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ST. BERNARD AS ABBOT.
St. Bernard, the son of a n.o.ble in Burgundy, as already stated, soon displayed a genius for self-mortification as a Cistercian monk. He was so self-concentred that, when he had walked a whole day on the banks of Lausanne Lake, he never noticed that there was any lake at all. Once he borrowed a horse for a journey, but never noticed what sort of bridle it had. He had such a reputation for learning and piety that many potentates referred their differences to him, and Bolingbroke said that the cell of Bernard was a scene of as much intrigue as the court of the Emperor. He said of Abelard that he knew everything that is in heaven and earth but himself. Bernard died at sixty-three, and was buried at Clairvaux in 1153.
He said many men know many things--measure the heavens, count the stars, dive into the secrets of Nature--but know not themselves.
ST BERNARD'S MIRACLES.
The biographers and chroniclers ascribe abundant miracles to St. Bernard.
A boy with an ulcer in his foot begged the holy man to touch and bless him, and the sign of the cross was made and the lame was healed. Once a knight had been suffering from a quartan fever for eighteen months, and used to foam at the mouth and lie unconscious; but Bernard cured him instantly with a piece of consecrated bread. Young Walter of Montmirail, when three months old, was brought by his mother to be blessed; the conscious child clutched at Bernard's hand and kissed it. Once an incredible number of flies filled the church at Foigny at the time of its dedication, and their noise and buzzing were an intolerable nuisance; but the saint merely said, "I excommunicate them," and next morning they were all dead, and had to be shovelled out with spades. On another occasion, as Bernard was returning from Chalons, the wind and rain and cold were fierce, and one of the company by some accident lost his horse, which scampered away over the plain. Bernard said, "Let us pray," and they were scarcely able to finish the Lord's Prayer before the horse came back tame and mild, stood before Bernard, and was restored to its owner.
THE MONK BERNARD AND HIS FAs.h.i.+ONABLE SISTER.
St. Bernard had at an early age converted his brothers and made monks of them; but he had a sister, Humbeline, who showed no enthusiasm for a nunnery. She married a man of rank and affluence, and did her part in the gay world. One day she thought she would like to go and visit her brothers in the monastery, and with great pomp and retinue she drove to the gates of Clairvaux and asked to see Bernard. But he, "detesting and execrating her as a net of the devil to catch souls," refused to go out and meet her.
Her brother Andrew, whom she encountered at the gate, also treated her with harshness, and observed with unbecoming contempt upon her fine apparel. She burst into tears at this coldness, and at last exclaimed, "And what if I am a sinner? It is for such that Christ died! It is because I am one that I need the advice and conversation of G.o.dly men. If my brother despises my body, let not a servant of the Lord despise my soul.
Let him come and command: I am ready to obey." This speech brought out Bernard, who ordered her to imitate her saintly mother: to renounce the luxuries and vanities of the world, to lay aside her fine clothes, and to become a nun inwardly even if she could not a.s.sume the outward appearance.
The sister went home, thought over all this, and ended by coming round to Bernard's views. She astonished her friends and neighbours by the sudden change in her ways of life. Her fastings, prayers, and vigils showed that she also had a turn for the monastic life. She got permission from her husband and retired to the convent of Juilly, where she emulated his austere devotion, and became worthy of such a brother as Bernard.
ST. BERNARD AND HIS RIVAL, PETER THE VENERABLE.
A rivalry sprang up between the monks of Cluny and those of Citeaux, the white dress of the latter causing much bitterness to those in black.
Bernard of Clairvaux was the champion of the Cistercians, and Peter of the Cluniacs. Bernard blamed the Cluniacs for their luxury and secular habits.
He said many of the monks, though young and vigorous, pretended sickness, that they might be allowed to eat flesh. Those who abstained from flesh indulged their palate without stint in exquisite cookery; while, in order to provoke the appet.i.te, they drank largely of the strongest and most fragrant wines, which were often rendered more stimulating by spices. At table, instead of grave silence, light worldly gossip, jests, and idle laughter prevailed. The Cluniacs had coverlets of fur or of rich and variegated materials for their beds. They dressed themselves in the costliest furs, silk, and cloth, fit for robes of princes. Even the stuff for a cowl was chosen with feminine and fastidious care. This excessive care for the body betokened a want of mental culture. Even the mode of wors.h.i.+p and magnificence of the churches were excessive in splendour. The churches were elaborately adorned and the poor were neglected. There were pictures and monstrous and grotesque carvings in the walls, wholly unsuited to sacred wors.h.i.+p and apt to distract the mind. The chandeliers and candlesticks were of gold and silver and set with jewels; the pavements were inlaid with figures of saints and angels, whose character was thereby degraded. The golden shrines containing relics seemed only to flatter the wealthy and allure them into opening their purse-strings.
These abbots travelled at home with a pomp and retinue of sixty horses, only suited to distant undertakings of great pith and moment. All these unseemly practices cried aloud for redress.
PETER THE VENERABLE REPLIES TO BERNARD.
Peter the Venerable replied to St. Bernard and defended the Cluniacs. He retorts that the white dress of the Cistercians was too significant of pride, while the black dress of Cluny was better suited to the grave and sad. The severity of the Cistercian discipline was excessive, and only drove monks out of the order. The use of furs and materials for dress and bedding and the relaxation of fastings were properly made to suit the diversities of climate. Moreover, as coats of skins were given to Adam and Eve, not for pride, but for shame, the use of furs might well serve to remind us that we were exiles from our heavenly country. If the Cluniacs had lands, they were at least more indulgent to their tenants; if they had serfs, this was because these could not be separated from the lands. If the Cluniacs had castles, these were generally turned into houses of prayer; if they had tolls, they were reminded that St. Matthew came from the cla.s.s of toll-collectors; if they had t.i.thes, they at least had forsaken all earthly possessions before entering the order, and gave an ample equivalent in the prayers and tears and alms which the monks used for the benefit of the public. It was not necessary for the monks to work at manual labour when they had ample employment in spiritual concerns and priestly exercises. The was.h.i.+ng of feet on receiving pilgrims and strangers always involved a great waste of time. Though the Cluniacs were blamed for having no bishops, this was sufficiently explained from their being under the Bishop of Rome.
THE SCHOOLMEN AND DOCTORS OF THE MIDDLE AGES.
The subtle and ingenious schoolmen and doctors of the Middle Ages were too often only "madly vain of dubious lore." One doctor of Paris, named Simon Churnai, having acquired great fame in 1202 by his defence of the doctrine of the Trinity, was so conceited as to say, "Oh, poor Jesus! how greatly have I confirmed and exalted Your position! If I had chosen to attack it, I could have destroyed it by much stronger reasons and objections!" Peter Lombard, friend of St. Bernard, and author of the popular work ent.i.tled "The Sentences," ventured to discuss such problems as the following: When the angels were made, and how; whether they be all equal in essence, wisdom, and freewill; whether they were created perfect and happy, or the reverse; whether the demons differ in rank among themselves; whether they all live in h.e.l.l, or out of it; whether the good angels can sin, or the bad act virtuously; whether they have bodies; and whether every person has or has not a good angel to preserve him and a bad one to destroy him. The most famous of the doctors had their favourite adjectives, as in the following list:--
The irrefragable doctor Alexander Hales 1230.
The angelical doctor Thomas Aquinas 1256.
The seraphic doctor Bonaventura 1260.
The wonderful doctor Roger Bacon 1240.
The most profound doctor aegidius de Columna 1280.
The most subtle doctor John Duns Scotus 1304.
The most resolute doctor Durand 1300.
The invincible doctor W. Occham 1320.
The perspicuous doctor Walter Burley 1320.
The most enlightened doctor Raymond Lully 1300.
THE DEATHBED OF AN ABBOT (A.D. 1137).
Warin, abbot of St. Evroult, after serving G.o.d under the monastic rule for forty-three years, one day in June 1137 was observed to sing Ma.s.s with great devotion in the morning, when they buried the corpse of a soldier.
In the course of the day he took to his bed, and lay dangerously ill for five days, during which the sick man heard Ma.s.s daily, and said an office which he had regularly performed himself for the thirty years of his priesthood. Seeing now that he was going the way of all flesh, he earnestly sought the _viatic.u.m_ for the great journey, and prepared to present himself to the Most High King of Sabaoth by confessing his sins with tears in his eyes, earnest and constant prayer, the holy unction, and the life-giving partic.i.p.ation of the Lord's body. At last, strengthened with these great aids, he departed on June 21st; and having performed all that belonged to a faithful champion of Christ, and commended himself and his spiritual sons to the Lord G.o.d, fell asleep in the fifteenth day of his government. The sorrowing brethren all joined in paying the last offices to their lamented father, and he was buried in the chapter by the side of the tomb of Abbot Osbern. A white stone was placed over his grave; and, adds Orderic, "for the love I bore to my old and dear a.s.sociate, and afterwards my spiritual father, I composed an epitaph to be engraved upon it."
ECSTATIC VISIONS OF SISTER HILDEGARD (A.D. 1147).
When Pope Eugenius was visiting Albero, Archbishop of Treves, in 1147, with whom he remained three months, he was consulted and asked for an opinion as to the prophecies of Hildegard, head of a monastic sisterhood at St. Disibod's, in the diocese of Mentz. Hildegard, born in 1098, had from her childhood been subject to fits of ecstasy, during which it was said that, though ignorant of Latin, she uttered oracles in that language, and these were eagerly heard, recorded, and circulated. With the power of prophecy she was credited with the power of working miracles.
She came to be consulted on all manner of subjects by emperors, kings, and popes. Her tone in addressing the highest personage was like that of a true prophetess--one of p.r.o.nounced superiority. She denounced the corruptness of the monks and clergy with a vigour which delighted their enemies. Even St. Bernard, when in Germany, became interested in the position of Hildegard, and it was at his instance that the Pope examined the subject, and gave her his approval and sanctioned a design she entertained of building a convent in a spot on St. Rupert's Hill, near Bingen, which had been revealed to her in a vision. Another ecstatic visionary about the same period was Elizabeth of Schonau, who used in her trances to utter oracles in Latin, and to relate her interviews with angels and the Queen of Heaven; and both Hildegard and she attained the honour of saints.h.i.+p. A little later, about 1190, Joachim, a Calabrian, though not a prophet, attained the dignity of a seer, and was consulted by popes and princes.
THE SAFEST WAY OF TRAVELLING TO ROME (A.D. 1172).
Abbot Sampson of Edmundsbury used to relate this: "In my earlier days as a monk I journeyed to Rome on the business of this convent, and I pa.s.sed through Italy at that time when all clerks bearing letters of our lord the Pope Alexander were taken, and some were imprisoned, and some hanged, and some with nose and lips cut off were sent back to the Pope to his shame and confusion. I, however, pretended to be a Scotchman; and putting on the garb of a Scotchman, I often shook my staff in the manner they use that weapon, which they call a pike, at those that mocked me, uttering fierce language after the manner of the Scotch. To those who met and questioned me as to who I was, I answered nothing but 'Ride, Rome, turn Canterbury.'
This I did to conceal myself and my errand, and that I should get to Rome safer under the guise of a Scotchman. Having obtained letters from the Pope even as I wished, on my return I pa.s.sed by a certain castle, and was taking my way from the city, and behold the officers thereof came about me, laying hold upon me and saying, 'This vagabond, who makes himself out to be a Scotchman, is either a spy or bears letters from the false Pope Alexander.' And while they examined my ragged clothes, my leggings, my breeches, and even the old shoes which I carried over my shoulders, after the fas.h.i.+on of the Scotch, I thrust my hand into the little wallet which I carried, wherein was contained the writing of our lord the Pope, close by a little mug I had for drinking. And the Lord G.o.d and St. Edmund permitting, I drew out that writing, together with the mug, so that, extending my arm aloft, I kept the writ underneath the mug. They could see the mug plainly enough, but they did not notice the writ; and so I got clean out of their hands in the name of the Lord. Whatever money I had about me, they took away; therefore I was obliged to beg from door to door, being at no danger until I arrived in England."
PORTRAIT OF ABBOT SAMPSON OF ST. EDMUNDSBURY (A.D. 1182).
Sampson, abbot of Edmundsbury (Bury St. Edmunds), was thus sketched by his faithful chronicler Jocelyn of Brakeland: "The Abbot Sampson was of middle stature, nearly bald, having a face neither round nor yet long, a prominent nose, thick lips, clear and very piercing eyes, ears of the quickest hearing, lofty eyebrows and often shaved, and he soon became hoa.r.s.e from a brief exposure to cold. On the day of his election he was forty-seven years old, and had been a monk seventeen years, having a few grey hairs in a reddish beard, with a few grey in a black head of hair, which somewhat curled, but within fourteen years after his election it all became white as snow; a man remarkably temperate, never slothful, well able and willing to ride or walk, till old age gained upon him and moderated such inclination; who on hearing the news of the cross being captive, and the loss of Jerusalem, began to use under-garments of horsehair, and a horsehair s.h.i.+rt, and to abstain from flesh and flesh meats; nevertheless, he desired that meats should be placed before him while at the table for the increase of the alms-dish. Sweet milk, honey, and suchlike things he ate with greater appet.i.te than other food. He abhorred liars, drunkards, and chatterers; for virtue ever is consistent with itself and rejects contraries. He also much condemned persons given to murmur at their meat and drink, and particularly monks who were dissatisfied therewith, himself adhering to the uniform course he had practised when a monk. He had likewise the good quality, that he never changed the dish you set before him. Once when I, then a novice, happened to serve in the refectory, it came into my head to ascertain if this were true, and I thought I would place before him a mess which would have displeased any other but him. Yet he never noticed it. An eloquent man both in French and Latin, but intent more on the substance of what he said than on the manner of saying it."
MONKS OF ST. EDMUNDSBURY REBUILDING THEIR ALTAR.
One night Abbot Sampson of St. Edmundsbury dreamt that St. Edmund complained to him that his altar required rebuilding, and that the shrine or _loculus_, in which the saint lay buried, must be transferred. Sampson took care to carry out this monition, and Jocelyn the chronicler relates the imposing ceremony thus: "The festival of St. Edmund now approaching, the marble blocks are polished, and all things are in readiness for lifting of the shrine to its new place. A fast of three days was held by all the people, and the abbot appointed the time and way for the work.
Coming therefore that night to matins, we found the great shrine raised upon the altar, but empty, covered all over with white doeskin leather, fixed to the wood with silver nails. Praises being sung, we all proceeded with our disciplines. These finished, the abbot and some others with him are clothed in their albs, and approaching reverently set about uncovering the _loculus_. There was an outer cloth of linen inwrapping the _loculus_, and all within this was a cloth of silk, and then another linen cloth, and then a third; and so at last the _loculus_ was uncovered and seen resting on a little tray of wood, that the bottom of it might not be injured by the stone. Over the breast of the martyr there lay fixed to the surface of the _loculus_ a golden angel about the length of a human foot, holding in one hand a golden sword and in the other a banner. Lifting the _loculus_ and body therefrom, they carried it to the altar, and I reached out my sinful hand to help in carrying, though the abbot had commanded that none should approach except called. And the _loculus_ was placed in the shrine, and the shrine for the present closed. We all thought that the abbot would show the _loculus_ to the people, and bring out the sacred body again at a certain period of the festival. But in this we were wofully mistaken. Our lord the abbot spoke privily with the sacristan and Walter, the doctor, and order was taken that twelve of the brethren should be appointed against midnight who were strong to carry the shrine. I, alas! was not of the twelve. The abbot then said that it was among his prayers to look once upon the body of his patron, and that he wished the sacristan and doctor to be with him. The convent, therefore, being all asleep, these twelve, clothed in their albs, with the abbot, a.s.sembled at the altar; and when the lid was unfastened, all except the two forenamed a.s.sociates were ordered to withdraw. The abbot and they two were alone privileged to look in. The head lay united to the body, a little raised with a small pillow.
But the abbot looking close, found now a silk cloth veiling the whole body, and then a linen cloth of wondrous whiteness, and upon the head was spread a small linen cloth, and then another small and most fine silk cloth, as if it were the veil of a nun. These coverings being lifted off, they found now the sacred body all wrapt in linen, and so at length the lineaments of the same appeared. But here the abbot stopped, saying he durst not proceed further or look at the sacred flesh naked. Taking the head between his hands, he thus spake, groaning, 'Glorious master, holy Edmund, blessed be the hour when thou wert born. Glorious martyr, turn it not to my perdition that I have so dared to touch thee, miserable and sinful that I am; thou knowest my devoted love and my secret thought.' And proceeding, he touched the eyes and the nose, which was very ma.s.sive and prominent, and then he touched the breast and arms; and raising the left arm, he touched the fingers, and placed his own fingers between the sacred fingers. And proceeding, he found the feet standing stiff up, like the feet of a man dead yesterday; and he touched the toes and counted them.
And now it was agreed that the other brethren should be called forward to see the miracles, and accordingly those ten now advanced, and along with them six others, who had stolen in without the abbot's a.s.sent; and all these saw the sacred body, but Thurstan was the only one of them who put forth his hand and touched the saint's knees and feet. And that there might be abundance of witnesses, one of our brethren, John of Dice, sitting on the roof of the church with the servants of the vestry, and looking through, clearly saw all these things. The body was then lifted to its place in the shrine, and the panels of the _loculus_ refixed. When we a.s.sembled to sing matins, and understood what had been done, grief took hold of all that had not seen these things, each saying to himself, 'Alas!
I was misled.' Matins over, the abbot called the convent to the great altar, and briefly recounting the matter, explained that it had not been in his power, nor was it permissible or fit to invite us all to the sight of such things. At hearing of which we all wept, and with tears sang _Te Deum laudamus_, and hastened to toll the bells in the choir."
AN ABBOT HARa.s.sED WITH THE CARES OF HIS HIGH OFFICE (A.D. 1182).
When Sampson was abbot of St. Edmundsbury, Jocelyn, his chronicler, writes: "On one occasion I said, 'My lord, I heard thee this night wakeful and sighing heavily, contrary to thy usual wont;' and he answered, 'No wonder: thou art partaker of my good things--in meat and drink, in riding abroad, and suchlike; but you have little need to care concerning the conduct of the house and household of the saints and arduous businesses of the pastoral cares, which hara.s.s me and make my spirit to groan and be heavy.' Whereto I, lifting up my hands to Heaven, made answer, 'From such anxiety, almighty and most merciful Lord, deliver me!' I have heard the abbot say that, if he could have been as he was before he became a monk, and could have had five or six marks of rent wherewith he could have been supported in the schools, he never would have been monk or abbot. On another occasion, he said with an oath that, if he could have foreseen what and how great a charge it had been to govern the abbey, he would have been master of the almonry and keeper of the books, rather than abbot and lord. And yet who will credit this? Scarcely myself, and not even myself, unless from being constantly with him by day and night for six years I had had the opportunity of becoming fully conversant with the worthiness of his life and the rule of his wisdom."
THE MONKS ANNOYED AT THE VISIT OF THE POPE'S LEGATE.
The worthy chronicler of St. Edmundsbury, Jocelyn, thus relates the sensation caused in his convent: "In 1176 there came intelligence to Hugh, the abbot, that Richard, the Archbishop of Canterbury, purposed coming to make a visitation of our church, by virtue of his authority as legate; and thereupon the abbot, after consultation, sent to Rome and sought a privilege of exemption from the power of the aforesaid legate. On the messenger's return from Rome, there was not the means of discharging what he had promised to our lord the Pope and the cardinals, unless indeed, under the special circ.u.mstances of the case, the cross which was over the high altar, the Virgin Mary, and the St. John, which Stigund, the archbishop, had adorned with a vast quant.i.ty of gold and silver, and had given to St. Edmund, could be made use of for this purpose. There were certain of our convent who, being on terms of intimacy with the abbot, said that the shrine of St. Edmund itself ought to be stripped, as the means of obtaining such privileges, these persons not considering the great peril that would ensue from obtaining ever so valuable a privilege by such means as this, for there would be no means of calling to account any abbot who might waste the possessions of the Church and despoil the convent."
DEATHBED OF A REPENTANT PRINCESS IN 1199.
Joanna, daughter of Henry II. of England, and a favourite sister of Richard Coeur-de-Lion, and, like him, fond of the clang of trumpets and the martial music of armies, went to Syria, encouraging the Crusaders, and afterwards married Earl Raimond of Toulouse. She died at the age of thirty-four; and though neglectful of the monks in her busy days, she repented and wished she had joined the nuns. A monk thus describes her deathbed: "Trusting to the truth and mercy of the Most High, who will give a penny to him who works only at the eleventh hour, as well as to those who have laboured from the first, she greatly desired to a.s.sume a religious habit, and commanded the prioress of Fontevraud to be summoned by letters and messengers; but when distance delayed her coming, feeling her end approaching, she said to the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was then present, 'My good lord, father, have pity on me, and fulfil my earnest desire; furnish my body with the arms of religion to fight my adversary, that my spirit may be restored more pure and free to its Creator; for I know and believe that, if I might be joined in body to the order of Fontevraud, I should escape eternal punishment.' But the archbishop, trembling, said that this could not be lawfully done without her husband's consent; but when he saw her constancy and the Spirit of G.o.d speaking in her, moved by pity and conquered by her prayers, he with his own hand consecrated and gave her the sacred veil, her mother and the abbot of Tarpigny with other monks being present, and offered her to G.o.d and the order of Fontevraud. She now, rejoicing and unmindful of her pangs, declared she saw in a vision the glorious Mother of G.o.d; and as the abbot told us, she cast her veil at the enemy, saying, 'I am a sister and a nun of Fontevraud: thus strengthened, I fear thee not.'" The royal nun died very soon, and was buried in the monastery.
A MONK STEALING ST. ANTONY'S PSALM BOOK (A.D. 1200).
It is related by Ribadeneira, in his Life of St. Antony of Padua, that a certain Franciscan novice, throwing off his habit, ran away from the monastery in which the saint lived, and took away with him a psalm book written with St. Antony's own hand and explained with marginal notes, which the saint often used when he privately expounded the Scriptures to the friars. As soon as St. Antony perceived his book to be stolen, he fell down on his knees and earnestly entreated G.o.d to restore him his book again. In the meantime, the apostate thief having his book with him, as he prepared to swim over the river, met the devil, who with a drawn sword in his hand commanded him to go back again immediately, and restore to St.