Saint Bernard : the master-magnet of Europe in the twelfth century


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Yale University Archives



SAINT BERNARD
THE

MASTER-MAGNET
OF EUROPE

IN THE

Twelfth Century

*

BY

A TRAPP1ST



NIHIL OBSTAT:

Fr. M. Alberic Wulf, O.C.S.O.
Fr. M. Maurice Malloy, O.C.S.O.

IMPRIMI POTEST:
+ Fredericus M. Dunne, O.C.S.O.
Abbas, B. M. de Gethsemani

IMPRIMATUR:
Hh Joannes A. Floersh, D.D.

Archiepiscopus Ludovicopolitanus

Copyright 1943

by the
Abbey of Gethsemani, Inc.

Made and printed in U.S.A.
Deaefdfftei



TO THE

RIGHT REVEREND

FREDERIC M. DUNNE, O.C.S.O.

ABBOT

OF

OUR LADY OF GETHSEMANI





FOREWORD
“A magnet,” says Webster, “is a loadstone:

hence something which attracts. Any body
having the property of attracting iron.” Spill

some iron filings on a sheet of paper and ap-
proach a small magnet to them. As soon as the
magnet gets within range the filings seem to
quiver, to vibrate, and then yield to the attrac-
tive force. That is love, which we may define as
a free surrender of the will to the attractiveness

exercised on it by some good or goodness per-
ceived to be present in persons or things. Or,

in other words, it is a yielding to a charm that
radiates from another being and then a move-
ment to seek union with what enshrines that
charm. And why this surrender? Because the
will perceives the person or thing as a good, as

something which completes and perfects its own
being. There is, then, an intimate relationship
between good and love, for we can love only
that which attracts, and it is good alone, real or
apparent, which attracts.
To concretize and approach our subject — a

leader is a magnetic good, and Saint Bernard
was such a leader. A charm radiated from the
monk which caused women to hide their hus-
bands and mothers their sons lest he draw them
in his wake to the cloister or inspire them to
take up the cross against the infidel. In this
giant of the Twelfth Century men recognized an
ideal, they saw a good — an irresistible good
— which drew them to him. They were helpless
once they fell under the charm of his at the
same time dominating and powerful though
gently persuasive personality. He had the dash
of the paladin which drew the knight and sol-

5



dier, the courtly graciousness which won the
favor of princes. His heart softened at the sight
of misery and sufferings. Tears called forth all
the tenderness he had inherited from his lovely
mother Aleth, while at the same time his native
gallantry and Burgundian fierceness would thun-
der at the abuses creeping up in the ranks of
the clergy or the political world. He was all to
all — each one saw in him something he wanted,
something he needed. Bernard was truly a mag-
net drawing all to himself — one could not help
following such a leader.

+

6



I. LIFE IN THE WORLD
Birth and Childhood

A little more than a mile to the northwest of
Dijon, the ancient capital of Burgundy, in the
picturesque town of Fontaines, was born the
subject of this booklet, St. Bernard. Concerning
the year of his birth authors do not agree. Some
place it in 1090, and this seems more probable,
whilst others place it in 1091. They are a unit,
however, as regards the year of his death, Au-
gust 20, 1153. Thus within the period of sixty-
two or sixty-three years the life of the most
prominent man, in fact the leader, of the
Twelfth Century, ran its course. The purpose of
this booklet is to sketch the highlights of his
career.

Sanctity is not found in the cradle, nor is it
an inheritance. It is something that has to be
conquered; it is the fruit of labors and is real-
ized only by a life of prayer, mortification, and
correspondence with the grace of God. St. Ber-
nard, like all the other servants of God, attained
to sanctity by heroic efforts in controlling this
fallen nature of ours and by bending his will to
the good pleasure of God.
Nevertheless it is but just to recognize certain

circumstances which favored his growth in
holiness. Foremost among these was, undoubt-
edly, the influence of his home. St. Bernard
had the inestimable happiness of having had for
parents a saintly mother and a thoroughly Chris-
tian father. Both were of the highest nobility,
his mother being related to the dukes of
Burgundy.

Tescelin, his father, descended from the counts
of Chatillon, was a brave soldier, good to his
vassals, bounteous to the poor, and, like every
true cavalier, passionately devoted to justice; a
strong faith served as bedrock foundation for an
enlightened piety. He loved his accomplished
young wife and his children, and always found
his greatest happiness at home with his family.

Aleth (Aleda or Alice), Bernard’s mother, was
a woman of superior qualities. At the age of

7



fifteen she wished to enter the cloister, but
having been sought by the noble Tescelin, her
father gave her in marriage to him. Accepting
this decision as the will of God in her regard,
she aimed at becoming a saint as a wife and
mother.

Realizing that a mother begins the education
of her children long before she brings them into
the world, Aleth, in her manor of Fontaines, led
the life of a truly Christian matron. Fasting,
prayer, and watching were familiar to her. Mod-
est in her tastes and fleeing from the vain at-
tractions of the world, she not only gave alms
to the poor, but visited them personally, cooked
for them, and washed their dishes.
As might have been expected, she brought up

her children with great tenderness, but tolerated
nothing that savored of softness or effeminacy.
She regarded her maternal duties as a charge
entrusted to her by Divine Providence, and
considered her children as sacred deposits com-
mitted to her keeping, for which she would be
accountable before God. Consequently, though
of a very delicate constitution, she would never
leave to a stranger the care of nursing her seven
children — Guy, Gerard, Bernard, Humbeline
(the only girl), Andrew, Bartholomew, and
Nivard. Bound by the cords of her heart to the
Source of all love, she transmitted to her chil-
dren, along with her mother’s milk, the heavenly
virtue which was her life. In all her actions,
moreover, she strove to give them an example
of Christian virtue.

Though all her children received careful in-
dividual attention, Bernard was the object of
her special care. Shortly before his birth she
had a remarkable dream in which it was reveal-
ed to her that the child she bore would be a
great preacher and the “guardian of the house
of God.” Her attentions were not lost on him.
As a flower unfolds beneath the warmth of the
sun’s rays, so Bernard unfolded under the love
and care of his mother. Treasuring dearly her
every word, he set himself, as far as his age
permitted, to live as his mother lived, to pray
and do things as she did them. In everything
his mother was his model.

8



Early Education

The young Bernard was sent to the cathedral
school of Chatillon-sur-Seine for his education.
As his father possessed a house close to that
city, his mother took up residence there in order
the better to supervise his education. She had
the joy of seeing him become the most brilliant
scholar of the canons of Saint-Vorles. He gave
particular attention to the study of Virgil, Ovid,
Horace, Lucan, and Statius, and mastered them
so thoroughly that we find in his writings not
only the fluency of style which can be acquired
only by long familiarity with the classics, but
from time to time we come across citations from
the above authors, even whilst he is speaking of
mysticism.

Having finished his studies, Bernard returned
to the castle of Fontaines, where the cruelest
trial of his life awaited him. He had scarcely
returned when his mother died. She passed away
whilst clerics who surrounded her bed chanted
the litanies for the dying. In these she joined;
and as they neared the end her voice grew more
and more feeble. At the conclusion she made
the sign of the cross, and quietly breathed forth
her grand soul to God. For Bernard the sun of
his life had gone out. She had been more than
a mother to him. She had molded his soul on
her own, and had stamped on it a combination
of tenderness and strength which afterwards be-
came characteristic of the Abbot of Clairvaux.
Every day he recited the Seven Penitential
Psalms for the repose of her soul.

Facing the World

Our saint had now to face the world by him-
self. From what we know of him we can draw
a picture of what he was like at the age of
twenty. From his mother he inherited blue eyes.
His well-molded features were expressive of a
marked degree of daring and strength. He had
his father’s tall stature and fearlessness of char-
acter. He possessed, moreover, a broad forehead,
and his visage bespoke intelligence. All these
gifts were set in a background of gravity, which
commanded respect wherever he went. He was
a typical young cavalier; one who would surely

9



win his way in the world, and one whom the
world was sure to welcome.

It seemed that for a time the world did ac-
tually attract him. He soon learned, however,
that, though attractive, it was also dangerous.
Having allowed his eyes one day to rest with
curiosity on a young woman, her beauty so im-
pressed itself on his imagination that, in order
to suppress the motions of concupiscence, he
threw himself into a half-frozen pond, remaining
submerged up to his neck until internal calm
was restored. From that day on he, like Job,
“made a pact with his eyes, that he would not
so much as think on a virgin.”
This resolution, taken without a moment’s hes-

itation, showed him what ought to be the aim
of his life. But the renunciation that it involved
was compatible only with a life in the cloister.
There, and there only, whilst sheltered from
danger though not from temptation, would he
be able to focus every power of his soul on the
love and worship of the God who made him and
who had a right to the very best that was in
him. And there he decided to spend his young
life, for God alone.

In those days young men of Bernard’s age
did not execute a project of that kind without
asking advice; hence we find our saint opening
himself to his Uncle Gaudry. Subsequently he
broached the subject to his brothers. Without
any attempt at disguise he told them bluntly that
he had resolved to enter Citeaux. Had a bomb
been thrown into the family circle it would not
have surprised them more. They were filled
with alarm. What had a young man of his rank
to do in a hole like Citeaux? There the rule
obliged the religious to live the life of serfs;
they had to labor with their hands and devote
themselves to most humiliating tasks. If a career
of arms had no attraction for him, why not
choose a literary one? Or if he wanted to become
a monk, why not enter Cluny, where his high
birth would be taken into consideratioon. But
Bernard remained inflexible. Indeed, so elo-
quently did he defend himself that, instead of
being turned aside from his design, he won over
to his way of thinking the very ones who sought

10



to dissuade him. Soon he had thirty companions,
among whom were his Uncle Gaudry and all
but the youngest of his brothers. All were deter-
mined to follow him to Citeaux.

This, his first victory, marked him off as a
leader of men. It was all the more remarkable
as some of those he persuaded to enter religion
were married men and the consent of wives had
to be obtained. Moreover, these postulants were
of the highest nobility of Burgundy; consequent-
ly in embracing the religious state they had to
give up much in the way of ease and comfort,
and had to relinquish all rights to a future in-
heritance. All this accomplished by a young man
of twenty-three bespeaks great personal mag-
netism and irresistible eloquence.

Accordingly, in 1113, Bernard with a little
band of thirty companions betook himself to
Citeaux and begged the Abbot, St. Stephen
Harding, to receive them all into the brother-
hood. At first somewhat surprised at this request,
Abbot Stephen wished to satisfy himself that
the young men were in earnest. Having done
this, he admitted them into the novitiate to be
there proved, in accordance with the prescrip-
tions of the Rule of St. Benedict, “in all pa-
tience.” We shall leave them in the novitiate for
the moment in order to take a snapshot of the
period in which Bernard played so prominent
a part.

HISTORICAL BACKGROUND
Men who have played a prominent role in

history cannot be understood apart from that
history. Before attempting to outline St. Ber-
nard’s place in the Twelfth Century, we must
state briefly the general character of that period.
Viewed in the light of contemporary events, the
mission of the illustrious monk is better under-
stood. his acts receive from the circumstances
surrounding them a commentary that enhances
their merit, and we are permitted to measure
more accurately the extent of his influence. But
we must not judge St. Bernard, nor any histori-
cal figure, with our modem ideas. Rightly to ap-
praise him we must uncentury ourselves many
times before we are in a position to understand

11



either his work or his ideals. To detach him
from the historical background against which
his austere figure is silhouetted is to run the
risk of misunderstanding him completely. Like
those marble statues that top the entrance to
many of Europe’s cathedrals, the Abbot of Clair-
vaux by his genius and sanctity dominates the
Twelfth Century.

This period was a time of strife and revolt.
There were strife and revolt in the political
world, strife and revolt in the ecclesiastical
world, strife and revolt between the political
and ecclesiastical worlds; in fact, strife and re-
volt were in the very air men breathed.

There were two contenders for the imperial
crown in Germany. Italy was a land of anarchy
and disorder; revolution after revolution drove
the Vicar of Christ into exile. England and
France also had disturbances to take care of.
Schism — two rival claimants to be the legiti-

mate successor of St. Peter — disturbed the
peace of the Church for more than half a cen-
tury. The Emperor Henry IV set up (1080) a
puppet of a pope, the so-called Clement III,
against Gregory VII, the great Hildebrand. This
deplorable state of affairs continued under Vic-
tor III (1085-1087), Urban II (1088-1099), Pas-
cal II (1099-1118), and Gelasius II (1118-1119).
It came to an end in the pontificate of Callistus
11 (1119-1124). Thus four antipopes had usurped
the supreme authority in the Church. During
this lamentable period the legitimate popes, in
order to safeguard the rights and dignity of the
Holy See, were constrained to betake themselves
into exile.

In the midst of these vicissitudes the sovereign
pontificate, as might have been expected, lost
much of its prestige over souls and its influence
over society. Princes and lords soon accustomed
themselves to treat with scant respect an au-
thority which had neither force nor power to
support it. It was a favorable hour for imperial
ambition to make the most of.
On the pretext that an estate was attached to

an ecclesiastical benefice, the emperor or king
arrogated to himself the right of selecting bish-
ops for vacant sees and of conferring on them

12



canonical investiture. Thus the Church was
forced to ratify a choice which often had no
other motive than the caprice or favor of the
sovereign; most frequently the benefice went to
the highest bidder. Bishops so intruded into the
Church naturally became sources of scandal.

This was reason enough, though there were
others weightier still, for the Church's protest-
ing against such a condition and exerting all her
efforts to free hereslf from the degrading bond-
age. The monarch, to be sure, would not easily
relinquish a privilege that meant so much to
him in more ways than one. Hence eternal
friction between Church and State.
When, however, the emperors did consent to

give it up, they still kept their greedy eyes on
the Holy See ready to seize by ruse or intimida-
tion a prerogative they had been forced to sur-
render. Eight years after the Treaty of Worms,
Lothair promised to reseat Innocent II on the
chair of St. Peter if the pope would restore to
him this privilege. Had not St. Bernard been on
hand and boldly defended the apostolic position
on this important matter, there is no telling
what might have been the consequences.
The encroachments of the lay power on the

ecclesiastical had their reverberation in the
sanctuary itself. Bishops who had obtained their
ring and crozier from the monarch no longer
considered themselves bound to enhance the
episcopal dignity by their learning and virtue.
They in turn bartered away lesser dignities to
the lower clergy on the same conditions on
which they had received theirs. Self-denial,
piety, and purity of morals deserted the sanctu-
ary in proportion as simony got a foothold in it.
This condition, invading all ranks of the clergy,
contributed much to lessen the influence of the
priesthood among the people.
Under the shadow of these irregularities, the

sacredness of the faith itself was weakened. The
spirit of discussion entered into the schools and
declared itself even amongst the most respected
doctors by a boldness of language that recalled
the days of the ancient heresies. Roscelin, and
especially Abelard, proclaiming the independ-
ence of reason, shattered the formulas in which

13



from time immemorial the teaching of the
Church had been expressed.
Neither individuals nor the social units that

go to make up the world are insulated one from
another. A profound shock in one department
is bound inevitably to have an effect on the
others. The bold liberties that were taken with
speculative belief produced a seizable perturba-
tion in the life of the people. Contempt and dis-
dain for matters religious soon brought on con-
tempt for matters political.
Feudalism was the system by which Europe

was ruled in the Middle Ages. In the period
which we are studying it underwent, at least in
France, a great modification. Many cities, chaf-
ing under the harsh treatment from their suze-
rains, who often paid no attention to them, ap-
pealed to the king for the settlement of their
troubles. The king, as a general rule, took sides
with the people against the overlord and freed
them from his rule. Not content with this, the
people succeeded in wrenching bit by bit a com-
plete enfranchisement from the king himself.
Thus came into being independent municipali-
ties, such as Cambrai, Beauvais, and subsequent-
ly many others. All this was a consequence of
the spirit of revolt that was in the air.
Such was the period we are concerned with

in our present study. It was, to be sure, a period
of strong passions, of license, of struggle, and of
revolt. But we must not overlook the reverse
side of the medal. This latter had many traits
that counterbalanced to a great extent the ugly
ones. The marvelous success of St. Bernard’s
mission itself proves that there were noble and
strong convictions in the souls of the men and
women of those days. Though they may have
been guilty of great weaknesses, they repented
and did penance for them.
Prominent among these redeeming traits was

the ascendancy of faith in the life of the people
at large, despite the dangers it was exposed to
from the reckless inquiring spirit of the intelli-
gentsia. What else but a lively faith could have
inspired the Crusades? Again, the spirit of sac-
rifice and of surrender of self to God received a
new impetus and flowered forth into a remark

-

14



able development in the monastic life. New
orders were founded and old ones braced them-
selves up for an era of reform.
So monastic-minded was the age that it at-

tempted, and successfully too, a venture which
had never been attempted before — the combi-
nation of the monastic and military life. There
arose the Knights Templars and other military
orders for which the Middle Ages were re-
nowned. In fact, the spirit of religion was so
genuine and widespread that it gathered into it-
self the passions of the age, and thereby main-
tained the people under the influence and teach-
ing of the Church.

Monasticism, on the other hand, bestowed ben-
efits on both extremes of medieval society. For
the upper class it formed enlightened, pious, cou-
rageous prelates, who defended the faith by the
arms of science and neutralized the scandals of
the sanctuary by the holiness of their lives. At
the other end of the social ladder it showed to
the often impoverished laboring classes the
beauty of sacrifice, and taught them how to sup-
port with resignation the burden of poverty,
work, and suffering — all of which things the
monks took upon themselves of their own free
choice.
These favorable conditions — the empire of

faith over the souls of men, the preponderating
influence the Church still enjoyed over the civil
power, the prestige of monastic orders — are
elements we must not lose sight of if we wish to
understand the extraordinary role the Abbot of
Clairvaux played in the Twelfth Century.
More than any other, St. Bernard was the man

of his age because he knew how to identify
himself with its legitimate aspirations; more
than any other, he became all-powerful because
in taking possession of and directing the vital
forces that were developing in Europe, he stood
on a solid foundation of genius and holiness.

Yes, the Twelfth Century, which afforded our
saint so vast a field for his zeal and which re-
ceived from him such an undeniable direction,
was neither a period of zenith greatness nor one
of decadence. It was a period of struggle, or
parturition; hence it was at one and the same

15



time full of ruins and of fertile hopes. Whilst it
staved off the Protestant Reformation, it pre-
pared the glory of the Thirteenth Century.
We shall now return to Saint Bernard, whom

we left in the novitiate of Citeaux.

II. RELIGIOUS LIFE
Beginnings of the Cistercian Order

Citeaux, or the New Monastery, as it was
called, was founded March 21, 1098, by Saint
Robert. Having obtained ecclesiastical sanction
from the then papal legate, he came with
twenty-one companions from the Abbey of Mo-
lesmes, over which he had been abbot, to set up
a monastery wherein he and his brethren could
follow the Rule of St. Benedict as it was,
without subtraction or addition of any kind.
When Bernard arrived at Citeaux it seemed as

though its days were numbered. The very aus-
terity of its observance was appalling, whilst its
poverty was beyond human endurance — so
public opinion had it. On the other hand, an
epidemic picked off most of its members, yet no
recruits came to fill up the vacant stalls. There-
fore wise men asserted that such an absolute re-
turn to the literal observance of the Rule of St.
Benedict as was practiced at Citeaux was im-
possible; it was only a matter of time that all
the members would die out. To join a group of
madmen of that type would be downright sui-
cide. Yet this was the very place that young
Bernard chose for himself and his thirty com-
panions. He wanted to get away from the world,
to forget the world and to be forgotten by it,
and to give himself without reserve to God. This
is the reason for his burying himself in the
woods of Citeaux.

Saint Stephen Harding, who had succeeded
Saints Robert and Alberic as Abbot, was sorely
tried by this condition of things and his confi-
dence for a moment was even shaken. Was the
reform really pleasing to God? Were the critics
of Citeaux right after all? Was the mortality a
punishment for attempting to live more strictly
than others? He would seek from God an an-
swer to his doubts. It is related that he ap-
proached the bedside of a dying monk and com-

16



manded him in virtue of holy obedience to re-
turn and let him know, in whatever way God
might determine, if their manner of life was
pleasing to Him. A few days later the brother
appeared to him whilst he was at work and as-
sured him that his strict interpretation of the
Rule was pleasing to God. He, moreover, pre-
dicted such an abundance of vocations that his
children would spread over many lands. This
prediction began to be verified by the arrival of
St. Bernard and his companions.

Scarcely had the doors of Citeaux closed upon
Bernard, when he gave himself with all the
ardor of his generous nature to the pursuit of
Christian perfection. In this undertaking he had
the inestimable advantage of having a saint for
his master, St. Stephen Harding. The latter soon
discovered that his young disciple was made of
the metal from which saints are forged, and he
set himself in real earnest to make a saint of
him. Having arrived at a complete detachment
from all earthly things himself, master and dis-
ciple were on common terrain. For Bernard had,
in entering Citeaux, renounced once and for all
everything that could captivate the human
heart; thus he raised a wall of separation be-
tween himself and the world.

With souls giving themselves to God there is
one common mishap which has caused more
than one potential saint to stop at mediocrity.
It is a half-conscious or an unconscious or sub-
conscious mixing of generosity and meanness in
the service of God. There are grand and noble
aspirations and generous resolutions followed by
little seekings of self in various ways. These con-
cessions to self become more frequent and more
serious as time goes on. Lack of generosity with
God diminishes the inflow of choice graces; so
the would-be and could-be saint settles down to
a placid mediocrity.

But Saint Bernard would tolerate no rapine
in the holocaust; he gave himself up to God’s
service entirely and forever. From the first days
of the novitiate he set himself to tame his senses
perfectly, rigorously to discipline his imagina-
tion, and to make his will pliable by obedience;
in fact, his whole character was molded by self-

17



abnegation. As for the heart, which plays the
leading role in the making of a saint, although
it retained its native tenderness, it was elevated
by the purest motives to a supernatural plane.

Beginnings of Clairvaux

The entrance of St. Bernard and his compan-
ions marked for Citeaux an era of unexpected
prosperity. Very soon accommodations were in-
sufficient for the community. In the course of
three years four groups were sent out to make
foundations: La Ferte in 1113, Pontigny in 1114,
Clairvaux and Morimond in 1115.
The superior whom St. Stephen Harding chose

for the Clairvaux foundation was none other
than St. Bernard. His choice was the more re-
markable as our saint was then only twenty-
five years old and was not yet ordained a priest.
Moreover, he had been in religion not much
more than two years. It seems that the venera-
ble abbot received more than one remonstrance
from members of his community in regard to
his choice, for Bernard was hardly more than
a youth. Nevertheless, St. Stephen, who knew
men and especially Bernard, held to his man.

In the selection of Bernard’s companions, he
showed much delicacy and consideration. There
was, first of all, Gaudry, St. Bernard’s uncle.
Then three of his own brothers and a cousin
were given him; in all there were twelve reli-
gious and Bernard himself, their superior. They
were provided with everything necessary for
the celebration of Holy Mass and for the dis-
charge of the divine office. A wooden cross was
placed in the hands of the young abbot, direc-
tions were given him as to where he was to go,
then he was bidden to depart. God would pro-
vide for the rest. Thus St. Bernard and his little
band headed for the Valley of Wormwood to
open a new house of penitents.

Growing Reputation for Sanctity
Regularly the young Abbot of Clairvaux

should have received the abbatial blessing from
the bishop of the diocese in which his monastery
was situated, the Bishop of Langres. However,
owing to the latter’s absence, Bernard was con-
strained to look elsewhere. On asking the advice
18



of his brethren, he was persuaded to go to a
prelate whose reputation for learning and holi-
ness placed him in the first rank of his contem-
poraries; this was William of Champeaux, the
illustrious doctor of Notre Dame of Paris and
founder of the cloister of Saint Victor. At the
time of which we speak he was Bishop of Cha-
lons. It was he who gave the abbatial blessing
to Saint Bernard, and most likely, at the same
time ordained him priest. From this day till
the death of William, six years later, his esteem
for St. Bernard never wavered or diminished.
On his part our saint reciprocated wholeheart-
edly, and numbered the bishop among his dear-
est friends.

About the end of the year 1116, Bishop
William, yielding to his affection for St. Bernard,
invited him to preach in his cathedral church.
Having discovered, as he believed, a genius in the
young abbot, the bishop wished his flock to
benefit from the saint’s learning and eloquence.
St. Bernard, having preached a number of times
in the cathedral, at once acquired a reputation
as a preacher; for many and remarkable con-
versions were the results of these first sermons.

As a consequence of this reputation, the spot-
light of public attention was turned upon Clair-
vaux, and postulants from every walk in life
sought admittance into the monastery. So nu-
merous were they that the saint had to send out
colonies of monks to various quarters of France
and other countries. As a matter of fact, the
sermons at Chalons marked the starting point
of the incredible increase of the monks at Clair

-

vaux; a veritable exodus of select souls wended
its way to this monastery.
To give an idea of St. Bernard’s influence in

attracting men to the service of God, we shall
briefly summarize the monasteries he founded
from 1118 till the year of his death. In a pe-
riod of thirty-five years he made sixty-eight
foundations. These, though made mostly in
France, were scattered widely over Europe. Thus
he sent sons to Switzerland, Germany, England,
Italy, Spain, Belgium, Portugal, Sicily, Ireland,
Sweden, Sardinia, Denmark, and Poland. In
some of these countries he made two, three, four,

19



five, or even six foundations. At the time of St.
Bernard’s death there were one hundred and
sixty-four monasteries depending on Clairvaux,
and in this, his own house, he left over seven
hundred monks to mourn his loss.
One may be curious to know how ninety-six

monasteries not founded by St. Bernard never-
theless came to be dependent on him. It must be
noted that orders and congregations in the pe-
riod of which we write did not exist as we have
them today; and those that did, were not so
closely knit together. Hence it could well happen,
and as a matter of fact did happen, that a mon-
astery and its dependencies put themselves un-
der another monastery. Thus the monastery of
Savigny in Normandy and all its dependencies
were aggregated to the order of Citeaux and
placed themselves under St. Bernard. In this
one instance, twenty-eight monasteries not ac-
tually founded by the saint ranged themselves
among his filiations. It was by accretions from
outside sources that ninety-six monasteries came
to be dependent upon Clairvaux.
Another factor contributed even more to the

renown of Clairvaux and attracted attention to
its young abbot. It was around the end of 1125
that Bernard wrought his first miracle. The per-
son on whom he exercised this power was a
relative of his, Josbert, Chevalier of La Ferte
and Viscount of Dijon. This man was suddenly
struck with paralysis and deprived of the use of
speech. The members of his family were pet-
rified with fear and alarmed for his salvation;
for he had been anything but a good Christian.
He had oppressed the poor and the neighboring
churches. As this was well known to everybody,
it was asked: “How can such a man appear be-
fore the Sovereign Judge?” Our saint was called
in haste, but owing to absence from his mon-
astery, he was unable to come for three days.
When he did finally arrive, he was much dis-
tressed at the condition of the sick man and the
uneasiness of his family. “You know as well as
I,” he said to those who surrounded him, “how
this man has oppressed the poor and the
churches. If you as his heirs promise to repair
his injustices, he will recover the use of his
speech, make his confession and receive the last

20



sacraments.” The authority with which he spoke
surprised everybody, yet at the same time in-
spired confidence. Josbert Junior promised to
make good all the wrong done by his father.
Thereupon our saint began to say Mass. When
he was about finishing it, word came to him that
Josbert had regained the use of speech and
wished to speak to him. The dying man ratified
the promises made by his son, made his con-
fession with great compunction and received the
last sacraments from the hands of Bernard. Two
or three days later he died. This miracle was
followed by many others on persons both with-
in and without the monastery. So multiplied, in
fact, did they become that in the year 1126 the
Abbot of Clairvaux was universally regarded and
spoken of as the “Man of God.” The letters
that he received at this period all give testimony
of the esteem in which he was held. As for
himself, his modesty was alarmed. He made
every effort to destroy this opinion. Writing to
a cardinal he discloses his own sentiments about
himself: “I feel that people venerate and love
in me, not that which I am, but that which they
think is in me. In loving me in this manner it is
not me whom they love, but something else in
my place, something which surely is not me”
(Lett. 18, No. 1). In spite of all these protesta-
tions, however repeated and sincere they may
have been, public opinion persisted in bestowing
upon him an ever-increasing respect and con-
fidence, and considering him a saint.

III. APOSTOLIC LIFE
Reformer (monastic orders)

Citeaux broke with the Order of Cluny in
order to follow the Rule of St. Benedict to the
letter. By so doing the Cistercians at least tac-
itly reproached the older order with infidelity
to the Rule. Hence the friendship between
Cluniacs and Cistercians was not, from the be-
ginning of the latter’s institution, any too good.
As time went on, Cistercian monasteries multi-
plied, and so did their inmates’ reputation for
sanctity; this made the situation still more tense.
Moreover, the system of government whereby
the Cistercians were ruled differed very much

21



from that of the monks of Cluny, which was the
most powerful monastery of Benedictines in
France at the time of which we speak. Added
to all this, certain Cistercians had the indiscre-
tion openly to censure the Benedictine mode of
life. This brought matters to a head. The up-
shot of it all was that Peter the Venerable,
Abbot of Cluny, undoubtedly one of the most
remarkable men of his time, composed and pub-
lished an Apologia. In this, whilst administering
some stiff reproofs to the Cistercians, he very
ably defended the Cluniac observance of the
Rule. As a result, feelings ran high on both sides.

In the midst of all this St. Bernard preserved
his serenity of soul and never allowed his esteem
for Abbot Peter to diminish in the slightest
degree. However, it seemed to him that a reply
to the latter’s Apologia was demanded in jus-
tice to his brethren of Citeaux and to himself,
whom the Cluniacs regarded, rightly or wrongly,
as the chief protagonist of Cistercian ideals.
Hence he also composed a work bearing the
same title, in which, after giving a biting re-
proach to his indiscreet brethren, he proceeds
to point out the many and glaring departures
from the Rule of which the Benedictines were
guilty.

The effect of Bernard’s Apology was instan-
taneous and startling. “It resounded through the
Church,” says Abbe Sanvert, “like a clap of
thunder.” Particularly within the Cluniac Order
it produced great excitement. Loud protests
from every side came pouring in on the man
who dared to be as bold as truth, and feared not
to hold the mirror up before the eyes of the
monasticism of the day.
Not all, however, allowed themselves to be

carried away by their feelings. At least one
member of that order — as eminent in it as
Bernard was in the Order of Citeaux — fully ac-
knowledged the justice of Bernard’s strictures
and turned his indignation, not against the au-
thor of the Apologia, but against the abuses
that called it forth. This was Peter the Venera-
ble himself. He set to work at once, in spite of
strong opposition, to reform the numerous com-
munities subject to his jurisdiction. Later on, in
the year 1132, at Peter’s summons, two hundred

22



priors and twelve hundred religious assembled at
Cluny to consider, amongst other things, the
question of abuses in the order. Many of these
were the abuses St. Bernard had pointed out.
Another fruit of the Apologia was the conver-

sion of the great Suger, Abbot of the Monastery
of St. Denis, at Paris. The Abbot of Clairvaux
mentioned in his work an abbot, without ex-
plicitly naming him, who traveled with upwards
of sixty horsemen as an escort, to say nothing of
other equipage that savored of anything but
of the poverty becoming a religious. Suger,
perhaps the ablest statesman of his time,
was the confidential adviser of King Louis VI.
At the same time he was highly esteemd at
Rome, and had not Calixtus II died, he would
have been made a cardinal.
The great talents of this remarkable man were

employed generously for the welfare of the
state, whereas his monastery and its regular dis-
cipline were left to take care of themselves;
they were the least of his concerns. To say all
in a few words, Abbot Suger was a courtly
gentleman. Although none of the offices of the
palace were confided to him officially, neverthe-
less he had a high hand on all the branches of
government; his position was that of an all-
powerful Prime Minister. As a consequence, St.
Denis resembled less a monastery than an ad-
junct of the royal court.

Suddenly this brilliant minister of Louis the
Fat broke with his former ways of living. He
became a religious in the strictest sense of the
word. He gave up his courtly ways, appeared at
the court less frequently and kept at home in
his monastery. So complete was his conversion
that St. Bernard in writing to the Pope speaks
of him in the highest terms.
Not content with reforming himself personally,

Suger introduced reform into his monastery. With
a strong hand he brought it back to the practice
of the Rule of St. Benedict. He exercised his
influence likewise over the other houses that
were more or less subject to him.
We see St. Bernard encouraging another abbot

who convoked a general chapter of all the Bene-
dictine monasteries of the province of Rheims.

23



Having been prevented by sickness from attend-
ing in person, as he had been invited to do, he
wrote a letter in which he traced the program
of reform which the chapter should follow. The
truth is, our saint’s hand is discernible in all
those tentatives of reform that mark the sec-
ond quarter of the Twelfth Century. However
zealous he was for reform, he never lost sight of
the due measure of human strength. In his
eighty-third letter he reveals his mode of pro-
cedure. “The weak/’ he said, “are to be invited
to a more strict life, not to be forced thereto.”
Nevertheless, he could be very energetic when
firmness was required. He went so far as to write
to the Pope in order to interest him in arresting
the decadence of certain monasteries; once — it
is the only instance — he went so far as to call
in the secular power for the same purpose.
The “barking” of the Abbot of Clairvaux, to

use his own words, had a far-reaching echo, not
only at Cluny and St. Denis, but likewise in the
entire Benedictine Order. Reforms were intro-
duced in many monasteries. Some monasteries
became Cistercian. Entire congregations amal-
gamated with the Cistercian Order. Thus the
Abbot Serlon, Abbot of Savigny in Normandy,
begged to enter the Order with his congregation,
which numbered twenty-eight houses, fifteen in
England and thirteen in France. One of the lat-
ter was the famous Abbey of LaTrappe, which
afterwards played an important role in the his-
tory of the Cistercians. These twenty-eight
houses were attached to St. Bernard’s monastery
of Clairvaux. St. Stephen of Obazine, with
seven houses, also asked and obtained the same
privilege. The Hermits of Fontenay, Diocese of
Autun, finally embraced the Cistercian mode of
life.

But our saint’s zeal for reform was not limited
merely to those who professed the Rule of St.
Benedict. As a matter of fact he was deeply in-
terested in all religous orders. The Canons Reg-
ular of St. Augustine were objects of his partic-
ular esteem. Wherever feasible, he substituted
them for the secular canons. In places, he suc-
ceeded in inducing the secular canons to
embrace the Rule of St. Augustine and become
Canons Regular. On the other hand, communi-
24



ties of these Canons Regular that were observ-
ant, received much encouragement from him
to intensify their observance.
Another order that won his affection and es-

teem was the Premonstratensian. Their founder,
St. Norbert, was one of his intimate friends, for
whom he never lost an opportunity of showing
esteem. Whenever the chance of aiding or prop-
agating this order presented itself, he never let
it pass. The fact is, he ceded to St. Norbert the
title to Premontre, the place from which the
order derived its name, Premonstratensian. He
gave them another place in the diocese of
Langres, and induced Melisende, Queen of Jeru-
salem, to introduce them into Palestine and
richly to endow their monastery.

Reform (episcopal)
Fanned by the zeal of St. Bernard, the spirit

of reform spread itself farther and farther in
the West. Once it got started, it did not stop
with the regular clergy; it took possession of the
secular clergy as well. Bishops and also arch-
bishops modeled their lives on ideals that were
very different from what they had theretofore
followed.

Notable among these was Henry of Sanglier,
Archbishop of Sens, who at the time of which
we write was Primate of France. Moved by the
conversion of Abbot Suger and the reading of
St. Bernard’s Apologia, he asked our saint for
some instructions on the duties of the episco-
pate. After some hesitation Bernard responded
with his “Tractatus de Moribus et Officio Epis-
coporum — A Treatise on the Duties and Office
of Bishops.” In nine chapters the saint considers
the duties of a bishop looked at from the double
point of view of the difficulties inherent in the
high dignity of a bishop and the virtues that
ought to adorn his life and ministry. In adopting
the program of reform outlined therein, Henry
incurred the king’s displeasure, the latter even
going so for as to persecute the bishop. This un-
christian conduct brought upon him the censure
of the abbot, who did not hesitate to compare
him to Herod, not that “he pursued Christ in
His crib, but that he prevented Him from tri-
umphing in the Church.”

25



Another bishop, also a favorite of the king,
became a disciple of St. Bernard, and, like the
Bishop of Sens, he too felt the iron fist of his
master; this was Stephen de Senlis, Bishop of
Paris. Following the advice of our abbot, he set
about reforming his life. This necessarily in-
volved a less frequent appearance at court.
Naturally this did not please the king. Stephen,
after setting order in his private life, tried to
introduce it into the lives of his clergy. By at-
tempting to introduce the Canons Regular of
St. Victor, probably at the suggestion of St.
Bernard, into the cathedral, he provoked loud
protest from his chapter. They carried their
troubles to Louis. He, already aggrieved by
Stephen’s withdrawal from court, sided with the
chapter and forbade any change to be made. But
Stephen disregarded this prohibition. As a con-
sequence, he was deprived of his revenues. The
bishop then laid the entire diocese under inter-
dict. Whereupon, confiscation of property as
well as confiscation of the property of his in-
timate friends was what Stephen received. He
soon had to flee for his life.

Cistercian Intervention

King Louis held the Cistercians in high esteem
and had begged to be associated with them in
spiritual matters, a favor that was readily
granted. Aware of this, Stephen appealed to the
General Chapter of the Cistercians to intervene
in his behalf with the king. St. Bernard, in the
name of the Chapter, wrote the king a letter in
which he showed the injustice of his majesty’s
conduct and threatened to take the matter to
Rome if the king did not come to terms and re-
store the property that he had taken from
Stephen. Language of this kind was altogether
new to Louis. No bishop or prince or nobleman
had ever dared to address him in that fashion.
The letter had no effect.
Then all the bishops of the Province of Sens

with Bernard waited on Louis and begged him to
be reconciled with Stephen. But he was inflexi-
ble. Not even the threat of extending the inter-
dict to the entire Province could move him.
But our saint had another inducement. En-
lightened by the spirit of prophecy, he solemnly

26



predicted to the king that his eldest son, Prince
Philip, who had already been crowned, would
soon meet his death. Under the impression of
this prophecy Louis promised to restore to the
bishop his property and give him a chance to
defend himself.

Unfortunately, King Louis did not keep his
promise. Instead, he cunningly appealed to the
Pope and by clever misrepresentation succeeded
in having the interdict removed. When the bish-
ops came and asked for the fulfillment of his
promise, he dismissed them with scant consider-
ation, showing them at the same time the papal
documents.

Some might have regarded the case as settled;
not so Bernard. At once, in words that bespoke
humility and respect, yet with great firmness
and directness, he protested against the Pope’s
interference.

“I cannot conceal from Your Holiness the tear-
ful complaints of the French bishops, nay of the
entire Church of France. ... With sadness I have
seen what with sadness I speak of: the honor of
the Church seriously wounded in the reign of Ho-
norius. Already the humility, or rather the con-
stancy, of the bishops was prevailing over the
wrath of the king, when lo! the Sovereign Pon-
tiff interposed with his supreme authority to
confound the champions of justice and give the
victory to pride. I know that it was through
misrepresentation you have been led to call off
this just and necessary interdict. ... I wonder,
though, how you could have given judgment
without hearing both sides, and that against the
absent. But now when you know the truth,
you should see that the lie does not benefit its
author. . . . How long you ought to allow this
bishop to suffer or how far you ought to sym-
pathize with him, is not for me to say.”
Honorius set about undoing the mischief his

interference had caused, but he was spared any
great trouble by an event which brought the
king to his sense of justice. A pontifical decree
might remove an interdict but it could not falsi-
fy a prophecy. Shortly after the king’s final in-
terview with the bishops, Crown Prince Philip,
the hope of the nation, was killed by a fall from

27



his horse. This was a terrible shock to his father.
Brought at last to his senses, he pardoned the
grievances he had against the Bishop of Paris
and restored him to favor.
The Pope sent his Legate, Cardinal Matthew,

to France to convoke a council in order to settle
the affair of the king with the Bishop of Paris
and some other matters that demanded attention.
It happened at this time that St. Bernard’s
health was so bad that there was reason to fear
he would never be able to travel to the council;
or should he get there, he might never return
alive. Hence he declined the invitation the Leg-
ate sent him. “The affairs you have to treat are
either easy or difficult. If easy, you can settle
them yourself; if difficult, I cannot settle them,
for I am incapable of anything great.” But the
Legate insisted. He believed the Abbot of Clair-
vaux’s lights on the matters to be discussed were
indispensable. As a matter of fact, once Bernard
entered the council, he was the leading spirit
there. It was to him that the council assigned
the task of giving definitive form to the statutes
of the Knights Templars. In the course of its
sessions the council deposed a number of eccle-
siastics for various misdemeanors and regulated
many other affairs of the Church of France.
The council being ended, St. Bernard, more

dead than alive, hastened to return to his
beloved monastery, hoping to enjoy a little
well-merited peace. But there was no
peace for him. To say nothing of innu-
merable letters — he was in correspondence
with bishops, nobles, and men of all classes —
he soon became the victim of a severe persecu-
tion. The authority he exercised at the council
made him responsible for all its enactments, es-
pecially for the severe measures taken with re-
gard to the depositions mentioned above. “What
right,” it was said, “had a simple abbot to police
the whole of France? Is it the business of an
obscure monk to settle the differences that arise
in the diocese? Can nothing good be done with-
out him? His hand is in everything; he takes
precedence over bishops, over councils, even
over the legate himself. Very soon, if precau-
tions are not taken, he will usuip the preroga-
tives of the cardinals and the Pope.”

28



These recriminations were cleverly set up. On
the face of them they seemed to be solicitous
for the supremacy of the Holy See. At any rate,
they made a strong appeal to the Pope and the
cardinals. As a consequence Cardinal Haimeric
was commissioned to remonstrate with Bernard
and put him in his place, that is to say, the
silence of the cloister. As Cardinal Haimeric
was a true and dear friend of St. Bernard, we
may presume that the letter he wrote, though
undoubtedly severe, represented not so much his
own personal views in regard to our saint as the
sentiments of his brother cardinals. Undeniably
harsh the letter was, and unjust. All the services
that Bernard had rendered to the Church were
forgotten; on the other hand, he was reproached
with infractions of his Rule of which he was not
guilty.

If ever he had need of humility not to revolt
against rude handling it was in the present
crisis. Modestly, indeed, yet with great liberty
and with all respect, he replied. There was
question, be it noted, not merely of vindicating
himself in the eyes of superiors, but likewise of
defending the acts of a provincial council pre-
sided over by a cardinal legate of the Holy See.

“What!” he exclaims, “must even the poor and
the resourceless encounter opposition for truth’s
sake? Is there no refuge from envy even in
misery itself? Ought I rather to grieve or to
glory that I, even I, have made enemies by
speaking the truth or acting according to the
truth?” Having stated some of the offenses with
which he is charged, he goes on to say: “If they
are mine, I have deserved commendation; if
they are not mine, I have deserved no blame.
Unmerited reproof does not trouble me much,
and praise not due to me I decline to accept. . . .
Is the only charge against me that I was present,
instead of remaining at home in my obscurity
where I could be judge, accuser, and arbiter of
none but myself? I do not deny that I was pres-
ent at these councils. But I was present under
compulsion, not by free choice. If this has dis-
pleased my friends, it has been equally distaste-
ful to me. Would to God that I had not gone
thither! Would to God I might never have to

29



go again! I hate to interfere in matters that do
not concern me particularly. But in spite of this
I am dragged into them. Now, my Lord Cardi-
nal, there is no one from whom I may more
reasonably expect emancipation from this
tyranny than from yourself. You have the pow-
er, as I always knew; you have the good will,
as I have lately discovered. I rejoice to know
that you are displeased with my meddling in mat-
ters not belonging to monks. . . . See to it, there-
fore, that both your will and mine shall be sat-
isfied. Forbid these noisy and unmannerly frogs
to leave their marshes for the future. Let their
croaking be no longer heard in the council rooms
of bishops or in the palaces of kings. . . . Let no
necessity, no authority, have power to compel
their interference in disputes or public business
of any kind. I am resolved never to quit my
monastery again for affairs of this kind unless
the Order, the legate of the Holy See, or my
own bishop compels me to go out. These I can-
not in conscience disobey unless I enjoy a privi-
lege of a higher authority. If your eminence will
be so kind as to obtain that privilege for me, I
shall enjoy peace myself and leave others in
peace. Nevertheless, even if I hide myself and
keep silence, that will not cause the murmurs of
the curches to cease, unless the Roman Curia
ceases to injure the absent out of complaisance
for those who haunt her doors.”
A few months after this the schism of Ana-

;

cletus II broke out. We shall see how St. Ber-
nard was once more dragged into the melee in
spite of himself.

The Roman Schism
The See of St. Peter is the center of unity and

the visible rock on which the Church rests. It
is of vital importance for the millions of Cath-
olics scattered over the whole world to know,
without any possible hesitation, who has the
right to rule them; to see an uncontested head in
full possession of the power he has a right to, .
in order to rule the souls that have been con-
fided to him. During the last century and a half
the children of the Church saw the Papacy a
prey to many vicissitudes, saw it dragged into
more than one exile. We have only to remember
30 i



Savona, Fontainebleau, Gaeta, and finally the
Vatican. But the children of the Church were
spared one trial. When Pius VI was laid to rest,
he was succeeded by Pius VII. After him came
Leo XII, Pius, VIII, Gregory XVI, Pius IX, and
Leo XIII. All these were elevated to the Su-
preme Pontificate, and not even a shadow of a
doubt was cast upon the legitimacy of their
election. Just as soon as the newly elected pope
presented himself to the Catholic world on the
balcony or at the window of the Vatican to give
his first blessing, all knew who was their new
and rightful chief.
The age of St. Bernard passed through a crisis

that ours is spared. In 1130, a faction in the
college of cardinals met and, in spite of an elec-
tion already made that put Innocent II on the
Chair of Peter as Sovereign Pontiff, proceeded
to elect a pope of their own. The one thus
elected took the name of Anacletus II. The
Church then witnessed a most disconcerting
scene. There were two popes each claiming to be
the legitimate successor of St. Peter, each hurl-
ing anathemas at the other. In such a dilemma,
who shall pick out the true pope? Who shall be,
in these critical circumstances, the grand elector
of the Christian world? A monk, in his own eyes
the most insignificant man in the world, is called
upon by the bishops and princes to decide this
most momentous question. That monk was St.
Bernard.

All Europe, which at that time was Catholic,
was sadly perplexed to know who was the legit-
imate pope. In France, Louis the Fat found
himself in a very embarrassing situation. He
was a loyal son of the Church and showed him-
self willing to defend the Papacy. But just now,
who was the pope? As a matter of fact, what
titles could Innocent show? Anacletus, on his
part, had been shrewd enough to send legates
to Louis before Innocent had sent his. In order
not to do anything regrettable or make a mis-
take, Louis determined to convoke a council of
the bishops and abbots of his kingdom to meet
at Etampes to discuss the problem. The king
wished to have St. Bernard at the assembly and
summoned him to be present.

31



Anacletus was not idle or indifferent. He kept
an eagle eye on what was taking place in France.
As soon as he learned of the project of a council,
he wrote the king a regular Machiavellian letter,
in which he deplored his elevation to the Chair
of St. Peter, something he had never dreamed
of; declared that had he consulted only his own
desires he would never have consented to accept
the elevation, but had done so only because he
was convinced that it was the will of God; that
he entertained for the sovereign sentiments of
affection, and presumed that the king’s affection
for him is the same. Had it not been for St.
Bernard, the king might have been taken in by
the wily Anacletus. But the saint was alert and
keen enough to unmask all this chicanery. Just
as soon as he learned what had happened at
Rome, he lost no time in getting first-hand in-
formation from eye-witnesses. Armed with this
data and having sought light in prayer, he was
in a position to judge prudently the whole affair.

Council of Etampes
At the end of April the bishops and the abbots

finally assembled in the city of Etampes. From
the very opening of its sessions, all eyes were
turned upon St. Bernard. By a spontaneous ab-
dication of their rights — perhaps unique in the
history of councils — the assembled bishops
and abbots agreed to place the final decision in
the hands of our saint. Though there were many
venerable and learned bishops and abbots in
France at that time, yet they all agreed to accept
the decision of a young man of forty, Bernard’s
age when this council convened. This single
fact shows in what esteem he was held by
France.
When the time came for making a decision,

our saint reduced the debate to the examination
of three questions: 1. How had each of the two
elections been made? 2. What were, in each
case, the qualities of the electors? 3. Finally, what
was the respective merit of each of the elected
men? Having weighed these points with all his
natural and supernatural prudence and sagacity,
St. Bernard pronounced in favor of Innocent.
Whereupon the entire assembly, without a dis-
senting voice, acclaimed Innocent as the legiti-

32



mate pope. The “Te Deum” was then solemnly-
intoned and the council adjourned.

In all truth it must be stated that even before
the council the balance of public opinion in-
clined towards Innocent. Early in the month of
March, Bishop Hugh of Grenoble, conspicuous
for his learning and holiness, with some neigh-
boring bishops had held a synod at Le Puy with
a view to tracing a uniform line of conduct to
be followed in regard to the claimants to the
Papacy. All present pronounced in favor of In-
nocent. Coincident with this, Peter the Venera-
ble, Abbot of Cluny (at which Abbey Anacletus
had been a monk) just as soon as he learned of
the arrival of Innocent in France, sent him a
magnificent cortege of horses to be at his serv-
ice whilst traveling.

England Won to Innocent
Having won France to the side of Innocent,

St. Bernard now set about getting England to
do the same. However, England had declared
for Anacletus, and to win her over to his rival
was no easy task. Under Callistus II, Anacletus
had been sent to England as Papal Legate and
whilst there he had by his talents and generosity
made some strong friends among the bishops.
These prelates abetted his claims and used their
influence with King Henry to favor the antipope.
However, an occasion presented itself for a per-
sonal interview between that sovereign and the
holy abbot. It happened that, in the year 1131,
the king was in France. At Pope Innocent’s re-
quest, Bernard visited the king with a view to
detaching him from the cause of Anacletus. It
proved anything but an easy undertaking; for in
the king’s suite there was a number of bishops,
strong adherents of the antipope, who did their
utmost to prevent Henry from going over to
the side of Innocent. However, once Bernard
had set about anything, he was not the man to
stop at difficulties. As a rule, the more difficulties
piled up, the more determined he became, the
more he prayed, and the more he worked.
Forced by the saint’s arguments to abandon one
position after another, Henry finally took refuge
behind a scruple of conscience. He would be
willing to acknowledge Innocent but he feared

33



thereby to offend God. “Take care of your other
sins,” said the saint to him, “let me answer for
this one; I take it upon my soul.” Thereupon the
king surrendered. Accompanied by St. Bernard
and a numerous retinue of bishops and nobles,
he visited the Pope at Chartres, where Innocent
awaited him. There he offered the Sovereign
Pontiff his homage, his scepter, and his sword.
Thus France and England gave their allegiance
to Innocent mainly through the efforts of St.
Bernard.

Germany for Innocent
The Church of Germany was not slow to in-

form itself in regard to the facts of the two elec-
tions. Whilst the Council of Etampes, 1130, by
the voice of St. Bernard, recognized Innocent II,
the Diet of Wurzburg, in which the ruling spirit
was his friend St. Norbert, now Archbishop of
Magdeburg, induced Lothair, who was present
in person, to espouse the cause of Innocent II.

Early in the month of January an embassy
from Lothair waited upon Innocent at Chartres
to present to the Pope the allegiance of their
sovereign. In felicitating the Holy Father,
Lothair expressed the desire to see and have an
interview with him in regard to the best means
of reconquering Rome. As might have been ex-
pected, this was good news for Innocent. On
the one hand, Lothair, though elected Emperor
of the Holy Roman Empire, had not as yet been
crowned. The Pope alone could do that. On the
other hand, Lothair, as protector of the Holy
See, had the duty to defend the rights of the
Holy See, and he alone could insure respect for
its temporal prerogatives. The desired inter-
view was fixed for March 24, 1131, and was to
take place at Liege.

On the appointed day, Lothair, accompanied
by twenty-five archbishops and bishops, fifty-
three abbots and a large number of nobles, met
the Pope at Liege and escorted him through the
streets of the city holding the bridle of the
Pope’s white horse; this he did as a mark of
homage and respect for the august exile. At the
end of the procession he helped the Pope to dis-
mount. The next Sunday the Holy Father offici-
ated publicly in the presence of the entire court.

34



After the Mass the German Emperor publicly
recognized Innocent as the legitimate successor
of St. Peter and took an oath to accompany him
to Rome and establish him on the Apostolic
See.

Lothair was not by any means a disinterested
prince. Quick to perceive the favorable disposi-
tions of Innocent, without preliminary or warn-
ing, he demanded the restitution of the right of
investiture. This meant that at the death of a
bishop or an abbot the emperor could appoint
a successor and bestow on him the ring and
crozier with the formula: “Accipe ecclesiam.”
The manifold dangers to the Church from such
a system will be evident on a little reflection.
Rulers in want of money — the habitual con-
dition of medieval kings — would be exposed
to the temptation of simony; miters would be
sold to the highest bidder; consequently the epis-
copate would be invaded by unworthy men to
the dishonor of religion and the ruin of souls.
The Pontiff could not accede to his demands.
Lothair, on his side, was determined. He insisted,
became irritated, stormed, raged, and even
stooped to threats. There were several cardinals
and bishops present, but none of them had the
courage to stand up in defense of the Pope.
However, there was one man there, a real man,
who feared neither pope nor emperor, he was not
a cardinal nor a bishop, just a simple monk —
it was St. Bernard.

Taking in the importance of the situation at
a glance, he came forward without any hesita-
tion. The monarch’s boldness had not intimi-
dated him in the least. With unanswerable logic
and no less eloquence, he set forth the sacred
and inalienable rights of the Holy See and drew
such a masterly picture of the evils that would
result alike to the Church and the State, that
the assembly grew enthusiastic. By its repeated
acclamations it gave Lothair unmistakable
signs of what it considered the right course to
pursue. With much reluctance Lothair gave up
his pretentions and publicly assured the Pope
that he would abide by the terms of the Concor-
dat of Worms. “Thanks to this courageous inter-
vention,” says the Abbe Vacandard, “the Church

35



escaped once more the yoke of the civil power
and preserved her freedom of election.”

End of the Schism
St. Bernard succeeded in detaching from the

cause of Anacletus one of his outstanding sup-
porters, Cardinal Peter of Pisa, a man noted for
hi-s knowledge of canon law and his ability as
a dialectician. Our saint recognized this man’s
worth and rendered public testimony to the same
in a conference at Salerno in 1137. Accompanied
by St. Bernard, the Cardinal went to Rome and
was there presented to the Pope, to whom he
made his submission. The Holy Father was so
gratified by his conduct that he confirmed the
Cardinal in his dignities.

This conversion of one of the principal au-
thors of the schism — a conversion that drew a
number of others after it — left the Romans
as a whole very irresolute. The truth is, for a
long time their attachment to the cause of Ana-
cletus had been weakened. For various reasons
they held back from taking a decisive step;
some from fidelity to a rash oath they had taken,
some from interest, others from fear of losing
their dignities. However, it was a comparatively
easy matter for Bernard to iron out all these
difficulties. In a few days his convincing elo-
quence won over to Innocent the greater part of
these dissidents.

But as far as the antipope himself was con-
cerned, he showed no signs of weakening,
Lothair died in December, 1137; consequently
he had nothing to fear from Germany. On the
other hand, King Roger of Sicily, though much
shaken in his allegiance, had not yet definitely
abandoned him; besides, the Basilica of St. John
Lateran and the upper part of the city of Rome
were still in his possession. Humanly speaking,
therefore, the schism might well be drawn out
for many years. But God in His mercy saw fit
to put an end to this abnormal condition of
affairs. Anacletus died January 25, 1138.
A successor was elected to take his place in

the month of March of the same year, who took
the name Victor IV. But not long after, Victor
himself came by night to St. Bernard, begging

36



him to reconcile him to Innocent. Stripped of
the insignia of his usurped office, St. Bernard
led him to the feet of the pontiff. On May 29,
1138, at the head of those who had held out
against the legitimate pope, Victor made in St.
Peter’s a public retraction of his errors and
swore allegiance to Innocent as his liege lord.
The schism was ended.

St. Bernard’s work was done. There was no
further reason for his remaining at Rome; so he
hastened to betake himself to his beloved Clair-
vaux. Whilst the Eternal City was filled with
rejoicing, he quietly slipped away. In the hands
of God he had been the principal instrument in
bringing about this happy termination of events.
Public gratitude proclaimed him the Father of
his Country, Pater Patriae.

Heresy

St. Bernard’s doctrinal role is one of the most
outstanding features of the Twelfth Century.
Sharp-eyed and indefatigable doctor and apos-
tle as he was, he pointed out and mercilessly
pursued every error of this period.
From the days when Christ sent the Holy

Ghost upon His Church down through the ages,
two powers have contended for the mastery of
the world; two powers, nevertheless, that have
lived side by side in perpetual conflict: hu-
man reason with its man-made systems, and the
faith which Christ brought to the world and
which the Church has jealously kept intact from
century to century. The greatest temptation of
any age is to make reason supreme, independent
of the teaching of the Church; to prefer the
systems that man’s mind has fabricated to the
eternal truths of God. In the Twelfth Century
four men stood out prominently as champions of
reason and set themselves, knowingly or not, as
opponents of the Church. These were Abelard,
Gilbert de la Porree, Henry of Lausanne, and
Arnold of Brescia.
The problem of problems for the philosophical

mind of that period was that of the Universals.
In fact, it has been the continual ferment of
philosophers of all ages; from the days of Aris-
totle and Plato down to our own it has occupied

37



the minds of the most acute thinkers. Liberatore,
an able Italian philosopher, does not hesitate to
say that all philosophical errors are traceable,
more or less closely, to it. Above all, Pantheism
is an inevitable consequence of happening to fall
into a mistake about it.
The problem is this: Do the universal concepts

of our minds (man, virtue, cause) enjoy any
objective reality, or are they only simple signs
of things, consequently merely names without
any foundation in the order of existing things?
This same problem was taken up by Kant under
the name of Categories, and later on by Comte
with his Positivism. In fact, few questions in
philosophy have had graver consequences; for
in seeking to determine with precision and cer-
tainty the subjective and the objective — that
which has existence only in the mind and that
which really exists outside it — we can easily
wind up by shaking the very bases of certitude.
In St. Bernard's day this was the problem that
whetted learned minds.

Peter Abelard

Peter Abelard was born in Brittany in 1079,
and was therefore St. Bernard's senior by eleven
years. According to the historians of his times,
he was a man of prodigious mental activity, an
untiring debater, who was ever on the lookout
for a renowned master to uncrown in public
debate. Besides being well posted on all the
sciences of his day, he possessed a charming
voice, loftiness of stature, and a grace of person
which made him irresistible for the young men
who met him. His fame having reached Ger-
many, England, Denmark, Sweden, and Italy,
crowds of enthusiastic disciples flocked to him
from all these countries. Undoubtedly, Abelard
was the greatest teacher of his day. Wherever
he appeared, pupils left their old masters and
ranged themselves under him.
Not content with the laurels that philosophy

offered him, he ventured with his wonted reck-
lessness into the field of theology. He did not
hesitate to bring to the examination of the dog-
mas of faith the daring method he used in his
philosophical studies. No dogma, not even the

38



dogma of the Most Holy Trinity, was too im-
penetrable for him to examine. The result was
that in 1121 he was condemned by the Council of
Soissons for several heretical propositions in re-
gard to the Holy Trinity.
Forced by bad health to give up his teaching,

he took to composing his “Introduction to Theol-
ogy” and his “Christian Theology.” The latter
work was completed in 1138 and, having been
copied by his disciples, was soon spread over
Europe. One of these copies fell into the hands
of William, Abbot of the Benedictine monastery
of St. Thierry, a former pupil of Abelard and
also a friend of St. Bernard. Surprised at find-
ing the book full of false doctrines and arbi-
trary systems, he called Bernard’s attention to
the work and sent him at the same time fourteen
objectionable propositions taken from it. Wil-
liam begged him to oppose the new doctrines
with all the vigor at his command.

“His books,” he wrote, “cross the seas and pass
over the Alps; his doctrines on faith and on
our mysteries are spreading everywhere in the
provinces and kingdoms; they are published
with eclat, are defended with entire liberty, and
things have come to such a pass that it is even
rumored that they are received with favor at
the court of Rome. This man fears you. If you
keep silence, who will stop him? And after
what he has said already, what will he not say?”

St. Bernard had a private conference with
Abelard and tried to make him realize the dan-
ger to faith that his teachings and especially his
method had given rise to. Abelard promised to
abstain from teaching but failed to keep his
promise.

Pressed by his former pupils to resume teach-
ing; assured by them that his doctrines were
couched in terms broad enough to admit of a
favorable interpretation; in fact, reproached for
having allowed himself to be hypnotized by the
personality of the saint, he finally surrendered
to their persuasions and began once more to
teach. And he taught the selfsame doctrines that
his attention had been called to.
Under these circumstances St. Bernard could

not remain silent. Either he must stand by and

39



see the dogmas of faith undermined with great
danger to souls, or Peter Abelard must be de-
nounced. He did not hesitate a moment. He
flung himself with all the ardor of his nature
into the fray.

Council of Sens

Both men were active. St. Bernard warned
all he could, raising his voice in the very schools
where Abelard taught and thus detached from
the master a number of his disciples. At the
same time he wrote many letters to the Pope, the
cardinals, and other dignitaries of the Church.
But Abelard was not asleep. He too had his
partisans — scholars of repute and high church-
men. The most outstanding among the latter
was Guido del Castello, who was soon to ascend
the chair of St. Peter under the name of Celes-
tine II. All were aligned for the defense of
their master. The master himself was agog for
an encounter with Bernard. He did not have
long to wait.

There was to be an assembly of bishops and
nobles at the Cathedral of Sens on the first Sun-
day after Pentecost, 1140. King Louis was to be
there. Abelard could not desire a more favor-
able occasion to defend himself and humble his
adversary. He wrote, accordingly, to the Arch-
bishop of Sens, demanding to be confronted with
the Abbot of Clairvaux and to be given an op-
portunity to vindicate his teaching before the
prelates about to meet. Everywhere he went he
broadcast the debate as something agreed upon
and so contrived things that, willy-nilly, St.
Bernard had to consent. Past master in the art
of dialectics, Abelard anticipated an easy
victory.

Bernard had his misgivings as to the outcome
of this affair. Realizing that he was no match
for that Goliath, as he styled Abelard to the
Pope, he tried to avoid the encounter. Besides,
he felt it would be wrong to make the truths of
faith, than which nothing can be more certain,
depend upon the issue of human argumentation.
Bishops, archbishops, and, of course, the Pope
were the proper judges of such matters, not
monks. But he realized that the encounter was

40



unavoidable. Failure to appear would compro-
mise the truth; he had to accept the challenge.
The assembly met on the appointed day, and

the entire day was taken up with preliminaries.
The next day the primatial cathedral was packed
to capacity with the most august gathering it
had witnessed in a century. King Louis was
present, surrounded by his nobles; Geoffrey of
Chartres, the papal legate, presided; also present
were the Archbishops of Sens and of Rheims
with their suffragans and an immense number
of bishops, abbots, priors, clerics and scholars.
Many of these had come as keen partisans of
one side or the other. Abelard had no reason to
complain of the complexion of the court; for the
president, Geoffrey, was a former pupil of his
and had defended him in the Council of Soissons
in 1121. Outside the bench of judges, he could
count adherents by the score.
We shall let the eloquent Archbishop Vaughan,

O.S.B., describe what took place at the council.
“It can be imagined how all eyes turned on

St. Bernard, as he advanced in the white wool
of Citeaux to take his place in the assembly. A
searching scrutiny might have detected in the
mild majesty of the careworn face lines of suf-
ering and marks of tears. There was something
sadly awful in that noble forehead, in the classic
turn of those sensitive lips, in the glance of
those piercing eyes, and in the movement of
that slight frame wasted with long vigil, with
terrific penance, with a burning love of the
house of God, and with the ceaseless friction of a
laborious life. This was he who, when a child,
had seen Jesus, had been visited by angels, had
multiplied bread and had lifted the dead to life.

“And now Abelard, with his black Benedictine
robe, contrasting ominously with the white wool
of the Cistercian, was making his way up to the
church. Many at the lower end of the nave
were personally known to him, amongst others,
Gilbert de la Porree, an old friend, a man of
powerful mind and a thoroughgoing rational-
ist. . . . Abelard was preceded by Arnold of Bres-
cia, and around him buzzed as usual a swarm of
his gay disciples, who were looking forward with
intense delight to the issue of the day, to the

41



victory which they took for granted their master
would achieve. ... As he advanced up the
church, and fixed his eyes upon the king and
carried them along the line of miters, they
were distracted by a movement among the fa-
thers. It was St. Bernard. He was making his
way into the midst of the assembly. He held a
scroll in his hand. It contained the heresies
gathered out of Abelard’s theology. He came
forward, and with his clear voice deliberately
read them out in order. He then fastened his
calm eyes on his antagonist, and with a tone of
authority informed him, in the name of the
council, that he might choose out of three cour-
ses: to defend the propositions, to amend them,
or to deny they were his. In an instant all eyes
were turned on Abelard, and the pulses of that
assembly quickened whilst waiting for the first
sounds of that well-known voice, which had
rung out the issues of many a victory in the
arena of intellectual strife.

“Abelard spoke: ‘I will not answer the Cister-
cian. I appeal from the council to the See of
Rome.’
“The assembly was speechless with astonish-

ment. The bishops looked at each other in
blank surprise. And men had hardly recovered
from the shock when they were conscious that
Abelard had turned his back upon the king,
legate, and bishops, and, followed by his won-
dering disciples, had left the church.” (Life of
St. Thomas Aquinas, p. 105.)

This turn of events seemed to disconcert the
Council. However, St. Bernard was not the man
to be nonplussed by such a move. He insisted
that the propositions be examined and con-
demned; for the scandal given to the body of the
faithful was still existent, palpable, disseminated
as widely as the reputation of its author. Mul-
titudes had accepted his statements; the faith
was menaced; it would be hazardous to defer
a decision on questions that so directly con-
cerned the sacred dogmas and had such con-
sequences for souls. The judges might, if they
wished, leave to the Holy Father the care of
passing sentence on the person of the doctor;
but they should proceed at once to the condem-

42



nation of his errors. The council condemned
“not only as false but as heretical” some seven-
teen propositions extracted from the works of
Abelard.

As for himself, Bernard at once opened up a
rapid-fire correspondence with a large number
of abbots, bishops, and cardinals, even with the
Pope himself. To the latter he wrote a letter
(rather we should call it a treatise owing to its
length) in which he refuted one by one the
errors of Abelard. Herein our saint shows re-
markable acumen, notwithstanding the fact that
he disclaims any dialectic abilities.

In the course of these letters it must be ad-
mitted that the great Abbot of Clairvaux ex-
pressed himself at times very forcefully, more
than was his wont; so forcefully, in fact, that
to some historians he seems to have forgotten
his usual sweetness of character and shown no
mercy to his adversary.
Be this as it may, it must be borne in mind, in

the first place, that Abelard’s doctrine on the
Holy Trinity, to say nothing of his other errors,
honeycombed the very basis of revealed religion.
Furthermore, he handed out his tenets to the
man in the street, as we say today, and also to
the “higher-ups.” More than twenty cardinals
and one Pope, Pope Celestine II, looked up to
him as their master. With the sole exception of
St. Bernard, he was the most celebrated man in
Europe in this day. Hence it is self-evident that
the teachings of such a master would win a
hearing for themselves anywhere; even at Rome
they enjoyed great weight. For precisely these
reasons it was imperative to prevent the evil
from spreading. As a result of the energy with
which St. Bernard pushed the case, Innocent II
condemned Abelard on July 14, 1140. In writing
to the Archbishop of Sens and Rheims he noti-
fied them that he declared Peter Abelard a
heretic, ordered his books to be burned wher-
ever they were found, and condemned him to
perpetual silence. It is pleasant to note that,
two years later, Abelard died a monk of Cluny,
reconciled to Bernard and to the Church, having
made an effort to purify his published works of
their errors.

43



Gilbert de la Porree
Another light that slipped in its orbit was

Gilbert de la Porree, Bishop of Poitiers. For
brilliance of mind he was almost the rival of
Abelard, with whom he had studied theology-
under Anselm of Laon. Following in the foot-
steps of his fellow student, he too undertook to
make an analysis of the faith and wound up,
like him, on the side of heresy. Two of his own
archdeacons denounced him to Pope Eugene III
for departing from the teaching of the Church
in regard to the simplicity of the divine nature,
the application of the merits of Jesus Christ, and
the efficacy of the sacrament of baptism. The
Pope promised to take the matter of their com-
plaint into consideration when he should visit
France, and advised them to communicate in
the meantime with the Abbot of Clairvaux.

Eugene, following the suggestion of St. Ber-
nard, summoned a council to meet at Rheims in
the latter part of March, 1148. On the appointed
day eighteen cardinals, and more than four hun-
dred archbishops, bishops, and abbots (from
France, Germany, Italy and England) met at
the above-mentioned city. In due course the
subject of heresy was taken up.

Called upon to give an account of his doc-
trines, Gilbert amazed his audience by a be-
wildering array of citations from the Fathers of
the Church and from Holy Scripture; for he was
a great speaker and had a prodigious memory.
Like the monster of Virgil which, under the
cover of smoke, evaded all efforts to seize it, so
Gilbert by his syllogistic subtleties could not
be brought to bay. At last the Abbot of Clair-
vaux interrupted him:

“Hold; we have enough of that rhetoric. The
point is this: you are charged with holding and
teaching that the divine essence or nature is not
God but the form by which God is God; that
neither is the divine wisdom God, nor the divine
goodness, nor the divine greatness. Tell us
plainly whether or not this is your opinion.”
“The divinity,” answered Gilbert boldly, “is

not God but the form by which God is God.”
“Behold, now we have the avowal we were

looking for,” exclaimed St. Bernard. “Let the
Bishop’s confession of faith be written down.”

44



“And let your own doctrine also be written
down/’ retorted Gilbert evidently out of temper,
“namely, that the divinity is God.”

“Aye,” answered the saint, “let it be written
with a pen of iron on a slate of adamant.”
The saint likewise questioned him on other

points of doctrine, notably on the Holy Trinity,
and constrained him to make some clean-cut
statement in regard to these points. When the
debate was over, the cardinals said they would
withdraw to consult in private as to what sen-
tence should be passed.
Many other members of the council, including

ten archbishops, bishops, abbots, and professors,
mostly French, held a meeting of their own to
consider the situation. It was quite clear to all
that the cardinals were partial to Gilbert. The
bishops decided, at Bernard’s suggestion, to
write Gilbert’s erroneous doctrines and to op-
pose to them their own profession of faith; the
paper was then to be handed to the cardinals
as a means of guiding their deliberations. Ber-
nard himself was commissioned to draw up the
articles of orthdox belief.

After reading the symbol composed by Ber-
nard, Pope Eugene declared that it embodied the
faith of the Roman Church. But the cardinals
affected to see in it an invasion of their rights.
“It is the inviolable prerogative of the Roman
Church,” they said, “to pronounce upon ques-
tions of faith, and the Pope must not sacrifice
the interests of the Holy See to his affection for
his former superior.” (The Pope had been a
monk at Clairvaux under St. Bernard.) How-
ever, Bernard explained that neither he nor the
bishops had any thought of usurping the rights
of Rome; it was not as dictating a verdict that
they had presented the symbol, but simply as a
confession of faith in opposition to the doctrines
of Gilbert. This explanation appeased the car-
dinals, and they approved the propositions sub-
mitted by the abbot in the name of the bishops.
The Pope then called upon Gilbert to retract

his erroneous statements one by one. The Bishop
obeyed, reciting aloud the condemned proposi-
tions. By this act of humility he recovered the
favor of the Holy See and was sent back to his
diocese with honor.

45



Henry of Lausanne

The errors of Gilbert de la Porree remained
more or less within the walls of the schoolroom;
but the pernicious preaching of Henry of
Lausanne, an apostate monk, gangrened entire
provinces in the south of France. Exploiting
beyond measure certain isolated scandals of
particular priests, he drew the sweeping con-
clusion that the sacraments and prayers of the
Church were useless. He denied, moreover, that
baptism was of any effect for infants, rejected
the worship of the Cross, forbade prayers for the
dead, condemned public ceremonies of the
Church, and proscribed above all things the
Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. What helped to gain
a hearing for all these errors was his attractive
personality. He was young, insinuating, of dis-
tinguished manners, and eloquent. Furthermore,
he was poor, of austere habits, walked bare-
footed even in winter: in a word, he had all the
externals of sanctity. In reality, however, these
were only a cloak for a dissolute life.
What made matters worse was the fact that

the clergy which Henry attacked with such vio-
lence could not reduce him to silence either by
its virtue or its science. For in spite of the reg-
ulations of councils and the efforts of popes, the
many weaknesses and great ignorance of the
priests of France at the time of which we are
speaking furnished a ready background for the
charges of the enemies of the Church.

City after city heard the wild diatribes of this
renegade monk and fell victim to his eloquence.
St. Bernard has left us a sad picture of the ef-
fects of his preaching. “What do we see?
Churches without congregations, congregations
without priests, priests without the reverence
due to them, Christians without Christ. The
churches are regarded as synagogues; the sanc-
tuary of God is no longer considered holy; the
sacraments have been robbed of their sacred
character. Men are dying daily in their sins,
and souls are being hurried to judgment. The
life that comes from Christ is withheld, with
the grace of baptism, from children of Christian
parents; they are forbidden to approach the
Savior.”

46



It did not take St. Bernard long to deliberate
as to the best way to act. Refutation and argu-
ment he saw, were out of place; another kind
of polemic was needed. God’s mercy was re-
quired here in superabundance. And he set him-
self to obtain it by prayer. Owing to a recent
illness, he was the picture of death. Pale and
emaciated, he could scarely drag one foot after
the other. However, under this outward appear-
ance his piercing eyes still burned bright and
his voice was as vibrant as ever.

His first conquest was Bordeaux. In this city
there was a domestic schism. For five years the
clergy had been in open revolt against their
archbishop, whom they forced to withdraw from
the diocese. Our saint simply showed himself.
Crowds gathered around him. Then raising his
voice he pleaded the cause of right and justice
with irresistible eloquence, showing how peril-
ous to souls was the present difference between
shepherd and flock. At once minds were set at
peace. The canons themselves were the first to
accord the concessions he asked of them, and
thereupon the archbishop returned to his diocese.
Our saint went from place to place preaching

the word of God and working miracles without
number, almost recklessly. At Sarlat an appar-
ent imprudence gave his companions a shock.
After preaching to the multitudes against the
errors of Henry, he was offered some bread to
bless. Making the sign of the cross over the food
he cried out:
“Here is a test by which you shall know

whether or not I tell you the truth and the here-
tics teach falsehood. All amongst you who eat
this bread shall have health restored to them.”

“That is if they eat with true faith,” inter-
posed the Bishop of Chartres, fearful lest Ber-
nard was going too far.

“No, no,” replied the saint quickly, “I make no
condition. I promise that whosoever eats this
bread shall be cured.”
The promise was verified to the letter. Count-

less cures were wrought in the town and district
by the blessed bread. As a consequence the holy
abbot found it difficult to travel about because
of the multitudes that accompanied him.

47



Thus, one by one the cities and districts of
Languedoc with but one exception, Verfeil,
turned from error and came back to the bosom
of Holy Church. Under God, the man who ef-
fected this was St. Bernard.

Arnold of Brescia
Arnold of Brescia, a disciple of Abelard,

teaching a strange potpourri of philosophy and
politics, sought to reestablish the Homan Repub-
lic, at the same time that he tried to propagate
the rationalist doctrines of his master. He taught
that the clergy should not have any temporal
possessions, and should be content with alms,
like the Apostles. He advocated an absolute sep-
aration between the temporal and the spiritual;
for him only the prince or state had the right to
possess. His preaching so excited the Roman
people that they maltreated the bishops and
cardinals in every possible way and seized their
property. St. Bernard followed all the move-
ments of this Twelfth Century Mazzini with un-
tiring vigilance. By his letters he had the dema-
gogue expelled from France, then from Switzer-
land, where he had taken refuge. He also wrote
to the people of Rome, but apparently without
much success. Troubles in the East would soon
engage his attention, in fact, the attention of
all Europe.

Councils

We have now to speak of another role ftiat
brought out the personality of our saint in a
very conspicuous manner — the part he played
in the councils of the Church. The Abbe San-
vert says very correctly: “Whenever he enters
3n episcopal council, he fills it. He stands alone
there, representing the entire Church. His ges-
tures are guideoosts, his pronouncements almost
articles of faith. Where others have to grope
their way, his step is sure, and he goes straight
on.” In speaking of the Schism we have already
noticed his preponderating influence in deciding
the allegiance of the French Church to Innocent.
Likewise we have seen the leading part he took
in the councils that condemned Abelard and Gil-
bert de la Porree. A few more may be mentioned
to emphasize the influence he wielded over his
contemporaries.

48



For the purpose of making it evident that the
world acknowledged him as the successor of St.
Peter, Innocent summoned a great council to
meet at Rheims in the month of October, 1131.
Thirteen archbishops, two hundred and sixty-
three bishops, and a large number of abbots of
various orders from different nations of Europe
answered the call. King Louis of France was
present in person; the sovereigns of Germany,
Spain and England were represented by their
ambassadors. The council sat for fifteen days.
It proclaimed Innocent the rightful successor of
St. Peter and the Vicar of Jesus Christ, anathe-
matized Anacletus and his adherents, and de-
fined the relations between Church and State in
several matters of importance. Of this council,
which embraced all the elite of Christian Eu-
rope, St. Bernard was the outstanding figure,
the oracle.

Again Pope Innocent summoned a council to
meet at Pisa on May 30, 1135. For some un-
known reason, King Louis, being at variance
with the Pope, forbade the bishops of his realm
to leave the country. This act drew forth a
vigorous protest from St. Bernard.

“Earthly crowns and royal prerogatives re-
main safe and secure to their owners,” he wrote
to the king, “so long as these latter remain faith-
ful to God by not resisting His decrees and ap-
pointments. Why is Your Majesty’s wrath en-
kindled against Innocent, the elect of God, whom
you recently welcomed into your kingdom and
chose as a father for yourself and as another
Samuel for your son? Herein the royal indigna-
tion is turned, not against outsiders, but against
your own house and your own best interests.
... A council has been convoked. How does that
injure your royal glory or the interests of your
crown?. . . Now, although I am the very least
of your subjects — in dignity, I mean, not in
fidelity — I will make bold to tell you this: it is
not expedient for Your Majesty to place ob-
stacles in the way of so great and so necessary a
good. ... If anything has been done by the Su-
preme Pontiff that causes you displeasure, your
loyal subjects will do their utmost to defend
your honor, and I in particular promise to em-

49



ploy for the same purpose whatever influence
I possess.” The king heeded this advice and
allowed his subjects to depart without further
trouble. Although the Pope, himself attended
this council, Bernard was, as* he had been in so
many others, its unquestioned oracle. Indeed, his
influence had grown since the Council of
Rheims. “The holy abbot,” writes one of his
biographers, “had part in all the enactments,
judgments, and decisions. His door was con-
stantly besieged by a multitude of churchmen,
each waiting his turn for audience; so that the
man of God, who out of humility avoided every
honor, seemed to possess not a part but the
plenitude of the ecclesiastical patronage.”

Political Influence

During the schism, the Emperor Lothair was
the only sovereign in Europe who could oppose
King Roger of Sicily with any hope of success.
But the Emperor was just then engaged in a
life and death struggle with Duke Conrad of
Hohenstaufen, who for ten years had been try-
ing to wrest the scepter from his hands. It
looked very much as though Roger would ex-
tend his conquests without any serious opposi-
tion, for under the circumstances no help could
be expected from Germany. The thought oc-
curred to Innocent that the only hope of bring-
ing peace to Germany lay in St. Bernard, whose
powers of persuasion were almost irresistible.
Accordingly, at the beginning of the year 1135
our saint received the command to go into Ger-
many as papal legate and there work for the
restoration of peace between the warring
factions.
Though sadly in need of rest, Bernard obeyed

without a word of remonstrance. The result was
that Conrad and his brother Frederick gave up
the hopeless struggle and were reconciled to the
Emperor. Having obtained what he had gone into
Germany for. Bernard now urged Lothair to
march into Italy against Roger. The Emperor
promised to do this the next year. Thus our
saint left Lothair free to oppose Roger, and at
the same time deprived Anacletus of a powerful
ally. For it was but natural that Conrad had
supported the antipope; antipope and antiem-

50



peror worked together. In this instance St. Ber-
nard again weakened the Schism in a very ma-
terial way.
Some time before the Council of Pisa opened

(1135) a deputation of clerics and laymen from
Milan waited on Bernard and invited him to their
city. A revolution had taken place against the party
of Conrad and the antipope, and their archbishops,
who had sided with Anacletus, had been driven
out. They wanted Bernard to set things in order.
Another deputation from the same city waited
on Pope Innocent whilst the council was sitting
and begged him to approve the action of their
fellow citizens, and to send them some person
of eloquence and authority to complete what
they had done. It was quite plain whom they
wanted. The Pope promised to send them St.
Bernard on the conclusion of the council. Ac-
cordingly when the council was over, our saint,
accompanied by three papal legates, took his
way to the city of St. Ambrose.

Reception at Milan
The reception he received from the Milanese

surpassed any that had ever been given him.
When news of his approach reached the city,
the whole population, noble and peasant, rich
and poor, streamed through the gates and ad-
vanced seven miles to meet him. For them he
was the man of God, the miracle worker, an
angel of peace, the powerful advocate who
would protect them from the wrath of the Em-
peror and reconcile them to the Vicar of Christ.
Milan owed allegiance to the Roman Emperor.
But having sided with the antipope, who ac-
knowledged the claims of Duke Conrad, they
had hiterto refused to recognize Lothair and had
supported his rival. Now that Lothair’s right
was established beyond dispute, they began to
fear his vengeance. And they had good reason
to fear it; for the cities of Suabia had suffered
terrible chastisement for a like offense. The one
hope of the Milanese was in Bernard’s media-
tion. Through him also they hoped to be rein-
stated in the favor of Innocent, whose authority
they had up till then repudiated.
No wonder they welcomed the Abbot of Clair-

vaux as an angel from heaven. Meeting him at

51



the seventh milestone, they showed their rever-
ence for him in a way that embarrassed the
saint quite a little. For a while the mighty
multitude seemed determined either to crush or
suffocate him. “Everyone wanted to see the man
of God,” says one of his biographers, “and those
were accounted fortunate who heard the sound
of his voice. All desired to kiss his feet — which
greatly annoyed him. Nevertheless, try as much
as he would, he could not prevent it. Some
plucked threads from his habit, which they
piously preserved and used as remedies against
diseases; for they regarded as holy everything
he touched.” Thus he advanced in triumph to-
wards the city, preceded and followed by a
shouting multitude.

Milan was Bernard’s, and his will was law.
The people were, of course, as unanimous in
favor of Innocent as if they had never heard of
Amacletus. Just as readily did they acknowledge
the authority of Lothair, and agreed to make
due satisfaction for any injury they might have
done to him. The anathema could now be lifted
from them.
To make this act of reconciliation with the

Pope and Emperor more impressive, our saint
imparted to it all the solemnity possible. He as-
sembled the people and their rulers, civil and
ecclesiastical, in the venerable cathedral of St.
Ambrose and there celebrated Mass in their
presence. After publicly taking the oath of al-
legiance to Innocent and Lothair, all, clergy and
laity alike, received Holy Communion from his
hands.

When departing for Milan, Bernard had
received instructions not to reconcile the Mil-
anese to the Church until they had renounced
their allegiance to Conrad. This our saint ob-
served; but he went further. Presuming on the
clemency of the Emperor, he promised the re-
pentant people a full and free pardon in the
Emperor’s name, a thing which he had not been
authorized to do. He realized that he was over-
stepping his orders, and wrote at once to have
his act ratified: “It would be unworthy of Your
Majesty,” he wrote to Lothair, “to put to shame
your loyal subjects, who never miss a chance
52



to promote the interests of your crown. But I
shall be put to shame if (which God forbid) you
show yourself inexorable to these good people,
whom I, presuming on your goodness, have re-
joiced with the promise of pardon.” He was not
put to shame; the Emperor approved all he had
done.
What heightened the influence of St. Bernard

over the Milanese was the power of miracles he
exercised in favor of the sick of the city and
neighboring country. At his request the rulers
of the city released a number of prisoners of
war, and consented to make peace with the
cities of Pavia, Piacenza, and Cremona, with
which they were at war. His word was law for
them.

See of Milan Offered to Bernard
The day before Saint Bernard was to leave

Milan, the clergy and people held a meeting to
choose a successor to the schismatical Arch-
bishop Anslem, who had been deposed. Suddenly
someone cried out: “Bernard for archbishop!”
With wild enthusiasm the cry was taken up and
spread throughout the assembly. Soon the entire
city was gathered under the saint’s window,
shouting with all their strength: “Bernard for
archbishop!” He did not know what to do. To
refuse them bluntly, he would not think of; for
he did not want to offend them. However, as
Milan was one of the most important cities of
Italy and one it was imperative to keep loyal to
the pope, it was quite possible that the latter
could be prevailed upon to order Bernard to ac-
cept the dignity. Hence our saint had to pro-
ceed with caution. To free himself he resorted
to an innocent ruse.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “I will mount my horse

at the gates of the city. If the animal turns
round and re-enters the city, I will be your
archbishop; but if it heads for the country, that
will be a sign that I am not to be your arch-
bishop.” The proposal was accepted.
The next morning a great concourse of people

gathered at the appointed place. Mounting into
the saddle, our saint told the people to stand
aside and leave ample room for the horse to go
which way it would. Having obtained this, he

53



at once dug his heels into the animal’s sides
and off it sped on the road for Pavia. Too late
did the Milanese realize that Bernard had eluded
them. Never was he so near becoming a bishop.

The Crusade
On Christmas Day, 1144, the city of Edessa fell

into the hands of the Emir Zenghi. It was feared,
and with good reason, that Jerusalem, which
was then ruled by Baldwin, a boy of twelve
years, would soon succumb to the same fate un-
less help came from Europe. What made matters
worse was the fact that at Jerusalem there were
dissensions among the leaders themselves. Mat-
ters looked pretty dark for the East.
Not long after, Pope Eugene received a visit

from the Bishop of Gabala in Syria, who earn-
estly begged the Holy Father to send help to
the tottering kingdom of Baldwin. The Pope,
who was then in exile at Viterbo, received
them kindly and promised to do his utmost to
enlist the interest of the sovereigns of Europe.
About the same time envoys from the Orient
arrived at the court of Louis VII, begging him
for immediate help. They likewise received sym-
pathetic consideration.

Louis, whose conscience continually tormented
him for crimes committed in a war he had
waged against one of his counts, especially for
the burning of Vitry, gladly seized the idea of
a crusade as a means of expiating his sins. Dur-
ing the ceremony of his coronation, which took
place at Bourges, December 25, 1145, he pub-
licly announced his intention of leading an ex-
pedition against the Saracens. However, his en-
thusiasm was not shared by his court. From the
bishops and nobles, the king received only
sterile tears. Abbot Suger, the regent — prime
minister he would be called today — was for-
mally opposed to the project. The king then
referred the matter to Bernard to decide what
course was to be pursued. But St. Bernard was
too humble to decide such a question by himself;
it was not for him but for the Sovereign Pontiff
to decide that.

Pope Eugene, however, heartily approved the
design of Louis. As a matter of fact, he had al-

54



ready issued a bull addressed to Louis in which
he called upon the faithful of France to arm for
the defense of the Holy Sepulcher, imparting to
all who took the cross the same spiritual favors
that had been granted by Urban II to the first
crusaders. Though he earnestly desired to go in
person to France to inaugurate this work, he
was detained by troubles in Italy. He commis-
sioned the Abbot of Clairvaux to do this for
him and to preach the Holy War throughout
Europe.

It must not be imagined for a moment that St.
Bernard had an easy task before him. As a
matter of fact the mentality of his age was dead
against a crusade, and this made his success all
the more remarkable. The most outstanding ob-
stacle was the great church-building epoch,
which had just begun. The religious sentiment
of the times found an outlet for its devotion in
rearing stately cathedrals to the glory of God, a
work in which all engaged, rich and poor, young
and old. The people were satisfied with this
and felt no need for a distant war. Moreover,
the principal European states — Germany,
France, England, Italy — were torn asunder by
civil wars. Then, too, the authority of the Holy
See had been weakened by the eight years’
schism; even a great many of the bishops dis-
countenanced the project. Added to this was the
rise of many municipalities which had just
declared themselves independent, thereby caus-
ing tense friction between the clergy and the
citizenry. Finally, heresy had caused widespread
corruption.
But no degree of apathy could dampen the

energy of St. Bernard; nothing could resist the
fire and enthusiasm of his eloquence. The crowds
listened to him as to one inspired; all their pre-
judices were soon forgotten, all their doubts
cleared away. He spoke, they said, with the
voice of an angel, he was the living oracle of
heaven. He was irresistible.

Meeting at Vezelay
To open this great campaign with fitting eclat,

a general assembly of all that was most noble in
France was convoked to meet at Vezelay, in
Burgundy, on Palm Sunday, March 31, 1146.

55



No church being large enough to contain the
enormous gathering, the proceedings were con-
ducted in the open air. Having invoked the Holy
Ghost, St. Bernard, mounted on a wooden trib-
une, which had been erected for the occasion,
with the king on one side of him and the queen
on the other, opened the proceedings by reading
the papal bull which authorized him to preach
the new crusade. As people looked up at him on
that memorable day, and saw his haggard ap-
pearance — his body broken by suffering and
reduced almost to a skeleton by fasting and
sickness — they must have thought within them-
selves that of all the men in France he was the
most unfit for the task that was before him.
However, no sooner had he opened his mouth
and his clear vibrant voice rippled over that
sea of upturned faces, then they realized the
right man was in the right place. Within that
frail frame throbbed the heart of a giant. Both
faith and patriotism kindled within his soul an
enthusiasm of which he was not always the
master, and which soon fired the chivalric sons
of France. So far as the mobilization of a huge
army was concerned and hurling it like a cata-
pult on the East, the success of the Second
Crusade seemed assured.
The address opened with a graphic descrip-

tion of the critical situation in the Orient. After
this the speaker, with all the eloquence at his
command, urged and exhorted the chivalry of
France and Europe to take the field against the
enemies of Christ. The address is said to have been
the saint’s greatest oratorical achievement. Un-
fortunately, not a single authentic vestige of it
has come down to us. Historians, however, tell
of the effect it had on his audience. Carried
away with enthusiasm, the people interrupted
the speaker with: “The Cross, the Cross! God
wills it! God wills it!” When at last he had fin-
ished, they pressed forward to receive the cross
from his hands. Queen Eleanor was the first to
kneel at his feet and to receive the sacred sym-
bol. Next came the king’s brother and uncle,
afterwards the great nobles with their ladies, a
number of bishops, finally the knights and men
at arms without number. The huge pile of
crosses that had been prepared for the occasion

56



was soon exhausted, and still the volunteers
came pressing forward. Rather than disappoint
them, the saint tore his cowl into shreds in order
to make crosses. A number of miracles, which
the saint performed, increased the general en-
thusiasm, and seemed to Drove that the crusade
was the work of God.
During the following weeks the saint preached

the crusade in the principal towns of Burgundy
and the neighboring provinces. Miracles every-
where confirmed his word and added to his rep-
utation for sanctity. The whole kingdom of
France was soon on fire. Two months after
the assembly at Vezelay, St. Bernard wrote to
Eugene: “You have commanded and I have
obeyed; the command of authority has made my
obedience fruitful, for with regard to the sol-
diers of the cross: T have announced and I have
spoken; they are multiplied above number.’
Towns and villages are emptied of their in-
habitants; hardly will you find one man to seven
women, whilst the country is full of widows
whose husbands are still alive.”

Letters to Distant Countries

Far from being content with preaching the
crusade as eloquently as he was able, our saint
endeavored to extend his influence and widen
his activity by means of burning letters. These
written exhortations were sent to Greece, Italy,
Spain, Poland, Denmark, Moravia, Bohemia,
Bavaria, Sicily, and England. Taken as a whole
they vary very little; hence they may be re-
garded as copies of an encyclical. As none of
his crusade speeches have come down to us,
these letters are all that is left to indicate the
molten words that flowed from his inspired lips.
The following extracts are taken from the one

addressed to the Bavarians, who were then en-
during the miseries of a civil war:

“Brethren, ‘behold now is the acceptable time,
behold now is the day of salvation. The earth
hath shook and trembled!’ because the Lord of
heaven hath begun to lose the land that is pecu-
liarly His own. Peculiarly His own, I say, be-
cause therein for more than thirty years the
Father’s invisible Word made Himself visible,

57



instructed the people, and as a man conversed
among men. Peculiarly His own, I repeat, for-
asmuch as He hath glorified it with His miracles,
consecrated it with His blood, adorned it with
the first flowers of His glorious resurrection.
And now, on account of our sins, the enemies
of the Cross have uplifted their blasphemous
standard and devastated with fire and sword the
Holy Land, the Land of Promise. Soon, unless
effectively opposed, they will burst into the city
of the living God, to destroy the precious memo-
rials of our redemption and defile the holy
places, once empurpled with the blood of the
immaculate Lamb.

“Ye gallant knights, what will you do? What
will you do, ye Christian soldiers? Am I to think
you will give to the dogs that which is holy, and
pearls to the swine? Oh, what multitudes of
sinners, confessing their offenses with sorrow,
have in the Holy Land been reconciled to God,
since the swords of Christians drove thence the
foul pagans!. . . Were it announced that the
enemy had entered your cities and violated your
homes, had outraged your families and profaned
your churches, which of you would not fly to
arms? Will you do less for the honor of Jesus
Christ? For all these evils, evils still worse,
have befallen His family, of which you are
members. The Savior’s household have been
scattered by the swords of the Saracens; the
barbarians have thrown down the house of God
and divided His inheritance amongst them. And
will you hesitate to undo so much mischief, to
avenge so much wrong? Will you suffer the in-
fidels to contemplate in peace the widespread
ruin they have wrought amongst us, the Chris-
tian people? Remember that their triumph will be
the cause of inconsolable grief to generations
yet unborn, and an everlasting disgrace to us
who permitted it. And what is more, the living
God has charged me to proclaim that He will
take revenge upon such as refuse to defend Him
against His foes. To arms, then! Let a holy in-
dignation animate you to the combat.”

The letter concludes with a reminder of what
happened to the expedition commanded by
Peter the Hermit, and an exhortation to the

58



Germans to act in unison and follow none but
leaders of experience and skill.

In an assembly held at Chartres, the third

Sunday after Easter, St. Bernard was unani-
mously chosen as commander-in-chief of the ex-

pedition. He refused absolutely to think of the
post, and begged Eugene III to support him in
his refusal. This the Pope did. The choice, how-
ever, shows how 'highly St. Bernard was
esteemed for his ability by his contemporaries.

Germany
Though our saint’s success in France in en-

rolling soldiers for the crusade was stupendous,
it seemed as though he was going to meet with
failure in Germany. True indeed, the Emperor
Conrad was indebted to Bernard for more than
one favor and held the saint in the highest
veneration, nevertheless he was far from being
overly inclined toward the crusade. On being
pressed by the holy abbot to take up the cross,
he emphatically and firmly refused to do so. The
reasons he alleged were the disrupted state of
affairs in Germany; the Romans were then in
revolt against the Pope, and as Emperor of the
Holy Roman Empire, it was his duty to quell
the disturbance; and finally there were troubles
in Sicily. However, he would not in any way
hamper the saint in preaching the crusade in
Germany.

St. Bernard was not easily discouraged. There
was a meeting, a general diet of the bishops and
nobles of Germany, to meet on Christmas Day
at Spires for the ceremony of Conrad’s corona-
tion and to concert measures for the peace of
the empire. The chance of preaching the holy
war to the flower of the Teutonic chivalry,
which he esteemed so highly, Bernard would not
miss. He accordingly betook himself to Spires.

Entrance into Spires

His entrance into Spires was an imposing
event. The bishop, followed by his clergy and
the people issued forth to meet the servant of
God in processional order with crosses and ban-
ners. Then followed the various guilds, carrying
distinctive banners adorned with particular bad-
ges of their trade or profession. He was con-

59



ducted through the streets to the door of the
cathedral with the singing of hymns and the
pealing of bells. Here the Emperor Conrad with
the German princes magnificently attired await-
ed him and received him with royal honor. An
immense multitude thronged the place, all eager
to catch a glimpse of the wonder-worker, the
glance of whose eye was supposed to cure the
maladies of soul or body. * The procession ad-
vanced from the great door of the cathedral to
the choir, joyfully chanting the “Salve Regina.”
The holy abbot walked in the middle with the
Emperor at his side. As the last echoes of the
beautiful anthem died out, our saint, in a burst
of love for his heavenly Mother, exclaimed:
“O clemens, O pia, O dulcis Maria,” genuflecting
after each aspiration. Ever since, the triple in-
vocation has formed part of the “Salve.”

After the coronation ceremonies, our saint
mounted the pulpit and eagerly pressed Conrad
and cavaliers to arm themselves for the holy
war. But his words evoked no response. Sad-
dened but not discouraged by this check, his
third, our saint in a private audience with the
Emperor made one more attack. Conrad, having
exhausted all his arguments, finally promised to
submit the question to his council and would
give a definite answer on the morrow. This did
not satisfy the zealous preacher, though he did
not say anything then. Later in the day he
celebrated Mass in the presence of Conrad and
his court. Suddenly, without any intimation of
what he was doing, he faced the congregation
and began to preach on his favorite topic, the
holy war. Describing in graphic terms the woes
of the Eastern Church, he begged them to fly to
the help of Jerusalem. In a sublime peroration
he summoned Conrad before the judgment-seat
of Christ to give an account of his stewardship.
Speaking in the name of the Sovereign Judge,
he enumerated all the favors God had bestowed
on him: wealth, a crown, strength of body and
power of mind. He then went on: “O man, what
else is there that I ought to have done for you
that I have not done?” The Emperor’s resistance
broke. Casting himself on his knees he cried out
with tears and sobs that he was willing to obey
the call of his Savior. The people, with Frederic
60



Barbarossa at their head, the princes and the
clergy applauded this declaration and, following
Conrad’s example, likewise enrolled themselves

in the crusade.
The Emperor had one anxiety still. He feared

lest his rival, Duke Henry of Bavaria, might
take advantage of his prolonged absence to

usurp the crown. Here again Bernard came to
the rescue. He persuaded Henry and his sup-
porters likewise to take up the cross. Thus Ger-
many was solid for the crusade, and at the same
time its intestine dissensions were healed to the
satisfaction of Conrad. St. Bernard was now at
liberty to return to France.

Pan-European Movement
Emboldened by the success that had thus far

blessed his efforts, the Abbot of Clairvaux con-
ceived the idea of extending to the whole of
western Europe his preaching, and in this way
might be enlisted in the army of the Cross Eng-
land, Spain, Italy, Bohemia, Bavaria, later on
also Moravia, Poland and Denmark. Limited as
he was by the very necessity of the case to the
place where he actually happened to be, he
multiplied himself by his letters and envoys. As
Cistercian monasteries were scattered all over
Europe in those days, they furnished him with
reliable men to execute his designs. For instance,
the Cistercian Abbot, Adam of Ebrach, replaced
Bernard at the Diet of Ratisbonne, reading to
the assembly the saint’s letter and the papal
Bull. Thus it came about that from the.Elbe in
northern Germany to the Tagus in Spain, from
the Thames in England to Mount Etna in Italy,
all the peoples were armed, were animated by
one common objective, and were conducted by
one and the same idea — the conquest or at
least the safety of the Holy Land. And this
grandiose manifestation of faith was in great
part the work of a single man, St. Bernard.
The Emperor departed for the East in the

month of May, 1147; King Louis followed him
in June of the same year. Naturally enough, the
hopes of the crusades as well as the hopes of all
Europe were in the highest degree optimistic.
Unfortunately, these hopes were doomed to
frightful disillusionment.

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To make a long and sad story short: weakened
by disease and famine, and betrayed by the
Greeks, the troops of Conrad and Louis were
soon cut to pieces by the Mussulmans. Although
heroic feats of courage were performed by both
German and French Crusaders, they were unable
under the circumstances to hold their own. Only
a few thousand men, the remnant of what had
been the greatest army Europe had ever seen,
finally succeeded in regaining their native land.
The hour to ascend his Calvary had sounded for
St. Bernard.

In July, 1149, after a short stay at Rome, King
Louis landed on the coast of France. He returned
with a few hundred knights. Twenty-eight
months before he had left at the head of over a
hundred thousand men.
The return of the King confirmed all fears

and renewed all sorrows. There was scarcely a
family that did not have some loss to deplore,
and never before were there so many widows
and orphans in France. The lamentations were
general. Instead of considering the sins which
might have caused the fatal issue of the Crusade,
public opinion seized upon one man, upon him
who had been the soul and prime mover of the
great enterprise — St. Bernard. In the first
moments of stupor, even his most devoted
friends were at a loss to meet these accusations.
They beheld the present evils; even his miracles,
which had appeared to authorize the crusade,
became a subject of scandal. As for St. Bernard,
he silently endured all the humiliations that
were heaped upon him, adoring the inscrutable
judgments of God. He waited a whole year be-
fore he sent to the Pope a few words in his own
defense.

But he had his apologists. Otto of Freising,
for instance, half-brother of Conrad, who, al-
though a monk and a bishop, commanded a divi-
sion of the German crusaders, wrote: “If we say
that the holy abbot was inspired by God to ani-
mate us to this war and that we, by our pride
and licentiousness, always disregarded his salu-
tary councils, and have therefore reaped the
fruit of our own excesses in the loss of men and
goods, we shall say nothing that is not con-
62



formable to reason and justified by examples
from antiquity.”

IV. LITERARY LIFE
St. Bernard’s leadership over the century in

which he lived was supreme in degree and uni-
versal in extent. There was no ecclesiastical
matter of any importance, no difference to be
composed, no religious enterprise upon which he
was not consulted. In matters political his in-
fluence was almost as decisive. And when death
withdrew him from this world, his writings per-
petuated both his memory and the sway his
personality and genius had exercised over his
contemporaries. As a matter of fact the influence
of his writings has never waned from his death
till the present day. Judging from the number of
translations and editions that have come out, the
present generation seems to be as appreciative
of his works as the ages that have preceded us.
With the sole exception of St. Augustine, the
works of no other father of the Church have
been so often re-edited either in whole or in
part as those of St. Bernard.

Before classifying his works, we may say that
on everything which our saint wrote he im-
pressed his own personality. Perhaps to no
other ancient writer may Buffon’s aphorism of
style, “Style is the man himself,” be more justly
applied than to him. It is impossible to read a
page of any of his treatises or of his sermons,
particularly of those dealing with the Divine
Person of Jesus Christ or with His Blessed
Mother, without falling under the charm of his
pure and noble soul. There is in his writings a
sweetness that goes straight to the heart. We
feel at once that he well deserves the title which
has been given him, “Doctor Mellifluus,” the
doctor whose writings distill honey, or the
honey-tongued doctor. From this one must not
conclude that Bernard is sweet and nothing
more; that he is ever and always sweet. On the
contrary, his thought is at times fiery, full of
imagery, captivating; his style is lively, concise,
impetuous. With a strange vigor his phrase
follows the movement of a mind that really
seeks truth, struggles with it in order to grasp

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it, and, having finally succeeded, anchors it
down with some bold and noble stroke.
Moreover, though our saint produced honey,

he, beelike, also had a sting, and a sting that
was at times terrific. No one attacks error in
any shape or form with more vigor than this
honey-tongued doctor. When he pursues heresy,
schism, corrupt morals, or injustice, his pen re-
sembles one of those eighty-ton war tanks, which
hammers until, making a breach, it ultimately
destroys the obstacle before it.

One more characteristic of his style is his
skill in the use of Holy Scripture. Not only do
quotations from Scripture abound in his writ-
ings, and not only are they always cited with
great appositeness, but he has the knack of so
weaving the sacred text into his discourse that
it expresses his very thoughts for him. Accord-
ing to Leo XIII, St. Bernard in the allegorical
exposition of Scripture is pre-eminent.

We may truly say of him that he is so agree-
able, so vigorous, so full of the Word of God,
so varied in his treatment of his subjects, that
his writings are most attractive. This is the
verdict, not only of Catholic writers and critics,
but likewise of non-Catholics.

Time has not lessened their attractiveness.
Pope Pius XI, writing to the superiors general of
religious orders and congregations of men, ex-
horts the masters of novices to offer their
charges for careful reading and consideration
Ihe works of Saints Bernard and Bonaventure,
and also those of Alphonsus Rodriguez. “The
power and efficacy of these works,” says the
Holy Father, “far from becoming stale with
time, seem to have even increased with it” (Act.
Ap. Sedis, vol. 16, page 142).

1. Letters

The voluminous correspondence of St. Ber-
nard, a notable part of which has been pre-
served (five hundred thirty-three letters) is
perhaps the most precious historical and literary
monument of the Middle Ages. These letters
give us an idea of- his prodigious and varied ac-
tivity, and are at the same time an index of his
unrivaled influence. He is ubiquitous. When
64



reading these letters, there seem to pass before
us monks, abbots, bishops, cardinals, patriarchs,
popes, princes, ministers, kings, emperors, the
elite of the lay and of the ecclesiastical society of
his times. This correspondence gives a graphic
picture of the Abbot of Clairvaux and his cen-
tury. Is there an important question inside or
outside the Church to be treated of, a danger to
be pointed out, a peril to be avoided, an error to
be refuted, a holy war to be preached, a quarrel
to be settled, a conversion or reconciliation to
be effected, an affair to be conducted at the
court of Rome or elsewhere? Bernard is always
at hand and is prepared. He is the one to whom
all appeal, whom all go out into the desert to
find for the task. He must come, speak, and in
the final analysis decide the question. For he
is the great referee of things human and divine;
he is the master of Christians and the guide of
the Holy See.

By his words he contributes to the conversion
of Abbot Suger and the Archbishop of Sens. He
defends the interests of Bishop Stephen of Paris
against King Louis le Gros. The Prior of St.
Victor of Paris and the underdean of the Chap-
ter of Orleans are assassinated, falling victims of
hatred and envy. Our saint pursues the assassins
and has no rest until they are brought to justice.
He has a watchful eye on the usurpations of
bishops; in his capacity of legate he removes
from the See of Tours an unworthy archbishop.
He gives counsel to the Archbishop of Rouen,
supports the Bishop of Troyes in his efforts at
reform, obtains the pallium for the Archbishop
of Lyons, asks the same favor for the Archbishop
of Rheims, who has been deprived of it, and
recommends to the Pope a large number of prel-
ates. He is, in a word, the very soul and life of
the French clergy.
But his influence is not confined within the

limits of France. He is in correspondence with
the Archbishops of Cologne, Mayence, Treves,
York, Winchester, and Canterbury; with the
Bishops of Lausanne, Geneva, Constance, Lon-
don, Lincoln, Rochester, and Salamanca; with
the Patriarch of Jerusalem, and the cardinals of
the court of Rome. A scandal is given at York.

65



The holy abbot is alarmed and writes at once to
the college of cardinals: “We are burned up with
sorrow, so much so that we are even tired of
life. We see in the house of God abuses that
fill us with horror, and since we cannot correct
them, we address ourselves to you upon whom
this charge devolves. If this matter is remedied,
well and good; if not, at least our conscience will
be free. As for you, you will have no excuse.”
The truth is that there was no one man in

Europe in his day that wielded such power. St.
Bernard is the arbiter of peoples and princes.
For proof of this statement, we have only to
read his letters to the Genoese, the Pisans, the
Milanese, and the citizens of Toulouse. We have
only to consider his relations with the Counts
of Champagne, the Dukes of Burgundy and
Aquitaine, the Duchess of Lorraine and the
Countess of Bretagne, the Queen of Jerusalem,
the Kings of France and England, the Emperors
Conrad and Lothair.

The higher the man to whom he addresses
himself is by reason of his rank or dignity, the
freer he is and the more severe in his language.
Louis VI had a certain favorite, Stephen de
Garlande, who was an archdeacon and at the
same time seneschal (steward of the king’s
feasts). This combination was a source of scan-
dal to the kingdom. St. Bernard was loud and
unsparing in his denunciation of the man who
“would unite the offices of cleric and cavalier,
and wound up by being neither one nor the
other.” An archbishop renders himself hated by
his hardness of heart. “I had resolved,” writes
St. Bernard, “not to write to you. But charity
finally prevailed. You multiply the number of
those who accuse you; you diminish the number
of those who defend you; you provoke adver-
saries. Do you think for a moment that justice
has been banished from the face of the earth
because it is banished from your heart?” The
majestic person of the Sovereign Pontiff him-
self did not intimidate our saint when there was
anything serious or against truth or justice.
Whenever or wherever questions arose that in-
volved these two virtues, or where the salvation
of souls or the honor of the Church of Christ

66



was involved, Bernard was swayed by no hu-
man consideration. He was absolutely fearless,
cost what it might.
Putting aside his letters, which are in a class

by themselves, the works of Saint Bernard may
be classified under three heads, dogmatic, moral
and oratorical.

2. Dogmatic Writings
There are three works in this class: the Trea-

tise against Abelard, the one on Grace and Free
Will, and the one on Baptism. In a booklet of
this size it is out of question to give even an
outline of them; let us say just a word about his
treatise against Abelard.
Written originally as a letter (Letter 190) to

Pope Innocent II, it has been classed among the
treatises because of its length. Considered as a
whole the work is unquestionably one of the most
brilliant polemical essays in ecclesiastical litera-
ture. “Here,” says Vacandard, one of the latest
and perhaps the best of our saint’s biographers,
“Bernard displays all the suppleness of his in-
telligence. Notwithstanding his disdain for the
subtleties of Plato and Aristotle, he shows mar-
velous skill in the use of dialectics.” “It is to the
Apostolic See we must turn,” St. Bernard
begins, “as often as any dangers or scandals
arise in the kingdom of God, more particularly
in matters which belong to the faith. For it
seems to me that errors in faith can nowhere be
so well corrected as there where the true faith
can never be lost.” He then takes up Abelard’s
errors, and refutes them, one by one.

3. Moral Writings
In the second class of our saint’s works we

have the following treatises: The degrees of
Humility and Pride, Love of God, Apology,
Manners and Obligations of Bishops, Conversion,
Praise of the Knights Templars, Precept and
Dispensation, The Life of St. Malachy, and Con-
sideration, addressed to Pope Eugene III. The
last of these will be considered here.
The Treatise of Consideration (a catechism

for popes, as it was styled by one pope) whether
judged by its intrinsic merits or the influence
it has exerted on the history of the Church,

67



must unquestionably be ranked among the fore-
most books of the Middle Ages. It is the work
by which St. Bernard is best known. Nowhere
else is the astonising versatility of his genius so
strikingly displayed. To quote from Dom Ma
billon, O.S.B.: “Amongst all the writings of St.
Bernard there is nothing that appeared more
worthy of him than the five Books of Considera-
tion, composed for Pope Eugene III. If you look
to the greatness of the subject treated, to the
dignity of the person addressed, you can find
nothing more noble; if you look to the manner
of treatment, nothing more sublime; if to the
majesty of style and the depth and vigor of
thought, nothing more eloquent, nothing more
powerful; if, finally, you consider the doctrine
contained in these books, its conformity to the
sacred canons, the propriety of the language in
which it is expressed, there can be nothing more
worthy of a Catholic doctor and a most holy
Father of the Church. Yet what could be more
difficult for one who had lived in solitude, a
stranger to the pursuits and occupations of the
world, than thus to lay down and, as it were,
prescribe rules of conduct for the Sovereign
Pontiff, yea, for the whole Church of God?. . .
So great was the skill or charm, or rather the
God-given authority of our saint, that ever since
their first publication these Books of Considera-
tion have been eagerly sought after, everybody
reading them, and rereading them, even the
popes who are here taken to task with such un-
sparing severity.”
As a matter of fact, this work has been a

special favorite with the Sovereign Pontiffs. St.
Pius V (1566-72) and his successor Gregory
XIII (1572-85) held it in such esteem that they
had it read to them whilst they took their meals.
It was equally prized by Nicholas V (1447-55),
by Urban VII (September 15-27, 1590) and by
Gregory XIV (1590-91). The last named wished
it in the hands of all ecclesiastics, especially
prelates; and for this purpose conceived the
design of publishing it in a separate volume.
The immense circulation of the work may be
estimated from the fact that, at the close of the
Nineteenth Century, it had run through five
hundred editions.
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As a matter of fact, it is a sublime work,
which, placing the pope at the very center of
Catholicism, shows us under every possible point
of view the immense plan of the Church and its
vast dimensions. The idea of the work is that
of the reformation of the Church by the develop-
ment of the internal and quickening power of
the papacy. According to our saint, the healing
of the Church was to begin and end with the
pope. “Thy consideration,” he says, “must begin
with thyself and end with thyself. Thou must
first consider thyself, then the things below thee,
next the things around thee, and lastly the
things above thee. These four great perspectives
embrace the whole universe and indicate the
principal divisions of the work.

4. Oratorical Writings

The extant sermons of St. Bernard number
three hundred and forty, and may be divided
into four classes:

1. Eighty-six deal with the seasons of the
liturgical year;

2. Forty-three with the Blessed Virgin and
the saints;

3. One hundred twenty-five deal with
various subjects;

4. Eighty-six on the Canticle of Canticles.

We shall make a few remarks on the last
class. Our saint began them in the year 1135.
Instead of considering the Canticle of Canticles
as the nuptial song that Solomon composed to
celebrate his union with the daughter of Pharao,
St. Bernard considers it as the nuptial song of
the Word (Verbum) with the Sacred Humanity,
of Christ with His Church, or of Christ with the
individual soul. He treats these subjects not in
a dry, didactic manner, as a commentator, but
rather as a preacher; consequently he takes all
the liberties of a preacher. He does not hold
himself down to the literal meaning of the text.
As a matter of fact, very often he uses the text
merely as a starting point or suggestion for
discoursing cn all the phases of the spiritual
life. Taking the soul from its initiation into the
supernatural life by baptism, he traces its prog-
ress up to its transformation into the image of

69



the Word made Flesh. Whatever the holy doc-
tor has written elsewhere concerning the virtues
and vices and the spiritual life is contained in
his sermons on the Canticle of Canticles. All
this he repeats with greater solidity and eleva-
tion of style. Unfortunately, he never completed
the entire song. As a matter of fact, his eighty-
six sermons bring us up to only the first verse
of the third chapter, not much more than one
third of the entire Song.

Of these sermons the late Cardinal Gasparri
says: “Amongst the many precious writings of
St. Bernard, the first place must undoubtedly
be given to his sublime and mystical exposition
of the Canticle of Canticles. Herein, with a style
of surpassing sweetness, he explains the hidden
senses of Scripture, intermingling practical in-
structions appertaining to piety.”

It is regrettable that St. Bernard’s most elo-
quent sermons have not come down to us. The
fiery words with which he stirred the lethargic
peoples of France, Italy, and Germany at the
time of the Schism and the mobilization of the
Crusaders have all been lost; not a single ser-
mon has been preserved for us. Yet so great
was the power of his eloquence and so majestic
the swing of his gestures that the people of
Germany, though they did not understand the
tongue in which he spoke, were nevertheless
more moved by his words than by the capable
interpreters who repeated after him the sense of
his words. The people on hearing and seeing
him, struck their breasts, burst into tears, and
clamored for the cross. We are assured by one
of St. Bernard’s early biographers that so great
was his eloquence that mothers hid their sons
and wives their husbands, lest perhaps they be
swept into the solitude of Clairvaux or into the
ranks of the crusaders.

Death of St. Bernard
From the beginning of the summer of 1153

St. Bernard’s sickness became worse. He found
if difficult to breathe, his stomach rejected even
a little water, pain had chiseled its lines on his
expressive face. At this time the young Arch-
bishop of Treves arrived in haste with the news

70



that civil war had broken out at Metz. Two
thousand men had already been killed; all over-
tures for reconciliation had proved unavailing.
Bernard was the only hope in the present cir-
cumstances. Would he come and reconcile the
warring parties? On hearing the details of the
fratricidal war, Bernard rose from his bed of
agony and, turning a deaf ear to the remon-
strance of his religious, took the road to Metz.
When, more dead than alive, he arrived at that
city, he found the two armies facing each other
on the banks of the Moselle.
From the Count of Bar, the leader of the

feudal lords, the saint received scant courtesy.
But the bourgeois, as soon as he made his ap-
pearance, heaped all marks of honor and ven-
eration upon him. As usual, God blessed the
zeal of His servant with many miracles. The next
time Bernard approached the Count, he found
him and his colleagues in arms changed men.
Bernard managed to settle difficulties to the sat-
isfaction of both parties, and soon the armies
clasped hands in peace. This was the last pub-
lic act of our saint’s life. Soon after, he returned
to Clairvaux, there to crown by a martyrdom of
suffering a life that had been spent in the serv-
ice of Christ his King.

On re-entering Clairvaux he was livid; a cold
sweat covered his body; his voice could scarcely
be heard. The truth could no longer be dis-
guised; his end was not far off. His condition
being noised abroad, all France was moved.
The king sent his own brother Robert, then
courier after courier, to learn how the saint
fared. Bishops, abbots, princes, clerics, and
monks wanted to see him for the last time. The
Abbot General of the Cistercians arrived and
gave him the last sacraments. Rome itself was
moved. The whole of Europe seemed menaced
by a catastrophe.
As he lay on his deathbed and looked over the

past, his mind could conjure up a record that
was truly enviable. He had healed the greatest
schism that had up to that time troubled the
peace of the Church; he had been the oracle of
several important councils; seven times he had
extinguished the flames of civil war, in Italy,

71



Germany, and France; he had united the forces
of Christendom as they were never united be-
fore or since, for the defense of the Holy Land;
alone he had crushed the Henrician heresy; he
had silenced the prophets of rationalism, Abel-
ard and Gilbert de la Porree; he had stripped
the demagoue Arnold of Brescia of his influence;
he had written treatises, theological, ascetical,
and mystical, to say nothing of incomparable
sermons, that have placed him in the front rank
of the Fathers of the Church; he had raised his
own order, which he found in a moribund con-
dition, to a position of unrivaled influence, and
had also rendered signal services to other reli-
gious orders, such as the Premonstratensians,
Canons Regular, and especially the Benedictines;
he had founded directly at least sixty-eight
monasteries in different parts of the world,
whilst the total number of houses dependent on
Clairvaux amounted to one hundred and sixty;
he had seen one of his religious seated on the
Chair of St. Peter, and at least seven of them
clothed with the cardinal’s red; he had (according
to Bellarmine) more authentic miracles to his
credit than any other saint whose acts have
been written; he had led a life of one long
martyrdom by reason of his continual sufferings;
and, the greatest achievement of all, he had re-
mained throughout, till the very last, a humble
monk. Finally the end came. On August 20,
1153, St. Bernard surrendered his soul into the
hands of his Creator in the sixty-third year of
his age. His death was mourned throughout
Europe as an irreparable loss.

On January 18, 1174, Pope Alexander III can-
onized him. Without giving him the title of Doc-
tor, the Pope nevertheless assigned to him the
Mass that is said for doctors. Although from the
day of his death, even before his death, he was
referred to as the Doctor Mellifluus, still it was
not until the year 1830 that Pope Pius VIII con-
ferred on him the title of Doctor of the Univer-
sal Church. Dom Mabillon, one of the most
erudite Benedictines of his day, who has given
us perhaps the best critical edition of his works,
styles him the Last of the Fathers of the Church.
Owing to the great services the saint rendered to

72



the Church by his writings and labors, posterity
has ratified this title

Hidden Springs
We have rapidly reviewed the highlights of

our saint’s life and labors, recognizing as we
went along, the unrivaled influence he exercised
on the men and events of his time. Were we to
stand here before the colossal figure of the
greatest man of the Twelfth Century and not
try to enter into his soul, we would never be
able to take his true measure. Really to know
a saint, especially Bernard, we must go down to
the driving motives of his life. The motives of
a saint’s life spring from and are colored by his
virtues, rather by his outstanding virtues. Can-
onization, be it noted, presupposes the possession
of all virtues by the saint canonized, and pos-
session of them in an eminent degree. Hence
we may say at once that in Bernard we find all
the virtues. However, if asked: “In which spe-
cifically did he excel?” we might be at a loss to
answer. Yet it seems safe to assert that his
most outstanding virtues were faith, humility,
and charity.

1. Faith

Treating of faith, the Council of Trent says
it is the root and the foundation of all justifica-
tion; therefore it lies deep in the soul of every
saint. In St. Bernard’s soul it was the bedrock
foundation of his entire sanctity. Though he
possessed a powerful mind, which placed him
among the geniuses of the Church, for him in
every debate the deciding factor was revelation;
what God Himself had said on the matter. His
reason thus humbled before the authority of God
became strong and unshakable; there were no
more obscurities for him in things human or
divine. From this arose, as a rigorous con-
sequence, the constancy of his principles and
the firmness of his will. Hence his utter fear-
lessness in attacking sin, error, injustice, above
all, heresy. Precisely because Abelard’s errors
undermined the very foundations of the faith
did the latter find such an untiring and uncom-
promising antagonist in St. Bernard, particularly
in everything that touched the Holy Trinity

73



For the dogma of the Most Holy Trinity is the
basis of our holy faith. Take that away and
everything crumbles to the ground. Faith was
the very atmosphere Bernard breathed. Persons,
things, and events were never considered apart
from God; they were ever tinged with a divine
light. As nothing happens aside from God, so
Bernard never looked at them apart from Him.
Hence his reverence for even the meanest serf;
hence his deep interest in everything that con-
cerned the Church; hence that other-worldliness
that was ever about him.

2. Humility

True humility is an offshoot of faith. Faith en-
ables us to see things, as it were, with the eyes of
God; we judge of persons, things and events as
God judges of them. Thoroughly grasping in the
white light of faith his own utter and absolute
dependence upon God, humility was for St. Ber-
nard the most rational and at the same time the
most natural thing in the world. It enabled him
to locate himself in regard to God, himself and
his neighbor; it colored his entire life. His hu-
mility was so apparent in his relations with
others that, no matter how sharp the rebuke he
administered, it was quite evident that he was
actuated by the purest of motives; his humility
softened his rebukes.
Undoubtedly he was the greatest miracle-

worker of his century. St. Robert Bellarmine,
a Doctor of the Church, by the way, did not
hesitate to say that Bernard had more miracles
to his credit than any other saint whose life has
been written. How the saint regarded this power
is an index of his profound humility. “I can not
understand/’ he said, “why God should work
miracles through a man like me. As a rule, real
miracles are wrought by saints, pretended mir-
acles by impostors. But I am far from being a
saint, and so far as I can judge I am not an im-
postor either. I see it now. Miracles have noth-
ing to do with sanctity, they are but the means
of gaining souls to God. He simply uses me as
an instrument, not to glorify me, but for the
edification of my neighbor.” That satisfied him.
He could claim as little credit for the wonders
wrought through his instrumentality as could
74



the rod of Moses or the shadow of St. Peter for
the miracles wrought by these holy men.
As a matter of fact, St. Bernard had need of

great humility to keep his head clear in the
midst of all the honors that were heaped upon
him. He received ovations from the Emperor
Conrad and his court; again, it was King Louis
of France and the French court that went mad
in the expression of their veneration for him.
Cities turned out to meet and escort him with all
possible marks of esteem and veneration. Bish-
oprics and archbishoprics aplenty were offered
him, among which was the attractive Archbish-
opric of Rheims with a request from Louis VII
to accept it. But judging himself unworthy, he
invariably refused the dignity. Writing to the
above king, he said: “The habit I wear makes it
appear that I am capable of fulfilling these sub-
lime functions. But this habit does not give
sanctity; it gives only the appearance of it. No-
body knows me better than I know myself, and
there is nobody whom I know better than I do
myself’ (Letter 449).

3. Love for Christ
The sufferings of the Man-God have always

presented to the world, and they present espe-
cially to the modern world, an enigma which it
has never been able to solve. As a matter of
fact, it does not try to solve it; for it instinc-
tively runs away from suffering; it cannot un-
derstand why an infinitely good God allows suf-
fering in His world at all. But to understand a
suffering God, a God, moreover, who suffers for
such a creature as man — that it does not try
to understand. Yet so it is. God, the God-Man,
suffered and suffered terrific torments for poor,
weak man, just as he is. The saints, gifted as
they are with special lights from the Holy Ghost,
regard suffering in a different manner. Suffering
for them is either a means of keeping company
with their suffering Master or of repairing His
outraged rights. To be sure, suffering has no
attraction in itself; nature abhors it; it is never
accepted, still less provoked, for its own sake.
But when it is envisaged as a part of the suffer-
ings of Christ or as a chance to do something for
Him, then it assumes an altogether different

75;



color. Then suffering with and for Christ be-
comes the Folly of the Cross. If it be folly to
suffer, Christ gave the example; it is most wise
to follow Him.
Though St. Bernard is a many-sided genius,

yet there is one thing that stands out prominent-
ly in his character. It is his deep love for the
Divine Person of Jesus Christ. Love for Him,
and it is only love that can mould a saint, led
him to the excesses of the Cross. Christ suffer-
ing for mankind, for himself therefore, suffering
and wishing to enlist valiant followers in the
ranks of those who would be willing to suffer
for others, was a loud challenge to a heart of
Bernard’s type. This love for Christ lies at the
bottom of his entire contemplative and active
life. Because he loved Christ, he fought for His
Church; because he loved Christ, he preached
the Crusade; because he loved Christ, he never
spared himself when he could forward his Mas-
ter’s interests.

4. Love for Mary
After love for Christ came love for Mary.

Father Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J., has a
beautiful poem in which he compares the
Blessed Virgin to the air we breathe. Just as
that ever-present element encircles us round and
round in every position that we take, and we
must unceasingly fill our lungs with it under
pain of losing life, so Mary’s care and love for
us encircles us at every turn of the spiritual life.
No comparison can better express St. Bernard’s
love and devotion to the Mother of God. In his
writings he shows himself one of the greatest
lovers and servants of the Blessed Virgin. So
lofty are his conceptions of the dignity of the
Mother of God, so tender are his expressions of
filial affection for her, that amongst all the
saints of the Middle Ages he stands out conspic-
uous. For Mary he has all the confidence of a
child for its mother. After Jesus she is all to
kim. In writing of her, his pen becomes a pen
of fire, which burns its words into our hearts.
She is his mother.
Mary is the God-given mediatrix between

man and his Redeemer. God came to us by
Mary; by Mary we should return to Him. Have
76



we anything to offer God? By offering it
through Mary we are sure of winning for our
gift a gracious acceptance. In all our troubles
and temptations we must call upon her, cry to
her, never cease until we have been heard.
The boundless confidence which he had in

Mary’s intercession is fully expressed in the
prayer that has been attributed to him the world
over.

The Memorare
Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that

never was it known that any one who fled to thy
protection, implored thy help, or sought thy

intercession, was left unaided. Inspired with
this confidence, I fly unto thee, O Virgin of vir-
gins, my mother; to thee I come, before thee I
stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the
Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, hut in
thy clemency hear and answer me. Amen.

(300 days Indulgence, each time)

We cannot conclude this paragraph on Mary
without quoting the well-known words of Dante,
the great medieval poet, in his immortal work
“La Divina Commedia.”

“For Bernard when I looked to see,
I saw instead a Senior at my side
Robed as the rest in glory. Joy benign
Glowed in his eyes and o’er his cheeks diffused,
With gestures such as speak a father’s love.

And thus the Senior, holy and revered:
‘That thou at length mayst happily conclude
Thy voyage (to which end I was dispatched,
By supplication moved and holy love)
Let thy upsoaring vision range at large
This garden through: for so, by ray divine
Kindled, thy ken a higher flight shall mount:
And from heaven’s Queen, whom I adore,
All gracious aid defend us; for that I
Am her own faithful Bernard.’ ”

(Paradiso, Canto XXXI. Carey’s translation)

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5. Love for His Neighbor
Love for his neighbor was also an outstanding

virtue of our saint. His lively faith enabled
him to perceive the supernatural value of the
soul in every man he met. However thick the
layer of rusticity, bodily deformity, or moral
depravity that covered the soul, St. Bernard
always saw the image of God stamped upon it.
With Christlike charity his heart went out to it.
No sacrifice was too great to make for its sal-
vation. Its woes were his. He was ever ready to
do all he could for its salvation. Of himself he
once said: “If kindness were a sin, I don’t think
I would be able to avoid committing it.”

Active and Contemplative

Perhaps the most remarkable feature of St.
Bernard’s life is the manner in which he joined
the active and the contemplative life. In this he
was unique. He had a hand in all the events of
his epoch; in reality he was the soul of them.
He passes through cities, enters courts and coun-
cils, crosses the Alps three times (without, of
course, modern means of travel), travels all
over France, penetrates into Germany, has del-
icate negotiations entrusted to him, grapples
with heresy and schism, thunders against the
fiercest passions in the breast of man — yet he
is ever calm and recollected, united to God. No
matter how important the affair he had in hand,
he never poured himself out on it. Though he
could not take his cell with him, he took his
interior solitude with him wherever he went.
The truth is, though St. Bernard retained his
own personality, Christ so lived in him, as in
St. Paul, that Christ’s thoughts, love, forbear-
ance, and compassion were Bernard’s. This, and
this alone, is the secret of his leadership.

78



BIBLIOGRAPHY

Bernard, St., Opera

Chevallier, Histoire de Saint Bernard

Dumesnil, Saint Benard

Luddy, Life and Teaching of St. Bernard

Luddy, The Order of Citeaux

Miterre, Saint Bernard

Neander, Der heilige Bernard

Ratisbonne, Life and Times of St. Bernard

Sanvert, Saint Bernard

Vacandard, Vie de Saint Bernard

Vaughan, Life of St. Thomas of Aquin

Printed by
The Mission Press, S.V. D.

Techny, 111.

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