), because he knew that, on account of the enormity of his crime, his issue from the power of death was for ever hindered. He was right to mourn over Saul and over Jonathan (2 Sam. i. 17), because, when they were once swallowed up by death, that they should emerge from it was not then within the bounds of hope.1 And certainly they shall rise again, but not to life ; or if to life, then in order that living they should die by a death still more calamitous. It is true that, with regard to Jonathan, there may be ground for a doubt ; but in my case I have still a reason for my grief, though it be not the same reason.

I grieve, first, for my own trouble, and for the loss which this house has sustained ; secondly, I grieve on account of the necessities of the poor, of whom Gerard was the father. I grieve on account of our whole Order, and of our profession,- which derived no small strength from thy example of zeal and wisdom, O Gerard ; and lastly, I grieve, not indeed for thee, but for the loss of thee. Yes, this — this is what wounds me so deeply, because I love thee so devotedly. And let no one trouble me by saying that I am wrong thus to afflict myself, since the kind-hearted Samuel mourned without restraint over his abandoned King, and the devout David over his parricidal son, and that without wronging their faith, or calling in question the Divine judgment. ' Absalom, my son, my son Absalom P said holy David (2 Sam. xviii. 33), and is not my brother more than Absalom? The Saviour, too, when looking upon the city of Jerusalem, of which He foresaw the destruction, wept over it (Luke xix. 41). And shall I have no feeling of my own bereavement, and that so recent ? Shall I not groan over a wound so fresh and so deep ? He wept over the sorrows of others, and shall I not dare to weep over my own?

Assuredly He did not at the sepulchre of Lazarus either rebuke t'iose who were weeping, or forbid them to weep ; and even more than this, He wept with them, for it is said, Jesus wept (John xi. 35). Those tears were, it is certain, the evidences of His Humanity, not the signs .of his disapproval (diffidentice = distrust). Moreover, at His Voice the dead man came forth from the tomb ; so that you must not imagine that a person cannot yield to grief without prejudice to his faith. 13. It is thus with my tears also. They are not a sign of unbelief, but an indication of our human condition ; nor because, when stricken, I moan, do I therefore accuse Him who strikes ; I rather call upon His goodness, and endeavour to turn aside His severity. Thus, though my words are full of grief, there is no murmuring in them. Have I not expressed a feeling full of righteousness in acknowledging that in one most equitable sentence He hath both punished one who deserved punishment, and crowned one who was But other fathers and commentators assert that he is in blessedness. There is a slight variation here between the MSS. and editions. See Horst's note.

Digitized by worthy of reward ? Yes, the Lord is kind and righteous, and He has done everything well. I will sing to Thee, O Lord of mercy and judgment. Let the mercy which Thou hast shown unto Thy servant Gerard sing to Thee and praise Thee, and let the judgment also sing, which we ourselves are bearing. In the one Thou shalt be praised because Thou art good, in the other because Thou art righteous. Is praise due to Thee for Thy goodness alone ? It is due also for Thy righteousness. Righteous art Thou, O Lord, and upright are Thy judgments (Ps. cxix. 137). Thou hast given Gerard ; Thou hast taken Gerard away ; and though we grieve for the loss of him, we are not forgetful that he was given to us ; we render thanks that we have been deemed worthy to possess him, and our reluctance to be without his presence is wholly in submission to Thy Divine will. 14. I call to mind, O Lord, my covenant with Thee, and the pity Thou hadst upon me, that Thou»mightest be the more justified in Thy saying, and clear when Thou art judged. For when I was at Viterbo1 last year on the business of the Church my brother Gerard was taken with serious illness, and the attack increased upon him until it seemed as if God were about to call him to Himself. I was unable to bear the thought of losing my travelling companion and being left alone in a strange land, nor, again, of not being able to restore him safe to those who had entrusted him to me ; for he was so engaging, that he was loved by all. In this distress I betook myself to prayer with tears and sobs. ' Lord/ I cried, * wait until my return. If Thou wiliest to take him away from me, let it be when he is restored to his friends, and I will not complain.' And Thou didst hear my prayer, O Lord : he recovered ; we accomplished the work that Thou hadst given us to do, and we returned with joy, bringing with us the sheaves of peace. And then I became almost entirely forgetful of the compact which I had made with Thee, but so wast not Thou.

I am ashamed of these sobs of grief, which accuse me of going from my word. What can be added to this ? Thou hast required again the treasure which was Thine, which Thou hadst committed to us for awhile, and hast received it. But tears again put an end to my words. Do Thou, O Lord, impose a limit to my tears, and bring them to an end. as we learn from his Letter 151 (vol. ii., p. 479, of Eng. Ed.), the latter in 1 137 ; and it is that which is mentioned here. Digitized by Google 167

OF THE ADORNMENT OF THE BRIDE: AND IN WHAT SENSE THE NOW that we have rendered the last offices of affection to our dear friend on his return to his [heavenly] country, I resume, brethren, the purpose of edification which was thus interrupted : for it is incongruous to continue long lamenting one who is in joy and gladness, and out of place to trouble with many tears one who is sitting at a banquet ; and although we may, with weeping, deplore our own loss, it behoves us to do even that with moderation, so that it may not seem to be the case that it is not so much the loss of our friend as of his service to us that we deplore. The grief of those who are bereaved should be tempered by the joy of the beloved one who is its object, and that he is with God should make it more easy to bear the fact that he is no longer with us. I desire, then, relying on the support of your prayers, to bring to light, if I am able, the sense which is hidden under those passages of our Song in which the beauty and adornments of the Bride are spoken of. This, if you remember, was touched upon, but left undiscussed ;

all that was examined and concluded having been the sense in which she was said to be black as the tents of Kedar. In what way, then, is she comely as the curtains of Solomon ? as if Solomon, in all his glory, had had anything of equal worthiness to the beauty of the Bride, and the magnificence of her ornaments ! And, indeed, if we should say that those ' curtains ' refer rather to the blackness than to the beauty of the Bride, the same as the tents of Kedar •, I do not know that we should be wrong ; nor would there be wanting reasons to support that reference, as we shall see in the sequel. But if we think that the beauty of curtains, however splendid they may be, is to be compared to the glorious beauty of the Bride, we have need to obtain the help of Him at whose door you have knocked in order to be able worthily to unfold a mystery so great. For what beauty is there in those things which are perceived by the outward senses which is to be compared with the inward beauty of a holy soul, or which, to a just judge, can appear other than common and defiled ? What is there, I ask, in

the spectacle of this world which passeth away that is capable of equalling the fairness and beauty of a soul which has put off its former vesture of earthly and soiled humanity, and clothed itself anew in that which came from heaven, and is in every respect fair ? For gems, it is adorned with virtues ; it is purer and loftier than the air itself, and more brilliant than the sun. Do not, then, look back to [the curtains of] Solomon for a comparison when you desire to understand what is the degree of beauty and splendour to which the Bride declares herself to be like. 2. What means she, then, by these words : / am beautiful as the Digitized by Google i68 curtains of Solomon ? These words, as I think, contain a great and wonderful mystery — if we apply them, that is to say, not to the king who ruled over Israel, but to Him of whom it was said : Behold, a greater than Solomon is here (Matt. xii. 42). He is so truly Solomon, that He is called not only ' Peaceful ' (as the word Solomon signifies in Hebrew1), but Peace itself, as St. Paul declares : He is our Peace (Eph. ii. 14) ; and with this Solomon we shall no

doubt find something worthy to be compared with the beauty of the Bride. Notice especially with regard to the curtains what is said in one of the Psalms : Who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain (Ps. civ. 2).

Now, the earlier Solomon, very wise though he were and powerful, assuredly did not stretch out the heavens like a curtain, but rather He who is not merely wise, but Wisdom itself — yes, it is He who hath founded them and stretched them out. Thus, also, it was He, not the former Solomon, who speaks these words : When He (that is, doubtless, God the Father) prepared the heavens I was there. His Power, no doubt, and His Wisdom, was there with Him who prepared the heavens. Nor must it be supposed that it was inactive, and, as it were, a spectator only, because it is said, ' I was there/ and not also, * I was preparing.' Look a little farther on, and you will find the express assertion : I was with Him forming all things (Prov. viii. 27 and 30, Vulg. and Douay). Lastly, He says : What things soever the Father doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise (John v. 19). So, then, it is He also who stretches out the heavens like a curtain. A beautiful curtain indeed is that great expanse which, as a tent, covers the entire surface of the earth, and rejoices the eyes of men by the variety and beauty of sun, moon, and stars which adorn it ! What is there more beautiful than this curtain, or more splendid than the heavens ? Yet it is not worthy to be even compared to the glory and beauty of the Bride even in this respect — that the beauty of the former, as being of a corporeal nature and apprehended by the bodily senses, is temporary and passing : For the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal (2 Cor. iv. 18). 3. But the beauty of the Bride is of an intellectual kind ; it is spiritual and eternal, for it is the image of eternity. Her beauty, for example, consists in charity ; and charity, as you read, never faileth (1 Cor. xiii. 8). It is also in righteousness, and His righteousness endureth for ever (Ps. cxii. 3). It is also in patience, and we learn that the patient abiding of the poor shall not perish forever (Ps. ix. 18).

What is to be said of voluntary poverty ? and of humility ? Has not the one the promise of the kingdom of heaven (Matt. v. 3), and the other of an everlasting exaltation (Luke xiv. n)? It is the same with the fear of the Lord ; it is holy, and endureth for ever (Ps. xix. 9).

So, also, with respect to prudence, to temperance, and to fortitude, and to any other virtues, if such there be, what are they but, as it were, pearls in the Coronet of the Bride, which glitter with constant lustre for ever ? For ever, I say, because they are the base and the Digitized by Google 169 foundation of immortality. Nor is there any place whatever in the soul for the life of immortal blessedness except that which is provided by the means and the interposition of virtues. It is on that account that the Psalmist says to God, in whom, without doubt, is this life of blessedness : Justice and judgment are the habitation of Thy throne (Ps. lxxxix. 14). And the Apostle says that Christ dwells in our hearts, not in every way, but, as he states expressly, in our hearts by faith (Eph. iii. 17). When our Lord was about to sit upon the ass, His disciples cast their mantles upon the animal to form His seat; and this signifies that the Saviour and that salvation cannot rest upon souls that are unclad and bare — that is to say, which are not clad in the doctrine and in the virtues of the Apostles. And therefore the Church, having promise of happiness to come, is careful in the meantime to prepare and adorn herself with a vesture enriched with gold, and decked with a variety of graces and virtues,1 so as to be found capable and worthy of the fulness of grace. 4. But I could in no way compare in beauty this visible and physical heaven, although most fair of its kind, and adorned with a bright galaxy of stars, with that other splendour of varying colours, spiritual and surpassingly beautiful, which sparkles even now on the robe of sanctification which the Bride has received. But there is a heaven of heaven of which the Psalmist says : Sing praises unto the Lord, who ascends above the heaven of heavens (Ps. lxviii. 32, 33).

This heaven is intellectual and spiritual ; and He who by His ivisdom made the heavens (Ps. cxxxvi. 5) has created this and established it for ever, and it is this in which He dwells. Do not suppose, then, that the devotion of the Bride allows her to stop short of this heaven, in which, as she knows, her Beloved dwells ; for where her treasure is, there is her heart also (Matt. vi. 21). She has a holy jealousy of those who are before that Countenance, for [the sight of] which she sighs, and studies to render her life conformed to theirs with whom she is not as yet associated in that happy vision. She cries by her life more than by words : Lord, I have loved the habitation of Thy house, and the place where Thine honour dwelleth (Ps. xxvi. 8). 5. She does not hold it at all unworthy of her to be compared to that heaven. It is stretched out as a curtain, if not extending over plains of space, yet over the affections and longings of souls. It has Divisions also, not of colours,2 but of degrees of beatitude attained.

For [God] has created some Angels, others Archangels, but others Virtues, Dominations, Principalities, Powers, Thrones ; others, again, Cherubin, and others Seraphin. These are the stars with which His heaven is studded ; these are the bright and glorious colours which adorn the curtains of this Solomon. This is one out of very many which are His, and the chief among them, which are each of them wanting in the earliest editions and in all our MSS. — Mabillon. {locontm). The editions have ' of heavens ' (caeloram).

Digitized by 170 blessed and glorious, though there be a great variety in the conditions of their glory. They are benign, moreover, and of a charity so far reaching, that it extends even to us ; so that far from being jealous of the glory they enjoy, they desire that we should obtain it. And in order to attain that end, some of them do not think it burdensome to remain among us, to be actively employed in watching over us and doing us good ; they are, in truth, ministering spirits, sent forth to minister unto them who shall be heirs of salvation (Heb. i. 14). Wherefore, as the whole multitude of the blessed are collected together, as it were, into one, they are called, in the singular, 'the heaven of heaven and, again, as each of them separately is, in a sense, heaven, they are called 1 the heaven of heavens.' It is of each of them that it is said : He stretcheth out the heavens like a curtain (Ps. civ. 2). So that you now perceive, I think, what are those curtains which the Bride takes pride in resembling, and to what Solomon they belong. 6. Contemplate, then, the glory of her who compares herself even to the heaven ; and to that heaven which is so much the more glorious as its origin is divine. Not unfitly does she select to be a point of comparison for herself that from whence she draws her origin.1 For if, on account of the body she has from the earth, she compares herself to the tents of Kedar, why should she not equally glorify herself as having a likeness to heaven, because her soul is from heaven ; especially when her life bears witness to her origin, to the dignity of her nature, and to the land to which she belongs? She worships and adores one God, as do the angels ; she loves, as they do, Jesus Christ above all ; she is chaste as the angels, and that in a weak body of sinful flesh, as the angels are not ; lastly, she desires and forth on behalf of his preceptor, against the Council of Sens, and against St Bernard himself, takes hold of these words, and tries to draw from them a proof that St. Bernard supposed souls to be created in heaven, and sent thence into the bodies they are to occupy. That writer thus rudely addresses the holy man: ' You have certainly erred in asserting that souls have their origin from heaven.

It will be useful and easy for the intelligent reader to understand by what arguments you support that position ; and I will recount them throughout. There is a book named in Hebrew Firasirim {Schirbaschirim), and in Latin Cantiatm Canticorum% of which the sense hidden under the text reveals Divine mysteries to those who diligently watch for them.' Then, further on, he adds : 4 These words of yours, if carefully considered, savour of heresy to every Christian palate. For if you argue that souls draw their origin from heaven upon this ground, that they are one day to return to heaven in order to be happy there, you must say the same of the body, since it, too, is to be happy in heaven. 'Or, if you write that the soul is celestial as to its origin, because it originated, that is, was created, in the heavens (which, indeed, seems to be the sense of your words), you fall into the error of Origen.' Thus rashly writes the apologist. But, after all, why should not the soul be said to be celestial, seeing that it has a Father in heaven, that its conversation ought to be in heaven, that its own country is in heaven, and that, in the same way, its nature transcends all earthly things? Wherefore St.

Augustine says, in arguing against Julianus : * Since we have a body which is from the earth, and a spirit which is from heaven, we ourselves are at the same time earth and heaven ' (Bk. ii., contra Julian.). But enough as to Berengar, the unscrupulous calumniator of our saint. — Mabillox.

Digitized by Google I7I seeks those things which are with the angels, not those which are upon earth. What can be a plainer proof of her celestial origin than that she preserves an inborn resemblance to the angelic spirits, and that in a region of unlikeness [to them], than to claim for herself on earth the glory of a life solitary and exiled [from heaven] ; and, lastly, to live as an angel in a body almost that of a beast ? Those actions are the signs of heavenly powers, not of earthly ; and they show clearly that the soul, which is able thus to act, draws, without a question, its origin from heaven. Yet listen to words which are unmistakable : / saw the Holy City, neiv Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a Bride adorned for her husband. And the Apostle has added, And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them (Rev. xxi. 2, 3). To what end? It was, as I believe, that He might obtain for Himself from among the children of men [the Church which is] His Bride. O wonderful mystery! He came for His Bride, and yet not without a Bride He came. He was seeking out His Bride, and yet His Bride was then with Him. Were there, then, two Brides ? By no means. For He says : My dove, My undefiled, is but one (Cant. vi. 9). But just as He desired out of diverse flocks of sheep to make one, so that there should be one Fold, and one Shepherd (John x. 16); so, having from the beginning of the world one Bride, with whom He was closely united — I mean the multitude of the angels— it pleased Him to call together a Church out of men also, and with this to unite that which is from heaven, so that there shall be one Bridegroom and one Bride. The one has been perfected, not multiplied, by the union of the other with itself ; and she is aware that this is spoken of her : She who is Mine is one, she is* perfect (vi. 8).

Yes, their conformity [to the likeness of the Lord] makes them one ; and if for the moment the conformity is only in the same fervour of devotion, it shall hereafter be realized in the same glory. 7. Thus, then, each of them is from heaven — the Bridegroom, who is Jesus, and the Bride, the heavenly Jerusalem [which is the Church].

As for the Bridegroom, in order that He might be made manifest upon earth, He emptied Himself , taking upon Him the form of a servant, and being made in the likeness of men, was found in fashion as a Man (Philip, il 7, 8). But as to the Bride : in what form or appearance, or with what degree of beauty think you was she beheld when she came down out of heaven ? Was it, perhaps, in the company of the angels whom St. John saw ascending and desce ruling upon the Son of Alan (John i. 51)? But it were better to say that he saw the Bride when he saw the Word made Flesh, and recognised two Natures in His one Person. For when He, our holy Emmanuel, brought to earth the rules of heavenly culture and training, when the visible form and image of the beauty of the heavenly Jerusalem, which is our mother, is expressed in Him and made known to us by His means, what have we beheld, except in the Bridegroom the Bride, and, gazing with admiration and reverence, have divined in one and the Digitized by Google 172 same Lord of Glory both the Bridegroom, decked with His Crown, and the Bride, adorned with her necklaces of precious jewels ? He,